A/N: Hey guys - sorry for the long delay! Let me know what you think!

Arya

Ramsay's face broke out in a grin, and he began to take a step towards her. She forced herself to stay still waiting for just the right moment, when he was just so far away that she could draw needle and catch him in the chest in the same stroke and then follow up with the knife up her sleeve without having to over extend herself and leave her front open for a counter attack. Just two steps more and she'd have him right where she…

But he was too clever for that, instead he'd taken out his blade and made to slash at Jon's exposed torso – forcing her to close the distance between them hastily to black his blow, and then they were off. He was a good swordsmen, but she was better, a fact that became more and more obvious with each passing blow. She landed cuts on his thigh and shoulder, eventually scraping down his arm and leaving his forearm bloodied. He let out a hiss of breath at that but his eyes didn't fill with the concern most men would show at knowing their opponent had just landed a significant blow. No, instead Ramsay's eyes burned with a look of maniacal amusement, and his grin, if anything, widened.

"You're good," he said cheerfully, parrying her next attack and shoving back against her blow so that she had to skip lightly back onto the balls of her feet to keep her center of gravity.

"I had thought that it was only my drunkenness," he said lunging at her with what could have been a death blow in a less skilled opponent, she just side stepped the attack easily. "But I was wrong, you really are that good."

She let him talk, ignoring him and focusing instead on the ringing of the swords between them, she saw her in and landed another slicing blow on his collarbone before he fell back ,, knocking her blade away.

"If Stark girls are this good, it amazes me we were ever able to defeat your family."

Her next lunge was more erratic after that. Keep calm. Control the anger, don't let him bait you.

"How did we defeat you Starks anyway?" he said, a mean smile spreading across his face.

Don't take the bait. Even if he talks about his father betraying Robb and your mother, leave it.

"Oh I remember now…" he began, falling back two paces so there was space between them for the first time since they'd begun the fight.

"We cheated."

And with that he threw his blade at her. She moved out of the way quickly, avoiding any serious harm, and the blade only managed to glance her right leg. She couldn't understand it – now that left him with no sword, no means of defending himself except his long dagger, and left her with barely a scratch.

No, she couldn't understand it – until she started to move.

The Mummer's Freeze. She recognized the poison immediately as it began to snake through her body. Already her legs felts heavy and her arms tingled with the effort to stay en garde.

"See what I like about you so very much the first time we met, in addition to your breasts and the look of your thighs when you let your skirts fall to the ground, was the fact that you cheated. I love cheating – it's so much more fun to play a game when only you know the rules, don't you think?"

She was struggling to keep hold of her sword now and with one last jolt of energy she thrust, aiming straight for Ramsay's heart, but she was too slow. The bastard batted away her blow with ease and the force of his parry was almost enough to knock the sword from her hand.

"Impressive," he said, and there was a hint of grudging respect in his voice. "I've seen men twice your size drop to their knees after only thirty seconds of coming in contact with the Mummer's Freeze. You must really want to kill me if you were able to keep fighting after almost a minute."

She swayed dangerously on the spot, and he grinned.

"Here it comes. Do you know, sweetling, what the Mummer's Freeze does? I bet you do, clever girl like yourself, but in case you don't let me tell you. See that tingling you're feeling, that means your body is slipping into paralysis. Don't worry – you'll be able to see, hear, and feel everything. You just won't be able to move."

Behind Ramsay, Jon began to struggle again against his bonds in earnest.

"Ah yes brother dearest. I suspect he's not very happy right about now is he?"

"Let her go Ramsay or I swear to god I'll kill you and your entire blood line." Jon called from the bed.

"Tisk tisk. He's not very friendly, that brother of yours. It seems like someone should teach him a lesson."

She swayed again and the bastards hands came out to steady her, pulling her hips against his erection and crushing her there. She was repulsed but even more so by the fact that she couldn't even lift her hands to push him away or curse him. All she could do was glare at him, and try to ignore the sounds of Jon, wrenching at his bindings to try to get free.

"Hmmm… see the problem with this is you're not quite as much fun when you're not fighting me. No, I think what I'll do – I think I'll have my way with your pretty older brother's ass, and then, then when the poison starts to wear off, then you and I can play. How does that sound, hmm?"

He released her momentarily and came back a second later, dragging a chair behind him. He pushed her down into it unceremoniously, and spun her so that she was facing the bed, her eyes locked onto Jon's. His were wild with fury and frustration and she could see the lines of blood from where he'd rubbed his wrists raw trying to get his bindings undone. Theon stood groveling in the corner of the room by the window – simultaneously trying not to look and unable to take his eyes off the horror that was about to unfold.

