She had imagined her return to Winterfell differently. She imagined proud direwolf banners hanging from the great keep, and there they were. She imagined her home bustling with life and soldiers practicing in the court yard, jesting, and praising the Stark name. She imagined Ghost laying lazily on the snow watching the people hurry through the castle, children playing near the great wolf and feeding him bacon when their mothers weren't watching. Mostly, she imagined how it would be to see Jon again.
Jon Snow would be there grinning at her opening his arms wide and she would run to him and embrace him hard. She would tell him about everything she had done and endured since leaving home and he would tell her how he went from taking the black to becoming King in the North. They would share stories all night long and by time the sun rose the next morning they would be the same as before. Like they were before stags and lions showed up at their door.
But Jon wasn't there. He was far away, like always. It wasn't all a loss, however, her sister and brother were there. They were alive and well, all she could have hoped for concerning her remaining family. Once she thought were long gone. They weren't, the wolves had come again and now they were together again. Except for Jon.
Her reunions with Sansa and Bran were sweet and happy, but nothing compared to what it would have been like with her favorite brother. Although she was truly happy to see them, it was bittersweet as she realized that it wasn't only her that went through an ordeal. They all did. They all changed. But they were together, and that was what she would whisper to herself before they went to bed.
But soon those whispers stopped and others took hold of her. Names that needed to be dealt with, and a new one in particular that had consumed her since her arrival home. Littlefinger.
He strolled through the halls of Winterfell the same way he did the Red Keep years ago, as if they were his. His manner was calm and worst of all smug. If he wasn't whispering in the ears of the Northern Lords, then he was whispering in Sansa's ear. Arya would watch as her sister would lean into Littlefinger with a serious expression considering his words.
She shouldn't have said those things to Sansa, but she couldn't help herself. How could she trust her? The whole of Winterfell treated her like a Queen, but she was not a queen. Jon was the KING. Sansa had said that the Lords were fickle, that she was making sure Jon still had an army when he returned. Arya knew she had ulterior motives. How could she not? Jon was always Arya's brother, but to Sansa he was always the lowly bastard half-brother.
She is your sister, a small voice whispered, she is part of your pack.
A light drizzle of snow began to fall around her. She looked around her. Gods she missed this. The branches of the weirwood tree sheltered her too much from the snow so she stood up from her seat and walked out into the open to feel the snow. She closed her eyes and listened to the it.
The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. That was what her father had said once. But if she was being true to herself Arya wasn't so sure he was right. She had been a lone wolf for quite some time, and though lone, she survived. Being alone she only had to trust one person, one person. Herself.
It was easier that way she realized. This being alone witnessing the snowfall was the only peace she had felt since coming home. Since leaving home. I was better this way. Being a lone wolf. She did not need a pack then, why would she need one now? If Jon wanted to be part of her pack she would allow him, but only because she had to protect him from Littlefinger and Sansa.
It does not matter that they are all wolves. Wolves had teeth and claws too. She was stupid back then, and so was her father. There is no pack, everyone is looking out for themselves. Arya was no longer surprised. Why should she be if history was any indication? The dance of dragons: siblings fighting. The Baratheons fought each other most recently. Cersei's hatred for her imp brother was no secret either. Why should they be any different?
"It's starting to pick up." Bran startled her. No one snuck up on her anymore. She was not surprised by anything. Yet, a moment of distraction was all it took for her brother to come wandering around.
This is why it was better to be alone.
"I haven't seen snowfall in a long time." She responded.
"That's all I ever see."
Truth be told Arya avoided Bran. He was harder to dissect. He was eerie, his mischievous childhood smile gone.
He is part of your pack too her thoughts betrayed her.
"What do you think of Littlefinger?" She asked, masking any curiosity she had about his answer. She wanted to come off aloof.
"He is an everyman." Bran said staring at the snow.
"What is an everyman?"
"An everyman is a man who is everywhere and every when."
Seven hells, she should have walked to her chambers when she had the chance.
Whether he had noticed her frustration with his answer or not Arya couldn't say, but Bran continued,
"Men like him have existed since the dawn of time and will exist long after we are gone and our legacies, triumphs, and failures and that is because the god they worship will never cease to exist."
"What god is that?"
"Power."
Arya said nothing. She was mulling over his words. What if Sansa worships this god too?
"It is a good thing we are together." Bran actually smiled at her.
"We may be in the same keep, but we are not together." Arya couldn't hide the bitterness from her voice.
"We've all faced some sort of treachery. Perhaps together we can learn to over come it." Bran said knowingly.
Arya said nothing.
Had that not been what she always wanted? For her family to be together again, for her pack to be whole again? Too much time had passed the gaps between them were too great.
"Rest assure Arya, our family is together again. It might take us a bit to know each other again, but we are together." With that Bran motioned to the guard standing away to come fetch him, and left her to think.
His words should sooth her, but she was quick to dismiss them. There were plenty of instances where she thought she would be with her family again, or even have a family altogether.
The faceless men had none, for they were no one. Her father was murdered in front of her. Her mother and brother were dead minutes before she could reach them. The hound was dead too, and he never treated her the way one treats family. The brotherhood betrayed her.
No, that's not right. They betrayed Gendry. Gendry who also didn't want to be her family. Who chose someone else over her. It still hurt. Mayhaps the face she gave him when he said that was the hurt face Sansa had bestowed not too long ago.
So then why would anyone want to be her family, and after all this time why does she still desire family?
You'd be my lady he had said to her.
Stupid bull.
He could have been here too. He could have traveled with her and the Hound. The nights after the Red wedding were terrible. She could have used someone like Gendry. Someone kind, someone who would lend her his shoulder to cry on. He seemed the type. The hound was little help those nights. They could have trained as faceless men together. He could have been in Winterfell right now in the smithy making weapons for Jon's army. Perhaps if he were here she would be a different Arya, a softer Arya. Not one who mistrusts her family.
Stupid bull.
It was all his fault. It was her fault too. She was stupid too. It was her fault that Bran's words left a shimmer of hope within her heart. It was her fault that she felt guilty after saying those things to her sister. It was her fault that she still missed that stupid stubborn bull.
Gods she really was stupid, after all this time she still desired it. Family, a pack of her own. Now she had it. Even that wasn't enough.
It's her own fault, that she believed she might see him again. Why not? She was here in Winterfell with her family, watching the pretty snow fall.
The disappointment and sadness she'll feel when she doesn't see him again, that will be her own damn fault too.
***END NOTE:***
Hello again! So I had originally intended for this to be a one-shot, yet here we are. If I'm being honest I doubt that I will continue this work after this chapter...but who knows! Anyway, thanks for reading! Also sorry if it was lame.
Oh shit! One more thing: this happens after Arya and Sansa have their little chat in Sansa's bedroom.