~:Back to Braavos:~
The bedchamber was almost bare except for the bed, a wooden cupboard and an old wooden chair beside it. With the wooden shutters closed it was dimly lit and cool, much cooler than outside. The elderly maester lay on his back and looked over towards her, squinting at her with his faded violet eyes, though she knew that he was now totally blind and could not see her. He still wore his faded black robes and his maesters chain around his wrinkled neck He looked every one of his one hundred and more years.
It had been nearly a week since the Sons of the Harpy were defeated and her preparations to sail back to Braavos were almost complete. Captain Forel and Darion had hired some new crew members and they had also made Seabitch more seaworthy and restocked their supplies for the long journey ahead. All that was left was for Arya to say her goodbyes.
"Arya, I know it's you." Maester Aemon said softly, still peering across the room at her with his faded violet eyes. "Each morning, since I have fallen ill you have come to visit me at this time." He chuckled softly before coughing.
Arya couldn't help but smile and sat beside him on the wooden chair, taking his pale wrinkled hand into her own. "How are you feeling today?" She asked, though she knew deep down that he would probably never leave this bed again. She had seen many people die in her short life so she wasn't afraid, he seemed calm, at peace even.
"Age has finally caught up with me young Arya, soon I will rest." He replied, gently gripping her hand with what little strength was left in his frail old body. His veiny hands were pale and withered. "But do not be sad. I have led a full and eventful life." He continued, trying to comfort her, gently patting her hand with his free hand. "Death is something that comes for us all sooner or later."
Arya smiled and nodded, she found it strange that she had come to comfort him and to say goodbye and yet he was the one who was comforting her. "I wanted to come and say goodbye before I left, I leave for Braavos today. Mathis wishes me to return to the House of Black and White for further training and instruction, there is nothing more I can do here." She added, looking down at the elderly maester.
"Ah, we must go wherever duty takes us." He nodded slowly, pausing for a few moments as he collected his thoughts. He looked so weak and frail and Arya knew that he only had a few days left at most. "You have done well here Arya. Daenerys will take back the Iron Throne and the Seven Kingdoms will have a chance against the White Walkers. I just hope there is still time."
Duty was a word that Arya knew all too well growing up in Winterfell as a young lady, but it was also a word that she had grown to hate. Duty had taken her father to King's Landing to be Hand of the King. Duty had meant her brother Robb marching south and declaring war on the Lannister's. "I hope so too." She said quietly to herself as she stood and bid the elderly maester farewell for the final time. She hoped that there was still time to stop the White Walkers too or everything that she had done would have been for nothing.
After saying her farewells to Tyrion, and the others she met up with Ser Jorah who was patiently waiting for her at the docks. Jaqen had already left to track and find Euron Greyjoy who had fled Meereen shortly after the destruction of the Sons of the Harpy.
Arya knew that she had done all that she could in Meereen and it was now time for her to return to Mathis and tell him everything that had happened. It had been several moons since she had left the House of Black and White and Braavos behind and she was looking forward to returning home. But it wasn't her real home. She was a Stark, Winterfell was her true home.
As she walked up a creaking wooden plank to board Salt Bitch she looked over and saw that Captain Forel and Darion were giving out instructions to three new crew members. One of the men looked of similar size and age to Darion, though maybe not quite as large. The other two were clearly brothers by the look of them, both around thirty years of age.
The elder of the two brothers had a nasty looking scar down his left cheek and was perhaps an inch taller than his brother. They shared the same wavey brown hair and brown eyes, the same nose and ears even. They looked like they were from Braavos or Pentos from their appearance, definitely not from Westeros.
One night Arya watched them play Chevasse and being curious she couldn't help but ask them questions. They told her that they lived and grew up as orphans in Pentos and then had moved from one free city to another working as deckhands wherever coin was to be made. Mikel, the elder of the two told her that they had joined a mercenary group briefly until he was seriously injured.
When they assked about her she simply told them that her name was Arya and that she originally came from Westeros. She didn't want to lie to them so was very vague with her answers. She trusted Captain Forel and Darion's judgement, but Arya Stark was still a dangerous name to have and she wanted to be absolutely sure that she could trust them before revealing her true identity to them.
"Interesting pet you have?" Mikel said as he moved one of the wooden pieces across the black and white chequered board. "Never seen a wolf grow so large or be so tame."
