Three days passed by in a similar manner. Arya took the morning and evening meal with her family and their honored guests whilst she continued to take her midday meal with the men digging the trenches beside her.
Jaime was kept back by his father on the third day and so she slipped out through the shadows on her own that morning. She took her place in the line that had progressed quite far in such a short amount of time. She didn't pay attention to who took the place to her right that Jaime had occupied up until then. She didn't notice him, if fact, until some hours later when she twisted her body to help toss the loosened, though still frozen, soil out of the deepening trench and caught a glimpse of him out the corner of her eye.
It was Jaqen, digging beside her with the same single-minded determination she herself had been using to ignore the burn in her palms where the rough wood had rubbed raw spots, and the tired ache in her arms and back form the repetitive motion. She had quickly come to realize that not even she was used to continuous motion from near sunup to sundown, coming up on three full days without rest except come night.
She didn't let on that she had noticed him. They didn't speak when they broke for lunch, or even once a bell finally rang to signal that it was time to quit for the day. Arya didn't move to pull herself out of the deep score in the land, but rather remained standing until they were fully alone and the voices above had faded into the distance and then disappeared completely. She finally turned to face him to find him already studying her with an expressionless face.
"A girl still shows dedication." He stated calmly and then paused. She knew he didn't require or want a response and so she kept her silence until he continued. "It is good to know time has not softened your will nor your stubbornness." He continued in more of a mummer, not using his normal term of address and catching her attention more fully than anything else could have. "You will need to hold those close should you choose to accept a Man's offer."
"What sort of an offer?" She questioned quietly when he did not continue. She felt blood drip down her palm from one of the deeper sores and he curled her palm to keep it from dripping onto the ground below- it was an old habit, one taught to her by the man standing before her, the habit to never leave a sign that you had been there behind if you could easily prevent it.
"A test. To show a man whether or not a girl still truly desires to serve the Many-Faced God." He told her, reverting to his normal way of speaking. Still, she knew such a shift did not erase the seriousness of the conversation he'd already displayed, and so did not waver in her focus of him.
Even so, she felt her heart jump beneath her breast and had to maintain control of her expression. "What sort of test?" She questioned again, even quieter.
"A name has been given. The brother who sought this name before perished in the Red Waste."
Essos, she thought to herself as her heart sank right back down. "I cannot travel to the Red Waste right now. I can't leave Winterfell, not before this battle is won." She told him honestly, a little surprised herself at the amount of disappointment she felt.
"This person is no longer in the Red Waste- nor in Essos as a whole." He told her, seeming to read the thoughts straight from her mind. "They are much nearer than a girl can imagine. Will a girl accept this test? Or shall a man gift this name to the Many-Faced God with his own hands?"
"A girl accepts. Whose name has been given?" She told him with no further, visible, hesitation.
The corner of his lip pulled into a familiar curl and she could tell that he was pleased. "Daenerys Targaryen." He told calmly as he observed her face for a show of emotions. Her brows furrowed slightly, for a Queen surrounded by armies of men was more than anything she could have imagined. Her mind immediately began to race with plans and ideas as she thought it through. Though not a name she had expected to hear, it made sense that the Faceless Men would have been called in for such a person.
Her thoughts were interrupted suddenly when he unexpectedly continued. "The price for her name ways paid more than four years ago by a man named Petyr Baelish at the behest of King Robert Baratheon. The price was for herself and her child both, but her child perished at the hands of a witch her people had taken as a slave- the same witch who was responsible for taking the life of her husband."
Arya looked at him for a long moment before she responded. "Why are you telling me this? I've never been given any information beyond the name itself before."
"A Man wants a Girl to take this test knowing all of the facts, so that there may be not lingering questions as to whether or not the test was carried out due to dedication to our ways or ignorance that will lead to regret."
"I did not leave because I regret." She told him, catching the deeper meaning behind his words. "I left because I had to. I left because I could no longer allow myself to be selfish and take the path I desired over the obligations left over from my past."
He nodded his head in acknowledgement but did not address her words just then. "Does a girl have any questions? If so, let them be answered now."
Arya resisted the urge to bite her lip and considered what questions she truly had. In the beginning, she'd had many. She had fewer as time passed- partially due to finding the answers on her own and partially due to the knowledge and acceptance that not all answers where hers to know. "King Robert is dead." She spoke finally. "If the Faceless Man hunting her is dead already, as is the man who named her to begin with, there lies two lives in exchange for her own. Why does that not settle the debt?
"It is not to us to know when a debt is settled. A name was given, a price was paid, and we will continue to do our jobs until the one named meets Death."
