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The following two weeks were the most comfortable Arya had had in a very long time. She hadn't felt so relaxed and safe in many years. She was taken back to days at Winterfell, when she would chase Rickon around the halls and corridors. Where she would best Bran at archery and watch longingly while Jon, Robb and Theon would spar in the courtyard.

She thought about Sansa, the looks of disdain on her face when Arya did something unladylike, and the way her mother looked disappointed while her father looked on proudly.

Lady Ireena told stories of when she had been a girl visiting Winterfell. How she and Lyanna would run around in the Godswood, climbing trees and splashing in the lake. How they used to bathe in the hot springs and tease Lyanna's brothers.

But, however nice the days were, the nights were the opposite.

Arya dreamed of her father, kneeling on the steps of the Sept, declaring himself a traitor. She saw Sansa's face as she realised that he was about to be executed.

She saw the Lannister men kill Yoren as she was trying to make her way north with the Night's Watch recruits, and she saw Gendry being tortured at Harrenhall, before Tywin Lannister put a stop to it.

After one particularly disturbing night, of dreaming about the fight with the Waif, where she had received the two nasty scars to her right side, she woke in excruciating pain. Heart racing and sweat coating her body, Arya tried to get up and make her way to the water basin in the corner of the room, hoping to cool and calm herself down. As her feet touched the warm tiled floor, she screamed out in the worst pain she'd ever imagined.

Water and blood gushed down her thighs as her knees gave way and she collapsed to the floor.

Ireena was with her in a matter of moments.

"Arya, don't panic. You're going to be fine."

"Wh… what's happening?" Arya gasped, as another surge of pain travelled through her body.

"The baby is coming, that's all. You're going to be fine. Jeor, go quickly and fetch the Maester, the baby is coming now!"

Arya heard the main door close as Ireena called the servants to help get her back into bed.

"I'm afraid," Arya admitted.

"Of course you are, my girl. Every woman feels fear when they are about to bring a new life into the world."

"Stay with me?" Arya asked, sounding like the little girl she hadn't been in such a long time.

Ireena clasped her hand, "I'm not going to go anywhere."

Another bout of pain came over her as the Maester and Jeor returned. The Maester took one look and demanded warm water and cloths.

"The babe is almost here," he told Ireena. "When I tell you, I need you to push down as hard as you can. Can you do that?" the Maester asked Arya.

Gasping through the now almost constant pain, Arya nodded.

"All right then, push!"

Arya pushed with every ounce of strength she had left. She kept pushing until an infant's cry broke through.

"Is it… is it okay?" Arya asked, exhaustion threatening to overtake her.

"He's perfect. You have a very healthy son." The Maester replied.

"A boy?" Arya queried.

"Yes, a boy. Have you any ideas for a name?" Ireena asked.

"Yes. Eddard. His name is Eddard."