When Arya woke again, it felt as though days has passed when in fact night hadn't yet even fallen. She felt much refreshed, mind clear and body full of energy. She lay still at first, surprised to find herself resting upon her feather bed for he first time since that dreadful first night back in the keep. She'd kept to her makeshift bedroll beside the fire ever since and so it was odd to wake feeling rested and comfortable in one.
Never one to laze around once roused, she soon pushed herself to sit on the side of the bed, chill hitting her bare arms immediately, flimsy fabric doing little to protect her from the cold and flame burning low in the hearth. Wondering again at the practicality of such clothing, he wasted no time in dressing herself in truth and then found herself standing thoughtfully before her window, mind moving in a hundred different directions in the wake of their unexpected victory.
Despite the ease in which 'Not today' rolled off her tongue and her confidence in her own skill and ability, a part of her had truly expected and had accepted an inevitable meeting with He of Many Faces before dawn crested the morn and well, such an ending would have been much more simple an resolution than what she now found herself facing.
No, she shouldn't have expected a simple end to anything, for since when was her life ever easy? She was much more likely to face pain, heartache, and despair before finding any kind of peace. Rather, she would deal with whatever might come with a brave face and firm resolve as she'd faced everything else over the years. Telling herself such a thing helped, at least up until the point she left her room and traveled far enough to bypass the invisible threshold between the family's private wing and the public space within the keep.
She noticed the eyes first- eyes of the visiting Noblemen, commoners, and servants alike locking onto her and seeming to follow her every move. She felt it first as a prickling between her shoulder blades, but the more aware of it she became, the more aware of her they seemed to become in turn and the more eyes followed her path as she made her way towards the great hall, having noted the position of the sun through her bedroom window before departing and so knowing where she'd likely find those she most truly wanted to see.
The doors were opened for her before she could reach out and she nodded absently to the Northman watching her almost reverently as she passed by. "Princess." He deferred with a deep nod. Her eyes flicked to him briefly but her attention was caught almost immediately by her two elder brothers standing nearest of her family situated around the head table- for everyone was still taking their seats within the large room.
Her feet led her silently closer and it was Jon who noticed her first, angled more towards the door than their elder brother who had his shoulder and half of his back to her, his wife standing nearby with their youngest child held in her slim arms.
The man who shared so many of her own features locked his identical eyes with her own as he stepped quickly around the Northern King and crossed the distance between them. He reached her in a handful of quick steps before wrapping his small and slender sister in his strong arms and lifting her clear from the ground in his enthusiasm at seeing her hale and whole. The mans familiar scent- a combination of his preferred soap, hair oil, and the tang of his blade oil- tickled her nose and she found herself holding him back just as tightly as she allowed herself to give silent thanks that her family had also somehow managed to survive the night.
She was hardly set on her feet before another set of arms grabbed her close and held her tight- though thankfully allowed her feet to remain on the ground- and Robb showed his own happiness at her presence by holding her close for several long seconds.
"Good Sister." She heard a voice greet softly as Robb released her. She turned to see the Lady Talisa watching her with wide eyes. "I am so pleased to see you well. We worried for you all through the night."
"We?" Arya questioned, feeling at a bit of a loss in what to say. She hadn't had much direct interaction with the woman, after all, though she seemed kind enough and yet strong enough in her own right to be well suited to Robb. Truly, she hadn't given the woman much thought at all, though perhaps that wasn't fair of her now that the danger had passed and she was left with the still somewhat flimsy tatters of her family, still disjointed and just a bit broken, but alive and wanting to mend.
"Ah, I stayed with your Mother and your Sister, you see. Normally I'd stay to help the wounded but, well…" She trailed off, resting a slender hand on her still flat looking stomach. "I just couldn't risk it, you see." She laughed lightly, sounding somewhat uncomfortable as her rich brown eyes sought Arya's eldest brother, who still stood near.
"Oh! Of course." Arya responded automatically, though her mild was reeling with the news. Granted, she hadn't been around really any pregnant women since her mother bore Rickon, and she could hardly be expected to remember what that was like, but it almost seemed like there should have been some sign, some tell that would let the world know the woman before her was carrying another person within her stomach, but there had been nothing, nothing until the woman herself announced it. "Congratulations." She added belatedly, remembering that it was the normal response for such news.
