They were half-way through eating when the large wooden door swung open and the man she least desired to see entered as though he had some power within the halls, glancing around dismissively and then beginning to stride towards the head table. She tilted her head slightly, glancing around the room. She hadn't given away her knowledge of her betrothal and she was almost morbidly curious how the scene would play out. Would they try and cover it to tell her under more controlled circumstances? Would they admit their arrangement outright? Would they pull her aside? Would it be public?

Her mother rose from her seat, seeming just a bit more pale in the candlelight. "Lord Walder." The woman greeted the latecomer. "You do not normally join us for meals. I did not expect to see you this night."

"As I hadn't expected to be here." He responded gruffly, not sparing her a glance as he zeroed in on Arya. "But I heard some news I wanted to confirm with my own eyes."

"Ah, yes, joyous news indeed." Catelyn replied. "Would you care to sup with us? We can find a seat for you, I'm sure." She offered then, clearly trying to get him to turn his attention from her daughter to herself.

"No." He replied gruffly. "It appears I have some things to put into motion. I think I've waited patiently enough, there's no further reason to delay and the wedding will happen within the fortnight.., Unless you disagree?" He challenged, sneer in his voice.

Lady Catelyn paled a shade further, hands clasped so tightly Arya could see the whites of her knuckles. "My daughter only just returned home a scant number of hours ago. We're holding a celebration to welcome her home tomorrow. We will discuss this afterwards." She told him sternly. Arya could still hear the waver in her voice.

He sneered again, though Arya thought it might've supposed to have been a smile from the flash of yellowed teeth he showed. "We can discuss it on the morrow if that is your wish, but it won't delay my decision." He warned.

"I wish you a pleasant Eve, Lord Walder." Her mother announced in clear dismissal and sat back in her chair, reclaiming her utensils calmly.

Arya watched curiously as the greasy old man left the hall and then turned back to her mother, who was attempting to go on as though nothing odd had happened. Whispers had picked up throughout the room but it remained much more quiet than it had been before the interruption. She felt hundreds of eyes watching her and she turned her words over in her head before she spoke them. "Is someone getting married?" She queried innocently, widening her eyes slightly for added effect.

Looks were exchanged amongst her family and she watched them all in interest. No one answered immediately and a further hush fell over the room. She pressed further, seeing their discomfort grow as the conversation reluctantly continued. resisting the urge to smirk as she took a bit of petty revenge for the situation as a whole. "You know, I was actually just thinking that I couldn't remember ever attending a wedding before. What fortuitous timing!" she exclaimed, allowing her lips to curl in a joyful smile.

"Now isn't the appropriate time to discuss this, Arya." Her mother shushed her quietly. "We can talk more after the meal."

"Is it anyone I might know? Perhaps they wouldn't mind my attending for curiosity's sake." She continued, ignoring the attempted brush off.

"We will discuss this after dinner." Catelyn told her firmly, and then pointedly turned the subject away by speaking with Robb about something else entirely and thus removing the option for her to press on. Her brother shot a brief uncomfortable look in her direction but went along with the change all the same. That was okay, she was patient enough to wait. She acted as expected, following all of her courtesies and making small talk with her siblings. In all honestly, it might have been the longest and most uncomfortable meal of her life, but she'd learned to hide her emotions very well indeed.

It wasn't wholly unenjoyable, she supposed, for she truly did relish being close to her siblings once again. It was the feeling of her every movement being observed and picked apart by the overly attentive masses that was driving her to distraction. It make her skin itch something fierce and it made her long for the bliss being No One once held for her- to exist in the shadows and never the center of attention. Now, every time she glanced towards the room she found eyes locked upon her, watching her like some exotic specimen.

She knew it wasn't entirely their fault. She had been gone for a long time and no one knew where she had been- only that she had appeared unexpectedly after almost seven years without a word from her, accompanying the Lannisters of all families. She'd known there would be curiosities and questions, and she'd accepted all that came with her decision when she decided to return home. She could hardly change her mind at this point in the game. So she sat through dinner in it's entirety, a perfectly poised Lady of Winterfell, and when she was bid to once again follow her family from the room she did so eagerly.

She found herself again in the same room she'd spent so much time as a child observing her family as they clearly shored themselves up for the coming conversation. They clearly expected her to express her disapproval in some loud and obstinate way as she'd have done as a child, and she wondered to herself how much it would throw them off when she didn't.

"Arya, child.." Her Mother began, sitting beside her. "I never meant for you to find out so soon or so suddenly…"

"Find what out, Mother?" She asked innocently, hands clasped neatly in her lap.

The woman's blue eyes dropped from her own and she didn't meet them again as she explained. "War… War instills desperation in us all. It makes us do things we otherwise wouldn't ever do.. and this war particular was has lasted quite a long time."

