She felt someone approach from behind and pulled away from the man who was still struck silent at her words. Her brother's voice came from her shoulder and a warm hand pressed lightly against he shoulder. "May I cut in?" Jon asked. "I'd like a dance with my sister." He voice was firm and when she glanced at him it was to see his matching grey eyes locked on the man she'd just threatened so thoroughly, unaware of the words just passed.
"Take the crazy bitch." He spat, face still even more pallid than it normally was. He spun around and left the room, muttering to himself as he went. She watched him leave calmly, not giving away any of what she was feeling. It was only once he was clear of the room that she turned to the man who looked so much like her. He stepped into place as her dance partner faultlessly, still remembering his own lessons from childhood.
They danced silently for a minute before Arya spoke up. "What was it like at the wall?" She asked quietly.
"Cold. Hard." He answered simply. "What are you doing, Arya?" He asked, changing the subject.
"Dancing? I thought I was doing a pretty good job at it, actually, considering how long it's been since I've moved through the steps."
"You know what I mean." He told her, but continued when she didn't speak up. "You're home for the first time in years and yet you seem determined to drive everyone away before we've even been able to celebrate your presence back in our lives. What are you trying to accomplish with it all? Why even come home, if only to be as difficult as you can to everyone at every turn?"
She flinched slightly in his arms and he must have felt it, for his expression softened slightly. "I only mean that everyone is worried for you. Robb and I won't speak of what you shared with us, but everyone else still has questions. You shouldn't be so harsh on Sansa or your mother, they just don't understand what you're trying to tell them without using your words."
"I don't think I have the words to tell them… not in a way they will accept."
"Than you can't get angry at them for not understanding." He told her gently. "You must be patient with them."
"Did you come over here solely to scold me?"
"Of course not. I came because I couldn't stand to watch that repulsive leech touch you any longer. The scolding is happenstance."
She rolled her eyes at him lightly. "You needn't worry about Lord Walder." She told him. "I can handle him well enough."
He looked down at her seriously, his own brows furrowed. "You know Robb didn't have a choice, don't you? He needed men anywhere he could get them, we were outnumbered ten to one and the Frey's hold the Twins. It was too important an alliance for him to pass up."
"He had a choice." Arya told him seriously. "The world is built upon choices, Brother. You made the choice to join the Nights Watch; Joffrey made the choice to have Father beheaded; Sansa made the choice to stand with Joffrey; I made the choice to flee the Capital and then Westeros entirely; Robb made the choice to rally the North into war, he made the choice to trade myself and Uncle Edmure in exchange for four thousand men and a strategic crossing; Theon made the choice to attach Winterfell when he knew it was most vulnerable; Bran made the choice to go beyond the wall, he made the choice to come back; I made the choice to come back. I would rather we speak the honest truth than pretty lies."
"Do you regret coming back?" He asked, narrowing in on the way she spoke the last, sounding honestly hurt.
"No," She told him, frowning thoughtfully. "I don't. I simply need to remember how to be Arya again."
"You've always been Arya. You needn't remember anything, you need only be yourself." Jon told her quietly.
"As you say." She said simply, neither agreeing nor arguing with him, though she remembered well the beatings she had taken until she could convincingly proclaim herself to be 'no one' at all and fool the best liars in the world.
"How did you know House Frey brought us four-thousand men? That's not well circulated knowledge."
"Lord Tywin told me. He said it was a needed alliance for the North. A sound strategy."
"You talk of warfare with Lord Tywin?"
"Sometimes. We talk of many things."
He didn't seem to know quite how to respond to that and was quiet for several seconds. "That was some pretty impressive fighting this morn." He commented then. "Not many could fare near so well against the Hound, let alone be able to claim victory."
"He was easy on me." She confided.
"You call that taking it easy?" He asked incredulously.
"He should have knocked me out cold with the blow to my face. He held back his strength, else he would have had his victory then."
"It was pretty clear you know him. How did you meet? In Kings Landing?"
"Well, I knew who he was in Kings Landing, and he I, but only because of Father. He was always guardng Joffrey if I did see him, and I tried to avoid his presence as much as I could. I.. I traveled with him once, though, after everything.. when I was trying to get home the first time."
