Arya

"So you're like me too? You had the magic-" There was a pause and Arya watched as the man before her sucked his lips into his mouth, like he was trying to force himself not to smile, "-the magic," he said again, words filled with wonder, "make you an adult?"

"Yes," Arya said without hesitation, hating that she had to say that. Because while it was true that both of them had been affected by magic they'd been altered in radically different ways. "And my friend Gendry." She gestured at the man in question who gave a slight wave.

"He looks like my brother. He's the biggest man I've ever seen." He paused, brow crinkling. "Are you a cousin or something?"

"Or something," Gendry said awkwardly.

"He is family though," Arya assured him.

"That's why I'm with all of you and not with my brothers." The man smiled at her, his grin so full of innocence. Arya doubted even she had ever smiled that innocently before. Bran certainly hadn't, the little trickster. Maybe Rickon? She missed Rickon. "Are we going to see Stannis soon?"

"Hopefully," Arya said, not wanting to make a promise she couldn't keep.

Luckily Renly was accepting of that and he went back to working on the assignment the Maester had given him.

She saw Charlus motioning for her to come over and she glanced at Gendry, who finally nodded and walked over to the table to take her place. He was awkward in how he sat down, clearly thinking about how Renly would have reacted to being around his brother's bastard, but this Renly merely continued on his work and Gendry began to steal glances at what he was doing; Toad had been teaching him how to read and write himself. Honestly him and Renly were probably at the same level now.

Brushing aside her wayward thoughts Arya moved to the end of the room where Charlus was sitting with Scott the Summer Knight, taking a seat next to the Sealord of Braavos who smiled kindly at her. "Thank you for visiting. It is very helpful for him."

"Reading his thoughts?" she asked, no accusation in her tone.

Charlus merely smiled, shaking his head. "I have been teaching children for a long time now, Lady Arya. I have come to understand what they need and can read their emotions well. Renly has been lonely and confused. Having you and Gendry, two people who have suddenly found themselves adults, around him is easing some of his worries."

She stared at the last of the Baratheon brothers, shaking her head. "He's nothing like what Theon or Tony have told me."

"I imagine not," Charlus stated. "We are the sum of our years. Had your reached your current physical form naturally you would have been a far different person than you are right now. Look exactly the same but completely different people."

Arya merely nodded at that, not interested in getting in another fight about the ritual Magneto had performed. "I don't mind helping him. I just wish there was more we could do."

Scott was the one who spoke. "Unless you know someone that can deage someone that won't happen." Though she knew he meant well Scott tended to always have his words come off as a bit condescending. She bristled at that before settling down.

"No," she admitted.

"Then he will simply have to relearn things," Charlus stated. "There are options to him, of course. Claims of a blow to the head if you wish to try and have him relive his life once more. Memory loss would explain his lack of knowledge in many things. However that would also mean all the sins of Renly the Older would fall upon this younger man's shoulders. He betrayed his own allies to the Iron Born we are told… he would face at best scorn. We could provide him with a new identity and a new life… depending on how far you wish to go. He could become just another nameless face in the crowd. We could also claim him a Baratheon bastard, or if that is too much the son of a bastard. With his beard gone he looks younger… a different hair style and different choices in speech and we could portray him as the grandson of Steffon Baratheon, Renly's grandfather."

Arya frowned. "Why are you asking me about this?"

"Because," Charlus said, "I think you might be the only member of the Brotherhood who does not view young Renly as a piece on the game board." Arya narrowed her eyes at that but Charlus merely continued to smile. "You must have considered it. Erik is plotting to claim the Iron Throne… the Blackfyres that came before him, the pretenders and the lessers, all made the same mistake in not having strong enough allies. That is why each rebellion has been weaker than the last. He is a student of history… he will not make the same mistakes as his ancestors."

"The throne is his right," Arya argued.

"The Iron Throne belongs to whoever is strong enough to claim it," Charlus argued. "And to hold it. Had your father chosen to sit upon it when he arrived in King's Landing that faithful day your brother Robb would be the next king of Westeros."

"Robb is the next King in the North."