She seemed to steel herself, lifting her eyes back to grey. "But, somethings we always knew would happen eventually. Things like marriage and starting a family of your own. When you became of age to marry, a betrothal was put into place between you and an.. ally of ours."

"Oh?" She quired, tone still calm and curious. "Which ally? If I might ask?"

She saw her mother's jaw clench for a moment before she answered. "With House Frey."

"I see." They were watching her as though they expected an explosion and she could see her sister wringing her hands across the room. "House Frey is rather large.. Do you know which of his sons or grandson's I'm to marry?"

Their apprehension turned more to confusion and she saw her Mother and Robb exchange another look. "Lord Walder has not seen fit to share that bit of news with us yet. The terms were left open until you were found."

Her anger flared briefly, but she was able to keep it covered. They couldn't even be bothered to find out which of his horrible spawn she was to be stuck with? "I see." She said instead. "You've given me quite a lot to think on Mother. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll call it a night. It's been a long journey, I'm sure you understand."

"Oh! Yes, of course. I suppose we will see you in the morn. Arya, sweetling-" the woman paused before she could clear the door. "are you truly okay with this union? You're not going to do anything rash, are you?"

Arya smiled, turning back so her mother could see her guiltless expression. "Of course I won't do anything rash, mother. As you said, we always knew this would happen eventually. I will do my duty and marry whichever of Lord Frey's family he wishes me to, as soon as he wishes me to do so. I know my duty." She vowed, watching the surprise once again flair on their faces before she took her leave in truth.

She only returned to her room long enough to pull on her boots, arm herself and draw her cloak. She would have changed back into her traveling clothes, but they seemed to have been removed from her room, much to her dismay. A warm nightgown had been left in their place across the foot of her bed. She paused to look down at it oddly, for she hadn't even seen anything like it since fleeing Kings Landing so many years before. It seemed like such a frivolous thing to dawn such soft and flimsy clothing, used to slumbering in the clothes she wore, so as to always be prepared to move if need be… But she supposed such things would begin to seem normal to her again eventually.

Feeling a bit nostalgic, she sat down on the featherbed and glanced around the room, taking in all the odd little bits she had left scattered around. She could see the small pile of unique rocks scattered across the windows edge that she had collected with her siblings along the river as a girl, a leather-bound book on the history of the Targaryen's she'd borrowed from the Maester and never returned sat atop her bedside table, the small carving of a wolf her father had made sat beside it…

Suddenly feeling like she was sinking into the too soft bed, she nearly lept up and headed for the door. She moved through the halls that had once been so familiar and comforting until she came out into the open courtyard before the keep. The sun had lost since sunk past the horizon, but the moonlight across the snow, along with the torches and fires glowing across the landscape, was more than enough to see by. She took a deep breath, enjoying the sting of the cold air after so long being indoors.

She made her way though the yard and past the main gate until she could see the expansive camps sprawling out in the three visible directions. She thought briefly of heading back towards Jon's tent, not having seen him at supper, but decided she needed a bit of a break from the emotional upheaval that her family as a whole had been.

Instead, she turned the opposite direction and headed towards the red banners that had become so familiar to her over the years. She arrived to find the setup just as she had grown used to and she made her way casually to Tywin's tent, nodding to a few of the soldiers as she went. She ducked inside without hesitation, familiar enough with his routine to know he would likely be sitting at his writing desk poring over some letter or other at this time of night.

True to habit, he glanced up at her as she entered and then gestured her to take the seat across from him. She sat at his bidding and was promptly ignored for the time it took him to finish penning his letter. "How do you fare?" He questioned as he rolled the parchment, pale eyes fixing on her to take in her minute expressions as he'd learned was necessary in determining truth from lie with her.

"I fare fine." She replied easily, not giving away any of her feelings. "How fare you? Enjoying Winterfell's hospitality?"

His eyes narrowed at her just slightly but he didn't deign respond to her inquiry. "I am somewhat surprised to see you still in a dress. I thought for sure you would have changed back into your rags before you showed yourself again."

"My 'rags' were removed from my room whilst I was at supper. I do hope they find their way back to me else I'll owe your son a new shirt."

"I'm sure my son can make due with one less. You on the other hand.." He gestured at a small bundle of cloth set nearby. She reached for it slowly as he bid, assuming it the gift he had promised her when he asked for her presence. "…seem to have a shortage. I hope these will suit?"

Neatly folded were two pairs of finely woven black men's style pants along with three shirts designed almost exactly as she'd borrowed from Jaime though quilted to be thicker and sized to fit her slight frame. One was black, one dark grey and the other a deep red, all with unique and almost invisible patterns sewn in for decoration, subtle enough not to bother her. Folded beneath it all was a much finer cloak than the one she wore, made much thicker and warmer, with a warm black fur collar and several more pockets. "These are wonderful." She remarked. "Thank you. Where did you get something so fine on the road? This can't all have been made today?"

