Arya's eyes snapped open as the dragon's roar faded. She sat up, instantly alert, noting the sun hadn't fully set yet. Not that she'd seen much of the actual sun since she'd left King's Landing. The days were deeply gray, the nights inky black. The only true light came from the streams of fire the dragons rained down.
When she'd finally arrived at Winterfell, after detouring to find her mother – and Gendry in the process, which was a pleasant surprise – she'd been shocked and saddened to see how badly damaged it was. But her mother had merely set her jaw and began overseeing the work, finding the steward that been sent up from White Harbor and taking charge of everything. She'd fought Arya about continuing up to the Wall, even after being told that the King had asked her to deliver a message to Jon. She only agreed when Gendry said he'd go with her, and even then reluctantly.
She'd continued her masquerade as Arry Snow, although she almost lost that too when Jon saw her in the courtyard. Well, when Nymeria and Ghost saw each other, and he'd come to see what the commotion was. When she'd spoken with he and the Queen – Dany, she'd insisted – they'd told her that they were planning to go into the forest with the dragons and drive the White Walkers back, and hopefully find the Children of the Forest. They'd been essential in defeating them the last time, according to history. So she and Gendry joined the expedition. Jon had been as skeptical as the rest of her family but gave in quickly, not wanting to argue with her. Although he did make her sword fight, so he could see how good she was. She wasn't the best, she knew, but she was good enough to beat Gendry, and one of the other two men Jon had her fight. "Two out of three," he'd nodded. "Alright. Good enough."
So for the last five weeks, they'd been fighting the White Walkers. She'd told herself that she wasn't afraid, but Dany relieved her of that notion rather quickly. "If you aren't afraid, you're a fool," she'd said bluntly. "We're all afraid." Even with the dragons, they'd had a substantial amount of losses. One of the men, Daren, carried a tall battle axe. After the first battle, he'd set about the gruesome task of chopping off the heads of all of their dead.
"So they don't walk again," he'd said grimly. After that they left him to it, even bringing their dead back to camp for him. It was a grisly task, but they all knew it had to be done.
Pushing to her feet, she found a quiet place against a tree to relieve herself, and then gathered her things and got them put away, and wandered towards the cookfire where Gendry grinned at her. She smiled in return.
"Hello Arry," Dany said pleasantly. "Did you sleep well?"
Arya shrugged. "As well as I could," she said. She'd found the Queen to be friendly and polite, and fierce in battle. That black dragon she rode shot fire with deadly aim and accuracy. "I'll be glad when I'm back in a bed."
"I fear that is a long ways off," Dany smiled softly.
Arya nodded, thanking Gendry as he handed her a bowl of hot soup. Dany suppressed a smile as she watched the two of them, the big muscular boy knight and the slight girl who was a highborn lady in disguise. She treated him with a casualness that was almost flippant, and he watched her with adoring eyes. She wondered how long it would take for them to make their way to each other. She couldn't wait to tell Sansa about it.
The weather seemed to grow even colder as their made their way northwest towards the tall Frostfang Mountains. Thankfully there was no wind but the snowfall was ever present, covering everything in more and more layers of icy white. Nymeria was their best scout, as she could scent the White Walkers and sound an alarm before they were seen. She was also their best hunter, bringing down deer and even an elk. They'd been a group of fifty – mostly Night's Watch men, but also a few wildings, a few of Lord Stannis' men, Dany and her ever present Meereen guards, and Gendry and Sansa – when they'd left and they'd already lost nine, with two others severely injured. "That's not bad," Merek grunted. "We've killed more 'o them than they have 'o us, thanks to the dragons." He and a few of the other men soaked arrowheads in fish fat and lit them afire, shooting the White Walkers with them. Fire was their best weapon, and the dragons provided plenty of it. Which was good, because the White Walkers didn't die easily.
Of course, the farther away from the Wall they got, the harder it was to find food. The supplies they'd brought with them were dwindling quickly. Even Nymeria couldn't find any meat for them. They found an old grove of tart apples and winter berries, and picked as many as they could, staying there for a few nights to rest and recover and allow their injured to heal.
