A/N: Oh wow, this is the longest thing I've written in a long time! Sorry if it's a little confusing at times, but it was a lot to fit into one chapter. But, enjoy!

Arya

The sword flashed through the air, hitting the invisible targets. Even after all the years she could still see their faces in her mind, not matter how hard she tried to forget them, just kept coming back. 'I'm no one!' she wanted to shout, over and over again, just to convince herself. 'I have to be no one.' She let the wooden practise sword fall to the floor with a thud as she closed her eyes tight, trying to get rid of the faces swimming in front of her eyes. Not all of them were faces of the people she hated, somewhere of the people she had lost, the people she had left. Before she could dwell on the past and the people in it, the door to her left opened slowly.

"There is someone who wishes to speak with you." The kindly old mad said his eyes never leaving her face.

"Who is it?" She asked, it made no difference who the person was, she didn't want to see anybody.

"Here she is known as the Mother of Dragons, though I believe you would know her better as Daenerys Targaryen, she claims to be the rightful queen of Westeros."

"Many people claim to be king and queen of Westeros. Why does she wish to speak with me?" She asked her mind already racing as it tried to sort out the possibilities. She's the last dragon, she thought as she remembered the rumours, the last dragon with dragons.

"She wants your help." He said simply.

"My help? What help could I possibly offer her?"

"She needs someone who knows the lands of Westeros. Someone who knows the people. You are the only person here that can help her with that."

She stayed silent as she bent to pick up the sword where she'd let it fall. She'd take me back. But do I want to go back?

"What do I get for helping her?" It wasn't what she really wanted to know, it's not like there was anything this Queen could give her. She couldn't bring back the dead.

"Have you heard the latest talk from the ships child?" he asked changing the subject. She shook her head. "They say a bastard on the Wall was legitimized by a brother King. They say that two young sons thought to be dead have been spotted alive. You left believe you were alone, did you not? Now I tell you, you are not alone, nor where you ever. I cannot tell you what to do, but I would tell you this. Talk with this Queen Daenerys, there may be something she can offer you yet."

She let his words sink in. I'm not alone. It was a strange thought after believing to be alone for so long. They're alive, Jon is alive. I could go home. That was an even stranger thought. She didn't even know where home was anymore. It had once been the North, in Winterfell, but no. That was Arya Starks home. I'm not Arya Stark. I haven't been Arya Stark in 6 years. But why did the name, the place, make something stir inside her? Make her feel happy and full of warmth, a feeling she hadn't experienced in years.

"She is the White Room. If of course, you wish to see her." With his last words he left the room again. Leaving her by herself, with her thoughts. It would be stupid to go see her. She would never take me to the North¸ not while her fight was in the South. But yet she found herself slipping out the door and walking towards the White Room, still saying it would be stupid.

The door in front of her was bigger the most in the place and not matter how many times she pushed it open, she would always be shocked at how light it was. Daenerys Targaryen was sat at the table in the centre of the room, her back towards her and she looked out the window. When she heard to door open, her head turned to look at her.

"Yours Grace, you...wished to speak with me?" it came out sounded like a question. Letting the door shut behind her, she walked towards the Queen, bowing as she'd been taught all those years ago.

"You are from my country. From Westeros. Oh please raise." Daenerys said smiling down at the girl. She stood up straightening her back, before nodding at her slowly.

"Yes..."

"I am looking for someone to help me take back the seven kingdoms. Someone that can help me with the land, with the people. I do not know this place, not truly, and I fear I do not know who would be best to trust. Though I also fear you will also not know that. But I shall not ask more from you then to help me build a route, a...a plan for marching. Of where to go, where not to go. In return, when I take back the Iron Throne, I shall give you whatever you ask as long as it is in my power."

She spoke with such power, such surety in her voice; it was hard to doubt her. She would take back the Iron Throne if she could only get there and be rid of the Lanisters, though if she knew the Lanisters where her threat, she did not know.

"Unless you can return the dead, I do not think there is anything you can offer me. But...but I shall help you. I cannot promise you what I say is the truth, for I don't know the whole of the land, but if you can promise to take me home, to give me back my home again, I shall promise to do all in my power to help you."

"May I ask, what is your name? I girl who speaks with such...authority in her voice must come from somewhere that commands authority. Where is your home?"

She didn't answer. There were many names she could give her. Arry, Weasel, Nan, Salty. But none of the where her. Who am I now? She needed to give her some name, any name, but none of the fake ones seemed to fit her anymore. Faces flashed before her eyes. Her father, her mother, Robb, Jon, Sansa, Bran, Rickon and Gendry. Always with her families' faces could she find his. Winterfell, a voice seemed to whisper in her ear, home. And then she knew what name to give the Queen of Dragons.

"I am Arya Stark of Winterfell." The name fell easily from her tongue, the name she hadn't used in years, and it was the one most right. "My home is the North, the Northernmen are my people and if you wish for help Your Grace, I shall give you the help of the North, but only if you swear to give the North to the Starks."