"I've had her since she was a pup, I had no idea she would grow as big as she has." Arya replied as she watched Stevan move one of his pieces, removing one of Mikel's at the same time. "Don't worry, she won't harm you unless I tell her." She smiled and winked playfully.
The brothers both smiled nervously before laughing as they realized that she was teasing them.
Stevan, the younger brother eventually won the game of Chevasse and offered to teach Arya how to play, but it was getting late so she politely declined and turned in for the night. "Maybe on the morrow." She said sleepily as she headed for the door to return to her cabin for the night.
The other new crew member seemed really nice too, though he had a thick accent which made it hard for Arya to understand what he was trying to say to her. Like Darion, he had jet black skin so she knew that he was probably from Sothoryos. He did most of the heavy work along with Darion. He was a quiet, softly spoken man who preferred to be left alone to do his chores. He reminded her a little of Hodor in some ways, though he could speak more than one word! His name was really long and quite difficult to say so Arya called him Garo for short. Luckily he didn't seem to mind.
Due to the weather being against them it took several weeks to sail out of Slavers Bay, through the Gulf of Grief and around Valyria, but Arya was never bored. In the morning she helped out on deck and helped to prepare meals for the crew. Her cooking skills were limited, but she still knew how to make a hearty stew of chicken, carrots, potatoes and peas. Luckily Captain Forel had stocked up on hard bread and cheese too and failing that they had plenty of sausages so Arya made them fluffed potatoes and sausage. Failing that she was an expert at making lumpy porridge. None of the crew ever complained though, they knew that she was trying her best and never went hungry.
After lunch Arya practiced her Water Dancing until her arms and legs ached before climbing up to the crow's nest to keep watch. She felt relaxed up there, taking in the view of the seemingly endless sea. It was peaceful and gave her time to think on everything that had happened and what lay ahead. Each day that they sailed west the wind grew cooler and Arya soon had to wear a thick cape to keep warm at night.
When they had eaten in the evening she watched or learnt to play Chevasse with Stevan and Mikel, though she wasn't very good at it and always lost. She didn't mind though as it was still fun to play and it also helped her to bond with the two brothers. After that she would head down into the ships cargo hold to spend a little time with her loyal direwolf Nymeria who was always pleased to see her.
After several difficult weeks at sea Captain Forel decided to stop off at Lys to resupply and carry out a few minor repairs to the ship. Arya decided to take the opportunity to stretch her legs and take a look around and explore a new place. She had read a little about Lys and the Quarrelsome Daughters from her books in the House of Black and White. Over the years Lys had fought numerous wars with Tyrosh and Myr over the Disputed Lands, though things seemed peaceful at the moment.
She knew that Lys was a slave city, famous for it's Pleasure Houses. When she was a little girl she thought that Pleasure Houses were just special inns for girls, but now she knew the truth of it. Arya was thankful that Tyrion had stayed in Meereen to advise Daenerys, she had heard that he enjoyed the company of whores. She could only imagine what he would get up to had he travelled with them.
She also knew from her lessons with Master Garavel that two of the deadliest poisons originated from Lys, The Strangler and Tears of Lys. These rare and expensive poisons were so difficult to create that not even Master Garavel could make them.
High stone walls surrounded the mercantile city, protected by sellswords and mercenaries. Temples, shrines, fruit trees, palms and Pleasure Houses lined the streets and the waterfront. "They say that sunsets here are the most beautiful in the world." Ser Jorah said as he walked alongside her. He had claimed that he wished to see Lys for himself. Arya knew the truth though, that really he wanted to watch over her and keep her safe. She didn't mind though and felt safer for his company.
"Lys, a city where slaves outnumber their masters three to one. Some say they produce the finest bed slaves in the known world, breeding the most beautiful slaves with each other." He told her as they walked along the waterfront, past a small shrine to a god Arya did not know. It stood between some of the fruit trees and palms which seemed to grow all around the city.
A gentle but refreshing breeze cooled her face in the warmth of the sun. It felt nice to be back on dry land again. The Salt bitch wasn't the finest of vessels, Arya missed her little cabin on Sweet Lily. Compared to the Salt Bitch, Sweet Lily was a palace.
"Wealth is what matters most here, not birth." Ser Jorah said as she listened, walking past the third or fourth pleasure house in as many minutes. "Lys is ruled by a conclave of Magisters, the wealthiest and noblest men in the city." He continued as they walked up to the iron gates of a small temple to another god she did not recognise.
