(Winterfell: 10/4/298 AC) Arya II


She stood in the middle of a large sparsely furnished, cold room, with unlit torches placed evenly against the walls. The windows were crystal clear, cleaner than she thought they could get, allowing sunlight to enter into the tidy space, and illuminating the tapestries lining the walls. 'The guest house?'

"Hello?!" she shouted, scanning the room. A small fireplace near the center wall at the left end of the room was crackling its last flames. Somewhere, in the distance, she heard a bird's squawk. Above the fireplace was a large tapestry, vividly colored, depicting a seemingly random assortment of animals surrounding a large many-eyed creature, with six thick legs, and a massive gaping maw. As she grew nearer to the elaborate wall-hanging, she saw a crowned stag with burning antlers charging the mysterious creature head on. A three-headed dragon stood on the back of the creature, one head biting at its back and another breathing flames upon a large Kraken that entangled the Dragon's third head within its great tentacles. Ensnared alongside the dragon were a roaring lion, a snarling wolf, and the monstrous creature's leg.

"What is this?" she questioned, running her fingers along the tapestry. "This isn't in the guest house." Tracing the form of the sea beast, her hand lingered on the wolf while it was engaged in battle with the lion, a smaller uncrowned stag charged the lion from behind. The wind whistled against the walls, shaking the building, and rattling the windows before throwing one open. It beat against the frame for several moments, before a crow perched on the window's sill, staring at her with three eyes.

'CAW!'

The gaze of the strange black bird remained fixed on her, watching her closing the gap between them.

'CAW!' It sounded once more, before flying off.

The window opened up to face the end of the courtyard, nearest to the armory. Her eyes refused to believe what she was seeing. The architecture of the surrounding buildings was different, not like the Winterfell she knew. It was cleaner, and more organized, with stone pathways leading to and fro.

'THUNK!'

'Those sound like blunted training swords,' she tried peering around the side of the guest house but was obstructed by a strange building, one made of wood and stone, similar to the buildings in Ursa's books. She climbed out of the window, landing oddly, and dirtying her breeches. Patting them off, she rushed along the flat stone path towards the sounds of battle, passing several people she had never seen before, some with Yi-Tish features, most without. They all seemed to ignore her when she approached the small crowd gathered around the stone courtyard. The only one known to her was Walder, the large stable-boy, who was off to the far side of the courtyard holding a little black haired girl above his head.

"Hodor…" a light voice drifted upon the wind, as Arya stared at the large man.

"Hodor?" she questioned. A memory tugged at her, but it seemed to be lost like a child in heavy fog.

"You move like a newborn babe, little brother of mine," she turned her head, hearing a woman chuckle between labored breaths while circling her sinewy, armored, opponent. Both looked to be the same age as her parents, and they felt and looked familiar. "Judging by your performance, am I right to assume that the King sent you back north because you're useless?"

"Ah, crass as always, big sister," a head of thick, reddish-brown hair, cut short, with deep blue eyes stared back at the woman with gray eyes, short dark hair, and a long stern face.

'Aunt Lyanna?' she found herself thinking, remembering how her father had described her. 'Father never said she sparred, but these buildings, they were not here when father was young.'

'CAW!' a crow called, but try as she might, she found that it was nowhere to be seen.

"Can't a man come visit family?" The man lunged forward, swiping at dark haired woman's feet, a smile on his clean shaven face.

"Family?" She grinned, "You must be mistaken. Your time with your southern family has made you slow and soft. Northerners are a rugged, hard, people," she gripped her blunted steel, training sword, feinted right, then left, before swinging high.

"Haha! Try better, next time," the man ducked, narrowly avoiding the woman's sudden slash, smiling as he did so. "Better. I do find it somewhat surprising that you are here," the man struck forward, followed by a series of quick slashes, all met nothing but empty air or blunted steel.

"Why is that?" the woman asked, crouching low.

"I would have thought you to have accompanied brother's wife to the Stepstones? Unfinished business and all," The auburn haired man stated, lifting his training shield slightly before launching a sudden low swing.

'Brother? Uncle Brandon? But he looked like a Stark, all of father's siblings did. So this can't be father or uncle Benjen,' she questioned herself. 'Who are these people?'

'CAW!'

The woman moved her feet, dodging the low swing, dark gray cloak billowing in the wind. "Meh, it's unfinished business for her, not me. She seemed far too eager, and I did not wish to intrude," she replied, the woman's feet paced lightly beneath her. "Besides, I have a school to administer, you understand? The Winter Academy can't run itself."

