Last time:

His icy gaze locked upon her, voice like an ice whip and twice as unforgiving. "You may call yourself a Queen, Lady Targaryen, but here you are nothing more than a dead barbarian's wife, and a dead kings' daughter. Your father lost his crown by rite of conquest- you may not like such facts, but facts they remain."

"And who are you to speak to me in such a manner?"

"You know who I am, but I shall remind you regardless, foreigner. I am Lord Tywin Lannister, chosen Hand to the Rightful King of Westeros, Tommen Baratheon, and to his Lady Wife- the Queen Margaery Baratheon, daughter to his Lord Mace Tyrell, who is with us here tonight and whom I'm sure does not appreciate your attempts to overthrow his daughter, as I do not appreciate your attempts to overthrow. My. grandson."

She smiled- it was a slow smile, one that seemed practiced. "Attempts? Tell me Lord Tywin, if I were to go to Kings Landing, with my armies and my dragons, who do you think would stand rule when the daylight fades? Your grandson and his little wife, or myself and my dragons?"

Now:

"That's quite the bold threat to make." Tywin told her coldly. "Considering you are quite well outnumbered just now, and quite unable to make it back to your beasts to be able to command them at all." The Lannister bannermen and those loyal to the crown shifted around the room, hands moving unconsciously to their weapons as they waited to see how such a challenge would play out.

"Your men may outnumber by own, but their skill and ferocity are unmatched in battle. I bid you to try." She told him, unphased, and with a challenging smirk even as her men stepped closer and drew their weapons. The mood throughout the room suddenly changed as everyone previously partaking in drunken enjoyment suddenly became focused and weary. The wound of steal being drawn echoed throughout the room, though no one made to move just yet.

"Please, Your Grace, My Lord, I implore you. I understand that many questions remain unanswered, but allow this night, if no others, to be one of celebration and victory for our people." Robb stated evenly, but with a commanding air he'd acquired since being named King of the North, as he stood to his own feet and took a step towards the commotion.

"Are you asking me to allow such a threat to pass unchallenged?" Daenerys questioned dangerously.

"I ask you to recognize that emotions are high just now. We were allies at dawn, was that allegiance so meaningless and fleeting that it's gone now that the enemy is defeated?" Robb argued evenly. "Before the blood-moon can even rise?"

"It seems there is a new enemy."

"So it may seem." Tywin agreed before Robb could respond. "A foreign enemy bore from a Mad Kings seed, whose vicious and bloody reign finally put to rest. Tell me, Lady Targaryen, do you truly with to usurp nearly two decades of peace for your own selfish desires?"

"I wish only to claim what is mine by rite."

"By Rite?" Tywin questioned mockingly. "What rite is that? Again, I direct your attention to the Rite of Conquest, in which your Father forfeited any right to the throne for himself or his descendants when he died by my sons hand, and forfeit the kinship to Robert Baratheon. I do understand that you have been raised abroad, but truly such an excuse is rather unacceptable for someone demanding war over such a basically flawed argument. Mayhap you should gain yourself a tutor in the ways of Westeros before proclaiming yourself Queen of this land."

"My Lord!" Robb exclaimed, annoyed. "I will not ask again. This argument is done for this night." Arya was almost impressed by how commanding he was able to make himself sound just then- he could truly portray a kingly baring when his hackles were risen.

"Of course, Your Grace." Tywin agreed smoothly. "I do apologize. Perhaps I will excuse myself for the night." He continued blasély, cool eyes dismissive and unworried despite the continued tension.

"Then I bid you a good eve, Lord Tywin." Robb replied, his own tone still taunt with agitation.

The Old Lion looked indifferently away and his glacial eyes locked upon Arya's own form, still frozen on the outskirts and in clear view. She hadn't fully hashed out her plan for the woman's death, but the conversation made it clear she would have to be dealt with sooner than later, else the Mad Queen might do more damage to their world than could be mitigated. Tywin's head tilted just slightly and she knew he wished for her presence. She hadn't been alone with the man since everything had come to a head, but she knew she could only avoid such a ting for so long.

