Part 8: Arya

The letter was from Sansa, that was the first indication that something was very wrong, it had arrived with a shipment of aged cheeses and exotic fruits and spices. Arya looked at the letter blankly as she stood surrounded by creates of avocados, eggfruit, and passionfruit, she stared past the letter at jars upon jars of cocoa liquor and cocoa butter, sacks filled with ginger, ossame, nardus and, cardamom…

"Lady Arya?" Alys Karstark asked, concern evident on her face as she looked up from a crate of silks from Dorne.

Several moons ago House Dayne had offered a small fortune for one intact Dothraki Stallion to bread against some Sand Stead mares, and her Lord Father had obliged. It was an eighteenth name day gift for Lady Allyria Dayne. Lord Stark had agreed and the youngest sibling of Ashara, the youngest sibling of Ser Arthur, had come to select the Stallion herself. It was the first time an ungelded Dothraki horse had left the North. Arya could still remember the day Lady Allyria and her guards had arrived, she'd never seen so much purple! Allyria was tall and slender, with a heart shaped face and dark, almost black eyes, much like Jon's, the purple of Allyria's cloak made her eyes look almost a dark indigo. The two could have passed for siblings, both were dark haired and dark eyed, although Allyria was taller than Jon she was shorter than Robb. Allyria certainly looked more like a Stark than Sansa did, and the rumours that Jon might be Ashara's had resurfaced. But Allyria had quashed them with a musical laugh. "Jon Snow is not my nephew." She had announced loudly and clearly, she'd smiled at the sceptical looks. "He is not my brother either, for anybody wondering if I was actually conceived at Harrenhal." That had been enough to silence most. Trade was always good with Dorne, but it had gotten even better since then, every Dornish House seemed to want to gain Father's favour, in hopes of getting their hands on Dothraki horses, the latest pile of silks were a gift from House Martell.

"Lady Arya?" Alys repeated again, drawing Arya from her thoughts. "Is all well?"

"No," Arya replied, holding the letter out to Alys. "I… it's a letter from Sansa."

Alys frowned and took the letter inspecting it. "This is addressed to your Lord Father." Alys pointed out in a somewhat chiding voice.

Alys was five years older than Arya, and sometimes she chided Arya as if she was a child, but Arya wasn't a child, she was the Lady of Winterfell, in a few moons time she'd be eleven and that was almost old enough to marry. "It wasn't sealed." Arya replied as if that explained everything, surely it did?

Alys' frown deepened. "Still…"

"Read it." Arya instructed.

Alys shook her head, her brown plats swinging around her face. "I really shouldn't," She started to argue. "It's not addressed to me, it's not addressed to you-"

"Read it." Arya repeated, as anger started to creep into her voice. This time the words were not a request, but a command. Alys seemed to notice the change in her voice, the change in her posture, the older girl nodded and started to read the letter. Jorelle Mormont and Mya Stone, having both noticed the commotion, made their way over towards Arya.

"What's wrong?" Jorelle asked, her hand instinctively moving to the sword on her hip.

Arya's left hand moved to her own sword, gaining comfort at the touch of the Weirwood handle. Frostbite the blade was called, Jeyne Poole said she'd never be allowed it if her mother was here, Jeyne Poole was an idiot. Arya didn't need a mother to know that Jeyne had been stupid to get herself pregnant to Harry Arryn, Jeyne seemed to have it in her head that Harry would marry her and take her off to be the Lady of the Vale. Maester Luwin had offered her moon tea, and her father had encouraged her to drink it, but Jeyne had refused.

Arya took a breath and released her sword, it was a beautiful sword, lighter than most, but perfect for her. The guard itself was castle forged steel, worked with blue moonstone, creating blue frost roses. The blade was also castle forged steel, it was narrower than most short swords, but slightly longer, and it had two shunts running down it, that was what made it so light. Mikken had made the blade itself, but an old blacksmith, in service to House Royce, had inscribed First Men runes on the blade between the shunts. The inscription translated to 'Nothing burns like frost bites.' The handle was carved from the Heart Tree in the Winterfell Godswood, Father had said that he wanted her to always have a part of Winterfell with her, even though one day she would marry and take her husband's name, she would always be a Stark. Roses had been carved into the base of the handle where it met the guard, but the practical part of the pommel had been left relatively plain, then perhaps that was because weirwood was only workable for a very short period of time before turning as hard as stone?

Arya watched numbly as Alys passed the letter to Jorelle with a shaking hand. "Lady Catelyn Tully Stark Mopatis is dead." Alys declared.

