On a bright morning, not so many days after Arya Stark fled the Twins, the towers of Harrenhal once again loomed over her. No longer was she the scared wolf-pup who slipped away from the accursed castle with little more than Needle and the clothes on her back. This time she entered through the front gates, with all the garrison gathered nearby to meet the new arrivals. And Alexandria itself, where Karl's people lived, must not be too far away.
She wondered how her former companions were doing now. Gendry - Ser Gendry - would be fighting alongside Lord Beric and his men, or smashing his hammer against some dented piece of armor or bent sword. Hot Pie was probably still baking his hot pies at the Inn of the Kneeling Man. Maybe they were doing well. Maybe not. But they were never pack anyway. Not anymore after they left her. Will Karl leave her too? Arya couldn't help but wonder. It would be nice to have him as pack. Arya didn't have too many friends by her side these days.
When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.Summer was gone now, and father with it. Autumn was fast fading. And winter is coming, Arya told herself. Not only to the north, but the south also.
A light nudge shook her out of her thoughts.
"Karl Grimes," the woman who came up to greet them had black hair, just like Karl. Was the sister he talked about? But Karl said Judith was little more than a baby, and the woman's skin was light brown. "Finally! Maggie's almost been tearing her hair out wondering when at least one Grimes would come back. And she wasn't the only one."
"I… I don't think I've met you before," Karl stuttered.
"I'm Samantha Fairbanks, but everyone calls me Sam. Settled into Oceanside not too long ago," the woman answered. She looked at the small group trailing behind Karl. "And it seems you brought back some new friends too."
Karl nodded. "Yeah. The knight carrying the wolf flag is Ser Raynald Westerling. Beside him with the dog-shaped helmet is Sandor Clegane, but call him the Hound. We also gathered a couple of Stark soldiers. And this," he pointed at Arya. "This is Arya Stark of Winterfell, Princess of the North and Trident. Daughter of a murdered lord, sister of a murdered king -"
Sam's jaw dropped. "Excuse me." She walked towards one of the Alexandrian guards nearby, who gave her a small black box. After a few moments Sam returned. "Pete says we're gonna sail back to Alexandria now. Leave your horses and follow me to the docks."
"But what about Craven?" Arya blurted out. The palfrey mare may have been meek, even cowardly, but Arya did not wish to be parted with her so soon after all they'd been through.
"Don't worry, your highness. Our vets will take a look at them, then they'll be sent to Alexandria when we have ships to spare." Arya did not know what a vet was, but at least Craven and the other horses would be well taken care off. She handed over Craven's reins to a waiting guard, before following the rest of the group towards the docks.
As they drew closer to the lone boat at the docks, Arya could see 'The Companion' painted on its brow. With its triangular sails and slender hull, it looked nothing like the ships she had seen at the docks of King's Landing so long ago.
A dark-skinned man stood at the gangplank and waved them over, helping them onto the ship one by one. "Welcome aboard The Companion, your highness, I'm Pete. Glad to meet you," he introduced himself when it was Arya's turn.
"So what brought you guys out here?" Karl asked.
"We're the B team." Sam gave him a hastily sketched map, with various lines surrounding the Alexandrians' isle. "Maggie wanted us to explore the rest of the island while you guys were away."
Karl's finger tapped the top of the map. "We're supposed to be north of the island, right? Did you guys find anything interesting this run?"
"We've just finished charting the coastline. We've gathered quite a few more survivors, those who got transported here with us. Almost a hundred at last count, and that was just along the coast. Though we only found two this time." Sam pointed at a girl pulling in a piece of rope, a young boy clinging onto her back. "Klementine and Alvin. Maggie wants them in Alexandria too. She says Oceanside is no place to raise a baby."
"A hundred!" Karl exclaimed. "That's almost enough to fill the rest of Oceanside!"
"We'll probably find more. Turns out quite a few people had their own small pockets, or were simply passing through the area. No large communities, but it adds up. Ah, Klem, here you are."
"Hi." The girl warily introduced herself. She wore a cap with a huge letter 'D' sewn onto it. Her skin was just a bit darker than Sam's, her hair just a bit lighter. Now that Arya thought of it, most of the Alexandrians she'd seen so far had dark hair and brown skin not unlike the salty Dornishmen, though Karl's skin was just as fair as hers. Perhaps the Alexandrians were two different peoples after all. "Pete said to tell you guys that we're setting sail now."