"Thank you," Talisa responded with a small, content smile. She seemed lighter, Arya realized. Perhaps she'd been more worried about the battle, about her children and her husband, than she had shown. Beyond them, even, for she was the ruling Queen to Arya's homeland and thus held an inherent responsibility for those under the rule as well. Still, it must have been a relief to know her husband had survived to help bring the newest member of their family into the cold and unforgiving world of the North. Despite everything that had happened, the woman seemed to have a warm glow to her cheeks and an added sparkle to her eye.
She looked over the dark haired woman's' slender shoulder to catch on her remaining family. "I'm glad you are well, Good Sister." Arya told the woman, though the words seemed rather odd on her tongue and she felt at a loss of what else she could say, not really able to relate to her as much as she might try. "Please, if you'll excuse me."
"Of course." Talisa allowed, stepping aside with an easy smile and drifting closer to her husband, who reached out an arm to pull her closer to his side.
Arya tore her eyes away and strode quietly across the stone floor until she reached the table, here her Mother, sister, and two younger brothers already sat with the Noblest of their guests. Sansa spotted her first and rose quickly to her feet and nearly stumbled in her haste to reach her. "Arya!" She gasped as she reached her. It seemed it was to be a day of hugs, for her flame-haired sister drew her close with surprising strength in her lithe arms. "Praise the seven." She announced as she pulled back but remained close enough to tuck a strand of wavy hair behind her sisters' ear- Arya had tugged loose the sleep mussed plait but hadn't bothered to do anymore with it and so it hung in sleep-dried waves around her shoulders.
"I am glad to see you as well, sister." Arya said in exchange, pulling herself gently loose and taking a step back. She didn't remain free for long however, before her Mother took her own turn in expressing her relief and happiness. Arya bore it silently, gritting her teeth at one point as she began to feel twitchy but she was eventually let go in truth and allowed to take her own seat for supper.
She glanced around the rest of the table and those nearest to them as the room began to settle. Lord Tywin curled his lip in what passed as a true smile for the man in mixed company, and Arya nodded to him in turn before her eyes jumped almost dismissively over the man seated beside him. She nodded to Prince Trystane when he caught her eye and shot her a friendly grin. She took in the rest of the room with less notice and prickled her ears to listen in on various conversations nearby more out of habit than anything.
She wasn't truly paying attention to the conversation but noticed with the bulk of the surrounding attention turned to her in unison, as if waiting for her response. She cursed herself for not paying attention, even as she asked aloud, "Beg pardon? I'm afraid I didn't catch that."
Tywin shot her a look of rebuke she was already quite familiar with for her lack of focus, but she paid him little mind just then. She may have been pleased he too had survived, but she hadn't forgotten that that he was to blame for the current state of affairs between Jaime and herself… at least to some extent, even if things had evolved quite a bit since he had sparked everything to flame.
Robb cleared his throat lightly. "We wondered if you would be accompanying the Lannister army back to Kings Landing, or if you would be staying in Winterfell for a time?" He asked.
Her eyes darted from her brother to the old Lion seated nearby, and then further to the glacial green orbs she'd been avoiding so successfully until then. "I suppose I haven't really thought about it." She said, not quite truthfully for she had thought about it quite often in her prior daydream of what might happen should they succeed. "Perhaps I'll make my own way, take time to accomplish a few things I desire." She mussed.
She glanced up to see what seemed to be a general consensus of disagreement with her idea, amazingly enough coming from both parties in unison. "To be honest," She continued slyly. "I'm a bit surprised you don't have it all figured out for me already. You seem so keen to do so, after all- with our without my presence."
"Yes, well, I don't suppose many of us were certain we'd make it to this point." Robb told her, tone chiding her bold tongue- more she suspected due to their company than her comment itself. "Now that we have, we have quite a bit of planning left to do."
She raised the glass of wine that had been set beside her plate- darker in color than the watered down swill they'd been handing out- and tipped it towards her eldest brother. "To surviving the night." She told him, tone both apologetic and yet still edged in steel.
His lip twitched in a reluctant grin, but he returned the gesture none the less. "To surviving the night." He repeated, only for the room to pick up the toast and repeat it in near unison. "And the coming future."
