Chapter 24

Arya

Arya slept for several days straight. With her hands clutched tight around Fendrel's waist atop of his horse, she allowed herself to relax and sleep. Neither she nor Gendry was in danger anymore; although he had lost a large amount of blood, Melisandre's maid, Merida had patched him back together and assured everyone that he would be okay. They rode all day and night, and barely stopped to rest. After searching for her for nearly a month, they were all eager to return to Winterfell.

When Arya finally felt strong enough, she was allowed to ride a horse on her own. The guards had made a carriage of wood and breaches were Gendry lay. Arya knew that if he had been conscious long enough to speak, he would have demanded to be set on a horse instead of being pulled after one like a cripple. She rode behind him, watching him closely where he lay with several layers of fur draped around him. Merida told her he had a fever when they found them, and that he needed to sweat the fever from his body. He seemed better now, though, although he refused to eat or drink. Merida assured her he was in no immediate danger. Arya was not consoled, though. Every time the group stopped to rest, she would crouch down on the ground beside Gendry and beg him to eat something. But he never obeyed.

It was on the second day after their rescue that she realized it had been Jarin and Merida who had saved them that night. Had it not been for them, Gendry and she would have been dead now. Arya felt the need to thank them every time she saw them, but no matter how many times she asked them why, she never got a satisfying answer.

On the fourth day of their journey back to Winterfell, Merida decided that Gendry would not make it back if he did not eat something, but as he was too weak to eat by himself, she cooled some soup and spoon-fed him, much like she had done to Arya back in King Stannis' camp. The blacksmith spat most of the soup out, but the little he ate made a miraculous difference. In a matter of hours, he was able to sit straight and answer a few of the many questions Arya asked him.

"How is your leg?" she asked.

Gendry sighed. "I can hardly feel the pain anymore," he admitted. Arya did not know whether that was a good or bad thing; perhaps he had lost the use of his leg completely? Perhaps he would have to use a chair like Bran did.

Merida kept trying to tempt him with food, but Gendry turned it all away.

"Gendry, you have to eat," she told him and placed a piece of bread in his palm. As soon as the maid was gone, Gendry offered the bread to Arya.

"You stupid, bull-headed man,"Arya spat. "Don't you understand that if you don't eat soon, you will only get worse?"

"Relax, I feel fine," he assured her. Arya crossed her arms and scowled at him.

"How many days has it been since they rescued us?" she asked him. Gendry pursed his lips and looked around thoughtfully.

"Three days?"

"Eat, god dammit. It's been five days, but you've been unconscious most of them. Now, eat before I knock your teeth out!"

Reluctantly, Gendry brought the bread to his mouth and took a bite, groaning from the pain caused by his broken nose. When finished, Arya gave him a pleased smile and rolled out her sleeping fur next to him.

"We'll be home soon," she sighed. "Fendrel said it was only a couple of more days riding, and then we'll be home at Winterfell."

She looked at Gendry, whose face was stiff and dark. "It never really was my home though, was it?"

She could hear the bitterness in his voice, but just as she was about to reply, he was already fast asleep.

Bran

Bran was watching baby Atheena when Luwin entered the nursery, a large smile on his face.

"Robb is returning," he said cheerfully. "He left King's Landing a week ago."

Talla gave a squeal of happiness and gathered the babe into her arms. "Your father is coming to see you, my love. Yes, he is," she sang and kissed the babe's nose. Catelyn turned to maester Luwin.

"And Ned?" she asked. Bran could hear the weariness in her voice.

"Lord Stark remained in the capital I'm afraid."

Catelyn nodded, forcing a smile. "At least one of my men will return soon." She tried to sound happy, but Bran could hear the sadness in her words. "Excuse me," she said and left.

Neither Talla nor the maester seemed to have noticed Lady Catelyn's sudden departure, but was talking eagerly about the babe's progress. As it had been born much too early, it had been very small and fragile, but as the days went by, the child was growing bigger and bigger.

"I think her hair is starting to curl," Talla stated, fingering a lock of her daughter's auburn hair.

"She is beautiful," the maester said with a smile. "Your husband will be very pleased."

Talla looked at him with wide eyes. "Are you sure? What if he's disappointed she's not an heir?"