"I had them commissioned from the Princes' personal tailor. He has been working on it for several days."

"Trystane brought his tailor on the road with him?" She questioned in disbelief.

"Along with enough fabric to sew him an entire winter wardrobe twice over." He replied dryly.

"It's truly no wonder the company travels so slowly."

"You've no idea."

"Do you mind if I go change? This gown is driving me crazy."

He shook his head and gestured her off. She shot him a quick smile and ducked out, somehow forgetting that Jaime would have taken his tent back over, obviously expecting her to move back into her childhood home now that they'd arrived.

"Oh! I, I'm so sorry, I-"

The bare chested blond sat on his small folding stool beside the warm brazier, hair still damp and clearly having just washed and shaved down his beard growth, running an oiled cloth over his gleaming sword. "Arya!" He exclaimed in surprise. "I wasn't expecting you to come here tonight." She saw his naked toes wiggle and he looked almost embarrassed to be caught in naught but his trousers.

"I didn't think about it. I am sorry, truly, I, your father gave me some clothes and I wanted to change. I suppose I got used to using your tent without thought. I'll have to break myself of the habit."

He shook his head, standing to his feet and sheathing his blade. "You may use my tent anytime you please- no forethought necessary." He told her, pulling his shirt, cloak, and boots in short affair.

"Oh, you really needn't-"

He shook his head and shot her a smile. "Anytime." He insisted before ducking out and leaving her privacy to change. She found herself smiling after him but wasted no time in stripping off the dress and pulling on a pair of pants and the grey shirt she'd been gifted. The quality was undeniable and they fit her well despite the tailor not having her measurements- the cut of the tunic emphasizing her small waistline and the curve of her bust while still looking sleek and elegant and allowing her free movement. She pulled her new and thicker cloak over her shoulders and tucked the discarded dress into a ball in one of the larger inner pockets.

Feeling much more herself, she ducked outside and made her way across the short distance back to Tywin's tent. She found both men inside, Jaime clearly conscious of showing his presence so as to not be accused of impropriety while she was undressed. She wondered again what his father had said to him when he pulled him aside that morn. She wondered if the man somehow knew they had slumbered together the night before.

If he did know, she hoped he continued to play ignorant around her at least. She would much rather his son have to deal with those awkward conversations than her, though she would prefer him to remain ignorant in truth, even if nothing had happened beyond a restful sleep. "They suit you." Jaime remarked, looking her over quickly.

"They do." Tywin agreed with a short nod.

"Yes, thank you- they're perfect." She said again, truly grateful for the gesture.

The man nodded his head silently and gestured her back to her seat. She noticed his letter materials had been removed from the small writing surface and a game board set up in it's place. She looked at it curiously as she took her seat, recognizing it as Cyvasse though she'd never had the chance to learn it. "My son tells me you wish to learn." He commented blandly as though reading her mind, gesturing towards it casually.

"There's no one better to teach you." Jaime spoke, it sounding like a complement though his stifled grimace told her otherwise. "Although to be honest, I've witnessed plenty enough of these lessons already in my life and have no desire to watch another. I'll leave you to it- have fun." He nodded his head to them both and disappeared as quickly as he'd come.

She steepled her fingers together and looked carefully over the pieces lay out quite obviously for that purpose. She had the feeling he would be as exacting a task master in this teaching her this as he was in anything else, but it didn't turn her away from the prospect. No, instead she allowed her lips to curl as she glanced across at him, waiting for her first instruction.

She stayed for nearly two hours before Tywin shooed her out. Unceremoniously dismissed, she wandered over to the nearby fire where she could see her two familiar traveling companions sharing a drink. Jaime held out the wineskin as soon as she joined them, glancing at her inquiringly. "So? How'd the lesson go?"

Her brows furrowed thoughtfully as she took a draw and handed it on. "I think your father might be the most intelligent military commander alive."

The man's son chuckled. "Aye, he very well may be."

"And?" Bronn spoke up. "How'd the family reunion go?"

"Ahh, that.. it was... Good to see everyone again." She replied slowly.

"It was 'good?' Well that's not exactly high praise."

"No, I, it…" Her brows furrowed as she tried to explain. "When I was a girl, there was a lot about Winterfell that bothered me. After I left, I began to think perhaps I was bothered out of childish righteousness and ignorance in the ways of the world. I though perhaps my own perception was the cause of my unhappiness and not because of anything really wrong or unusual. Compared to the other places I've been and the types of people I've met.. Winterfell seems like it should be a dream. But now.. after naught even a day, I'm starting to feel bothered again."

"Bothered by what?" Jaime asked next.