All throughout the rest of the meal, Arya found herself silently observing those gathered around the close pressed tables and the faces filling the room. She kept her ears open and alert, her eyes sharp and her mind clear- despite the vast improvement in the drink and the ease in which it went down. She soon found the plates cleared away and an atmosphere of celebration and lightness began to creep into the air.
A small gathering of musicians in the corner began to play and a bard began to sing a jolly melody, dancers soon after springing to life in a clear section of stone floor and moving to the quick rhythm. Even her family seemed swept away in the good spirit and they all became enthralled in their smaller units and she was able to more or less fade into the background and slip from the table.
She had caught sight of a face in particular she still needed to reckon with. She moved through the crowd like a shade and soon 'found' herself colliding with a sinewy and boney frame topped with scraggily, unkept grey hair and a stubble coated face. "Beg pardon, My Lord." She simpered with a bowed head, not allowing him time to respond before she'd moved out of his reach and disappeared back into the crowd.
She slipped the tiny vial back into its proper stop upon her person without faulter and continued on until she caught sight of a familiar trio, clearly already in their cups and dressed in Essosi leathers despite the bitter chill still on the air.
"Greetings." She stated, announcing her presence with a seemingly easy smile, Dothraki rolling off her tongue just the slightest bit easier for the recent practice.
"Aye, greeting woman." Razhako responded easily, echoed by his two brothers.
"I am pleased at your survival. I know the losses to your people were great."
"Many losses for all people."
"Aye." She echoed his early sound.
"Join us?" Jazhako offered, speaking time to her directly for the first.
"Thank you." She told him, taking an open seat at their table as her eyes swept over the slips of paper spread across its surface. "Deal me in next hand?" She questioned, familiar with the game.
Arya kept careful track of time as the eve progressed with no signs of slowing in its festivities. As the time struck that she'd mentally been waiting for crept closer, the center of her focus took leave of the room, face pallid. She waited to avoid linking her own movements with his but eventually pressed herself up from the table and excused herself in an exaggerated stumble to make it seem as if she were further in her cups than she truly was. She moved as if she simply wished to get a breath of fresh air and soon passed into the barren corridors leading to the nearest courtyard.
So caught up in her mission, she nearly missed seeing the hand reach out from an alcove until just before it grabbed her. The only reason she didn't draw a blade was due to the familiar family ring he wore on his finger, decreeing him a member of the Lannister family without him ever need introduce himself.
She allowed him to catch her arm and tug her into the small space with him, it being a bit crowded feeling with both of them tucked within and no room to so much as take a step in three directions. "What-?" Her question was interrupted by the press of lips before she could finish asking it but that action in and of itself was essentially the answer to her question anyway and so she allowed her mind to quiet into a moment of enjoyment and tentative reciprocation considering the way their last interaction had ended.
His lips were chapped and bitten, she could feel, and she could remember him telling her of the terrible habit his father had attempted to force him to break in his youth with varying success depending on the circumstance. One point of contact became two and then three as she felt first his left hand reach up to cup her jawline and then his right move to rest comfortably on her waist.
After he lay his hands on her, his passion seemed to skyrocket and he attempted to turn them to press her back into the wall for better leverage, but it was at that point that she pulled back and then took a physical step to give herself some distance to clear her head. "What are we doing here, Jaime?" She questioned lowly, resisting the urge to reach up to rub at her tingling lips or do anything else that would give her own state of desire away.
The blond blinked down at her, almost seeming confused at her sudden distance. "Arya…" She watched him as he paused and seemed to try and gather his thoughts, without much success at all, for he did not attempt to speak again before she began to lose her patience. She shook her head, annoyed at his seeming inability to answer her and took another step away from him, even as he reached out to try and regain the connection she was rejecting, no matter how much her body might still ache for his own.
Afterall, sex hadn't… It hadn't been quite what she had expected or hoped for, she supposed. Sure, it was raw and passionate, and it had felt good once she got past the initial pain and discomfort… But, she'd had to open herself up in a way she'd never done before to allow such contact- and not just on a physical level. It took getting into a certain mentality for someone like her to give over control of anything, really, but especially her body.
No… The sex had been pleasurable and enjoyable to some extent, but it wasn't something she needed on a primal level- she could just as well never share such an exchange again and be just fine without it. And considering his overall refusal of her in any kind of formalized context, well… Lets say she wasn't feeling a burning need to put herself though it again, however much her body might tingle for his renewed touch.
