She attended her morning levy.
She welcomed refugees fleeing the fighting in the Westerlands.
She confiscated a disputed valley being fought over by two lords.
She listened to a lordling complain for half an hour about the rainy weather in the interior.
She pointed out to the lordling that the weather had nothing to do with her.
She called a halt after four hours.
Through the halls she went back up to the rooms that were her rooms now, not Jaime's.
Through the inter-leading door she found Lanna the nursemaid asleep. Through the inter-leading door she found Joanna's crib empty.
From the inter-leading door she felt a rush of incomprehension and fear and horror.
From the inter-leading door she felt the whole world shatter.
From the bed Arya shook the girl awake. From the bed Lanna sobbed that she couldn't remember.
From the corridor Arya summoned the guard. From the forecourt she summoned everyone else.
In her mind she knew that Joanna could not go far.
In her mind she knew that she had gone far.
From the depths of her mind, she called Nymeria to her.
In the depths of her mind, she could not find her.
On her feet she searched the castle all morning. She did not find Nymeria. She did not find her daughter.
From the back of her horse she searched the hills and woods all day, with men in red at her side and in front of her.
In the front of her mind, she needed to think, and act, and lead.
In the back of her mind she screamed and wept.
From the depths of her soul she wanted Jaime.
In the depths of her soul he wasn't there.
In the back of her mind, she called again for Nymeria. In the back of her mind, there was no response; the wall between her mind and her wolf's mind like brick instead of silk.
From the back of her horse, she finally wrote to Jaime, telling him what had happened.
From the back of her horse, she felt tears beginning in her eyes and holes tearing at her sanity.
Inside herself, she heard her ghosts: 'we told you, but you didn't care to hear.'
Inside herself, she saw her daughter looking up at her and smiling with the bright, guileless eyes shining.
Insider herself she saw her daughter walk for the first time, toddling on her short legs to where Jaime stood sparring in the yard; grabbing hold of his leg for balance, making him yelp in surprise.
Inside herself she saw Jo's sounds becoming words.
Inside herself she saw Jaime staring delightedly as Jo spoke for the first time, while Aunt Dorna glared disapprovingly and muttered something about the child having the worst parents in the world.
Inside herself, she saw the empty crib again; the empty crib that was also an empty herself, and she was hissing and snapping and lashing out at the hands that were reaching suddenly out to keep her in her saddle; aren't you tired, my lady, why not retire, my lady, there is nothing more you can do my lady –
'DON'T TOUCH ME!' she screamed.
Inside herself she saw her daughter where she saw her ghosts: in the feasting hall, with the rats, and the blood; and herself, hopeless, slipping in it.
Inside herself she saw herself; saw herself fail again.
Outside herself, someone tried to touch her.
Outside herself, she felt her dagger lash out and warm blood spatter her clothing.
Outside herself she heard screaming for a maester, felt hands seizing her and taking her weapons away, saw a man in red before her doubling up and collapsing, clutching his stomach.
Outside herself, she screamed.
Inside herself, she screamed.
The trees around her were like towers, and above them, night was falling.
From the back of her horse she was pulled to the ground.
From the ground she pulled out another dagger; pulled out another scream; pulled out another shower of blood.
From the ground she was dragged onto the back of another horse.
From the back of the horse she tried to strangle its rider.
In her rooms she was locked and put with women and a maester.
In her rooms she beat her fists bloody on the door and screamed.
In her rooms the maester had guards hold her down.
In her rooms the maester poured essence of nightshade down her throat.
In her dreams the dark trees reared up around her like black towers reaching to the skies.
In her dreams she saw Jaime in the woods; the fingers of his remaining hand twitching as he moved away from her towards a patch of darkness that she had been pushing at all day, but had never crossed.
In the patch of darkness in her dreams she saw Nymeria curled up, awake.
In Nymeria's fur she saw her daughter, wrapped up in the fur as though it were an ocean.
In her dreams she saw Joanna's tiny fingers combing through the fur, as though to soothe the guilt that Arya felt pouring steadily out of the wolf as Jaime dismounted and swept the girl up in his arms; covering her face in kisses and calling her a stupid, reckless child.
'How in seven hells did you get here?' he demanded.
'Shit?' Joanna helpfully offered, and fell silent as her father clutched her tight to him.
Over Joanna's shoulder, Arya could see that he was fighting back tears.
'Don't ever do that to me again,' he murmured, 'never again. Never again.'
In her dreams she saw her husband wonder silently how a one-year-old child could get this far into the woods by herself.
In her dreams she saw her husband glare suddenly at Nymeria.
'Are you responsible for this?' Jaime demanded.
Nymeria whimpered in response, and looked resentfully at Joanna, who was now contentedly sucking her thumb.
Jaime caught the hint, and looked Jo straight in the eye.
'Are you responsible for this?' he asked his daughter.
In her dreams the little girl stared innocently and mutely back at him.
In her dreams she saw Jaime continue to stare at Joanna, as though by sight alone she could tell him how she had come to be here.
In her dreams she felt her heart contract at the intensity of his stare.
In her dreams she told herself that he was seeing the moment that he could kill her; the child that had almost killed his wife.
Nobody would ever know. He only had to hold her a fraction too hard, and leave her; her bones crushed to powder.
In her dreams she saw Jaime kiss their daughter's forehead.
In her dreams she saw Jaime take their daughter back to his horse; Nymeria padding softly after them like a ghost.
In her dreams, Jaime said, 'Come, little one. Let's take you back to you mother.'