"Catelyn Mopatis is dead?" Jorelle questioned. Arya noticed how both women named the woman that was her mother differently, Alys using a title designed not to offend, and Jorelle confronting the truth head on. She watched as Jorelle carefully refolded the letter. "This was written three moons ago, we should take it to Maester Luwin." Jorelle advised.

Arya nodded. "No hurry, Father won't be back for hours, lets finish with the shipment first."

Arya frowned as she continued to sort through the shipment, the parsnips had been poorly packed, they had gotten wet and some were going rotten, she called some servants over to separate the good from the bad and see if the bad could be salvaged for planting. The grain looked better… her mother was dead, Arya could barely remember the woman's face, she wondered if Sansa would come home now? Would Sansa become the Lady of Winterfell and be the one that always had to stay behind? That crate needed to go to the forge, and this one to the masons… this one was for the orphanage at Wintertown… if it was Sansa's choice would she make Jeyne Poole send her baby to the orphanage when it was born? No, Father would never allow that. Arya's fingers brushed over the smooth hilt of Frostbite again, mother was never coming back… hopefully Sansa would stay in Pentos, she could keep her High Valyrian poetry and pretty dresses, she could keep her High Harp. Arya had a sword and an orvik (a whip) and a kohol made of zhavorsa bone (dragon bone bow). Madatti had made the orvik for her, and Zirqi had taught her how to use it.

It was late morning by the time the shipment was sorted, Arya dismissed her hand maidens until lunch, collected up all of the relevant shipping documents and letters, including Sansa's letter, and set off in search of Maester Luwin. She found him in the kitchens, supplying freshly picked primrose greens and flowers from the Godswood to Gage, the head cook, and testing the pottage. Maester Luwin had a taste for pottage, simple as the dish was, he'd often told Arya that it reminded him of his childhood. Luwin claimed that with the right herbs a good pottage could beat even the best of Gage's steak and kidney pies, but Arya wasn't so sure. Either way, it was a good thing Layi worked in the kitchens, Gage seldom knew what to do with the strange foods and spices that Illyrio constantly sent as gifts. Layi was from Essos, and food had tasted much better since she had arrived, she was a former Dothraki slave whom had worked in Illyrio's kitchens until her husband had purchased her freedom and brought her to Winterfell. Arya liked Layi, Layi had introduced her to Cacao, not the sweet candy chocolate like the traders sometimes brought to impress high born children, but proper spiced chocolate, rich and dark and bitter.

"Lady Arya." Maester Luwin greeted warmly, he gave a small bow as Arya entered the kitchens.

"Maester Luwin, Gage." Arya acknowledged. "I've just been checking through the shipment."

Gage's eyes lit up at that. "Anything interesting, Lady Stark?"

"More spices from Illyrio," Arya replied, clutching the papers nervously. "And this." She quickly shoved the letter from Sansa into Maester Luwin's hands, leaving him slightly startled. "I… it wasn't sealed." She said softly. "It's also three moons late, Sansa wrote it just after her twelfth name day."

"Lady Sansa?" Luwin murmured, he opened the letter and hastily skimmed over it. "Lady Arya, I… I am so sorry…"

Luwin's response made Arya uncomfortable so she did her best to ignore it. "You'll want to give the letter to Father, and these…" She shoved the rest of the documents into his hands. "There's something from Lord Arryn," She frowned. "And another with no symbol on the seal." She muttered as she juggled the papers. "There's a letter from House Martell, they've sent silks as a gift…"

Luwin nodded. "Very generous, we will need to reply, of course, they will expect some sort of gift in returned. I… a letter will need to be sent to Riverrun too, a rider, I think, not a raven. I'm sure they haven't heard, if they had…"

"You'll take care of it then?" Arya asked.

"Of course, you were right to bring this to my attention." Luwin placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Lady Arya, your mother-"

"I don't remember my mother." Arya replied. "Not really, I… I need to see to Blacksword, I haven't groomed him today." She turned intending to walk out of the kitchens, but Luwin's voice stopped her.

"You may not have known your mother, young lady, but I did." Luwin said calmly. "And I know that leaving Winterfell was the hardest thing she ever did. I was there, at Riverrun, the day she was engaged to Brandon, and the day she learnt of his death. I was there at her wedding, and I brought Robb into this world. I travelled north with her, and watched as she struggled to adjust to your Northern ways, I struggled also. I brought Sansa and you into this world, I wasn't there the day that Bran was born, I don't know what happened down in those Crypts, but I know it changed both of them. Your father is no more innocent than your mother, and your mother is no more to blame than your father. I don't know what the jealous dead whispered to them as Bran forced his way into this world, and I don't care to. What I do know is this; you cannot blame her and exonerate him, you are far too intelligent for such small thinking, your mother did love you, Arya, look how many letters she wrote you, did you ever write one back?"

