Arya

He sat there staring at her for such a long moment that Arya began to think that maybe she'd imagined him saying her name. It had come out at barely a whisper after all, maybe she'd only imagined what she wanted to hear.

"Do you not—" her voice wavered with question.

He was on his feet and in the blink of an eye he'd closed the space between them. His hands came to cup her face.

"Shh. Hush now lass. Of course I know you. I'm just surprised is all," he said pressing a kiss on her forehead. The contact broke something inside both of them and before she knew it his hands had left her face and had pulled her into a warm embrace as she sobbed against his chest. She hadn't cried in Gods know how long, not since shortly after her father's death most like.

"Gods Arya how I've missed you. You've no idea, no clue how its pained me not to know what'd become of you."

She looked up to see his cheeks slick with tears. Instinctively her hand went up to brush them away, and he leaned into her palm; closing his eyes and exhaling deeply as if he could get five years of solace and comfort from the simple contact. His arms, which remained locked around her torso, hugged her tighter against him.

"Lord Commander! Sir?"

His eyes snapped open in alarm but not before Arya had turned eyes fixed venomously on the intruder. Vero, the black brother who had been sent to check on the man who Olly had shot, stood, his jaw dropped open and his eyes wide, gaping at them. Arya supposed from his perspective they must have seemed to be in something of a lover's embrace, which was likely not what he had been expecting. Not to mention the fact that her face had changed, but she was still clearly dressed in the clothes of the boy he'd travelled with for the last three days.

Jon straightened and cleared his throat.

"Vero may I introduce you to my Lady Sister, Arya of the House of Stark."

"How do you do my lady?" He said almost automatically, giving her a slight bow, though he was clearly still dazed by the thought of her.

Arya felt the corner of her mouth quirk in amusement but gave him a nod of acknowledgement back, attempting to keep her face neutral.

"I should like to speak with my sister, Vero, would you mind telling the others—"

"Yessir; only the man Olly shot is dying sir, an' well, he has quite a bit of information we're thinking you'd like to know."

Jon glanced back at her, his eyes still full of strong emotion. Looking at her he sighed, and turned back to his watchman.

"Aye I'll come now," then, turning back to Arya he said in a low tone, "Stay here til I get back, please sister?"

She balked at that, surprised.

"I'll do no such thing. I'm coming with you this instant."

He gave her a sharp look, clearly not used to having his orders countermanded, but then he sighed again.

"Alright. I suppose it has to happen sometime. Come then, let's see what Olly thinks of you now."

Now that the secret was out she wished she could undo the bindings around her breasts and have done, but she could tell Vero was close to fainting at the sight of her scooping to pick up the discarded fleshy mask and she decided it would be best to wait a bit before introducing any new surprises.

She walked up behind Jon, wrapping the mask gingerly in her cloak and tucking Needle back into her belt as she went.

The man was where they'd left him, though Olly had flipped him over onto his back and was holding him propped half up on his lap. The poor boy was white as a sheet. Arya imagined he'd never had to be this close to someone whose life he'd taken before. To make matters worse, the man was having a rough time of dying. The snow around them was stained with the man's blood and he was coughing and sputtering between gasps. Olly's hands were trembling as he wiped the blood clear of the man's lips and without thinking, Arya knelt down beside him, taking the rag from his hands.

"I'll do it, you go clean yourself up now, you've done as much as anyone can," she said in a low, kind, voice.

He stared at her startled before his eyes flew questioning to Jon.

"It's alright. I'll explain it all in a bit. First we'll talk with the man here. You're free to go help Maddox with the horses if you want, or you can stay here with us, it's up to you man," he said nodding gravely at Olly. Arya felt her heart constrict seeing how much he resembled her father in that instant, giving the boy the option of protection and comfort but making him feel so proud and responsible that she knew he'd never take it.

Olly allowed Arya to take his place on the ground, cradling the man's head on her lap, but then stood brushing himself off before shaking his head and setting his face in a look of determination. "No sir Lord Commander, if it's all the same to you I'll stay here to see if his story changes any in the telling. Best we know either way."

Jon nodded back clasping him on the shoulder briefly in thanks before turning to the man.

"Now sir. Who is it that sent you to ambush me?"

The man, whose face was so white under his beard that he was starting to turn the grey blue color of dead flesh coughed and sputtered, but eventually ground out the words.

"St-stannis Baratheon"

That took Jon by surprise Arya could tell, though his brows only furrowed slightly deeper.

"And do you know why it is that Stannis wanted to have me killed?"

"We…we were to t-take you if we could manage it, kill you if not. He… he di-dn't want you to be taken by the B-Boltons."

"Stannis ordered you to kill me to keep the Bolton's from killing me?" The skepticism in Jon's voice was clear.

"Not worried… not worried ab-bout the B-Bolton's killing you. C-can't have them c-capture you. W-will tu-turn the tides." The man said, barely getting the last words out before he broke into a prolonged fit of coughing, blood and phlegm erupting from his mouth.

"Why? Why would them holding me turn any sort of tides? The Night's Watch would never join in the fighting to save my sorry skin – we're stretched thin enough as it is, and Stannis Baratheon knows that better than anyone."

But the man was past the point of answering. He just coughed and sputtered painfully; turning over and nestling farther into Arya's lap as if to get away from the pain and the cold of the world.

"Jon…" she said in a low comforting tone, looking up into his confused eyes. "Let me help him, he's told us all he can."

Surprised to hear her speak, and clearly still not over her presence himself, Jon nodded down at her slowly. Not waiting for any more permission she dipped into her pocket for the small vile. Uncorking it she turned the man's head slightly, pouring the Gift into his thirsting lips.

"Valar Morghulis" she whispered softly, her hand coming back to cradle his face. He let out one last sigh and was still.

She looked up to see Jon and Olly staring at her, both their eyes wide. Had she not been clear enough about what she was about to do? Jon recovered first, shaking himself in bewilderment.

"Olly, ride ahead with Maddox; set up camp at the first safe spot you come upon. We'll be along as soon as we dispose of the bodies. I want you to set up my tent this night as well. My sister will be joining us, and I'll need a place to speak with her in private."