"You traveled with Sandor Clegane? Alone?" He questioned more firmly, sounding concerned. "How old were you?"
"I did." She told him easily, not seeing the problem. "I was probably three and ten when I joined him, four and ten, mayhap, when I left his company. I might have been the safest girl in the Seven Kingdoms, traveling by his side." She commented then pointedly, seeing him still looking angered at the thought. "Back before I could take care of myself nearly as well. Back when I was still just a silly little girl."
"I suppose you would know best." He agreed dubiously, not questioning her further but clearly still not convinced. "Though I'm not sure you've ever been a silly little girl."
"No, I have." She told him seriously. "I had a lot of growing up to do. How did he come to be here, anyway? I wouldn't have expected him to be welcomed in Winterfell."
"We met him at the Wall, attempting to go beyond it with a couple of men from the Brotherhood Without Banners."
"The Brotherhood?" She asked. "Why did those fuckers want to go beyond the wall?"
"You know of the Brotherhood as well?"
"Oh, yes, I.. I was with them before I came across the Hound, actually. I exchanged their company for his."
"I see." Jon responded lowly, frowning deeply. "The two men who accompanied him said they were driven to their location by visions from the Red God, though they didn't yet know why. They joined our company and helped us retrieve a wright to bring back and show the crown. In doing so, they helped gain us the support we need for the true war to the North."
"Which two were they?"
He looked at her searchingly. "Priest Thoros of Myr and Lord Beric Dondarrion. Do you know them, too?"
"Yes, I do. I owe them a debt."
"You owe them a debt? You're starting to sound like a Lannister for all the time you spend with them. Though how you could have traveled with so many of my men without them mentioning it…" It began as a tense jest but ended with him shaking his head slightly in befuddled annoyance.
"The Brotherhood sold a friend of mine to a Red Witch for some coin. They were supposed to be bringing me to Riverrun to meet up with Robb and his army, but they decided hunting a Lannister raiding party was more pressing a priority. I'm not surprised they didn't mention me to you. Are they here now, too?"
"Aye, they are, but they are friends to us now, whatever they might have done before. I could not have survived without them at my back. They returned to Winterfell with us after we succeed in our task and they've remained here to stand with us through the end."
"How did you manage it? Capturing one of them?" She questioned, turning her thoughts from those she once liked and then hated so passionately for a time.
"With much difficulty. One wandered away from the army and got stranded on a bluff. It called the army towards it and we ended up in a skirmish with almost too many of them. I'm still not sure we would have succeed without the Brotherhood and the men Robb sent with us. It was still far too close for my tastes."
"Do you still have it? The wright?"
"No, we destroyed it after it served it's purpose. There was no point in keeping it alive any longer."
"Oh. I should like to see what one looks like."
"It looked like Death, flesh rotting off its bones but somehow still on its feet and fighting. They're terrible beings and I wouldn't like you to be around them."
"I know Death, Jon. It doesn't scare me."
"It scares me." He admitted to her, brows furrowed once again. "You should take it seriously Arya- there're so very many of them, you can't imagine how far their army spreads.."
He seemed so solemn that it brought a flash of guilt to her heart, though she hadn't said anything untrue. "You sound so much like Father now." She told him with a sad smile, changing the subject once again. "He would be proud of you- of the man you've become. Lord Commander of the Nights Watch before you even reached twenty. That's quite impressive." She complemented him, drawing a small sad-looking smile of his own in return.
"There's something I need to tell you about father, actually, but not tonight." He told her just as the song faded away and another began. They came to a stop and he pressed a brotherly kiss to her forehead before passing her hand to their elder brother next, not allowing any of the hovering lords to step in just yet.
The next song was livelier and she had a harder time remembering the steps. Luckily, her brother led her true and she doubted anyone else picked up on her small missteps. "It's been some time since I danced in truth." She excused herself quietly as she forced herself to keep her chin raised so as to not look down at their feet.
"I can imagine. Have no fear, I find myself dancing far more now than I ever thought possible- especially in wartime. Apparently celebration helps keep morale high."
"I suppose it's a good thing you have your wife to accompany you, then."