Charlus though just stared at her. "But Erik won't allow that." Arya grimaced as she remembered that he was right; while the Starks would keep the title of Prince they wouldn't be allowed to be Kings. And certainly not Robb as Magneto had made clear she was to be the Princess of the North, the next ruler.

Scott let out an annoyed huff. "You can't be this blind."

"Scott…" Charlus warned but the man with the ruby glasses merely shook his head.

"No, she needs to hear this from someone," Scott argued before waving his hand at Arya. "Magneto doesn't do anything out of the kindness of his heart. Everyone he has selected for the Brotherhood provides him with something. Usually they are powerful fighters who have no where else to go. Gambit, Sabertooth, Toad, Blob-"

"Duke," Arya automatically corrected.

"But there are others because of their political connections. Lady Deathstrike gives him inroads with Yi Ti. He sought out Mystique because she is the daughter of Duncan the Small and that unites the Targaryens and the Blackfyres once again. You honestly think Mystique would have brought you here if you were just a crofter's daughter? You are Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell. You give him a hold on the North. Gendry is the son of Robert Baratheon… by marrying him to a daughter or granddaughter he merges the Blackfyres and the Baratheons together and another set of lords are brought into the fold. Renly will be a piece as well… the child who is the Lord of the Stormlands. He has Antony Stark and his wife captive meaning he holds a powerful Westerland Lord." Scott let out a scoff. "He is probably already looking into getting one of the Tyrells to send a son to him to marry to you so your second born can control the Reach."

Arya glared daggers at Scott. "I will NOT be treated as a brood mare."

Charlus smiled. "I think it more the reverse… you are the prize and the Tyrell would be a stud bull." Arya shifted, not liking that line of thought AT ALL and after a moment Charlus reached out and patted her knee. "I do not mean to say they don't care for you, my dear. I believe they do. Erik is not someone who seesthose close to him as fodder to be tossed aside. But he will always weigh his emotions for you with what you bring towards his goal. You will find everyone is like that. The question will always be if their goals match your own."

Arya nodded at that, jaw set stubbornly. A half hour later Hank arrived to tell Renly that they needed to work in the yard and the boy trapped in a man's body had said his goodbyes to Arya and Gendry, asking them both to visit again. Arya had assured him they would and maybe they'd even train together and his delighted smile had made her heart ache.

It was while they were leaving that Gendry was called over by one of Charlus' students, a man named Forge who had some questions about a piece of armor he'd seen Gendry working one when he'd last visited the House of Black and White. Arya thus was left cooling her heels, one of the servants finally taking pity on her and bringing her to a small solar where food and drink had been set up…

…and Rogue was waiting.

"Please don't go," the older woman said quickly, Arya's face having clearly betrayed the mistrust and worry she felt in being in the same room as Rogue. "Listen sug, I asked Forge ta git Gendry away from ya cause I wanted ta talk ta ya in private."

Arya carefully kept her distance from the woman that could drain her lifeforce. "Great, we've talked. Let's do this again sometime-"

"I know yar scared of me. And ya don't like me that much. I don't blame ya for feelin' that way. And I deserve every bit of bile and hate ya feel like spittin' at me." Rogue looked down and began to play with the napkin that sat before her and Arya was struck by how utterly wrong it was for Rogue to seem so quiet and unsure of herself. While she had only really interacted with her when they'd had their fight she had built up a mental image of Rogue as an angry woman that spoke her mind and didn't let up. Seeing her so nervous… it was like seeing a hunting hound curled up in a corner, trembling during a thunderstorm.

That was why, against every thought she'd had only moments earlier, Arya walked over and took a seat at the table.

"Thanks," Rogue said finally. "I wanna clear the air 'tween us… after all, as odd as it might seem… two of us are basically sisters."

"I have a sister," Arya said. "She died. And then the Night's Queen took over her body."

Rogue blinked at that. "I'm sorry… what?"

Arya sighed. "I don't have all the details… Tony said he is going to handle it because even though I'm an adult-" She held up her hand, "Yes yes, child in an adults body, everyone LOVES to remind me… but Tony says this is something the 'actual big people' need to deal with. But the long and short of it is that Sansa was killed by Joffrey and now her body is being used by the Night's Queen to try and help the Others take over Westeros." She paused. "It's a thing."

