Thank you so much for you kind reviews, you're really givining me some good ideas:)
i hope you like it so far, I still don't know what's gonna be Arya's coice though...
Arya
She was a dragon, flying high above the clouds. She was fire and power and majesty, she was the ruler of the earth and sky. She knew no fear, only wrath. The human on her back was anxious, she could feel his fear, and he bade her to make haste. She snorted her disgust. Why should she hurry, she was magnificence, perfection, the man should bask in her glory as long as he can. She could feel her skin sizzling, burning up. She spotted the human's dwelling up ahead. Arms engulfed her and a familiar voice whispered to her, hold on,Arya. Hold on.
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Jon had her father's eyes, her eyes, and he looked at her with amusement as she ranted about Sansa. "You know she's right, when you wed you are expected to dance with your lord husband", he laughed when she kicked his leg. "I will not marry. I will be a lord of a castle, or a knight of the kingsguard. I would rather be a pirate, than be a stupid lady. Worrying about dresses and needlework all day!" she crossed her arms on her chest and puffed at him angrily. Jon just laughed and hugged her tight. "Don't ever change little sister". Arya, Can you hear me?
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She could hear his footsteps behind her, could sense him standing behind her. She didn't mind not seeing with her eyes anymore. She was seeing with the rest of her senses. She knew he was short and had a full figure, because of the sound of his footsteps. She knew he wasn't young because of the smell of decay. He talked to her and she knew he had a mustache, because of the way he pronounces certain words. She turned to him swiftly, and dropped down to avoid his blows. Yes, she was seeing very clearly without the use of her eyes. This will be the first skill she will acquire as a faceless man. I fear she may not survive this. And if she will, she might never be the same as she was
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She could smell the fear of her prey. It was near, behind that bush, and she was hungry. She hadn't eaten much in the last few days. Not since the humans down at the foot of the mountain. But as she moved up the mountains the woods got thinner, and so did the prey. She was alone. She encountered some of her little cousins here, but what she wanted most of all was her brothers, she could still sense them and see them in her dreams but she has nearly forgotten their scent. She leapt on the bush and seized the hare in her strong jaws. The blood was warm and sleek in her mouth. Blue eyes stared at her from the darkness, calling her to them. She was very hot all of the sudden. She bared her teeth at them. Come back, please. Don't leave me again
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She was running through the glass gardens, it was always hot there and she wanted to feel the snow on her face, so she pushed herself to go faster and in a minute she was out in the open again, her little brother still at her heels. "Arya", he called, out of breath, "come back here, give it back!" she clenched his wooden sword tighter in her hand and laughed. The flakes of the summer snow melting in her mouth, and in her hair. She ran to the godswood, she could climb one of the trees there and be out of sight. Bran was starting to fall back; she looked back at him laughing, and bumped into something. She looked up angrily at the disturber and saw Robb grinning wildly at her. "Move!" she growled at him and he stood aside just to reveal their father by the lake's side, polishing ice and sighing, with a little hidden smile on his kind face. You are the prince, you have duties, and you cannot dwell here any longer. Those traitors need to be put to death, even without the king's justice.
The crowd's calls were ringing in her ears. "Don't look! Don't look!" the smelly man yelled at her. Her father great sword rose up in the air and her head was turned to the man's belly. It smelled like sweat and rot and death. The crowd was screaming loudly but all she could hear was her sisters desperate calls "No, stop him!" She closed her eyes and thought of summer snows, and her father's laughter. She thought of Winterfell and of Jon's last hug. The crowd cheered and cried foul things, she heard dogs bark.
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The hound was smiling his horrifying smile at her; his voice was rough and hard as an iron rasp. "it's going to be me who hands you over to that mother of yours, so stop your whimpering and snapping at me!"
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She was sick, very sick. She could barley move her legs. Her eyes were sticky and she could hardly open them. She wasn't so hot anymore though, and she could move her head and the room smelled like home. She could hear the boys playing outside; she couldn't wait to join them. She saw old maester Luwin leave the room, and her mother was again at her side. Her long beautiful auburn hair was loose, she sat on a wooden chair by her side, humming quietly and making perfect stitches on a piece of cloth. It was a wolf, she could see. She was making a shirt for Bran. Her mother was heavy with child. "This should be Rickon", she whispered to herself. She didn't even remember how Rickon looked like. Her mother turned to look at her and smiled a perfect smile. She was so beautiful. "I thought to call him Robb if it's a boy and Arya if it's a girl. But since you seem to be very much alive, maybe Catelyn. What do you think?" her mother said in a voice that was not her own. Arya looked around her. No, this was not Winterfell, and this was not her mother, and she was not seven years old. The fight on the mountain's foot came back to her mind. She looked at the woman by her side." Sansa", she said sadly. It was just a dream.
"Well don't sound too excited" her sister told her with a small smile. "Here, eat this. Vymar says it'll make you stronger. You made us all very worried". Sansa gave her a greenish-brown broth that smelled very like pig shit. Arya twisted her face in disgust but her sister gave her the look their mother used to give her, so she took a deep breath and swallowed the disgusting liquid. It tasted like pig shit too. She coughed a little but felt better nonetheless. She decided she should stand up. It was harder than she thought it would be. "How long was I out?" she asked her sister, struggling to get on her feet. Sansa got up and gave her a hand, "six days. We didn't think you'll survive. You had so many injuries, and you had burns from riding the dragon too. Here, lean on me. Try to stretch your legs. Can you stand", Arya could stand, but she didn't know if she could walk. She had so many bandages all over her, and her right leg was throbbing with pain. "Just hold on to this chair while I call for a bath for you, and maybe something to eat, I'll be right back" and Sansa was gone.
She was left alone in the big room. She looked around her, this is Sansa's room. She could see that it was decorated as it was in Winterfell. The linen on the bed was smooth green silk. She had a little desk with small dolls on it. There was a huge mirror and an even bigger closet, probably full with a million dresses, fit for the Lady of the Eyrie. Yes, Sansa was an Arryn now. Yet Sansa had never been a proud Stark, she always dremt about getting married to some handsome knight. She wanted to marry Joffrey, she admired Cereci, she married Tyrion Lannister… she didn't even have a direwolf. Sansa was never part of the pack, she changed her skin and loyalty, she just stood there when they killed their father. And she was left all alone to deal with it. The room had a small terrace, and Arya headed over there, to breathe some fresh air and get the evil thoughts out of her mind. She waddled her way leaning in the walls, when something caught her eye. On a window sill, hidden in the corner, she saw a little wooden figurine of a direwolf, standing on a rock and howling. On the base the words "Winter is Coming" were curved, it was perfect. So there was a little Stark left in her sister. This doesn't mean anything, you still can't trust her. Trust no one, and you'll live.