In the distance Arya could see a large temple with a red dome, the largest temple she had seen so far in Lys. A large sconce burned brightly with a fierce flame and priests in red robes walked the courtyard in front of it. She knew it was a temple of the Red God R'hllor. "A city of many faiths." She replied as she continued to look over toward the red temple, remembering back to what Mathis had told her back in the House of Black and White. 'R'hllor, The Red God, The God Of Death, The Seven, The Lord Of Light, The Old Gods and the new. Many faces of the same god.'
After Arya had insisted on watching the sunset Captain Forel was ready to set sail. Salt Bitch had been repaired and restocked and everybody felt better for a short rest on land. Arya really did think that the sunset in Lys was beautiful, though it looked more beautiful from her chamber window in Winterfell. That to her was the most beautiful sunset in the world.
Leaving Lys behind and sailing north to Braavos the weather took a turn for the better for several days. It also grew a lot colder, especially at night. Arya leaned against the side of the ship looking into the distance, wandering what the future held for her. The Titan of Braavos loomed up ahead. She had heard the stories about it, but it held no fear for her. Arya couldn't wait to get back to the House of Black and White and take a warm bath and sleep in a comfy bed again. She was also looking forward to seeing Syrio and Mathis again, old Master Garavel too.
She could see ships of all sizes in the Purple Harbor and the Iron Bank looking imposing in the distance. She had walked through the grand square in front of the bank many times, but had never ventured inside the huge wooden doors. She wondered what it was like inside. Did they really have as much gold as everyone said they had?
They arrived in the Purple Harbor just after the sun had set below the horizon and the first stars had started to appear in the night sky. She said her goodbyes to Captain Forel, Darion and the rest of the crew, as well as Ser Jorah who had stayed behind before leaving and heading into Braavos with Nymeria at her side. Among the many fine ships in the Purple harbor Salt Bitch looked even more reagged than ever, but Arya didn't hate it so much now. It had got them back to Braavos in one piece and for that she was thankful.
The harbor was fairly quiet and the streets were almost deserted. The inns and taverns she walked past were packed and thriving from merchants and common folk after a busy day of trading. She could hear singing and gossip as she walked past and the smell of ale and wine filled the night air.
It was cold and Arya could see her breath steaming from her reddening nose as she exhaled. There was a slight breeze and it bit sharply at her face. It was the coldest she had ever felt in Braavos, winter was truly here. She couldn't help but wonder how cold it was back in Westeros, back in Winterfell and at the Eyrie. She hoped that her sister was warm, Sansa had always hated the cold. Old Nan had told her that the snow had fell a hundred feet deep one winter and that common folk froze in their own homes and lords in their castles. Arya didn't know if this was true or not, more likely it was just another of Old nan's tales.
After pulling her hood up and wrapping her thick grey cape around herself and her hood up to keep warm, she made her way back to the House of Black and White. Nymeria trailed close behind her. Crossing several wooden bridges that spanned the many canals and up the long winding set of cobbled steps which always made Arya's legs ache by the time she reached the top.
Arya had missed her little chamber. Everything was just how she had left it. Her bed was still made, her wooden shutters were still closed, her silver looking glass still hung on the wall. Her thoughts drifted as she looked at her reflection, wondering if she would ever see her chamber in Winterfell again and what it was like now.
Feeling tired after her journey, Arya decided to take a quick bath to get cleaned up and then get some much needed sleep. She would meet with Mathis on the morrow when she would be well rested.
Arya felt so angry at her sister as she marched over to where the sheep and goats were kept. 'It's not my fault I'm not very good at needlework, I can't help it if my stitches are always crooked' She thought to herself as her wolf blood started to boil. Sansa was better than Arya at almost everything, it was so annoying.
And why did Sansa always insist that she should act more ladylike? Arya hated being a lady sometimes and just wanted to play and explore. Why couldn't Sansa understand that she didn't want to be a lady? 'Being a lady is boring, It's so unfair. But, I'll teach her' She thought as knelt down to scoop up a handful of sheep shit and stuffed it into her pockets.
The smell was awful, but Arya didn't mind a little dirt and wiped her dirty hands on her wool dress. The dress was one of Sansa's old ones of course, as Arya wasn't allowed a new dress until she had learned how to keep hers clean and not rip them.