"A couple," Arya admitted. "When I was younger, but I never knew what to say." She turned and exited the kitchens as hurriedly as she had entered it, she wasn't meaning to be rude, she simply had other things she needed to do, or at least that was what she told herself as she rushed towards the inner stables.

She wanted to be sad, or angry, or … something, but she just felt numb. The truth was that she didn't really remember her mother, and none of the memories of her sister were good ones. Her hand again brushed the Weirwood handle of the short sword at her side, she was only permitted to wear her blade when she was the acting Stark at Winterfell, which she was today, as Father and her brothers were away dealing with a Night's watch deserter. She had been gifted the sword on her tenth name day, as a sign of the increasing responsibilities that she was taking on around the keep as Lady Stark. She preferred the title the Dothraki had given her, Ver Zolat Ivezh: Wild Little Wolf, but she liked being in charge of the Keep, it was a big responsibility. Jeshi said it was her duty as a Khalakki, Jeshi should know, she had been a Khalakki once, a princess, before she had been a slave, but she wasn't a slave anymore so Arya called her 'Khalakki' sometimes. If Arya was a Khalakki then so was Sansa, and she was older.

If Sansa came back would Mya, Alys and Jorelle become her handmaidens instead of Arya's? Arya hoped not, Alys had finally picked up a practice sword and started training with her in the past year, and in return Arya had agreed to spend an hour practicing her stitching each evening, after all, Maege Mormont said being able to stich up wounds was important. Arya continued to let her thoughts wander as she groomed the young colt. Blacksword was a beautiful Dothraki horse, he was a darker version of his father, dark grey with black point markings and black socks. It had taken her months of work to be able to ride him, and she was the only person that could. Most people spoke to their horses as they groomed them, but Blacksword didn't seem to like that, he preferred gentle touches and silence. She was almost done when she heard somebody leading another horse in. She frowned, most people didn't use this stable, it was for Stark horses (and Theon and Harry's horses) only. But when she looked up it was Harry, leading his dappled gelding into its usual stall. Harry hadn't noticed her.

"Good boy, Surefoot, you've done me well." Harry whispered.

"You should speak to him in Dothraki." Arya said cheekily, she was sure he jumped a little at her voice.

"And good day to you, little ver." He replied giving her a mock bow.

They talked for a while, and she helped him with his horse, then they joined Alys, Jorelle and Mya for a light lunch of fresh warm bread, runny cheese, cold cut meats, and fruit. (Gage also provided some freshly made primrose honey.) Harry regaled them with tales of the Vale, though Alys seemed to laugh a little too hard at his stories. Harry was telling a particularly colourful story, one that caused Alys to blush, when Maester Luwin interrupted them.

"Forgive my interruption, I have an important communication from the Vale, Lord Arryn, would you please come with me immediately?"

Harry dropped the eggfruit in his hand and stood up quickly. "I'm not Lord Arryn yet." He muttered before giving Arya a quick bow. "Lady of Winterfell, forgive me." With that he turned and followed Luwin out of the room.

After lunch Arya and her hand maidens headed to the training yards, where they were met by three of the Dothraki women and half a dozen guards, to work up an appetite for dinner, but they'd hardly started practicing when Harry approached, looking grim, his eyes red as if he'd been crying.

"Forgive me, Lady Stark, I must return to the Vale immediately." Harry announced. "I…" His gaze flickered to Mya for a moment, then returned to Arya. "Best you hear why from your Lord Father, but I must go."

Mya took a hesitant step forward. "Is it something to do with Lord Arryn?" She asked.

A single tear escaped Harry's right eye and ran down his cheek. "Yes." He replied. "He took ill about a week ago, ravens were sent, apparently, but it seems I out-rode most of them."

"I'm coming with you." Mya declared.

Harry's expression hardened. "No, you're not." He replied firmly. "Your place is here."

"Anha efichisak haz yeroon!" Mya disagreed. "If Lord Arryn is sick, or injured, I can help! What's happened? Please tell me."