"I'm worried," Dany said to Arry and Gendry one afternoon as they sat before the fire. The light was beginning to fade, and the camp was bustling with activity as everyone prepared. "We haven't seen them for three days. I know they're out there."
Arya nodded. "Nymeria smells them," she said. "But they're not attacking. What are they waiting for?"
"Reinforcements," Gendry said grimly. "We've gotten rid of a lot of 'em, so maybe they called for help."
Dany didn't want to admit that she thought the same thing. She shivered inside her heavy cloaks, wondering if she'd ever be warm again. Silly. She'd be warm as soon as she climbed onto Drogon's back. Sailing through the clouds with him she was warm, although she appreciated the cloaks to protect her from the wind.
The dragons had taken to landing around the outskirts of the camp during the days, and she worried that they were doing so because they were hungry. Everyone tended to stay away from them, of course, but still….she worried. She knew they'd been eating the dead – everyone did, although no one talked about it, with Daren still removing their heads as if their bodies were going to remain where they were – but still, she worried it wasn't enough. They hadn't seen much in the way of meat for the last two weeks. Any animal that was still alive was burrowed so deeply into the ground that even Nymeria couldn't dig it out. They'd flown ahead, so she hoped that perhaps they'd found something to eat there, but the fact that every day they landed at the edge of the camp to sleep didn't reassure her. Although the heat they radiated was a help in keeping the injured warm.
As the sun set they picked up swords and lit torches. The archers ensured their quivers were full, the arrowheads drenched in fatty oil. But nothing happened. Usually, as soon as the sun was out of sight the White Walkers would flood out of the surrounding forest but for the fourth night in a row, nothing happened.
"What are they waiting for?" Merek growled.
"Gendry," Arya said quietly. "I'm going to take a nap. Watch my back and wake me if something happens."
"What?" he said, startled.
"Shhhhh!" Arya hissed. "I'm going to sleep. When I sleep, I can see what Nymeria sees. And don't tell anyone about that," she said sharply. "But I need to see what's going on out there. The Queen isn't seeing anything from her dragon's back, but Nymeria is closer to the ground."
He stared at her, then nodded skeptically. She sat on the ground against a wide tree trunk, wrapping her cloak tightly around herself, and pulling her hood down low. Gendry sat at her feet, watching their surroundings warily. Nymeria, seeing her, rose and loped into the forest.
Cold. Nymeria sniffed the air, turning her head from side to side, trying to catch a scent of something other than the men and the dragons. There was blood in the camp, the blood of men who were injured. She tried to stay away from it, it only reminded her of how hungry she was. But she smelled nothing but cold. Except…there. She knew that scent. She moved towards it, running lightly over the ice and snow. She could scent the dead things, beneath the snow, but they weren't moving. Just there. She ran on, running for miles through the trees, the ground lifting and raising as she reached the base of the tall mountains. There. She howled loudly, and the answering call was close, so very close. She ran, faster, slipping and skidding on the frozen ground, howling and listening, running and howling and listening until she was there and he was there and they jumped together, licking each other, rolling in the ice and snow together. She whimpered and he responded, and they stayed together for a long time before turning to return to her pack of humans. They both smelled the dead things, but they weren't moving, just there beneath the snow. And it wasn't as many as before. The sky was beginning to lighten when they walked into the camp.
"Looks like Nymeria found a playmate," Merek grunted with a soft smile. Gendy looked back at Arya, who was awake, watching the two dire wolves with an expression of something like wonder. Slowly, she held out her hand, and the second gray wolf came slowly towards her, sniffing her gently, then nuzzling her hand.
"What did you see?" Gendry asked hesitantly. Quietly.
Arya glanced around as both of the wolves sat beside her. "They're out there, beneath the snow. They're just not moving. But…." She looked at the second wolf sitting beside her. "This is my little brother's wolf," she said slowly, running her hand through his thick fur. She was quiet for a minute, then looked at Gendy. "Want to go scout with me?"
He nodded and they rose, saddling their horses and ambling out of camp. "Don't go too far," Daren called as they passed him. "Last thing we need to have to try to find you two."