"Several things, really. The way my brother is treated for daring exist in my mother's household, held solely accountable for the sins of my father undertaken in times of war. The way expectations are established without discussion or even regard for logic, the sheer blatant ignorance as to the going-ons in the rest of the world.. I don't know, things here just seem so.. limiting, I suppose. So stagnant. Dull."

"You a traveled woman now. Most of the people here have never left the North. They don't have your experiences to open their eyes." Bronn piped up, arguing logically.

"It seems a shit way to live." She remarked quietly. "That's a terrible thing to say, isn't it? This is my home and yet the prospect of spending the rest of my life here seems almost unbearable after less than a day back."

"I always did think the North the most dreary place in the Seven Kingdoms." Bronn commented, handing her the skin. "Don't think you're alone in that now that you've seen more than it."

"Where would you live if you could- anywhere in the world?" Jaime questioned looking honestly curious.

Her head tiled as she thought about it. Where would she choose, if the choice was hers? If she wasn't runny somewhere or other? She'd enjoyed Braavos, but she likely wouldn't be able to go back, not with how she left. She didn't think she'd be safe, never knowing if the faces watching her were true or a lie. Volantes had been interesting, but she decided she would never live in a Slave City after witnessing it firsthand. The Dothraki sea was unique, but rather to bare for her tastes. Dorne might be nice, but she hadn't yet gotten the chance to visit that particular kingdom.

"Somewhere warm." She said generally instead of naming any one place. "Somewhere warm enough to swim in the sea. Somewhere with traders and merchants and markets and lots of people. Somewhere that's easy to travel from.. There's still so much of the world I have left to see."

"You should visit the Summer Isles, if you ever get the chance." Bronn advised. "White sand beaches as far as you can see, villages built right up to the water, foliage you've never seen before. Animals in colors you wouldn't believe. Gorgeous, it is, nearly every day, no matter the season."

"It sounds nice." She agreed, picturing it in her head.

"Aye, it is."

"And you?" She asked the Lannister son. "Where would you live?"

"I rather miss Casterly Rock, actually. It sounds dreadfully boring, I know, to name my childhood home, but it's my favorite place out of everywhere in the world I've been. It's been far too long since I've been back. You might like it there actually- it's warm- on the Southern edge of the Westerlands, right on the Sunset Sea. We have sea trade, but it also lies just at the crossroads of the Riverroad, the Searoad, and the Goldroad, so there's always plenty of traders and merchants moving through."

"It sounds nice." She agreed before she glanced up to see how far the moon had moved. It was farther across the sky than she expected and she decided she should likely head back to the keep to get some rest. She pushed herself up with a sigh and wished them both a pleasant night before she made her way back towards the keep.

In the quiet of the night, she heard the rhythmic pounding of a hammer upon steal of a smith and allowed her feet to veer off towards the sound. She peeked in through the window and saw the long stretch of bare back and ripped arms working the red hot steel, shirt stripped from the obvious heat in the forge and hair sheered practically down to the man's scalp. It sent a note of nostalgia through her as she remembered finding Gendry the in the same state many a times before. She shook her head, pulling away from the window and continued on her way, wondering what might have happened to the apprentice smith who'd been sold by the Brotherhood to the Red Witch.

She made it back to her room without further interruption and tucked her new clothes away in her drawers. She ignored the sleepwear, stripping herself of her boots and cloak and then settling into the bed otherwise fully dressed.

… Where she sunk immediately into the feather filled mattress even more deeply than she had when she sat on the edge of it earlier in the eve. She lay still at first, waiting several minutes to see if she would become accustomed to the lack of support beneath her. When that didn't happen, she shifted from her back to her side… Then to her other side, and then further, laying mostly on her stomach. She tried every variation of every position she could possible consider and spent far too long shifting around before realizing how futile the attempts were and standing in a silent huff. She pulled the blankets and pillow free and lay them out on the cold stone floor closer to the fire, folding most of the fabric beneath her in a makeshift bedroll.

She felt herself settle immediately and only hoped she would wake herself before anyone else attempted to the next day. It might seem a bit odd where she to be found, otherwise. Still, if needs must, and she would rather sleep well, if somewhat unusually, and retain her wits than to remain where it was considered proper for her to rest out of some inconsequential fear of being discovered and, what? Considered bizarre? Why was it even crossing through her mind?

So things to consider… so many pointless decisions to make…

To be continued

Notes:

I'm telling you guys, this story is writing itself. I need to stop talking about what's coming next, because the chapters end up longer than expected and then I don't get to what I've promised! So, my favorite scene (so far) has been written, but I decided it would be rushing it to tack it onto this chapter and so instead cut it at a good spot and that scene will PROBABLY show up at the end of the next chapter (though the foreshadowing did happen here!).

Thank you for all the feedback you've left so far. I really enjoy hearing what you think and your comments/reviews can sometimes help me decide if I'm torn between taking something multiple ways. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! As always, thanks so much for reading!