"If you can help me win back my kingdoms and my throne, I swear I shall give your family the North again, as long as it is sworn that the North and the Iron Throne rule as one." Daenerys said a slight smile on her face, her mind already working. "We sail within the hour. In 3 days we shall be in Westeros."

"I shall meet you at the docks as soon as I have collected my things, if it pleases Your Grace." Arya said her courtesies rusty from little use. Sansa would know the correct way to speak and act. It was as though once she'd allowed herself to remember her name, everything else came back. I shall find you again sister.

Arya found the ship easily enough, or in truth she found the ships easily enough. Daenerys had a how fleet of war ships, each filled with fighters and freed slaves. The tales of her are true then, she thought walking towards the ship clearly for the Queen. She found her in her cabin surrounded by tall men, some dark skinned, some light, all peering down at a map of Westeros.

"Another little slave you've freed, Khaleesi?" One asked laughing.

"I am no slave ser. I am Arya Stark of Winterfell, and I'm the only one here who can help you read that map." She replied. It shocked her how offend she was of being called a slave.

"Gentlemen, this is the person I went seeking today. Lady Stark here as agreed to help us, to help me." Daenerys said waving Arya forward to the table.

"Oh really? And what can this little Lady offer us other than being able to read a map? Ser Mormont can read it just as well."

"I can offer you the entire force of the North. Or what's left of it. But the North has a debt to pay the Lions, and I feel sure they will wish to pay it back with blood." Arya said, not liking the way the man kept looking at her as though she was below him. I have more authority and land then you could ever wish to have, she wanted to shout.

"Lady Stark, if you would like to show us where you think our best route could be."

"I'm not Lady Stark. My mother was Lady Stark and my sister, but not me." She muttered more to herself then the Khaleesi. None the less she stepped towards the map, following the twists and turns of the roads and rivers. Places jumped out at her, places she had been, places she'd tried to reach but never had.

"You said we would be making port in 3 days hence, I suggest we dock at Gulltown, here-" she pointed on the place just below the mountains of the Eyrie, carrying on before anyone could contradict her- "If we dock anywhere else, the Lanisters will hear about it in Kings landing straight away, here we buy some times as they send word straight to the Eyrie, where, if all reports are true, which I believe they are, my sister is ruling. If you can win the support of the Vale as well, you will gain more men. From there we go North, to the Twins, taking back any Northernmen still held there and on to Moat Cailin and rid them of any remaining Ironborn. After that, I go to Winterfell to call what's left of my father and brother's banner men and people." She paused, her finger pointing at Winterfell, to make sure they were all keeping up. "Once the Northernmen are joined, we march South and split at the Twins. Half go on the Casterly Rock and the rest on the Kings Landing. If you trap the Lion in its cage, it's not going to be able to run."

The cabin was silent when she finished speaking. Somewhere staring at her, their mouths hanging open slightly in shock while others still looked at the map lost in thought. Arya stood there awkwardly; proud of putting them all the silence but also wishing one of them would say something.

"You make me wonder if you have an eye for a battle plan as well. Much like your father, and much like your brother going by his record of never losing a battle." A man said from the next to Daenerys. He was tall, and dressed in fine armour and going by the way he spoke she knew he was from Westeros. Though it took her a while to place his face.

"Ser Barristan Selmy? " She asked not truly believing the form Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was here. He inclined his head slightly in response.

"I must ask what your thoughts are on the opposing side from Stannis Baratheon? He's not likely to yield, and with Robert leaving no true born heirs and Cersei having had all his bastards killed, and Stannis having Renly killed, he is the last Baratheon and will stake his claim on Storms end and the Throne." Barristan said his eyes not leaving Arya face, like he was judging her thoughts.

"Not all Roberts's bastards are dead. There's one left, I know him. And he won't stake a claim on the throne, hell he won't even really be interested in Storms end, but he's Roberts's son and if he was legitimized, he'd be able to claim the lands and Stannis wouldn't be able to say anything." Arya said. She wasn't sure when she'd worked it out, but suddenly it made complete sense about who Gendry's father was.

"Then so be it. I shall write the letter in mine own hands to legitimize Robert Baratheon's son. Arya, if you would be so kind as to write a letter to the Eyrie. If it is indeed your sister ruling there, it would do well for us to give her some warning of our arrival and if it is not, it will still do well for our arrival to the known there." Daenerys said, standing up from her chair and re-sitting down behind a desk.

"Yes Your Grace." Arya said bowing a little. "And if I may ask, I would like to be the one to give Gendry the letter of his legitimization."

"Certainly." She said not even looking up from the paper.

Arya took that as her sign to leave, which she took gladly. Taking sheet of parchment and something to write with, she left the cabin. The wind hit her face and the smell of the salt in the sea brought a smile to her face. She'd never been overly fond of boats, but she found herself loving this one, even if it was just because of its destination. Finding a dry spot she sat down, placing the ink next to her and parchment in front of her. Home. She started to write the letter.

Dear Sansa,

...