"It… certainly is… something," Rogue said slowly before finally shaking her head. "But you and I… we both have Mystique and despite my… issue with her I don't wan' us ta be at each other's throats. We both have dealt with her more than anyone else… that's a connection we have."

"Right," Arya said. "So… was that it?"

Rogue shot her a glower. "Ya ain't helpin' much with this."

"As everyone is fond of telling me I'm only a child who looks like an adult. I don't have the best attention span."

"That's true," Rogue admitted, conceding the point. "Fine then. So Remy told me that-"

Arya snorted.

"What?"

"Remy," Arya said with a giggle. "It sounds like a name Rickon would have come up for his direwolf. People should not be named 'Remy'." She shook her head. "Every time I hear someone call Gambit that it cracks me up."

Rogue smirked. "Why ya think I only call him that? Drives that lusty swamp rat absolutely mad." The two shared a small laugh at that though after a few moments Arya's chuckles tapered off while Rogue let out a soft little sigh. "I know ya hate me."

"Hate would require me to focus on you," Arya retorted.

"…I'll admit, that one hurt," Rogue muttered before letting out a sigh. "I wanted to let ya know… I'm sorry for what I told ya. All that about ya being pampered and not knowin' struggles… I'm sorry 'bout that. Shouldn't have said it."

"No, you shouldn't have," Arya said, deciding to act her age… or at least the age she was physically. "People always think because I lived in Winterfell that meant that I didn't do anything. That I had servants carrying me around from tea party to tea party."

"I know," Rogue said. "I know." She looked over the spread of treats and finally selected a small pastry. "My power… when I touch someone… I get everything. Their abilities… and their memories."

"M… memories?" Arya got out. "You read my mind?"

"Not like Charlus," Rogue tried to assure her. "I don't know what you're thinkin' right now, if that's what you're worried 'bout. I don't have no connection to ya where I know what you are plannin' each day or the like." Rogue popped a pastries into her mouth, chewing on it, though Arya got the sense it was less about her being hungry and more needing something to do other than talk.

It was why she herself found herself studying the pastries and trying to decide which one to have.

"These ones," Rogue said, nudging a plate towards her that had small little biscuits that had nuts in them. "You'll like'em."

"How do you know?" Arya asked. "I might hate them."

"Because I remember what ya like, sug," Rogue admitted. "Remember… I have your memories. They're fadin' away but… I have'em. And I am sorry 'bout that. I can't say that I know what its like, ta have someone take your most private memories and just… know that… but I have 'em."

Arya fought the urge to squirm in her chair. "But… you said they are fading away."

"For the most part," Rogue said. "But… they won't ever fully go away. Its like…" she rolled her hand about for a moment, "can ya remember normal days real clear? Where nothin' special happened and it was just a day like any other? Broke your fast and did your lessons and all that?"

"…not really," Arya said.

"Can when you were younger, real little, ya remember that well?"

"No," Arya said. "I have vague snippets of-" She stopped herself, a scowl forming on her lips. "Well, you probably already know."

Rogue though shook her head. "No, I don't. That's how it is for me. Only the sharpest memories remain in my head. I have fragments of Winterfell… but I might be able to find your room, if'n we were there right at this moment. But by the time I sailed over there, even if I went now? Nothin'." She ate another biscuit and Arya finally did the same, hating herself for enjoying it. "Because I have so many memories in my head only the clearest ones, the ones you hold closest too ya, I remember."

"Like what?" Arya pressed, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

"Nymeria," Rogue said softly. "I remember you gettin' her… and I remember how ya had ta drive her away because that blond piss pot Joffrey lied." Rogue's features twisted into a thunderous scowl. "Bastard. Whining about how Nymeria hurt him when he was the one that interrupted… and what happened to Mycah… should have slit his throat the first chance I got-"

Arya's eyes went wide as Rogue continued to rant. Not just because she was saying "I" instead of "you" but because her accent had completely changed. The honey-dipped tones that she'd learned from Remy came from the Stony Dornish had become the gruff Northern Tone that Arya had always used despite her mother and the septa trying to get her to sound more like a Southern Flower.