Mentally shaking her head, Arya drew herself forcefully back together. She almost said, 'forgive me,' but realized the words didn't quite fit her state of mind before she said them aloud. "Excuse me," She said instead. "I have something rather pressing to attend to." She ended. He stuttered slightly at her rejection but she had pulled back completely from the alcove before he could protest coherently.
While Arya would never admit aloud to fleeing the scene, she would admit at least silently to herself that her feet had moved to take her from the rather uncomfortable situation with a flightiness not normally seen from her. It was her turn to assume he wouldn't chase after her, and for the second time one of them was proven correct in challenging the others' pride and stubbornness, for she was able to escape the hallway without any further hinderance.
She resumed her initial route and soon came to a heavy exterior door- the nearest from the great hall, as a matter of fact, which was important to note for someone how may have been feeling rather overheated for seemingly no reason beyond imbibing too much drink.
When she reached her destination, she was pleased to see the guards that had become a common fixture outside had been withdrawn into the celebration- it wasn't as if they had any other enemies to expect, after all- and it made her job much simpler in tracking the shuffling boot prints that moved straight across the courtyard and to the open field beyond the gate.
She strolled along easily enough, knowing her poison of choice was one of the slower acting ones in her arsenal, so she had no worry that she would be too late in finding him. She may have- had she allowed herself to be distracted longer, but it was a non-issue at that point. Her prey seemed to have stumbled along further than she had expected, for it was well beyond the gates and in the shadows that she found him.
He was lying against a snowbank, clutching a hand to his chest and she thought that his advanced age may have speed things up beyond her expectation. No matter though, she'd still found him in time. She approached languish, his beady eyes locking on her form as she moved closer, until she eventually crouched down beside him, balancing on the balls of her feet in the snow tracks he himself had upturned so her own presence beside him would be invisible to any but perhaps the most trained eye.
"You." He snarled at her from pinched lips as a curled claw-like hand attempted to swipe at her, but she rested just out of his arm span. She continued to watch him curiously as his breathing became shallower and more pained and his eyes never left hers for longer than it took him to blink. "Why are you here, girl. What do you want?" He demanded, bubbles forming in his spittle.
"Oh, don't mind me." She replied pleasantly with a tilt of her head. "I don't want much- nothing that you can give me, anyhow. Or rather, nothing that you can stop me receiving. See, I don't want anything more than I want to watch you die, and for you to know that I am the one responsible for taking your life, as you attempted to take my own."
"I never tried to take your life." He spat angrily.
"Not in this manner, you're right. No, what you attempted to do to me was much worse- you attempted to own me, to own my body, to take me ad treat me and use me as little more than a well blooded brood mare to give to one of your despicable spawn. Let me tell you something, Lord Frey. You, nor any other man in this land, will ever "own" me. You will never own my body. Hells, you personally will never see my body again after tonight- nor anyone else's. You made a grievous mistake, Lord Frey, one of which you will not survive."
It appeared he wanted to answer, but simply couldn't. His curled hand returned to its initial spot upon his chest, clutching at his heart as it continued to pump blood much to rapidly to be normal, the beat of it echoing in his ears in a constant 'whoosh-whoosh, whoosh-whoosh."
Arya watched curiously as his pain in his eyes increased rapidly until it reached its peak and then eventually became nothing- nothing but the blank gleam of death gazing out silently into the night. Her lips curled, satisfied at finally claiming her retribution over the man who'd attempted to play her like a Cyvasse piece for naught but his own merit.
She stood straight, uncaring to linger now that the deed was done, feet still situated unconsciously within his own track as she began to make her way back, leaving his body for someone else to discover… At least, if they found him before the wolves did. She found she didn't truly care either way.
Tbc
Notes:
We broke 1,000 Kudos! Thank you so much to everyone who is ready and reacting to this work- I greatly appreciate the feedback! I do have a question, if you have a preference:
I've been trying to push these chapters to be 4,000-5,000 words. However, it's taking me long enough to write that I can post a week or two faster if I post at the 3,000 word range.
Would you rather see smaller, more frequent chapters?
Or slightly longer chapters that may be a bit more spaced out?
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter- I can't wait to hear what you thought! Thanks for reading! :)