The Companion ploughed through the heavy mists which shrouded the God's Eye. The fog had become so thick that she could scarcely see her own fingers when she stretched her hand out, much less her companions. "Sandor?" The Hound did not answer. "Karl?" she tried again, but all she heard was footsteps tapping against the wooden deck.
And Arya found herself alone again, a lone wolf in the darkness, with her pack nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly a warm hand tugged at hers. "Ah, there you are! Come!" Arya found herself gently pulled forwards, forwards. "We should be pretty close by now. There's a lot to see once we get past this wall of mist."
Are you my pack? Karl's hand still firmly grasped onto hers, even after they finally reached The Companion's prow, but a burst of sunlight shone through the mists before Arya could gather up the courage to ask, and he let go before anyone else nearby could see.
The sun shone upon the silvery-blue water, as cold as steel. Far on the horizon was a sliver of green, turning into the shapes of buildings as they grew ever closer.
"They've been saying we might settle some people near the pentagon," Sam said when they passed a stone bridge, handing Karl a strange black piece from the pouch. It looked like two Myrish eyes joined together by some form of hinge.
"They?" Karl asked as he peered through the device at what appeared to be a holdfast. "Who's 'they'?"
"Maggie and Michonne. Pete said they've been talking about it, but are waiting for Rick to come back." Rick? Was that how the Alexandrians addressed their lord? And what was the 'pentagon'?
"Haven't seen dad since the battle." Karl passed the device to Arya. "The pentagon's over there. It's sort of like our… realm's castle, but with walls on five sides instead of four." He gently placed Arya's finger on a small wheel. "Turn this way to see closer, or the other way to see further. You can probably use this better than I can before long."
Arya looked into the Myrish eyes. She could make out lots and lots of windows along the milk-white walls. Instead of a gatehouse, rows of columns were lined where the gate had to be. She knew little of how to build a castle, but this surely wasn't how to do it. But with their guns, did the Alexandrians even need proper castles?
The lush greenery gave way to a town, strange towers and blocks of stone jutting out behind the shore. Arya had never seen so many differently coloured buildings before. Perhaps this was what it was like in Essos too, if the stories maester Luwin had told her were true. Stories told at a different time, in a different Winterfell, and to a different Arya.
"That's… actually never mind that. But the buildings beyond it are Alexandria. That's where I live." Karl chattered away with his back turned, and she took the opportunity to dab a few teardrops away. As they grew closer, the buildings gave way to greenery again, and before she knew it their ship was drawing close to shore.
Arya squinted at several moored boats as their ship entered a small harbour. "Where are the sails? I don't see any oars."
"Those boats can move on their own without sails. But not anymore. We don't have much fuel left after all these years. That's what Dad said anyway," Karl explained.
Fuel? Arya wondered. The boats lacked either fireplaces or chimneys, and fire could not make a boat move. Fire aboard a boat did only one thing, and that was burn a ship. Arya hadn't seen the sea until a year ago, and even she knew that fire aboard a small boat was one of the worst mistakes that a mariner could make. "Why do they need fuel?"
"I dunno." Karl shrugged. "I don't know much about boats. Go ask Eugene when we get to Alexandria. He's the guy who figures all these things out."
They had just left the Companion when two boys ran up Oceanside's only clear pier. Clearly Sam's brothers or cousins at least, with their black hair, brown skin, and similar features. "Sam! Sam!" the younger boy shouted. Arya felt a pang as she remembered Rickon would be about the same age as him if he had lived. The older boy seemed to be as old as Arya and Karl were.
"I'm back!" Sam exclaimed as she walked down the gangplank, sweeping the younger boy into a bear hug. "This one's Alex, and my other brother is James," Sam explained to her companions.
"More survivors?" James asked. His eyes suddenly widened. "Is that Karl? And are those… Westerosi?"
"Yeah, we got lucky right on our final run." Sam's voice beamed with pride. "We found two survivors, Klem and AJ, along the coastline. Then we found Karl Grimes on the other side of the lake, who brought back quite a few Westerosi. One of whom's her highness Princess Arya Stark of the North and Trident."