"I.." Harry's voice trembled, then he squared his shoulders, smoothed down his doublet, and stood up straighter. "There is nothing you can do to help, Mya. It is kind that you want to, but it's too late, Lord Jon Arryn is dead. I … I am Lord of the Vale now, and I am asking you to stay here, where you are loved."

Arya immediately threw her arms around him, hugging him as tightly as she could. "You're loved too." She whispered into his chest. "Dothras chek." She told him as she pulled back. Ride well.

Harry nodded. "Hajas, Lady Stark." He replied. "I do not know when I will be able to return to Winterfell, train hard, do not let your brothers grow complacent in the training yard, keep your whip on you at all times. And, most importantly of all, don't marry anybody that won't spar with you." He gave her a wink, then turned and walked away.

~~/~~

It was late-afternoon when her father and brother's returned, and to her amazement they all had puppies in their arms. It seemed wrong, mother was dead, Jon Arryn was dead, yet here her brothers were, laughing and joking with puppies in their arms. Arya immediately put her training sword away and went over to investigate.

"Arya, look what we found!" Robb called out as he dismounted.

Arya tried to smile, but she could feel that it didn't reach her eyes. "I thought you went to execute a deserter from the Nights Watch." She said softly.

"We did." Theon replied with a smirk, he had a shaggy black pup with bright green eyes in his arms. "We also found puppies."

"They're direwolf pups." Jon said, his expression becoming serious. "Their mother is dead."

Their mother is dead. The words weighed heavily on Arya, it almost felt like an omen. Their mother is dead and so is ours. She thought sourly, what was it that Old Nan said about things always happening in threes? But she wouldn't let herself linger on the thought, instead she took a closer look at Jon's pup, it was so different to all the others, white with red eyes, it reminded her of a weirwood. "White wolf." She said quietly, patting the pup's head.

Jon nodded. "Just like me." He whispered.

"I like him." Arya said softly.

Jon frowned at her. "Arya, what's wrong?"

Arya shook her head and forced herself to smile. "Show me the other puppies?"

Robb and Bran brought their puppies over eagerly, Robb's was a smoky grey with yellow eyes, Bran's was almost silver, but had the same yellow eyes as it's brother. Father had a pup in one hand, he reached out to Jory, taking the one that he was holding as well, and approached Arya. "They're a big responsibility, there are six pups, four boys and two girls. It has been decided that the boys will have one each, including Theon, an iron-black direwolf for my Iron-born son." Arya noticed that Theon's shoulders squared and he stood taller at the statement.

"They're beautiful." She said quietly.

"They are also dangerous." Her father replied. "You will feed them yourselves, you will train them yourselves, and if they die you will bury them yourselves. Do you believe that is a responsibility you can accept, Arya?"

Arya nodded and raised her chin. "Yes." She looked more carefully at the two pups in her father's hands, one was smaller than the other. The smaller one had light grey fur, and the same yellow eyes as Robb and Bran's direwolves, but it was the other pup that drew Arya's attention. It was perhaps the largest pup of the litter, grey fur and dark golden eyes, it was the eyes that caught her attention. She reached out to it and the pup licked her hand. "I like this one's eyes." She decided, Ned let her take the pup and she hugged it tightly, burying her head into its fur, the scent was somehow comforting. After a few moments she raised her head and looked at the other puppy, it was more delicate than the puppy she was holding, delicate and pretty, like Sansa. "This one is meant for Sansa, yes?" She asked softly.

Ned nodded. "If she were here it might be," There was a touch of sadness in his voice, there always was when he spoke of Sansa. " Theon suggested that I keep her, and name her Lady Stark, since I refuse to re-marry." Ned smirked. "But Robb suggested that you should have two, something of a reward for all of the work you do as the Lady of Winterfell. What do you think?"

Arya thought of the note from Sansa, there was a good chance that with mother dead Sansa would be coming home, if that happened she would be expected to give Sansa one of the direwolves. "I… I think that this one should be mine, but that I should help you look after that one, and if Sansa returns it would then go to her."

Ned smiled, he kissed her forehead. "Good answer." He pushed the smaller pup into her arms and Arya clutched it tightly.

"Father, Sansa sent a letter." Arya said quietly. "Maester Luwin has it..." She swallowed thickly. "It wasn't sealed."

"Arya?" Her father looked at her with concern and she knew she had all of her brothers' attention.

She hugged both pups closely. "I may not be looking after Sansa's pup for very long." She whispered, her voice sounding small even in her own ears.

"Why?" Robb demanded angerly. "Has she had enough of Pentos and decided that it's not good enough for her either?"