Rogue seemed to realize suddenly what she had done because she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the heels of her hands against her eye sockets, muttering to herself as she did so.

"Are… are you okay?"

"I'm fine, sug," Rogue whispered, her voice sounding like it normally did but Arya could tell she was forcing it. "Like I said… my powers… the strong and sharp memories leave an imprint." She shook her head. "Better than when I accidently touched Sabertooth… I spent half a week snarlin' like a dog and I still can't get my nails to look right." Arya grimaced; as much as Sabertooth had grown on her she wasn't sure she'd ever want his memories bouncing around in her head. "And that's why I was hoping to catch you… because I want to make up for that. For seeing what I shouldn't have. And there is only one way to do that."

"And that is?"

"Tell ya everything."

And she did.

Rogue began from her earliest memories. Of how she'd been told by her guardians that she'd been found in an alley, her mother died but from no wound that could be found on her body. Of how even though she herself had never been to Westeros she spoke like the Stony Dornish because her guardians had been from there, having fought as sellswords for Maegor the Cruel against the Faith and when he had died they had been forced to flee Westeros, fearful of just what Jaehaerys the Wise would do to them, let alone the Hightowers. She herself had traveled along much of the continent's western shoreline, seeing the Free Cities and the Sisters of Slaver's Bay until she had turned 11 and her life had changed.

"Powers occur more often in Essos," Rogue informed her. "The blood of Old Valyria is found more often… almost everyone can find someone from that Empire in their family tree. But the noble blood… that is rarer. Still more easily found than in Westeros, so those of us with…" she paused, "Charlus calls it 'mutations'… we are found more easily here than Westeros which is why it isn't as well known…"

"Wouldn't we have heard about you all though?" Arya asked.

"But you do," Rogue pointed out. "You hear the myths about the wise man who turned himself into a a draco man and now battles in the fighting pits, obsessed with gaining coin so he can purchase the ingredients to perform the spell again. Or the man with purple skin who can force people to do his will. For every Silver Sable and her sellswords there is the Frog Man or Doreen the Queen of Squirrels-" Arya's eyes went wide but Rogue quickly added, "Yes, of course, long may she reign and may the nuts always be plentiful."

"Praise Tippy Toes," Arya added; even across the Narrow Sea one did NOT insult the Queen of Squirrels.

Rogue nodded. "The point is… you hear about it but you think'em myths. Like me… my guardians had us go through the Disputed Lands and we got caught up between the Second Sons fighting the Thunderbolts. Someone lit some fires, some with noble Valyrian blood in their veins burned… and I awoke to find that if I touched someone I stole their strength and memories and later I learned their powers. I… I ran. I was… I was so scared that I'd hurt the people I loved…"

"You don't-" Arya began but Rogue shook her head.

"I do," she stated. "Mystique found me… because I had already bled I didn't age like you and Gendry did. At least that's was her theory. So I was a scared child and she… she was amazing." Rogue smiled. "Strong and powerful and… and all I wanted to do was be like her. We traveled for a long time…" Rogue swallowed. "I loved her. I still do."

"Then why did you leave her?"

The older woman took a deep breath. "I say its because of the twins. And ya, sug, that hurt. That hurt real hard. I was young and stupid back then though and I thought I was her one an' only. Then I realize she has a daughter and a son out there and… and I felt like I was just a replacement for them. That she was usin' me cause she didn't have'em in her life. And that the moment she got'em back she'd abandon me."

Rogue paused.

"I say that," she repeated. "But that ain't the truth, Arya. I left because… I was tired of fightin'. Mystique… she so desperately wants to help Magneto take back the throne and I get it! I get it! Its theirs. But… it ain't mine. I ain't meant ta be a princess. I just wanna travel and meet people and all that. Have fun. I can't ever marry. I ain't gonna have a baby… if I tried I'd kill'em in the womb, absorb their strength before I even showed. I'm gonna die alone and I'm okay with that… because I got friends and all that. But I knew I was never gonna be what Mystique and Magneto needed and I thought it was better ta abandon them before they abandoned me."