'Winter Academy?!' she thought, following the woman's lithe form with her eyes, watching her movements as she danced across the dueling square.

"Yes, yes. Still haven't grown tired of rubbing that in my face have you?"

"Not in the slightest," the woman smiled, aiming a horizontal slash at the man, which he expertly riposted.

"Those last vestiges of desperate pirates truly signed their own death warrants, didn't they?" the man stated. "I imagine this is the final time the Stepstones will be allowed to remain under pirate control. I am certain the King has plans to see the Stepstones turned into several colonies, complete with shipyards to police the waters of the Narrow Sea, and decrease the dangers of trade with the colonies on the Summer Isles."

"Is that so? Won't the three cities object?" The woman asked, as her light, black leather armor shimmered in the sunlight.

"Without a doubt," he replied, striking to the woman's side, hitting the broad side of her training sword, "but the King is not known for letting such slights go unanswered. The Prince has gone to negotiate with them. Perhaps a marriage offer?"

"Why does the fate of the Stepstones interest you?"

'CAW!'

"The Prince told me that I may be considered for Master of Infrastructure once Lord Royce steps down," the man seemed elated at the prospect of advancement. "If the position of Colonial Administrator becomes available after the campaign, then I would wish to hold it to gain some experience. Overseeing the building of a few roads, just isn't enough, not for the King at any rate."

"Too true," the woman replied. "Say what you will of goodsister's father, but he surrounds himself with able men and woman who know what they are doing."

"Like our goodsister, herself," the man tilted his head in the woman's direction. "She did well, choosing you to oversee the academy."

"I think so too, though Mormont seems to think her batch of students is superior. We'll see about that at the next tournament," her weapon struck out against the man's shield.

Arya found her attention drawn to the opposite end of the dueling square, and spotted a familiar looking red haired boy, staring at the fight as she had. "Bran?!"

He looked at her, "Arya?!"

They ran to each other, their first words asking the same question, "How is it that you can see me?"

'CAW!'

"I don't know, where are we? Who are these people?" the asked each other in a panicked frenzy as the winds picked up and swallowed the entire area in snow, before settling back down, and revealing a black sky with hundreds of dead things surrounding two figures standing at the center square where the man and woman had dueled. A very familiar woman stood at the center this time, the Lady Azula, a single burning torch lay off to the side, the only light in the darkness. Dozens of bright starry blue eyes stared out from beyond the shadowy veil surrounding them. Both of them remained paralyzed in fear, as the creature standing opposite of the Lady Azula walked towards her, its movements were graceful, silent, armor mirroring its surroundings, and icy blue blade reflecting the slowly dying torchlight. Her heroine shakily wielded a sword that glimmered in the murky night, while her right arm hung limply at her side. She struck, a look of pure fury had seemed to overcome her, as she clumsily dove forward, her left leg had appeared to have given out from under her.

The creature slid through the Lady Azula's desperate strikes, catching the sword within its icy blade, before reaching over and taking hold of Azula's sword hand. It lifted her above its head before Ursa's mother spewed out blue flames from her mouth. The creature seemed annoyed, and stuck its clear blue sword through the woman's stomach, causing the flames to die out in an instant.

"Lady Azula!" both shouted, causing the blue eyes to stare at them both. The strange creature threw Azula's body aside, as if she had been mere rubbish, into the darkness where the dead things were. She heard crunching and tearing emerge from the blackness before it spat out the shimmering red sword her hero had wielded. A bloodied hand, with broken nails, and bits of deep red cloth, remained attached to it.

She felt herself shaking as the creature drew closer, surrounding them was the darkest night she had ever seen. As the mysterious creature reached out, its body turned black, bursting into a murder of crows. She shielded her eyes, and reached for Bran's hand and felt nothing, save for the puddle of water she found herself thrown into.

'CAW!'

Emerging from the water, she gasped for breath, coughing out a lungful of the stinging liquid. It was dark, and many men surrounded her, all wearing Bolton and Frey colors.

"King in the North! King in the North!" she heard the men chant.

Her attentions were drawn to a large man, opposite the group of chanting men, with a burned face. He was astride a horse, concealing a small form in his arms. She stared for a moment, before coming back to the gate with the chanting men. Out came a man with a large wolf head placed over his own, crimson streaks ran down the man's neck, some had spilled over his armor. The world around her rippled like someone had cast a pebble into a pond, and she found herself in the same place.

"Kingslayer! Kingslayer!" a different group of men shouted. Some still retained Bolton and Frey colors, while the majority bore Stark, Karstark, Umber, and Dragonstone colors. Out of the archway where the man with the wolf head had come, emerged seven forms on horseback with others following on foot.