Arya met his angry gaze with sad eyes. "Mother is dead." She heard herself speaking the words, but it didn't feel as if she was saying them, it was like they were coming from someone else. "She died three moons ago, Sansa wrote, but the letter only just arrived.

Ned frowned. "Three moons, we've had two shipments with items from Illyrio in that time, I know we don't get letters often, but three moons seems like a very long time. Are you sure the letter was from Sansa? Are you sure your mother is really dead?"

"I'm sure," Arya replied firmly. "Just as I'm sure there is a letter waiting for you from Jon Arryn. Mother is dead, and-"

"We have no mother." Robb declared. "Sansa's mother is dead. And don't expect her to come rushing back, she likes her new family better. C'mon, these pups need feeding." With that Robb started walking briskly towards the kitchens.

Arya hesitated, returning her attention to Father as her brother's slipped into the kitchen. "There is something else, Harry arrived today."

Father frowned. "Where is he?"

Arya chewed her lip. "That's the thing, he arrived, groomed his horse, we had lunch, then Maester Luwin needed to talk to him. An hour later he was gone."

"Gone?" Father questioned.

"Rushing back to the Vale." Arya replied. "Father… Jon Arryn…" She choked on the words. "Harry says he fell ill about a week ago, apparently they were sending ravens, but Harry rode ahead of them all, he only got the one that was sent here."

"Jon Arryn is ill?" Ned asked, concerned.

Arya shook her head and hugged the puppies closer. "No," She whispered. "Jon Arryn is dead, Harry is Lord of the Vale now."

She watched as grief washed over her father like a wave, a few moments later he had schooled his expression and was standing straight. "I have to go speak with Maester Luwin." He whispered, he hugged her tightly, albeit briefly, then let go of her. "You've done well today, but this is not your burden to bear. Go, follow your brothers, feed those poor pups, let me tell them about Jon Arryn." Arya nodded and did as her father had bid her.

Gage gave them bowls of milk, and Layi showed them how to dip the corners of towels in them and let the pups chew out the milk, she claimed it was like feeding baby goats. They didn't talk about Sansa, or Mother, Arya didn't mention Harry or Jon Arryn, but they did talk about direwolf names. Theon named his 'Kraken', which Arya thought was about as silly as naming him something like 'Shaggy Dog', Jon named his Ghost, the pup didn't make a single noise the who time that they were feeding the pups. Robb's pup kept running around in circles and tugging at the towel, wanting to play. Robb decided to name him 'Grey Wind'. Bran couldn't decide on a name and rejected every suggestion made. Arya named hers Nymeria, after the Warrior Queen, Theon argued but Jon pointed out that anybody who would name a direwolf 'Kraken' couldn't criticise. That almost led to a fight but Robb calmed it down.

"What about the other pup?" Robb asked, pointing to the smaller female.

Arya looked at the pup for a while and thought. "Theon's right," She finally said quietly. "Lady Stark."

Theon looked over at her with surprise. "What? You're actually agreeing with me on something?" He scoffed. "That was only a joke, besides, 'Lady Stark' is a bit of a mouthful, don't ya think?"

"How about just 'Lady' then." Bran said quietly.

Everybody agreed, then went back to suggesting names for Bran's pup, he rejected them all. They were still in the kitchen two hours later when father came looking for them, his expression grim.

"Robb, Jon, I need to talk to you in private please." He said quietly.

Ghost was asleep on Jon's lap and Grey Wind was watching Kraken's wagging tail like he was about to attack it. Robb and Jon shared a look then Robb stood and scooped up Grey Wind, he held his free hand out for Ghost. Jon carefully passed the sleeping pup to his brother before standing, once he was on his feet he took the pup back. Robb and Jon were always doing that, communicating without words, Alys said that they behaved like twins, but Arya had never known twins so she didn't know.

Theon scowled as he watched them leave then turned his attention to Arya. "You should take that thing off now that we're back, you know the rules." He told her, indicating Frostbite.

Arya nodded, she stood up awkwardly with a puppy in each arm and started to head towards the door to go put her sword away, Bran quickly jumped to his feet as well, startling his puppy. "I'll get the doors for you." He offered.

Arya smiled at him, she hated it when Theon got jealous of Robb or Jon, and she knew Robb hated it too. Whatever Father needed to talk to Robb and Jon about it clearly didn't concern Theon. She gave Theon a pointed look as she left. "Yer affesi anna." She proclaimed just before Bran closed the door. You make me itch.

~~/~~