Robb followed his gaze to her but didn't linger before turning his attention away, spine straight and clearly still tense. Tywin stood with a few others and the small group made their way to the doors to return to their camp. Arya waited several minutes while those remaining slowly began to relax and hushed conversations began again, before she slipped away herself and allowed her feet to carry her to the unspoken destination without her needing pay much attention to where she was going.

She approached the Lannister camps a few minutes later, and it was lit with its own celebrations for those who hadn't attended the main festivities within the keep. Tywin was alone when she reached his tent, though two full glasses of wine stood waiting beside the fresh Cyvasse board. The man himself stood with his back to the entry, attention focused on a letter lying atop his portable table.

She paused within the door wait, uncertain if she wanted to approach further, though it was apparent he expected her to do so.

"Come woman, I don't have all night." Tywin told her, and it was the odd change from 'Girl' to 'Woman' that spurned her forward. "You are still angry with me." He told her as she took her seat, not bothering to beat around the bush. She didn't respond, but rather took the first turn as he gestured her to do so. "My son is stubborn." He told her, observantly. "And short sighted, much as it pains me to admit. He was going to disagree with this arrangement as soon as he knew I was for it- no matter what. Best to get it over with in the beginning and then allow you to bring him back to heel once he's worked through his anger. You are intelligent, but you haven't known him nearly as long nor as well as I. Trust I know what I am doing."

"Bring him to heel?" Arya asked evenly, focusing on the phrase and a bit offended on his behalf. "It's truly no wonder he pushes so much in the opposite direction if that is your opinion of him and how he should be treated."

"Beg pardon?"

"Jaime isn't a child who needs brought to heel. He's a man long since grown and yet still answering to his fathers will. It's no wonder he fights against such things- I understand now why he renewed his vows not once but twice when the kingship passed and he could have chosen to return home. It might not have been a rich or glamorous life, but it allowed him to be free of your manipulations. I can, in a way, relate."

Tywin studied her silently for several long moments, and then moments more passed as his gaze dropped to the board and he took his turn. "Had I not pushed my son to succeed, he likely would have been dead decades ago." Tywin told her, tone full of rebuke and yet not overly harsh. "Jaime is bull-headed. He was taxing as a child, indolent and spoilt. He's always been too willful and too bold, too willing to make absurd decisions. He requires a firm hand."

"Have you ever stopped to think that he might respond better if you didn't attempt to force his hand? If you allowed him to learn from his own experiences and make his own choices in life?" Arya mussed as she moved a piece. Tywin glanced across at her with a dismissive brow raised and simply decided not to answer.

Arya grew thoughtful as the game progressed in silence and decided to continue on her musings. "I don't mean to say that he is right or wrong for abandoning his birth right and obligation as the Lannister heir. I understand the necessity of such things in your mind, but have you ever wondered if things might have been vastly different today if you had made difference choices in the past? Had things been different, he could have remained at home after the Mad Kings death rather than returning to swear to King Robert. He could have accepted his duties as your heir and married and born you a grandson already."

"What good do you think it does to muse on events that never came to pass?" He asked her, rather than commenting on her words.

"What good does it do you?" Arya asked, knowing then that he'd had those same throughs- or thoughts similar enough- of his own. Probably more than one thought, and probably more than once.

"Tell me, Lady Arya." Tywin stated, tone changed slightly and sounding unconcerned with her answer as he changed the subject almost completely. "If my son does choose to continue in his stubbornness, who would you choose to marry? If you could choose anyone?"

Arya looked across at him in slight shock, only to find him already looking back and studying her expressions. Their eyes locked and remained so as she considered her answer, remembering her brother so recently telling her of the men approaching for her hand. She wondered how many had truly approached Lord Tywin, though couldn't imagine many would care, let alone have the gall to address the infamous Southern lord.

"I wouldn't marry anyone." She told him honestly.

"No one?"

"No one. I've never wanted to marry, never wanted to bind myself to a man, settle down somewhere and care for his household."

"Never wanted children?" He asked when she didn't explicitly say so.

She hesitated, but answered a moment later after choosing to ignore the little nagging feeling she'd had since her and Jon had spoken about his own opinion on the subject: "No, ever wanted children. I've never desired a family beyond what I already have."