"We won't," Gendry assured him, although he had no idea of where they were going, and he had to wonder if Arya did.
They rode silently for almost an hour, the snow falling harder and harder as they followed the two silent wolves. Just as Gendry was about to suggest they head back, Arya stopped at the edge of a clearing. Before them the mountain rose steeply before them, the trees thinning.
"Up there," Arya said, dismounting.
"Up where?" Gendry asked, following her.
"There's a cave," she pointed. "There. See that fire? Someone is waiting for us." She tied Stubborn to a low branch and began the climb.
Gendry squinted into the falling snow. "I don't see nothing," he grumbled, but followed her anyway. He'd promised to keep her safe. Of course, she hadn't promised to keep him safe. "Are you sure you see something?" he asked.
"Yes," she snapped.
A light wind began to blow, filling the air with the fine white powder of freshly fallen snow in addition to the icy cold falling flakes. The snow was so deep here that he could barely get through it, and he could only see the top of Arry's fur lined cloak. "Are you alright?" he called.
"Yes," she replied, but she was panting, he could tell. The ground was getting steeper, and they were clinging to trees to keep from tumbling backwards. Ice cracked beneath their feet as the struggled up the steep incline. In the swirling snow, he saw it. A fire.
His lungs were close to exploding from the cold when they finally made it up to the ledge. A cave. It was a cave. Arya walked inside without thought, pushing her hood back from her face, before Gentry could say a word to stop her. Pulling his sword, he strode in behind her, uncertain of what they would be facing but certainly not expecting the slim, brown haired girl who stood before them, smiling, a flaming torch in her hand.
"Hello, Lady Arya," she said. "Ser." She inclined her head towards Gentry.
"Who are you?" Arya asked suspiciously, pulling her own sword and tossing her cloak over her shoulder. "How do you know my name?"
"I'm Meera of House Reed," she said. "And your brother told me you were coming. I suppose Summer told him," she shrugged, smiling down and the wolves. "And this is your wolf. Nymeria. A pleasure to meet you, my lady," she inclined her head to Nymeria, who sat at her feet.
"How did you get here, Meera of House Reed?" Gendry asked suspiciously.
"My brother and I brought Lord Bran here," she said. "He's waiting for you."
"Why would you bring Bran here?" Arya asked.
"Because this is where the three-eyed crow is," she said patiently, as if it made perfect sense.
"The what?" Arya said.
"The greenseer," Meera smiled. "It's easier to show you than to tell you, my lady," she said.
"Well you might want to get explaining, because I'm not going anywhere until you make sense," Arya snapped impatiently. Then she stiffened, listening, her eyes searching the cave. "Who said that?" she said suspiciously.
Before Gendry could respond, Meera shrugged again. "I would assume Bran, as no one but you heard it."
Arya spun around to Gendry. "Didn't you hear that?" she demanded. "Someone said my name."
Gendry kept his eyes on Meera, but he shook his head.
"Look," Meera said. "You were wise to come in the morning, while the wights are still. But the longer we stay in here, the higher the chance that you'll have to stay the night. I can't bring your horses in which means you'll lose them. So we should start moving."
Arya, come. It sounded like the wind, soft and whispered. "Fine," she said shortly. "Lead the way."
A long while later they left the caves, with Meera and her brother, Jojen, coming with them. The boy was frail and weak and sickly, with eyes that darted everywhere nervously. "Don't worry," Arya assured him. "We still have a few hours at least before the sun sets. We'll make it back in plenty of time." Gendry helped him up onto Stubborn and he clung to Arya's waist, while Meera rode in front of Gendry. They also had a good sized bag of root vegetables, and a few small rabbits that Meera carried awkwardly. Hodor had smiled when he'd brought it to them, then waved goodbye sadly at the mouth of the cave. Bran still needed the big man to be his legs, and so he'd stay.