"It is, yes." He agreed, smiling down at her with his sparkling Tully blue eyes.
"How did you meet a Volantes woman anyway?" She asked curiously.
"On the battlefield, actually... She was uh, getting ready to saw a man's leg off."
Arya's head tiled back slightly as a sudden pearl of laughter broke free. "Yes, I suppose that would catch one's attention. She seems nice. She's very pretty.. As are your children.." She complemented.
He smiled at her again, twirling her around. "You've become quite beautiful yourself, little sister."
She rolled his eyes but didn't argue, not wanting to encourage him to argue back in turn. "I'm happy for you- that you've been able to find such happiness in such poor times." She told him simply before the pace increased. Because the song was so much faster, they didn't have as much time to talk and it was soon time to change partners once again.
She found her hand caught by one of the Northern lords, and the warning look she caught her mother sending her helped her decide to endure the next few minutes. It wasn't just a few minutes though, because he had was passed off to another Northman, and then a third. By then she was thoroughly done being courteous and had planned to duck off the floor before should could be grabbed again, but unfortunately she didn't quite make it.
Bronn stepped in front of her, shooting her an amusing look as he held out his own hand to her. She felt herself smile, knowing he at least would be more entertaining than the strangers who'd been holding her the last however long. True to his personality, his moves were slightly more showy than was typical and he hummed and sung under his breath to the beat of the music. He spun her faster around, twirling her until she was nearly dizzy and then held her firmly enough that she didn't stumble before her head stopped spinning. She laughed more than once during and it was easiest the funniest dance she had thus far that night.
Feeling parched, she again planned to duck off the floor when the music changed, but she felt the hand rest on her upper back instead. She intended to shrug him off before his familiar scent caught her nose. Her body moved to join his without active thought and she soon found herself moving across the floor once again. Unlike the others and even more obviously after the looser dance she'd just had, Jaime held her just the slightest bit closer, his hands lingering just the slightest bit longer on the bare stretches of her back and shoulders as they moved together through the steps.
"You seem to be having fun." He murmured in her ear as he held her close during a slow part of the melody.
"Dancing's a bit like fighting, just without all the violence. It's not the worst thing in the world to endure, I suppose."
"Mmm. That's good, but it's not what I meant." He whispered in her ear, bring her mind back to her earlier conversation with Lord Frey. She smiled at the memory, pulling back to look into his curious green eyes.
"We were just clearing the air." She said blithely, lips still curled but expression otherwise innocent.
"Walder Frey isn't the type of man to take loss quietly." He warned her. "You should be careful how you handle him."
"I'm always careful."
"Arya.."
"Jaime."
He shook his head at her but let it go. "Where were you trying to escape to before I caught you?"
"Just to get something to drink." She admitted easily, not in a hurry to leave his hold now that she was in it.
"You have been dancing a surprisingly long time."
"The longer I stay away, the less time my Mother has to question or scold me."
"Very clever. It does appear that she's waiting for you to return." He commented, peering over her shoulder in the direction of her families table. "You're going to have to talk to her eventually, you know."
"I have talked to her. I'm not 'not' talking to her." She defended herself.
"Really?"
"Really."
"What was the last thing you've said to her?"
"That I would see her at the feast." She replied tartly, rolling her eyes.
He shook his head at her again and then pulled her aside just before the song trailed off, so that they were at the edge of the dance floor on the opposite side of the room already when the couples began changing partners. She followed his lead as he ducked away and made his way over to a side table holding several pitchers of wine and extra glasses. He poured them both a generous serving and they stood in the shadowed corner sipping at their full cups.
It had grown quite warm in the hall and her cheeks felt flushed with it. She leaned against the cooler stone of the wall as she glanced around the room and enjoyed the break. Her glass was empty when her senses prickled suddenly and she glanced around again, slower. She found three familiar pairs of eyes watching her and she thought her heart might have skipped at the unbelievable sight.
She pushed off from her lazy stance and began striding around the room with purpose, setting her glass on a nearby ledge without care. Jaime followed, though he wasn't quite sure what had caught her attention so suddenly. They made it clear to the opposite corner and far to near her family for her liking before she finally stopped. "What in the seven hells are you doing here?" She demanded, voice edged in disbelief.