"Having a child is.. The single most prideful moment you will ever feel, and also the most exhausting a time as you will ever experience in your life. It is both terrifying and exhilarating, knowing you've created an entirely new life, brought an entirely new being into existence, to be molded and shaped by you and your spouse. To see yourself in them, both your strengths and your flaws alike." He ended sardonically.

"I do not wish to be responsible for molding a child." She told him solemnly. "I'm not.. My childhood wasn't.. It was happy, sure, for a time, and I have some vaguely pleasant memories of those years, but I was one and ten when I left Winterfell, and I suppose things were okay for a time when we first arrived in Kings Landing. But.. I don't have any frame of reference for the more recent years, and I find I don't have very good memories of the earlier ones, not after every that's happened since then. I wouldn't.. I wouldn't be a good mother. I'm too flawed, I'm not.. Soft, or comforting, as mothers are. I deal in death, not in life. I don't think it would be fair to subject a child to such a mother."

"There are all types of mothers in the world, and all types of children. Beyond that, raising a child is more the responsibility than just the mother." Tywin told her steadily. "It also belongs to the father, to the aunts and uncles, to the grandparents, and anyone else you deemed. It would not solely rest upon your shoulders."

"I never really knew my grandparents." Arya argued. "And I rarely saw my Uncle Benjen. It was only ever my parents and my siblings in the family hall."

"No, I suppose not. The Senior Starks have been long gone, Riverrun is quite far from Winterfell, and Rangers of the Nights Watch didn't get much free time to visit 'family.'" He paused to take a sip and study her as she studied the board, making an effort to keep her face blank. "It's not like that in Lannisport. Generations of family live together or near together. Children grow up knowing their relatives, grow up being a part of their lives and cousins oft grow up to be as close as siblings. Tell me, Lady Arya, have you ever even met your cousin, the Lord Robin?"

Arya almost felt as though she should take offence, but couldn't find a firm point to argue. Her family hadn't been the same since they left for the capital- since before that even, when Bran fell and weeks passed without them knowing if he would wake. She'd been so very young then, young and naive. As Hand, her father had been exceptionally busy and she saw the Septa and Sansa far more than she saw her father. No, her most vivid memories of her childhood had been fighting- first with the Butchers Boy before Joffrey had him cut down, and later with her Dancing Master, before everything went to hell.

"No, we've never met." She admitted. "I'm not sure I truly remember how to be part of a family. It's been a long time."

"You've people around you who'll help you to remember." He told her as he made a move that secured his victory in record time, giving proof of her distraction despite her best efforts. "If you'd allow them to."

Another few minutes passed in silence until Arya spoke again. "What truly will happen to me if Jaime doesn't accept your plan and leave the Kings Guard?" She asked directly, wanting- needing to know if she should start making contingency plans again.

"If he refuses to give up his vows, I will find you another commendable match."

"What do you define a commendable match?" She asked.

"Someone of good ancestry, someone worthy of you. I don't know if many can keep up with you, but someone who may at least survive you."

"Do I have any say in who it is?"

"Would you truly and actively contribute to making such a decision?" He peered across at her doubtfully. "I thought not." He continued when her eyes dropped. Would she want to lend her voice to such a thing? Wouldn't doing so make her complacent in the practice itself? But then, it may at least allow her some control over who she ends up married to… But even still, she found herself so torn, so much of herself still wanting to flee, more of herself wanting to rage and slaughter everyone who tried to force her hand, but the part of her held within her core didn't quite want to disappear again, didn't want to give up the familial connections she was just starting to remember how to feel.

"Will it be another Lannister?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not."

"And you're sure we cannot simply forgo this whole idea?" He shot her a look across the table but didn't respond. "Thought not." She mumbled after he looked back at his pieces.

They were coming close to the end of the game when he raised a new subject- likely the one he'd wanted to speak to her about initially. "We will be packing up camp and setting off on the morrow." He told her suddenly. "No point in lingering now that the work is done."

"And now that the 'Queen' is making threats against the crown?" She asked, not needing an answer. Surely it would make more sense to take the following day to prepare such a huge force to move and to set off early the following day? Unless he didn't wish to delay that long, and it was fairly clear why that would be.