Her mother had almost given up on trying to keep Arya clean and looking presentable at times, much to her fathers amusement. Her hair was always tangled or knotted and she always had a smudge on her face or dirt under her fingernails.
Arya marched her way back over to the castle as lots of people gave her funny looks or backed away because of the foul smell. Arya didn't care though, she just ignored them, she was too focused on getting revenge on her sister.
"Arya Stark, where are you young lady?" She could hear her mother shouting from across the castle yard. Septa Mordane must have told her what had happened during her class that morning she figured, but Arya wasn't ready to face her mother just yet.
She quickly ran into the castle and up to Sansa's bedchamber, her footsteps echoeing against the stone floor and walls. She knew that Sansa would still be in class and that her mother wouldn't think to look for her in there, so she slipped inside and with a bit of effort closed the heavy oak door behind her.
Compared to her own bedchamber, Sansa's looked immaculate. Things were neat and tidy and everything had it's place. Unlike Arya's room which looked as if an angry bull had been set loose in it.
She walked over to Sansa's bed and pulled back the furs and sheets to get at her matress. She carefully cut a small hole in it and started to stuff the sheep shit inside. The bedchamber had already started to stink and even Arya felt a little queasy from it. She then pulled out the needle and thread that she had taken from class and started to sew up the little hole that she had cut. Her stitches were as crooked as ever but she didn't care.
'That'll teach you' She thought to herself, satisfied with her work. She made her sister's bed look neat and tidy so that she wouldn't suspect anything before walking over to the door and opened it slightly. When she knew that it was clear she slipped out and ran down the hallway to her own bedchamber. Septa Mordane was inside waiting for her, looking none too pleased and worse...her mother was waiting too.
The next morning Arya woke early as the orange glow of sunlight crept through the wooden shutters that covered her window. Nymeria was still asleep at the side of her bed but pricked up an ear as Arya sat up, pulling her thick grey blanket around her to keep warm. Her slender, scarred stomach rumbled a little. Nymeria yawned and sat up looking at Arya with her yellow eyes. "You're hungry too aren't you?" She asked, watching as Nymeria tilted her head to the side a little.
"I thought so." Arya couldn't help but smile and then stretched before hopping out of bed. The hard stone floor of her chamber felt so cold against her flesh and she soon sat back on her bed to pull on some thick wool socks and then a simple thick wool dress from her wooden cupboard.
After making her bed and washing her face in her wash basin she quickly ran a brush through her hair and tied it back so that it wouldn't be in her face before going to the kitchen to make some food to break her fast. Hot porridge with honey and some lemon tea to wash it down soon helped to warm her up. Nymeria happily ate a ham and three chickens that Arya found hanging up in the larder.
Arya tidied up after herself and then made her way up to see Mathis in his chambers, Nymeria followed quietly behind her. She wondered what he was going to say to her. 'Why does he want me back in Braavos? Why did he send Jaqen to finish what I had started in Meereen? Did I do something wrong? Did I take too long?' Were some of the questions that went through her mind as she approached the door to his chambers.
Arya could not say, she had no answers and it was starting to trouble her. Despite her worries she was looking forward to seeing Mathis again. He had always treated her well since she had arrived in Braavos and she only hoped that she hadn't disappointed him in Meereen.
As usual Mathis was sat at his desk reading what looked like a very old book when she entered his chamber. He seemed to have aged since she last saw him, hints of grey had appeared in his hair and in his beard. As she walked over he marked his page and closed it, placing the book down on his desk before standing to greet her. "Arya, you have returned." He smiled at her, he seemed pleased to see her.
"Yes." She nodded and smiled back, pleased to see him too. "Things were more complicated in Meereen than I had hoped..." She started to explain before Mathis held up his hand to stop her.
"It's alright Arya, I'm sure that you have done well. Tell me everything." He sat at his desk again and signaled for her to sit too.
Arya nodded and sat before telling him everything that had happened in Meereen. She told him of her journey to Oros and back. She told him how she had helped to eliminate the threrat of the Sons of the Harpy with Jaqen and the Unsullied. She told him how Euron Greyjoy had fled Meereen soon sfter and that Jaqen was planning to track him down and kill him.