His brown eyes took her in and he looked almost embarrassed- like he wasn't quite sure where he should look with so much of her skin on display. "You once told me I could smith for your brother. Figured 'ere was as good a place as any." He told her, forcing his gaze to stay above her neck, though it kept wandering to her bruised cheekbone with a small frown.
"Then why the fuck are you with them?" She asked next, gesturing with her glass to the two men watching the scene without hiding their amusement. Gendry glanced behind himself to look at the two men from the Brotherhood, Thoros quite obviously drunk as was his norm, while Beric watched them all with his knowing little smile.
"Oh, well, I-" He stuttered, unsure how to respond in the face of her ire.
"It's good to see you again, little lady." Beric spoke up, saving him from having to respond further.
"You sold him like an animal." She stated, tone angry. "Am I the only one who remembers that?"
"No," Beric told her, smile dimming. "But a lot's happened since then. A lot's changed."
She looked back to the man she might once have called her closest friend. He looked at her almost sheepishly and then nodded. "We went beyond the wall together."
Frowning, she replied "Jon told me the Brotherhood went beyond the Wall, but he said they were only two plus the Hound- he didn't mention you being with them."
"Oh, no, I wasn't actually. I was one of the men with your brother when we met up with them at Eastwatch. We had to get over our differences pretty quick like out there. Not much room for squabbles."
She turned from him to the two older men, conflict still tearing her mind. "I thought you hated wolves and lions? They were trying to burn down the country side- and you were trying to save it?"
"We're not the only one's who proclaimed to hate lions only to find ourselves in their company, dangerous girl." Thoros spoke up then, voicing the irony and looking pointedly over her shoulder at the Lannister son standing at her back.
Beric sent him a quelling look and spoke up. "There are no Lions or Wolves anymore, girl. Nothing from the past matters anymore- not alliances, not enemies.. There's only us and them- the living and the dead. If we hold onto our past squabbles instead of moving forward as one, we'll all face the long night on the side we don't want to be on."
She nodded, knowing he was right but wanting to hear it from them. "Jon said fire kills them."
"Aye, seems one of the ways."
"I don't have valerian steel or dragon glass. Can you teach me to light my blade the way you do?"
Beric and Thoros shared a look before turning back to her as one. "You need serve the Red god to learn that trick, girl. It's his power that brings the flame. Do you serve the Red god now?"
She tiled her head at him and allowed her lips to furl in s small smile, eyes calm. "I serve R'hllor, same as I serve the Stranger, same as I serve the Drowned God, the Black Goat God, the Weeping Woman, the Lion of Night, and the nameless Old God alike."
Thoros' eyes sharpened and he looked at her more closely. She nodded to him, watching his expression tighten. "You serve the Many Faced God now, girl?" He murmured quietly, still studying her.
"Valar Dohaeris." She responded just as quietly.
He brought his hand up in a gesture of acknowledgement. "Aye, and Valar Morghulis."
"Valar Morghulis." She lowered her chin in agreement. "Except maybe him." She continued, nodding at Beric.
Thoros smiled at her, though he still looked thoughtful.
It was Beric that spoke again. "I can teach you the way, it'll be up to R'hllor to decide whether or not to answer you call."
"That's all I need." She told him, for if R'hllor was Death and Death answered her call already by granting her the power to change her face, by taking her sight and giving it back with the same poisoned water that would kill anyone else who drank it, why would He not also grant her the power to light her sword and slay such unnatural death?
"Tomorrow, then." He promised, tilting his head in acknowledgement.
"Tomorrow." She agreed with a small thankful smile.
"Rum?" Thoros offered, holding out his flask.
He'd offered it to her before and she'd always turned up her nose at the sheer smell of it. That night, she accepted a swig and managed to keep her nose from wrinkling at the burn of it. It warmed her belly and made her cheeks feel even more flushed. She suddenly wished for the cold of the night air and glanced towards the door, wondering if she'd behaved long enough to make her escape.
"Different than you thought, being back?" Beric questioned with a sympathetic smile when he caught her look.
"Nothing stays the same." She responded.