Her head bowed slightly in a nod of acceptance. "The Queen is important to the war efforts here. We won't be able to win without her soldiers and her dragons." She said next, no further questions coming to her tongue save for her timeline.
"Death in certain, the time is not." He stated, repeating the words he had spoken to her so long ago in Harrenahal.
Though he didn't explicitly say it, the permission to wait until after the battle to claim her name was clear to her in the words spoken. Her chest lightened but she still felt at a loose end. "What would you have me do in the meantime?"
"A girl who was so determined to remain Arya Stark should be Arya Stark, now that she has the opportunity."
"A girl has spent so much time trying not to be, she's not sure she remembers how." She confided in him quietly.
He studied her for another long moment before he replied. "Arya Stark is not someone a girl needs to remember how to be. People change, experiences shape us, we naturally evolve over the years. There is nothing wrong in that. A girl does not need become Arya, Arya is a girl, however different of a girl she might have become over the years."
"That's not what you said at the House."
"A girl had a different goal, then." He told her as if it were that simple. "And now things have changed."
"Will you stay in Winterfell?" She asked after a thoughtful moment of quiet. "Until a name is given? Even if it takes months?"
"That is not certain. A man is here now- that too might change. Only time can tell."
"Will I see you here again?"
The corner of his mouth tugged up again. "Well now, that is up to a girl- has she still the skill to see a man when he does not wish to be seen?" It was a challenge she knew, mayhap another test entirely. He continued before she could formulate a response. "A girl is missed. She should return to her family."
Arya glanced in the direction she knew the keep to be, though she couldn't see it over the deep trench walls. She nodded in agreement, knowing it was likely true. She turned away from him and moved closer to the wall. She jumped slightly so she could grab the top and levered herself over the edge. It was only once she was standing on the flat edge that she glanced back down. "Thank you, Jaqen." She uttered softly before turning and beginning to trek back to the gates, surrounded by darkness and silence.
It was full dark when she finally arrived back in the keep and, though she knew she still had time to join her family and their guests for part of the evening meal, she was filthy and smelt of a disgusting combination of mud and stale, frozen sweat. Thus, instead of seeking food, she headed directly to her room to find the hand maiden waiting outside her door as expected. She was pleased to see the woman for a change and sent her immediately off to fetch hot water for a bath.
She entered her room and wandered over to the window while she waited, thinking back over what had just happened. Her mind moved to the insurmountable task before them- a task of which the woman named could mean victory or defeat and could determine whether or not her family survived the coming battle.
It seemed somewhat twisted to be plotting the death of the woman so near to her own age in the wake of such an unbelievable victory, but the Many-Faced God had already been waiting years. She knew the House would want to make good on the transaction as soon as possible and that they wouldn't tolerate her delaying any further than was absolutely required.
Not that she necessarily wanted to delay such a thing anyway. The woman who held such delicate fragility in her features was anything but gentle in her own right. No, in truth she was cold and bloodthirsty, as she'd already proven despite her young age. Arya had been hearing whispers about the Targaryen madness returned to the world once more for quite some time now.
She wondered if her family knew of some of the things this woman had done in her conquest- of the cobblestoned streets stained red in her wake, of the innocents slain indiscriminately along with the guilty- for if they didn't wear a collar themselves, they were just as guilty as the slavers in the Dragon Queens mind- of the children she'd allowed her dragons to feed on along with the goats, of the men she'd burned without mercy… She wondered if her brother knew, as seemingly smitten as Jon was with the blood thirsty woman.
She wondered if he would be upset once she was dead. Oh, she wasn't worried that he would be upset with her, for she was far too good at what she did to be found out unless she wanted to be. No, she wondered how upset he would be with her death in general. She wondered if she would feel guilty when the time came for causing him that pain, but she did not yet know the answer.
Instead, she turned her mind back to the parts that made sense to her. She would have to use the utmost caution to be successful in this task. She would have to be discreet and leave no evidence behind that could possibly lead back to her. It couldn't be bold or outright, she would have to have a plan and several backups for good measure.
Her best bet would be to use a natural remedy to bring about the Queens death in a way that would appear as if she had caught some illness, or have a wound fester if she was lucky enough for the woman to become injured at some point in the future. She would have to rebuild her supplies, for she hadn't brought much in the way of poisons or tonics from the house and so she would have to start from the beginning. It would be easier now that she had her pack to use.
She heard the maids finish and depart- she had made in clear in the beginning that she did not require assistance to bathe- and so she moved to latch the door locked so no one could intrude and then stripped on her way back to the sizeable tub. Her mind continued to twist and churn as she stepped into the hot water and then lowered herself without allowing time to adjust to the temperature, sinking down and down until she was fully submerged and the sounds of the keep became muffled beneath the waters weight.
