The next morning as Arya collected Sandor's things from the tailor, she was so deep in her memories of Gendry's warm arms that the voice from behind surprised her. "A girl is to be married. Yet, a girl is no one. How can no one be married?"

"Jaqen!" His face was different, but she recognized him all the same.

"A girl prefers to serve a husband than to serve the Red God?"

"It's not like that. I have duties, family duties."

"Just so. A girl has other duties, too, to the Red God and to herself. It is easy to change a face, change a name, to become no one. Not so easy to change back. Still, it is not for a man to tell a girl what must be done."

"I just can't. Not right now."

"Is a girl in love?"

"I am."

He was disappointed. "Then, a girl still has more courage than sense. The Guild has decided to release a girl from service, but if woman should ever decide to return, a woman is always welcome at the House of Black and White. Until then, this man has the honor of being a friend. Valar morghulis."

"Valar dohaeris." She rode to Sansa's house feeling the weight of her loss mixed fear and freedom. When she arrived, she found Sandor in the stable with Stranger, pulling wilted yellow roses from the horse's mane. She tossed the pack of new clothes to him. "Any progress?"

"Progress?"

"With Sansa? My sister. The one with the red hair."

"She's agreed to marry me."

"Already? What'd you do to her to make her accept so quickly?" She suggested naughtily.

"That's none of your business." He growled.

"So, you did do something to her. Hmm. Referenced a page of two from Love in Essos, I gather." She grinned.

"How'd you know about the book?" His question was more angry than curious.

"It's my book." She asserted.

"No. How did you know that I had it?" He walked toward her.

She was caught. "Well, Kellan isn't exactly a sellsword." His face was menacing as she explained. "He's a friend from the Brotherhood. . . ."

Sandor's mind flashed back to the cave and the brewhouse. His eyes grew with recognition.

"His real name is Gendry, and now that my mother is leading the Brotherhood . . . ."

He interrupted. "Your mother is dead, girl."

"Not exactly. I mean she was dead, but Beric Dondarrion . . . ."

He grabbed her and shook her. "What do you mean she's not dead? Does Sansa know?"

"No. I didn't want to shock her. My mother's condition is . . . difficult to describe, especially to someone who hasn't seen Beric. She looks ghastly and is greatly changed. But, we can't afford to wait a moon's turn to get you married. So, I will have to tell her, today."

"What's the rush with this wedding?" He eyed her suspiciously.

She couldn't tell him about the Ghost of High Heart's prophecy or the news from the South about Cersei's Robert Strong. So, she answered what she could. "There is a greater plan. First, you have to get your money from the Lannisters, because I fear they won't give it to you when they find out that you've wed a Stark and you're taking it to the North. The North has an alliance with Stannis, who is going to legitimize one of King Robert's bastard sons, and he happens to be Gendry. After that, we're to be married."

"And then?"

She hesitated. Gendry hadn't been smart enough to ask further. "My grandfather and uncle were killed by the Targaryens. So, we can't see the Dragon Queen can't sit the throne. The Greyjoys are traitors. My mother has sworn revenge on the Freys and the Lannisters, and Stannis had agreed to an alliance to exterminate them all. Stannis will sit the Iron throne, and the Starks will rule the North."

"Even Myrcella and Tommen?" Sandor looked disgusted.

"Gods, no! My father didn't believe in killing children."

He was relieved, but he thought to ask the question no one else had. "And when Stannis dies?"

She was nervous, never saying it aloud before, but thinking on it since Stannis suggested it. "It is possible, merely possible, that Stannis will name Gendry as his successor. I would be the Queen in the South while Sansa would be the Queen in the North."

"You're talking madness, girl!" Overwhelmed, he stopped asking questions.

"I hope I am. That would be many years and battles away. In the meantime, there is much work to be done. My Mother needs my sister to come home, and my sister needs your protection more than ever."

"I'm going with you to tell her about your Lady mother. She won't take it lightly. Say it gently, girl."

They found Sansa at her writing desk, and with as much enthusiasm as she could muster in her nervousness, Arya said, "Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Arya." Sansa reached for Sandor's hand as he moved to her side protectively.

"A moon's turn is too long for a betrothal in light of some information that I haven't shared with you." Sansa's questioning look forced Arya to continue. "Our mother is a . . . ."

Sandor gave Arya a look of warning.

"Is? Not was? What about our mother Arya? Is she alive?"

"Sort of."

Sansa rose from the chair. "What do you mean sort of? Is she in a long sleep like Bran was?"

"No. She died, but has returned from death with some injuries."

"You're making no sense!"

"You'll have to see her for yourself if you want to understand, Sansa. Some magic of sorts restored her, but she is changed, wounded and bent on revenge, and she needs desperately to see you."

"I must go to her!"

"You will. Your wedding cloaks will be ready tomorrow. The wedding will be the day after that. Find a Septon, and pack your things. We leave Lorath the day after the wedding. I need some sleep. I was awake all night."

Arya left the couple alone, and Sansa turned to future husband. "Is it possible?" She asked.

"Yes." He wouldn't ruin her excitement. She'd see her mother for herself soon enough.

She turned into his arms, crying. After her sobs turned quieter, he led her to the bed. He hadn't slept well during the night and assumed she hadn't either. She motioned for him to join her, and laid her head on his chest, quickly falling asleep. He stared at her ceiling, imagining. The thoughts began as doubts. Robert's arrogant bastard on the Iron Throne with the wolf-bitch at his side calling the shots, and me, married to the Queen in the North! The day will never come. His mind took him back to the Blackwater, to Stannis's army. Stannis with the North behind him? He could succeed. And finally as he drifted: my little bird could be a queen without having to marry a King. I can protect a queen.