"Wow." James stood there for a moment, stunned, but he quickly brought up his arm and looked at the iron band on his wrist. "Time's wasting. We should head to the Safe-Zone. Maggie definitely won't want to wait any longer."
Moments later, they were crammed in a cart racing out of Oceanside. Not a single cobblestone was to be seen on the Isle's roads. Some were paved with dirt, not unlike the Kingsroad north of Moat Cailin. Other roads were covered by a strange grey substance, and several weirdly shaped carriages with no shafts lay abandoned at the roadside. Some were even starting to rust. Cars, Karl called them. And the strange lines criss-crossing the sky were electric cables. Karl said they could do all sorts of magic, yet all Arya saw was how ugly they were and she told Karl as much. "Wait till we get to my house," Karl laughed, his smirk every bit as annoying as Bran's used to be. "We'll see whether you still think they're useless then."
Everywhere Arya looked, she saw ruins of the civilization that had produced so many wonders. The smooth stone roads were littered with holes. Green vines climbed up unroofed palaces. Half a wall stood in mute testimony to a great dwelling that once stood there. Tattered banners bearing the stars-and-stripes flew in front of the few occupied buildings, a far cry from the proud flags that flew from Harrenhal's towers.
After a seeming eternity of increasingly uncomfortable riding, Sam finally stood up and gave a wave. "Welcome to the Alexandria Safe-Zone," she announced when she sat back down.
Arya peeked her head out of the carriage, only to gaze upon the worst fortifications ever devised by man. A line of wooden barricades was set in front of a narrow ditch, guarding thin walls that were only thrice Arya's height. She briefly wondered why the walls had no battlements, until she saw that there was not even a wall walk for the Alexandrians to defend the top of the wall. It did not take Bran the Builder to see why the village was nearly overrun several times.
A portcullis-like iron gate was drawn sideways as the carriage entered a village less than half the size of Winter Town. "Welcome back!" A spearman yelled at Karl as the carriage thundered through.
The village was small. Smaller than Winterfell, smaller than Riverrun, maybe even smaller than Darry or Castle Cerwyn. A few Alexandrians toiled amongst patches of crops, oblivious to the new arrivals. Tendrils of smoke drifted upwards from chimney after chimney before disappearing into the sky. A small windmill slowly spun in the distance. Something was missing, however. "Where does your family live? I can't see a castle or even a small holdfast!"
"We have our own house. I'll show you later, after we meet Maggie. Gotta visit a few friends after that too."
The carriage finally came to a halt in front of a wooden hall. She had scarcely stepped out from the cart when she was greeted by a flourish of trumpets, and a few drums too. A row of Alexandrians lined up to her left. Most were musicians scarcely older than she was, but a fat one was older than Father would have been, and carried no instrument at all. To her right were over a dozen Northmen, led by an equally fat lord in his merman-and-trident surcoat. They carried strange spears that were slightly bent at the bottom. Arya squinted. With their iron tubes and curved triggers, these also had to be guns! Northmen with guns!
In an Alexandrian tune Arya had never heard before, the Northmen sang of her brother's victory.
King Robb Stark led his host,
Through Oxcross like a ghost
Six thousand strong.
And the stars in the night,
Were his wolf's eyes so bright,
And the wind itself was their song,
For winter's here!
Not knowing what to do, Arya and her companions walked towards the hall as the music played. By the time it had finally died down, she was standing in front of Manderly and the fat Alexandrian.
"Ser Wylis Manderly, may I present her royal highness Princess Sansa Stark," the fat Alexandrian announced.
"You must be mistaken, my friend. Though it's been some years since I last saw her, this is the younger Stark girl, and not the elder." Manderly dropped to one knee and offered his sword-hilt. "Princess Arya, White Harbor is yours to command."
Arya grabbed the sword hilt. It felt heavy and cumbersome in her hand compared to Needle. She didn't know what to say, so she simply gave the sword back to Ser Wylis. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the fat Alexandrian whispering in Karl's ear. Karl simply nodded.
"Let's go, your highness. Maggie's waiting," the Alexandrian suggested. You're a princess now. Sansa would know what to do and what to say, but she isn't here, is she?Arya straightened herself, raised her chin and pushed open the door.