The next morning, she rose early and made her way to the armory to find a bow to practice with. It had been some time since she'd been able to practice and she wanted to make sure her skill remained honed before attempting one of the things on her list. She spent a good hour practicing with the targets before she was satisfied enough to head inside to break her fast.
Her cheeks were rosy from the cold when she arrived and it was clear that she was coming inside and not from her room. She could see the disapproval on her mother's face, but what for she wasn't sure this time. "Good morrow." She greeted the room politely as she took her seat and began filling her plate from the meager but hearty offerings laid out before them.
"We missed seeing you yesterday." Sansa spoke after her greeting was returned.
"You saw me for breakfast yesterday." Arya reminded her sister.
"Yes, but not all day or for supper."
"I was not hungry." She replied easily. "I retired early."
Her mother cleared her throat and they cut their conversation in a manner very similar to when they were children. The rest of the meal passed by with sometime tense conversation to be had on occasion. When the meal was over, Catelyn asked for her presence before she could escape the room. Robb and Sansa remained as well, though everyone else took their leave without comment.
"Would you care to tell us where you have been spending your days?" Catelyn asked once they were alone.
She thought briefly of not answering truthfully but decided it wasn't worth the effort. "I have spent my days in the trenches, preparing for the battle." She told them instead.
They seemed surprised by her easy response but her mother still frowned. "The trenches are no place for a Lady. There are plenty of men to do the digging without you having to strain yourself as well."
"It was not a strain. I wanted to do my part." She responded calmly.
"Alone?" Sansa asked from beside their mother, tone pointed.
"I'm hardly alone when surrounded by our men."
"Not just our men."
"Could we stop with the pretense and talk about what you have actually brought me here for?" Arya asked, starting to become annoyed.
"The same could be said to you." Sansa returned. "You know of whom I speak."
Arya smiled coldly at her elder sister. "Jaime was not with me yesterday, he remained in the Lannister camps."
"And before that?"
"We've spent much time together. We traveled the Kingsroad together, if you've forgotten."
"It's not proper for you to spend time alone with a man.. Especially one of his.. repute."
"We haven't been alone." Arya defended, which was only a small lie. "You need not worry for my virtue."
Catelyn cleared her throat, drawing all their attention. "Yes, your virtue. I trust it is still intact?" The woman asked, only sounding slightly uncomfortable.
Arya froze deeper from her already still stance. "The state of my virtue is hardly your concern, Mother. Again, I am a woman grown."
"You are a betrothed woman, and the state of your virtue matters to all involved."
Arya's lips twisted as she fought to contain her scowl. She kept her silence, choosing not to respond rather than say something that would likely offend or upset the woman who was already flushed in the face with her own heightened temper. "Lord Walder has requested you be checked by a Maester to ensure your purity is still intact." Catelyn continued more delicately. "He wishes to proceed with the wedding within the fortnight."
"And when did Lord Walder make this request?" She asked coldly.
"This morn, by raven."
"And if I decline?"
"You do not have an option to decline. He has the right to make such a request under the old rites."
"And if I am not pure?"
Catelyn's face paled and became blotchy at the points the blood still simmered beneath the surface. Her lips pressed tightly together. "Lord Walder has stated an impure bride is not worthy of his better sons. He did not specify just what he meant by that but I don't imagine it to be anything good."
"And yet you would still give me to him?" Arya asked curiously, tilting her head.
"The deal has already been made, Arya, there is nothing we can do."
"No… There's nothing you can do. Do not worry, Mother, I will take care of myself, as I always do." She told the woman and turned to leave despite the voice demanding her back. She had things she wanted to do this day and it did not include some wrinkly old Masters fingers examine her womanhood.
The day ended up being productive, despite its rough beginning. She was able to find several of the herbs and plants she needed to add to her pack and she had them rolled carefully into a pocket so that she could dry and process them once she was back in her room. She'd made her way to the kitchens to gather a couple of components from there as well, and back to the armory for a reserve of oil to use for her tonics.
She visited the Lannister camp and had another match of Cyvasse with Tywin, where she confided in the man that she was to be married within the coming weeks. The Lord already seemed to know, for his face scarcely twitched as he considered his move. He didn't respond until he took his turn and she was considering her own move. "And here I thought you already took care of that."
"How did you hear that?" She asked, peering up at him to see an unimpressed expression staring back at her. "Right.. I will take care of it. I won't let him win."