"No, nothing does." He agreed.
And somehow, a scant few minutes later, she somehow found herself with the three from the Brotherhood, Jaime, Bronn, and somehow the Hound who they had come across on the way, seated at the top one of the abandoned towers, sharing the numerous flasks they had on their persons and passing the remainder of the night with the sound of festive music on the edge of the air whilst the rest of the keep continued to drink, dance, and indulge in merriment without them.
The next morn didn't start as it necessarily should have… that was to say, she was woken by a pair of Northern soldiers finding the group of them passed own in various positions around the remnants of the fire they'd lit in the empty room sometime during the night. The men were apparently part of a much larger group deployed to find them, for Daenerys had returned and a war council had been called for within the hour.
The six hung-over men and one woman forced themselves to their feet at the words and made their way slowly down the winding stairs that seemed much greater in length than they had climbing them. Arya broke away from the others and headed in the direction of her room, finding her Handmaiden already frantically waiting for her. "My Lady!" She exclaimed thankfully when she appeared. "Oh, I was so worried you wouldn't make it in time. Come, you must wash and dress!"
A bath had already been set up, though it seemed to have cooled in the time it took for them to be found. Still, she hoped it might help ease the ache in her head and so stripped herself of the dress she still sore and sunk gratefully into the tepid water, immediately submerging herself completely.
She remained under the water until her lungs began to ache and only then came back up for air. Feeling more awake if nothing else, she moved to scrub herself clean and then stood to dry. Mariela had another borrowed dress waiting for her but she shook her head and moved to her drawers instead, pulling out the fresh pants and black shirt she'd been given. She might have grabbed the top with dark red woven throughout, but the Targaryen color were red as the Lannister's and she didn't want to inadvertently show support for the foreign queen by wearing it to meet her.
Once dressed, Mariela cloth dried her hair and then twisted it into some sort of order before sending her on her way. Her sister didn't arrive to accompany her that morn, and she found her already mid-way through eating when she arrived in the dining hall. "Please pardon my tardiness." She excused herself without giving any justification to the much smaller gather of people than had been present before- the majority of them related to her in some way or other.
Her family had obviously been told that she'd been found, and doubtlessly in what state and of her interesting company. Her eyes went to Jon first, who was watching her with a look that clearly asked 'really?' They moved to her mother next, to see her lips pressed tightly together as she held her silence.
It was Robb that eased the moment by speaking up in turn. "Good morrow, Sister. Please, allow me to introduce her Grace Daenerys Targaryen, Queen of Meereen. Your Grace, my youngest sister, the Lady Arya."
"Your Grace." Arya greeted as was expected, falling into a shallow curtsy.
"Lady Arya, I am so pleased to meet you." The woman replied, words measured and even. "Your homecoming is a joyous occasion indeed- I am sorry to have missed your celebration. Had I know, I would have returned sooner."
"You are kind to say so, Your Grace." Arya told her with a cool smile. As eager as she was to see a dragon in life, she'd heard far too much of the notorious woman and her rule in the East to trust her or the words she spoke- stories of victory through treachery, of mass executions and of her dragons feeing on children and livestock alike.
The silver haired woman glanced over at her in interest, eyes lingering on her wardrobe and visible blade. "Will you be joining us in council after we break our fast?"
She began to nod in the affirmative but her mother spoke before she was able to finish the motion. "No, she will not." The woman stated firmly. Arya's brow raised slightly as she turned her head to meet her stern blue eyes. "A war council is no place for a Lady."
Arya saw the Dragon Queen glance coolly across at the elder woman, clearly as displeased with the statement as she herself was. Though curious what the woman might say, she decided to head her off quite pointedly "And yet I hear you've been attending Robb's council meetings for years." She reminded her.
"My attendance and yours are not the same thing. I am widow to the former Lord of these halls. I bore the King in the North from my own womb. I have more right than any to council him now, without his father here to do so himself."
Her brow raised higher and she turned towards said brother to see which stance he would take in the discussion. He looked between his mother and his little sister, brows pinched. He looked like he might argue against their mother for a moment before he met her matching blue eyes and seemed to falter. "Please, Sister, join us to break your fast. We can discuss the council once we are done eating."