When they rode into camp they caused a small commotion, bringing people with them, and of course the food. But all of it was quickly put aside as the sun was setting, and Jojen announced firmly that the wights would rise that night. "I don't know why they've been still," he told them. "But I saw it in my dreams. And my dreams are never wrong." His voice held a sadness that Arya couldn't understand but she didn't have time to think about it. Nymeria growled a warning and then they were there, swarming the camp and she was pulling Needle free as Meera guided her brother to a safe place before jumping into the fray herself.
It was hours later when Arya ducked into a nearby cave, pressing herself against the icy stone wall, holding her breath. After long moments, she released it and slid to the floor, breathing heavily. Outside, the sound of battle were beginning to fade, with dragons roaring and spitting streams of fire on the few resilient White Walkers left. But there were fewer now than there'd ever. They were taking heavy losses, but so were the White Walkers. Every battle there were fewer and fewer of them. There'd only been a handful tonight.
Arya pushed to her feet at the sound of someone coming through the dry brush. Whoever it was, they were making no attempt to hide their approach, which lead her to believe it wasn't a White Walker, who were eerily silent.
Daren stumbled into the cave, taking a few shuffling steps before falling. He groaned and pushed himself onto his back as Arya knelt beside him. One look at the pulsing wound at his side told her there was nothing she could do for him.
"Girl," he gasped thickly, as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
"Daren, it's me, Arry," she said softly.
"I know who you are," he wheezed. "Girl. A Stark, from the size of that monsterous wolf of yours." He coughed, and blood poured from his side and bubbled from his lips. He pushed his battle axe towards her. "Find that boy of yours and have him chop off my head. He'll have to do it, from now on," he gasped.
"I can do it," Arya said, resigned. Gendry wouldn't have the stomach for it, she knew.
He smiled a little, his breaths coming in thick, wet, rattles. He didn't have long, she knew. "I don't…..doubt…you could," he said huffed softly, every word visibly an effort. "Only…that you can…..even….lift….the….thing…..it's…heavy…..as….you….." his voice died away, his eyes beginning to flutter closed.
"I'll manage," she promised him. "I won't let you walk again." She turned when she heard a sound, reaching for Needle and standing. When she looked down again, he was still. Resigned, she sheathed Needle and reached for the big axe. He wasn't wrong, she thought. It was at least as heavy as she was. But she managed to lift it, although it brought itself down, clumsily. It took longer than she'd wanted, and was sloppily done. By the time she'd finished, the battle sounds had subsided, and she thought she could see the edge of dawn lightening the far sky.
She jumped when someone stumbled into the cave, dropping the axe and reaching for Needle before she realized it was Dany.
"Oh, there you are," she said breathlessly. "We've been looking for you. Oh," she said when she saw Daren, and what Arya had done.
"I promised him I wouldn't let him walk again," Arya said softly.
Dany nodded, her expression sorrowful. "It was the right thing to do." She couldn't imagine how hard it must have been, it was a gruesome task. "The battle is over. I think we actually got them all this time."
"Where are your guards?" Arya asked. It was strange to see her without at least one of the Meereese soldiers behind her.
Dany shrugged sadly. "I think I've lost them all," she said. "I know that one of them is still alive, but he was badly injured."
Arya nodded slowly, thinking back to the last words Bran had said to her before she'd left. You'll do it. It's no more than you have done, no more than you will do. It will set great things into motion. Don't worry about it, it will all work out. The King's Justice is yours. She'd wondered at that, since she'd already killed Ser Ilyn, but Hodor had walked away, her brother on his back, his useless legs dangling at Hodors sides. She stared at the back of the beautiful blonde woman before her. She'd come to like her, even though she was good friends with Sansa.
Dany moved towards the mouth of the cave, watching Viserion flying north against the thick gray clouds. Like Arya, she could see dawn beginning to brighten the sky. "Hopefully, this is the last of these White Walkers," she said, as she wondered where Drogon and Rhaegal were. "But I still wonder if we should continue North," she said thoughtfully. "They had to come from somewhere. Perhaps we should try to seek out their home. If we could end them completely, it would be worth it." She turned in time to see Arya bringing her sword down forcefully. Gasping, she threw herself to the side, and the sword struck her in the shoulder.