Arya mulled those thoughts over in her head. How many times at Winterfell had the children of her father's bannermen come to her wanting to be her friend but she'd pushed them away because she thought that in the end they'd want to be with perfect precious Sansa? Princess Myrcella had tried to talk to her several times but Arya had been happy to let Sansa speak with her because she didn't want to be hurt when she was passed over and forgotten yet again because everyone loved her sister.

How much had she missed out on because of that?

"So I abandoned 'em," Rogue said. "There was a man… Logan… he helped smuggle me ta Charlus, before Magneto had set up the House of Black and White and before Charlus was the Sealord. Before they made their truce. Back when they were feuding and Magneto's Brotherhood fought Charlus' students. Logan got me to 'em and then he ran and I… well, I stayed here ever since." She suddenly looked up and smiled sadly. "I hope you'll come see us again… there is more I wish to tell you. But it looks like Gendry is coming back-"

"Rogue," Arya said, cutting her off. "Why didn't you ever go find your guardians?"

The woman blinked at that before shaking her head. "I… I honestly don't know."

"They loved you, didn't they?"

"Yeah, they did."

"And you loved them?"

"Course I did!"

"Then why not find them?"

Rogue considered that for a long while. "I suppose… by the time I felt like I could… it felt like it was too late."

Arya didn't say another word as Gendry came to retrieve her.

Theon

"He won't be swayed," Theon stated as he entered Brienne's chambers. Normally this would have been seen as scandalous, as they weren't married and thus her rooms should have remained private. But Brienne was no blushing damsel… she would have beaten any man that claimed as much. As such it didn't matter to those they were traveling with that Theon walked in proud and strong, without any concern. "We are to leave the day after the Festival of the Unmasking endings."

"There is nothing you could do?" Brienne asked, looking up from the sword she had been sharpening. It was a truly massive thing, bigger than Ice. It was made of steel unlike the legendary blade of House Stark but Theon knew that in Brienne's hands it would be just as devastating. It was built thicker than most swords but with her raw strength she needed a sword that could stand up to the punishment she would deal to her foes.

"None," he stated. "Our business is finished. The Iron Bank has agreed that since the agreements Robert made with the Iron Bank clearly stated that it was an agreement with the Iron Throne, something that the North doesn't have, then they have no right to demand that King Eddard pay for the feasts of the South. Lord Manderly signed agreements that the Iron Bank would be the exclusive lender to the Kingdom of the North and the Riverland and that should we take any of the other Seven Kingdoms we would take on the burden of their debt."

"That seems more than fair," Brienne commented. "Which is odd for the Iron Bank. All the tales I've heard concerning them told of them always finding a way to make a deal that benefited them most of all.

"Oh, we didn't get out of things clean," Theon told her. "Lord Manderly has agreed that any contracts the Kingdom makes in Essos would also run through the Iron Bank. They will also be allowed to set up three new branch houses in the Kingdom: White Harbor, Winterfell, and Riverrun. All which will be under their full control, with the lands the branch houses sit on ceded to the Iron Bank to rule as they wish."

"That sounds more like them," Brienne stated. "I assume they won't be taxed?"

"Not in the slightest. I'm not sure how the King will feel about it but it was our best option." Theon shook his head. "I know he wishes we could go back to a time when all was bartered and a man's holdings were recorded by the food they kept rather than the gold but if we are to be a true kingdom we must have ties to the Iron Bank."

Brienne nodded. "He'll just have to accept that then." She set her sword carefully down on the bed and stood, stretching her arms up. It had been a bit of an issue finding proper rooms for them in Braavos, what with the Festival already seeing people from all over Essos coming to enjoy the feasting and spectacles the city had to offer, and it had been made worse by Brienne's size. Honestly some of the rooms Theon had seen barely contained HIM, let alone the massive green woman.

'Of course it is because she is so big we got this room,' he thought to himself with a rueful shake of his head. When the innkeep had seen Brienne he had quickly insisted that they be upgraded to the best rooms he had, including one that was tall enough to allow her to easily move about. It wasn't because he feared her, however... upon meeting the man's wife, who had been able to look Brienne right in the eye, along with the man's mother (who was also quite a large woman) it had become clear that he knew it wise to keep tall women nice and happy.