"Very good Arya. I will compensate Captain Forel for the loss of his ship, he has been a good and loyal friend for many years." Mathis said after he finished listening to her. "Now it is time for you to complete your training, to master your Water Dance and become the Faceless Lady you were meant to be." Mathis smiled at her again, placing a hand on her slender shoulder as he walked past her, heading toward the door. "Walk with me young Arya and I will explain."
Arya turned and walked alongside him down to the basement door. He used both of their iron coins to open the locked door before leading her down the stone steps to the basement far below.
Arya had only been down to the basement once before and it was just as dark and eerie as she remembered, though the Heart Tree seemed to be withering and dying. It's leaves were mostly brown instead of blood red and some even lay at the foot of the tree. It felt a lot colder than before.
"The Heart Tree's power is dying and so am I. " Mathis said as he touched the white trunk of the Heart Tree, some of the white bark flaked off to his touch. "Time is short." He continued in a firmer tone as he glanced over to her. "You are to train with Master Syrio every morning, every afternoon and every evening of every day. You must become stronger and faster and master the skills that he will teach you to become a true Water Dancer."
Arya nodded silently. She couldn't say why but she suddenly felt a little afraid. 'Fear cuts deeper than swords' She reminded herself as she stroked Nymeria's head softly.
"Soon I will send you on your final mission and you must be ready." He started to walk back up the stone steps, his footsteps echoed against the cold stone walls, his shadow long and dark behind him.
"I will be ready." She replied feeling determined as she followed him, wondering what her final mission could be.
Syrio trained her harder than ever, pushing Arya to her limits. Every morning he made her run the streets of Braavos to build up her strength and her stamina. 'As strong as a bear'
When she returned to the House of Black and White he made her chase chickens in the training yard to increase her agility. 'As quick as a snake' He would tell her as she chased after them. 'Slippery as an eel'
Then he would send her back out into the streets of Braavos to catch a stray cat and bring it to him before releasing it again. He didn't want cats which had owners because they were often slow and fat, too easy to catch. They had to be stray cats, mean and quick and fierce. And when she returned with a stray cat that she had caught before he sent her out again to catch another.
At first she caught the older, slower stray cats. They were easy to catch though their scratches hurt and itched just as much. Arya was thankful that she could make some balm to heal the impressive collection of scratches on her hands. Syrio however wasn't impressed. "A girl must catch faster, meaner cats if she is to become a true Water Dancer."
The next day she decided to prove to Syrio that she could catch a faster, meaner cat than before. She soon spotted a large ginger cat which hissed as she first approached. "It's ok, I won't hurt you." She said softly to it as she crept towards it lightly on the balls of her feet. She knew that it would run and wanted to get as close as possible before it did.
Off it ran as swift as a deer down the cobbled steps from the House of Black and White and across a wooden bridge of one of the many canals that ran through Braavos. Past the Sept Beyond the Sea and deeper into the city. Past the Temple of the Moonsingers it led her and all the way to the Purple Harbor before she finally managed to corner and catch it, much to the amusement of some onlookers.
It scratched visciously at her top and hissed nastily at her before finally settling into her arms as she held it against her chest, stroking along it's back. The ginger cat closed it's eyes and purred softly. "Poor thing, I bet you've never had an owner to look after you have you? That's why you're so mean." She said as she started to make her way back to the House of Black and White.
She got some strange looks from people as she walked carrying the large ginger cat that she had cheekily named Sansa. Arya's hair was a mess, her face was grubby, her top was torn, her hands were scratched and she probably looked like a street urchin, but Arya didn't care.
In the afternoon Arya and Syrio practised swordplay with weighted wooden training swords until her slenders arms ached so much that she could barely move them. She also collected a few bruises for her efforts though she never complained, it just made her more determined. 'As fierce as a wolverine'
The evening was a mixture of balancing lessons and more swordplay, but this time with real swords that had blunted edges instead of the weighted wooden ones they had used in the afternoon.
Some days Syrio would make her climb the tree at the back of the training yard and balance on one foot on the bottom branch. Other days he made her balance at the top of one of the staircases inside the House of Black and White. "Remember girl, every hurt is a lesson and every lesson makes you stronger." He would tell her each time she fell and collected more bruises.
Every night she would go to bed exhausted and sometimes feeling a little battered and bruised, but she soon fell asleep. Unlike her training before, she had no free days where she was allowed to do as she wished. Training, practice, training followed by more practice. Syrio was relentless, more so than Septa Mordane ever was with her needlework lessons!