Though he didn't come right out and say it, it was clear he wouldn't stand against their mother in this. Unfortunately for them, she hadn't come all the way back to the North to be left in the dark when it came to the planning. She glanced around to see how the others were taking it. Sansa was looking down at her plate, also clearly unhappy. Jon was looking at her with his own request to behave unhidden on his own features. Prince Trystane was also in attendance and was watching her with a cocked brow, waiting like everyone else to see how she would respond- the Dragon Queen included.
She decided no response was the best response of all and so she simply took her seat and began filling her plate without a word. She ate quickly, not engaging in conversation but taking the time to listen to what the others were discussing amongst themselves in small groups. Finding nothing of interest, her attention was instead drawn to one of the men standing guard at the wall behind the Dragon Queen- obviously a Dothraki from his coloring, dress and weapons of choice.
She'd known the Horse-Lords were in the city, but she hadn't actually come across any of them while their Queen- or rather, their Khaleesi- had been absent. She wondered if she might be able to convince or barter with one of them to teach her to shoot her bow from a crouch on her horses back as they were famed for in the far East. She'd had the chance to see it, once, and she'd wanted greatly to learn the skill ever since.
Once she'd finished her quick meal, she stood and bowed her head in acknowledgement of those present. "Begging pardon, your Graces'. I shall take my leave for now and see you all later. Good morn." She said politely before leaving the table. She could feel the eyes watching her back but no one attempted to stop her. Perhaps they were simply happy she hadn't pressed about the council. If so, they would soon be disappointed.
Introductions done and plan in mind, she veered off back to her room to quickly exchange the black shirt of the black and dark red and then made her way to the Lannister camp. It was already bustling when she arrived and she could see Tywin, Kevan, Lord Tyrell, and Jaime separating themselves from the bulk of men in preparation to make their way within Winterfell and to the council chambers.
She walked up and took a stand between the Father and Son, gathering their attention as she approached. "Good Morn, My Lords." She greeted with a small smile.
Polite salutations were returned by all and then Tywin turned to face her directly. His eyes scanned over the choice of clothing but he didn't say anything about her willingly dressing in the colors of his house. He had honestly wondered if she would even wear that one but had given it to her anyway. He was pleased to see it on her, and the color combination suited her dark features even better than he had imagined they would.
"I had thought we would see you inside." He remarked, question in his voice. "What brings you back here?"
"I should actually like to arrive as a member of your party, if you don't mind having me there with you." It wasn't phrased as a question but he heard it all the same and raised a brow in response.
"Why not with your hosting family?" He questioned directly, well aware of the implications of what she was requesting. "I had thought you would want to attend along with your Brother's Bannermen."
"My lady mother does not believe it to be my place to attend." She answered him honestly, knowing he wouldn't agree if she gave him anything but the truth.
"And so you thought you would join us instead? Trying to start the war again so soon, My Lady?" He asked, but she could hear the acceptance in his tone, even before he actually gave it.
"Of course not." She denied anyway, playing along. "But I returned to the North for a reason and it wasn't to be kept in the dark while the Lords planned without me. If you do not wish me to attend with your company to avoid further tension with my House and yours than know that I understand and accept your decision, but I will still be present in some other way."
"What other way would that be?" He asked, sounding more curious than anything. She didn't respond, face remaining calm and resolved as she watched him to see what he would say. "Oh, very well then- I invite you to join the members of my council as we convene to discuss our war efforts this morn." He invited her formally.
She smiled, accepting with a pleased 'thank you' as she turned to take her place amongst their ranks, falling into line with them as they made their way inside.
To be continued
Notes:
I don't normally give out information that will come to play later on, but I've had a couple of people ask what happened to Cersei, and I will say this: In the show, before Tywin died, he had betrothed his daughter to Loras Tyrell. That plan still would have been in play had he not died and it will come up later on.
Thank you to everyone who has been leaving feedback- and a special thank you to ValKat- I love reading your long reviews and hearing what you think. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me! I hope you enjoyed this chapter- if there's anything in particular you are hoping to see, please let me know and I will try to work it in if it fits with the story line! :)