"Robb! Ursa!" she shouted, happy to see them, even though they did not appear to see her. They rode at the forefront, with Brienne, Jun, Jon, Lord Karstark, and the Greatjon, following behind. Ghost and Greywind trotted alongside Robb and Jon. Ursa held a chain connected to the shackles a man, with soiled clothing, and a brown sack over his head was wearing. She tugged at it, causing the man to stumble forward.

"Hahaha!" the loud, hearty laughter, of Lord Karstark and the Greatjon, reached far and wide. Causing the others gathered to laugh as well.

'CAW!' the crow had returned, perched above her, looking down with its strange three eyes.

'CAW!' 'CAW!' 'CAW!' 'CAYA!' 'CARYA!' 'ARYA!'


"Arya!" someone shouted and had started shaking her body. "Arya! Wake up! Ursa won't wait forever!"

She opened her eyes and found a single candle burning near her bedside. Jun's concerned eyes peering into hers. "I'm up," she groaned.

"Good! Took you long enough!" Jun smiled, reaching for the heavy curtains covering her window and pulling them away, revealing a night sky. "Mhmm. I suppose it would have worked better if there was any daylight yet," the small woman snorted, before looking to her. "I kept trying to wake you, but spirits help me, you sleep like a rock! Must have been an incredible dream!"

"It…" she yawned, rubbing her eyes, before drawing a blank. "I don't remember."

Jun brought up a small bowl of water and heated it with her hands. "Well, whatever, I'm sure it wasn't important. Hurry, wash your face, and get your uniform on. Ursa is waiting in the Great Hall, and she'll be none too pleased."

Jun reached for the folded uniform Arya always held at the ready and placed it at the foot of her bed. She rose out of bed and splashed a bit of warm water on her face. "Thank you for heating the water."

"No thanks necessary," Jun nodded her head energetically. "Well, see you there!" Jun threw open the door in a rush.

"Wait!"

"What?" her eyes grew larger, a bit of impatience seemed to be hidden within them. "I was sent to wake you up, not be late with you."

"Are you in a hurry because Jon is there?" she asked innocently, a slight smirk growing on her face.

"Maybe," Jun flashed a brilliantly white smile, before shooting out of the room and shutting the door behind her. A loud crash sounded out in the hall.

"She forgot about the stool, again," Arya giggled to herself.

As she entered the Great Hall, with Nymeria at her side, she found the usual people present; Ursa, Brienne, Jun, Jon, and Ser Rodrik, who seemed to enjoy breaking his fasts early.

"Good morning, Lady Arya!" Ser Rodrik bellowed from down the table.

"Good morning, Ser Rodrik," she beamed, hugging him, before rushing towards her small group of friends and family.

A plate of eggs and ham, with a warm roll, was set out for her. She devoured everything on her plate, picking at Jon's leftovers, while he tended to Jun's bruised shin with a handful of packed snow. "Who puts a stool there? Seriously!"

"That's the eighth time you've tripped over that stool, Jun," Brienne muttered, massaging her left temple. Arya slipped a slice of ham to Nymeria, who gobbled it down.

"I'm telling you, it follows me!" Jun defended herself, slamming her fist into her palm.

"I'm sure it does," Jon whispered, a small smile on his lips.

"You see!? He understands," the small woman replied, giving Jon a light peck on the cheek.

"Only one thing follows you Jun," Brienne stated. "Catastrophe," Ser Rodrik seemed to have been overhearing as he laughed, choking a bit on his food. "You see?! He understands!" Brienne gestured towards Winterfell's master-at-arms.

"That's enough, all of you," Ursa's low voice warned. "We have a busy morning today. Laps around Winterfell, until the sun rises, followed by sparring, and hunting in the Wolfswood," Azula's daughter looked towards them; Arya, Jun, Jon, and Brienne, a knowing expression in her eyes. "I trust you are ready?" Ursa asked, those golden eyes focused in on her brother.

"I am," Jon replied, holding Jun's hand.

"Good," she nodded. "The Lady Catelyn has given permission for you to be with us until midday, Arya. So take every opportunity you can to learn. After midday, we will all have lunch together," she stated, looking towards her. "Jun and I will join you for needlework with Septa Mordane, while Brienne and Jon continue sparring sessions. After needlework, we will meet with Maester Luwin for lessons on sums and houses. Are you all ready?"

They all bowed their heads, rising as one, and placing their used dishes neatly near the table by the kitchens. Together they exited the Great Hall, entering out into the cold night.