"Sorry," Arya said. "I actually like you. But a deal's a deal." Before Dany could respond, Arya pulled Needle free.
"Arya, wait," she gasped, panicked. But Arya didn't, and Needle struck true. Dany crumpled silently as in the distance, the dragons roared as one.
Grabbing her by the arm, Arya pulled her back into the cave and then eyed the battle axe wearily. But there was no other choice, so she took a deep breath and hefted it up onto her shoulder, staggering a bit at the weight, and got to work.
The dragons roars grew increasingly closer and she eyed the mouth of the cave nervously. Just as she finished, she felt the ground shudder and knew one of them – the big black one, she was certain – had landed nearby. She lifted the axe onto her shoulder, and grabbed a handful of pale blonde hair, moving as fast as she could towards the back of the cave, where she could hear water running. She rounded the corner and skidded to a stop beneath the starry night sky, at the edge of an unexpected waterfall and the rushing stream of water that traveled only a few feet and then tumbled down the side of the mountain. But the cave behind her shuddered at the roar and she felt the heat of the fire and staggered forward, spashing through the knee deep icy water, slipping and skidding on the icy floor and the strong current that tried to push her over the edge along with it. It wasn't all that wide but given how off balance she was from the axe she was soaked by the time she reached the other side, panting and shivering. She couldn't wait, she was out in the open and one of those creatures was bound to fly overhead and see her holding their mother's head. She stopped, considering, and then tossed it into the rushing water, watching as it bobbed along with the water before falling over the edge of the cliff to tumble a hundred feet into the river below. By then she'd turned away and was walking as fast as the additional weight would allow, edging back into another cave and continuing on, hoping it would lead her back to somewhere she was familiar with.
The sun was fully risen by the time she staggered into their camp. Gendry came immediately towards her, taking the axe. She dropped exhaustedly before the fire. She was shivering and sniffling, bone weary, and her feet had gone numb.
"Thought we'd lost you," Merek said with a yawn, passing her a cup that was more water than tea. But it was hot and she sipped it gratefully.
"I ran into a cave and got turned around," she said, stifling her own yawn. "I found Daren and removed his head. Where are the others?" she asked. "I'll have to – " she stopped suddenly when she saw Dany's head, encased in a layer of ice. "What the hell is that doing here?" she breathed.
"Found it floating in the river," one of the men said sorrowfully. "Daren must have got to her before you got to him."
"But why is it here? And where are the dragons?" she eyed the sky nervously.
Merek shrugged. "They all flew away, headin south. Guess they're goin home. We should probably follow. These was the last of 'em."
Arya still stared at the head distastefully. "The last thing she said to me is that we need to continue North. They had to come from somewhere, and we need to find their home and wipe them out for good."
"Without the dragons, I don't think we can," Gendry shrugged. "We're almost out of food, and we're down to only fifteen, not counting the eight wounded. We need to head back. If there are more, they'll think twice about returning."
"I agree," Merek said. "Most of us do. We didn't leave any standing last night. If there are more, it will take them some time to regroup."
"There are more," Meera said quietly. Arya turned at the sound. She hadn't realized the girl was there, but she was, kneeling over the limp and still body of her brother. His face and right side were badly burned. "This is their home. The Children of the Forest created them here, and then lost control of them. They scatter but always return. There are more and they'll be back." She rose, wiping her eyes. "I agree with the others, my lady. We need to head back. Without the dragons, we can't defeat them."
Arya winced at the 'my lady' but no one else seemed to notice. Or perhaps, like Deren, they all realized. But no one mentioned it as they quickly broke down their small camp, and Merek took the job of beheading the dead. She convinced them to leave Dany's head behind. "But she's a Queen," one of the men protested. "Shouldn't we take it back?"
"I think fifteen of us saying we saw it is proof enough," Arya said firmly, especially since her one living guard had seen it, as well.
Arya was asleep on her horse but they headed south. She knew that they were right. They were down to eating the horses of the dead – which was disgusting – and they'd killed all of the White Walkers they'd encountered. But she wasn't convinced that they wouldn't regroup and return, and she intended to tell Jon that.