"I want you to watch." Ramsay said to her gleefully in his singsong voice, taking hold of her head and forcing it upwards so that even if she looked down she wouldn't be able to take her eyes off what was happening. She glared up at him and he smiled down at her, his hand still cupping her face. His smile waivered momentarily and a dark look came into his eyes, and he moved around in front of her, coming between her and Jon, his waist level with her face, the bulge in his breeches less than a foot away.

"You are a pretty little thing aren't you? I've been dreaming about fucking that mouth of yours while you watch me with those big grey eyes for weeks now."

His hand went to his stays and Jon let out a strangled cry of fury from the bed when he realized what Ramsay was about to do.

"Yes, I've changed my mind. I can't wait any longer to feel that sweet mouth on my cock. I'll just let you get me good and wet for your brother and then I'll—"

Whatever horrors he was planning on inflicting Arya will never know. At that moment his words were cut off and replaced with a sick gargling sound as blood showered over her. There was nothing she could do to stop it – it was in her eyes and mouth, making her gag despite the paralysis. She heard the sound of Ramsay's body drop to the floor and through her blood clouded eyes she saw Theon – razor in hand, staring down at the body of the Bolton Bastard and trembling with shock.

"Theon! Cut me loose!" Jon called from the bed, and the Iron born jolted around jerkily, cutting the ties around Jon's wrists and ankles with erratic strokes.

The second his bindings were cut Jon flew off the bed, making it to her in such a swift motion that she would have cried out in surprise if she could speak. Then she was in his arms, being huddled against his chest as he wiped the blood from her face and eyes. When the cloth was gone she was staring up at him, her grey eyes locked on his own, his face a wreck of raw emotion. She wished she could've closed her eyes – it killed her to see him like this, still breathing heavy with adrenalin and fear, the torture of helplessness still fresh enough to make him wide eyes and almost crazed looking.

"Gods Arya, how could you… what he could've done… what he almost did…" his voice was tight in a manner she'd never heard from him before, strained with emotions that she knew were weighing on him. Her eyes dropped to his lips and she strained internally against her paralysis, thinking how much she'd like to kiss him, to tell him that she was alright, that they were alright, and that what almost happened never needed to haunt either of them. He saw her eyes flick downwards, and when her eyes returned to his there was something else there as well, a raw hunger that he'd only let her see a few times now, but that she would remember for the rest of her days.

And then he was kissing her, his soft lips crushing against her lustful and hungry for her. She wished she could kiss him back, but then his lips were gone and his eyes had left hers and were fixed over her shoulder, guilt and wariness playing across his features.

Theon. There was no way the Iron Born could've mistaken that kiss for brotherly affection. Not that they had time to worry about that anyway. Jon seemed to arrive at the same conclusion, and he straightened defiantly, almost daring their old companion to say something about what he had just seen. When Theon continued to say nothing Jon spoke.

"We need to get out of here. We need to get to the coast or at least to the Dread Water. Will you help us?"

The question hung in the air as she stared up at her brother, knowing what it cost him to ask Theon Greyjoy for help. She'd known Theon all her life, and he'd never been particularly kind to her but Jon – Jon and Theon had been play fellows and enemies since they were little more than babes. They'd always been competitors for Robb's affections, and Theon had always taken every opportunity he could to remind Jon that as bad as being a hostage was, it was still better than being a bastard. She knew from the little Jon had said during their time together, that not going to join Robb's cause while he had the chance was one of his greatest regrets, and she guessed that he – like her – blamed Theon above almost all others for the demise of their brother's cause.

And then there was Bran and Rickon. Still to this day she'd never accepted it – never truly believed that Theon was capable of such treachery – never truly given up hope that the reports were wrong. But those were the idle hopes of a heartbroken sister, she knew.

No – Theon Greyjoy deserved to die a thousand deaths for the hurt he'd inflicted on her family. But instead of staying enemies to the last he'd saved her. That was as clear as day and that was making her already drugged head spin with confusion. And apparently for Jon that one god act, and the direness of their situation was enough of a reason to extend the olive branch. He was a better person than she could ever hope to be, but still she wasn't sure if he was right to rely on Theon, recent act of heroism or not.

But then she heard him speak from behind her, and she knew their lives were in his hands now.

"Reek can get you to safety b-but you have to c-come quickly. Y-you cannot g-go to the sea though. The d-dragons, the dragons are coming from the sea. O-once the dragons c-come you cannot escape."