Bran rolled to her, seizing her hand. "Don't worry, Talla. You will have many more opportunities to honor him with a little lord. Robb will love his daughters as much as his sons, I assure you."

Talla gave him a grateful smile just as Atheena gave a ear-piercing scream. "It's time for her dinner," she said.

Bran nodded and left along with maester Luwin.

"I received another letter as well, my lord. It is from Fendrel."

Bran jerked the letter out of his hand, slightly irritated he had kept it to himself. As he unrolled the piece of paper, his heart throbbed expectantly in his chest.

"What does it say?" Luwin asked.

Bran read through it. Then reread it to make sure he had understood correctly. "They found her," he breathed, reading the letter once more.

"They've got her! Fendrel found Arya!" if he could still use his legs, he would have jumped up and down in excitement. "Maester Luwin, they found her!"

"They found Lady Arya?" Luwin asked, flabbergasted.

"She's safe! She's alive! Call for mother, tell Talla and Rickon!" he was so happy it felt like he was floating as he hurried down the stairs on the special ramp his father had built for him.

"Mother! Rickon!" he yelled as loud as he could. He found Catelyn in the great hall where she was talking to one of the servants.

"Mother, she's been found! Arya's safe, they are on their way home!"

Catelyn stared at him, her mouth ajar. "Arya?" she asked stupidly.

He rolled to her, a great smile on his face. "She's unharmed, mother. Fendrel writes they will return in a matter of days."

Catelyn gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "She's coming back," she sighed, her shoulders shaking. "Arya's coming back!"

Bran could clearly see the tears streaming down his mother's face as she bent down to give him a hug. "Prepare a feast at the night of her return. Invite every person in Winterfell!"

Suddenly, Rickon came through the door, his face red and sweaty. "What is going on? Masetsre Luwin said I had to come at once."

"Your sister is coming back," Catelyn smiled, embracing her youngest son.

Bran thought it best if he where the one to bring the news to Mikken and his wife, and did not wait long before he rolled over the yard and to the forge. As it was impossible for him to get upstairs without help, Bran asked Mikken to fetch his wife as he had news concerning both of them.

Myra's face was draped with misery as she emerged the stairs, staring at him. "Is it about Gendry?" she asked, clutching her hands together. "He's not dead, is he? Please tell me he's not dead." Her pleading voice gave Bran shivers down his spine. Mikken wrapped a protective arm around his wife's waist his face emotionless.

"He's not dead," Bran blurted out, eager to wipe Myra's worry off her face. "As a matter of fact, he's been found."

Myra gave a gasp of joy, embracing her husband tightly. "He's alive, dear!"

Although he tried to remain cool, Mikken could not hide the relief flushing over his face.

"He and my sister will return in a few days," Bran told them with a smile. Myra was so excited she gave him a hug, laughing happily into his ear.

"Thank you, my lord. Thank you so much!"

Catching herself, she pulled away with a flabbergasted face. "I'm sorry-"

"Not to worry, Myra. I can understand your relief. However, there is one thing you ought to know before Gendry's return."

Myra returned to her husband's side, clutching his arm. "Is he hurt?"

"I'm afraid he is – I do not know how severe his wounds are, but if he was in life-danger I know Fendrel would have written so in the letter he sent."

The blacksmith's wife gave a little squeal and brought her hands to her mouth. "I hope you're right, my lord. We are very fond of the boy."

"I am sorry to bring such news to you, but I thought you deserved to hear it from me. There will be a feast on the night of their return – all of Winterfell is invited. However, I do understand if you'd rather spend it with Gendry."

"We appreciate your kindness, my lord," Myra said, her voice shaking slightly.

Bran nodded and left them to their happiness and grief. He wished he had known more about Gendry's injuries, but Fendrel had not told him much. Pleased by knowing that Gendry had a home to return to, Bran went back to the castle to celebrate with his family. They were all waiting patiently for their sorely missed daughter and sister.

Arya

Arya felt her heart leap of joy when she recognized the familiar surroundings; They were getting closer to Winterfell! Fendrel promised they would be there in the morrow if they kept riding throughout the night. No one was more eager to continue than Arya. Despite her sore body and heavy eyelids, she wanted to come home. But the night felt like an eternity and she was certain time was moving backwards.