"That's why Lord Manderly wishes to leave as soon as it is respectful to do so. He worries that rumors may begin to spread about the agreements he made and he wishes to speak to his grace so he might make sure King Eddard understands just what he has chosen and why." Theon went over to a pitcher of water and poured himself a glass; it was far too hot in Braavos, even with the sea breeze that was constantly coming off the Narrow Sea. He kept drinking water and sweating it out, to the point that he couldn't remember the last time he'd taken a piss. "If it weren't for the fact that banker we met with invited Lord Manderly to the Bank's party on the final night of the Festival we'd be leaving already."

"It feels odd that the bankers would throw a party," Brienne stated. "Everything I've heard about them has made me believe that for all their love of fine robes and outfitting the Iron Bank itself with the best in décor that they prefer to keep a tight grip on their coin."

"It is expected, from what I gathered," Theon said. "All in Braavos want to show their openhandedness when it comes to the Festival, including the Iron Bank. It would make them seem like they weren't truly Braavosi, otherwise."

"I suppose that makes sense. No different than a Westerosi Lord needing to throw a tourney for a child's nameday… they might not wish to but they do so because it would make them look poor in the eyes of their neighbors."

"That's why-" he paused, scowling slightly. "Sorry, I was about to speak of the Iron Isles." It was a habit he still found himself engaging in, making the little comments about how his first home was so much better in everything than the rest of the world. He was working hard to make sure he didn't do it anymore, preferring to reference the North, but it still slipped through. 'You are a Bracken now, not a Greyjoy,' he mentally reminded himself.

"So we are here for their festival and then we depart?"

"We do," Theon said. "Lord Manderly is instructing his men that they are to not indulge at the party… he wants them sober when we shove off. We will be leaving at first light." He sighed and collapsed finally into a chair. "I will try again to talk him out of it but I doubt I will be able to do anything. He has all the reasons in the world to do this and my excuses are beginning to sound false even to my ears."

"You should tell him the truth," Brienne argued. "if he knew about Princess Arya-"

"He would think me mad," Theon said, cutting her off. "I think it mad at some points too. She was a little girl when we all last saw her and now she is as old as Robb. She can phase through walls and she is aligned with a Blackfyre… Lord Manderly will think me ill and confine me to my chambers." He shook his head. "No, Lord Manderly did not know Arya… he won't see her now in the woman's she's been turned into."

"Did he know Lyanna?" Brienne asked. "Lord Antony said she resembled her…"

"He may have but that won't do us much good. He'll say…" he rolled his hand about, "she is Brandon Stark's bastard or something like that. The timing is just close enough."

"Lord Antony?" Brienne asked only to frown. "No… no, he would not believe him. He is still seen as a traitor to the North." It was only because Theon was so close to his grace, serving as an unofficial squire during the first few months of King Eddard's return, that had allowed him to learn that Lord Antony was on their side, working to try and midigrate the damage the Lannisters did from the inside.

"Exactly," Theon stated before letting out a frustrated huff. "Perhaps I should just stay in Braavos… I could convince her to return-"

"If you do that everyone will claim you ran. You will never be able to return to Westeros." Brienne walked over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. "You must remember why you are here, Theon. All of this is to remove the death sentence from your head for the actions of your sister."

"And I'll be dead by the King's hand if I return to Westeros with Arya remaining in Braavos!" he complained. "If I say there is a better chance of me getting her to see reason-"

There was a knock on the door, interrupting him from saying anything more, and when Brienne opened it Theon was startled to find Arya staring at him.

"When do you leave for Westeros?" she asked.

"I… what?"

"When do you leave for Westeros?"

"…the morning after the final night of the Festival," Theon got out.

"Good… I will meet you at the docks. I may need to leap onto the boat if Mystique gets too clingy."

Brienne frowned, finding her tongue which was a good thing because Theon was utterly bewildered. "I don't understand…" she said.

"I am not making the same mistake of Rogue," Arya said. "I am not letting fear dominate me anymore. I'm going home, Theon."

And with that she walked away.

"…your guess is as good as mine," Brienne said helplessly.