"What will you do?" He asked rather than responding to her question. "You are, of course, welcome to travel with us."

She'd already been thinking about the question since it came up previously and so had her answer. "I wish to stay a few more days and then will set off. I'm not quite ready to leave yet and I'll catch up to the Army quickly enough on my own."

"I don't like the idea of you traveling the Kings Road alone."

"As I've already reminded you more than once, I was on my own already, before I met with your party out of sheer luck. You need not worry for me."

"Need I remind you of the men you met on the road? You think they are the only group of their kind? No. Jaime will remain behind with you. The two of you together can move as quickly as you would yourself, and I'd feel better knowing you would have an extra blade at your back."

"You truly think that's a good idea?" She asked incredulously. "I thought you wanted the two of us to keep our distance, anyway? Now you want us to travel together for a week or more without any company at all?"

"If you think I don't already know what the two of you have gotten up to, you're more ignorant than I believed. If not keeping your distance now brings the two of you closer, more power to you." He told her bluntly. "I expect to see you both within a fortnight of us setting off, so you're amongst the group before we come to the Neck."

She nodded her acceptance, not quite knowing what else to do. Then- she speculated what her brothers and mother would think of the idea and silently wondered if she might get away without them knowing any of the details at all.

The next morn, true to his word, the Lannister camp began the arduous task of packing up the camp that had been settled long enough to embed the tents in the hard-packed snow. Arya ducked from her room once again before her hand-maiden could come knocking to get her ready for the day and escaped down to the city proper where she knew the army would pass by on their way back to the Kings Road.

She made her way to a comfortable barrel she'd perched herself on before and then settled in to care for her weapons while she waited. She had no desire to say goodbye's- but still desired to watch them set off and so had found her current state to be the easiest solution.

She was surprised to be joined by someone unexpected less than an hour after she arrived and who did so silently enough that she didn't hear his approach or notice his presence until a shinny red apply was held out before her. Of course, the only one she knew who could move so silently was Jaqen and she found himself in his Lannister guard outfit.

She didn't need to ask what it meant, for it was clear enough without needing be spoken. No, what mattered much more to her was whether or not he would show himself to her again. Would he return to Braavos now that the threat has passed? Did he have another purpose in Westeros to fulfill? He had spoken to her of being an outlier, but she hadn't yet completed her task. Was there a timeline she wasn't aware of? She was spiraling, though the thoughts never showed on her face as she waited seemingly calm for him to speak, hands continuing their smooth strokes in guiding her blade against a borrowed whetstone.

"A man has a gift for a girl." He stated eventually, drawing something from a pocket sewn into his pants. Held between two fingers was a single berry, so deep a red that it appeared almost black, even in the weak sunlight. It was from the far east and grew on scraggly desert bushes. Its name, once translated, literally meant 'death,' because it was so poisonous in its pure form that eating a single small berry could cause the unfortunate soul to pass within a painful fifteen minutes. Despite the rich color of its skin, it's inner liquid could be carefully refined into a completely clear poison that held just the faintest flavor akin to cherries. The House kept the secret of that refinery close to their heart, but Arya had been educated in the process not long before she left.

Once refined it was a much more subtle poison. It didn't digest in the stomach and cause the extreme nausea and vomiting of the berry itself but rather passed easily until it reached the liver and gallbladder, where it mixes with the bile found within and start a slow organ failure that would take weeks to come to fruition.

During those first weeks, it would cause a loss of appetite, swells of nausea that would come and go, fatigue, muscle weakness and bouts of dizziness. Still, the symptoms were subtle enough at first to be brushed off or even go unnoticed completely depending on the circumstances. Its victims would often become dehydrated and malnourished without realizing it because they simply wouldn't feel hungry or thirsty.

They could waste away completely without realizing it, could become so weak that they might go to sleep and never wake. Arya didn't foresee its use taking so long though- for how would such a woman take to losing the strength in her muscles? But first she needed to refine the berry, a task of which she knew was another test in and of itself, for it truly was difficult to successfully complete.

She reached out to accept the tiny berry, moving it to a shielded pocket of her own until she could take care of it in full. "Thank you." She said quietly, silently reassured that he was clearly giving her more time to complete her most important test. "When will I see you again?" She asked, feeling slightly bolder.