Gendry was getting stronger and his appetite had improved remarkably since Arya forced him to eat. Fendrel finally let him mount a horse again, as Gendry felt too proud to be lying in a stretcher, dragged through the snow like some infant. Arya was pleased to see that he and Jarin was getting along rather good, much to her surprise. As long as she had known him, Gendry had never really had friends. Except for her, of course. But then again, she didn't have many friends either. Apart from Jeyne Poole, whom only made fun of her, there were rather few girls her age at Winterfell. Those she had known when she was younger, had been sent away to get married.

However, Arya found great company in her new companion, Merida. She was a farmer's daughter from Storm's end and had grown up alongside Jarin. When he was made one of the king's knights, he recommended her as a maid to the king's mistress. Merida, thrilled to live in the castle learned that Melisandre was not only a beautiful woman with red eyes, but a witch. Too afraid to escape, she went with them as they headed for the wall. "I never would have made it without Jarin," Merida confessed. "He gave me courage when I was afraid, and assured me that one day we would put the evil behind us and start a new life together."

Arya smiled. She enjoyed listening to Merida's stories. Her life was so different from Arya's. She had the opportunity to choose her own husband without caring how low-born he was. In some way, Arya envied her; she would rather grow up in a farm, working hard for a living than learn to sew and dance and speak properly. But then again, she wouldn't have gotten the chance to learn from the great dancing master had she been poor, and Winterfell was her home. Winterfell. The thought that by this time tomorrow, she would be sleeping in a bed was thrilling, and a jolt of longing rushed through her. It would have been perfect if only Nymeria had been there to share her bed. But Nymeria was dead, probably eaten by crows, and Arya would never have another wolf dream again.

"Fendrel said we are allowed to stay in Winterfell,"Merida said, throwing her dark hair behind her shoulder. "Is the castle beautiful, my lady?"

Arya nodded, her chest swelling with pride. "You will love it!"

"Is there need for a new maid at the castle? Perhaps I could work for you," Merida suggested with hopeful eyes, but Arya shook her head, earning a disappointed look from her companion.

"You are my friend, Merida. It would not be right for me to give you orders. But perhaps my mother is in need of one. Or Talla – or even the babe when it arrives. Do you like children?"

Merida's lips twisted into a large smile. "I adore them. I have five younger sisters back home, so I do know rather much about babes."

"Don't worry, Merida. I will make sure to find a suitable position for you."

"And Jarin? He said he wished to be a guard to your lord father."

Arya smiled, pleased to know that her knew friends were planning on staying in Winterfell, at least for a little while. "He will be, I swear."

"If it's not too bold to say, my lady, Gendry is a very brave and kind man."

Arya nodded. "Indeed he is."

"But as I understand it, you are betrothed to another?" Merida's dark eyes met Arya's gray. Biting her lip, Arya nodded reluctantly.

"But I refuse to marry him. That is why I left Winterfell to begin with."

"You would rather marry the smith then?" Merida asked earnestly. Arya looked down at her hands, hesitating. Although every bone in her body knew that her family would be very displeased with her if she did decide to marry beneath her kin, it was Gendry she wanted.

"Yes," she admitted with a whisper.

Merida leaned over the gap between their horses and gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze. "I understand disappointing your family must be difficult, but living without love seems even worse, don't you agree?"

Arya forced a smile. "Perhaps I won't have to disappoint my family after all. If what the witch said is true Gendry is the rightful heir to the throne."

"I did not realize you wanted to become a queen, my lady."

Arya snorted. "Nor do I; the only thing worse than being a lady, is being a queen. I am just saying that how can my parents disapprove of someone with royal blood?"

Merida smiled widely. "You are very clever, my lady."

"Please, do not call me 'my lady'. I am no more a lady than you are, Merida. As a matter of fact, I believe you would make a better lady than I ever did."

"It is in your blood, Arya. You cannot deny who you are. Yes, you can hide, but in the end, you must embrace who you are and make the best out of it."

Arya sighed. Merida was right; she was a lady of Winterfell, not a knight. It was her duty to marry a lord and rule a castle. But Arya was not one to follow directions. She refused to be bossed around by anyone, including her lady mother. She would marry Gendry, with or without Catelyn's approval.