"And what if you had another option?" He asked her seriously.
"What do you mean?" She questioned back as she moved her own piece.
"An option that did not require you going to war with the old Frey. You've already laid the groundwork- shown how difficult and unfitting you are. It's likely only his stubbornness and desire to have a Stark woman in his house that continues to drive him."
"What sort of option would force him away without a fight?"
"As with all men, Money tends to be very compelling."
"Why would we give him money?" She asked, confused.
"I could, potentially, buy out his contract."
"I still don't understand." Though she thought she was beginning to.
He gave her a look but explained anyway. "I could pay off the debt your family has to his in exchange for control over your marriage contract."
"Why would you want control over my marriage contract?" She asked, even quieter, equal parts eager and dreading to hear what he might say in response.
"I want you as my good-daughter." He told her bluntly, as was his way. "You would marry Jaime, give him an heir of his own and one day help him rule over Casterly Rock. You would remain loyal to him, guide him in his stubbornness, and watch out for the wellbeing of the Lannister name once I am unable to do so myself."
She drew in a sharp breath- it was one thing to suspect such a plan, but quite another to hear it spelled out so definitely. "Jaime is in the Kingsguard, he cannot marry." She told him weakly.
"That can be corrected, should you do your part in convincing him to give it up. It is only his stubbornness that keeps him there."
"What makes you think I can convince him of anything?"
He sent her a droll look. "You think me so ignorant that I don't know what you and my son have been getting up to when you're left alone?"
She felt herself flush and it was an odd sensation with how in control she normally was over her responses. "And what if I can't marry?"
"And why can't you?" he asked, clearly humoring her, though she knew such goodwill was limited at best.
"I.. I've always sworn I wouldn't subject myself to such nonsense."
He considered her thoughtfully, features still stern but less so than she might have expected. "You're going to marry eventually, whether you will it or not." He told her simply as though it were an indisputable fact. "Such are the times we live in. Marriage itself, however, need not be the terrible fate you seem convinced it is. You parents had a good marriage, I hear. It is surprising that you are so resistant to the idea."
She dropped her eyes back to the gameboard, though Tywin made no move to take his turn. "I know that my parents learned to love each other with time." She told him. "That's not my problem… I've been told that I would be married one day since I was a little girl- that it was my place to bare some lords' children and run his household somewhere far from my home. I've never wanted that. I've fought the idea for a long time."
"Which part?" He questioned her, drawing her gaze back to his own sharp blue eyes. "That you would leave your home? You've already done that- at your own behest and at theirs." He spoke, referencing when she'd been so close and yet turned away before. "That you could bring yourself to care for a man? Take him to your bed? You've been close to doing that already as well." He told her; tone slightly more scolding than before.
"Mayhap I simply don't want to bare any children. Why would I want to carry a babe for nearly a year and then tear my body apart bringing it into the world?" She questioned bluntly in turn. She felt bad when she saw him flinch slightly, though she wasn't sure what had caused it.
"You are young yet." He told her; tone unchanged despite what his face had given away just a moment before. "But marriage is not all you think that it is. It's not just 'running some lords' household' or baring his children. It is a partnership, it is having another person at your side through times of challenge and joy both. Tell me, has my son ever spoken to you of his mother?"
Arya shook her head, not breaking her own silence in a desire to hear what he had to say. No one had every spoken with her so frankly about marriage before and it was intriguing to gain another prospective. "Joanna was… so much more than simply the mother of my children. She was my confident, my council, the counterbalance to my stubbornness and temper. She was the true strength of my family … As you will one day be of yours. You remind me a bit of her, you know. She was intelligent too, and stubborn to a fault in her own way."
"What happened to her?"
His jaw clenched and unclenched before he answered. "She died in the birthing bed with Tyrion."
It was on the tip of her tongue to point out further evidence as to why she shouldn't allow herself to become with child, but she couldn't bring herself to be so needlessly cruel when he'd shared something so personal with her. She knew he wouldn't appreciate pointless platitudes and so she did not offer any. He continued before the silence could linger, changing the subject back to the main point of their conversation. "Agree to marry my son and you have my word that your future won't be the tragedy you think it will be. You will have more power as a member of my house than you can fathom."
Notes:
Is anyone still reading this? I am so sorry for the looking delay! A few of you may remember that I was having computer issues some time ago. I'm sorry to say my laptop finally had the Blue Screen of Death. I was able to write this chapter using my work computer but cannot guarantee when the next update will come. I'm at hoping to have another it but Christmas though and will do my very best to make that happen.
I hope you are all having a wonderful holiday season this far and hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for reading!