"A man cannot say. A month. A year. More. There are many decisions that need to be made before that can be determined. For now, only time can tell."

She nodded her head, accepting his answer in its vagueness.

"A girl must not forget her duty again." He told her next, sounding sterner despite the continued lack of inflection in his voice. If she is called up, she must answer and answer fully."

"A girl will." She promised.

"Good." He said simply. "Valar morghulis." He said then, the familiar words rolling over her ears.

"Valar dohaeris." She answered, knowing it was his way of saying farewell."

Jaqen left but Arya remained in her spot until the noise swelled and the troop began to pass. She remained in her spot the hours it took before the last Lannister banner was out of sight. Only then did she rise to her feet and make her way back to the keep.

She wasn't quite sure what she expected, but she felt surprised when she found out her sole remaining Southern companion had been moved inside the keep and to the room previous occupied by Prince Trystane. It wouldn't do to leave him in the empty fields alone, after all. How would that look upon their hospitality or the continued piece between their two families? She found herself seated across from him when the noon meal was served, having returned to the main hall in just enough time to partake and fill her stomach.

She found, also to her slight surprise, that both Jon and Gendry were in attendance, along with the Dragon Queen, the rest of her family, and a few select others. All were oddly quiet. She glanced over at Gendry once she was settled, wondering how he was dealing with having his paternity called out so publicly and then devolve into such chaos. He seemed uncomfortable and out of place. She noticed his clothes were of a better quality than they'd been in the past, and northern in style. They made him look even more similar to his father in his own youth- when he'd still been strong and fit, wielding a war hammer like most men wielded a sword, though she personally had no way of knowing that to make such a connection.

She broke her gaze away when it became clear he wasn't going to look up from his plate and glanced around the rest of the table instead. Jaime was watching her but glanced away when she looked back at him. She held back a frown and continued on. When her eyes landed on Bran, she was surprised to find him already looking back at her with the oddly blank stare she'd become familiar with since her return. She looked back at him curiously, wondering at his thoughts. His own eyes moved away eventually and she finally started eating her meal.

"Sister?" Bran said, breaking the silence as people began to finish. "Might you help me to the Godswood?" Arya looked up to find him watching her again and not looking at Sansa so knew which sister he was speaking to. She nodded easily enough, both because it gave her an excuse not to linger and because she was truly curious what he wanted to speak about, for he didn't speak much at all now a days, so every instance was meaningful.

She stood and moved around the table to take hold of his wheeled-chair and pull him away from the others. He didn't speak again until they turned down the pathway leading into the trees, and neither was phased when they came to and then passed the spot the Night King had fallen. "There are things you need to know." He told her, speaking without warning.

"What things?"

"Things that are not mine to tell."

"How will I learn of them, then?"

"May ways, some better than others." He told her vaguely.

"If not the things I need to know, what do you wish to tell me?"

"You need to know that everything that has happened was necessary to get us to this point. It will be necessary to get us though the challenges we are still yet to face. The gods may seem cruel at times, the people thoughtless and lacking heart, but just remember that everything had to happen or we wouldn't be were we are today."

Her eyes dropped from the back of his head to the chair held beneath her palms and wondered if one of the 'things' he was referencing was his own fall and injuries. Her feet came to a stop and she moved around him so she could see his face instead. "Are both things related?"

"Everything is related."

"Who can tell me the things I need to know, if not you?"

"That's not for me to say." "

Arya let out a breath in frustration. "It seems you only speak in riddles these days, brother."

Bran smiled at that. It wasn't the same tooth bearing grin he'd had before things had gone to hell, but it was a smile none the less and seemed true, despite being less overt. "Once you know you'll understand why it can't come from me, but once you know, once you accept, so will he."

Tbc

Notes:

How is everyone doing with the COVID situation? I personally live close to one of the US hotspots, but am far enough away that it's only tickling into the hospital I work at so far, so we're holding steady here. For those of you who may be in quarantine or are under orders to shelter in place or stay home, I hope this brightened your Friday night/weekend a little bit.

As always, thank you for reading. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.