Occasionally Syrio decided to give her some less physical training. One afternoon he took her out of Braavos to a nearby stream to catch fish with her bare hands. The lesson here was patience and to test her reflexes. For hours they stood barefoot in the stream. Syrio caught seven fish where Arya failed to catch any. The next time she did a little better and caught a Flat Fish which she ate for supper. Syrio wasn't too impressed though as Flat Fish were slow swimmers, but Arya felt happy with her efforts and it tasted good too.
Another time Arya stood with Needle while Syrio threw fruit and vegetables at her. All she had to do was cut them before they hit her. Syrio started slowly so it was easy and then he started to speed up, throwing faster and faster so it was hard to keep up. Arya had never hated apples so much when one hit her on the nose. She had two black eyes for over a week.
After a few moons she could feel herself becoming faster and stronger. She could practice her swordplay and her arms no longer ached. Her legs no ached as she ran the streets of Braavos and the stray cats and chickens became easier to catch. She never fell from her balancing lessons and catching fish became easier. Not once did she complain that her knees were scraped or that her hands were scratched from catching stray cats or blistered from climbing the tree in the training yard. And she made sure that she never got hit in the face from fruit again, for that she was truly thankful.
Four moons later Mathis came to watch her train with Syrio in the training yard. He let her finish before approaching. "Master Syrio tells me that you are doing well, really well." He said to her as he sat on a nearby wooden bench, leaving room for her to sit next to him.
Arya sat next to him and watched as Syrio left. "Thank you." She replied as she wiped the sweat from her brow with her sleeve, trying to catch her breath.
"We must talk, things are developing quickly now. Winter has come and the long night is upon us. The Night's King and his White Walkers have attacked the wildling village of Hardhome. Your cousin Jon was lucky to escape with his life."
It still felt strange to hear Jon being called her cousin. She knew deep down inside that it was true, but to her Jon was still her big brother and she would always be his little sister. She missed him so much. Of all her siblings he was the one she had always felt closest too. Unlike Sansa, Arya had never cared that Jon was a bastard.
"We now know that valyrian steel can kill a White Walker. The best warriors in Westeros must be armed with valyrian steel when it becomes time to face the White Walkers. Kill the White Walkers and it will break the power they hold over their army of undead."
Arya nodded, taking in what he was telling her.
"But first we must aid Daenerys." Mathis continued.
"How can I do that?" Arya asked a little confused. She thought that she was helping Daenerys before being called back to Braavos to complete her training.
"Come with me Arya and I will tell you more." Mathis said as he used the iron coins to open the lock, telling her his plan as he lead her down into the basement once again. The Heart Tree looked even more withered than before. It's leaves were now all brown and many lay dead and rotting on the ground.
Mathis took her over to the grey pool where she had first learned to change her face. The rough black stone cup rested on the edge and the little worn black rug was still beside it. "You will need a new face to travel freely through Westeros, Jayne Snow is known throughout the Riverlands." He leaned down to whisper a name in her ear.
Arya smiled when she heard who her new target was. The last time that she had done this Jaqen had told her that Littlefinger was her target and she had doubts. Littlefinger hadn't done anything to her or her family as far as she knew. Why did he have to die? She had no such doubts over her new target.
Arya knelt on the worn black rug before saying the name she had been given. She then dipped the black stone cup into the grey water and drank from it. "Valar Morghulis." She said confidently, looking down at her reflection in the grey water as her appearance slowly changed. Her hair stayed long and brown, but her face thinned and her eyes were now dark brown instead of grey.
"My name is Catelyn Rivers." She said to Mathis, placing the rough stone cup down by the grey pool before standing.
"Now go. Take whatever you may need. This is my last instruction for you Arya of House Stark, for you will never return here and we shall never see each other again."
"But why?" She asked, she didn't want to leave Braavos forever. It was her home, not her true home like Winterfell, but it was still her home. She couldn't understand why they would never see each other again?
"When the Night's King and his White Walkers are defeated all magic will fade from this world, including the magic that has kept me and my brother alive for so long. The dragons will fall from the sky, The Wall will crumble and the Children will be gone forever. Giant folk will no longer walk the earth and winters wolves will no longer prowl it's forests." He placed a hand on her slender shoulder, giving it a gentle but reassuring squeeze.
Arya understood what that meant, but she wasn't afraid. "I understand." She replied quietly.