A/N: OK so I was going to post a Sansa catch up chapter next but I got stuck and because this one is ready I thought I'd post it first. After this I plan to write POV chapters from a few neglected characters. Sansa and Jon will be definites plus I'm planning a chapter from Winterfell but I'm not sure which POV I'll choose for that yet. I'm also considering a Cersei chapter before returning to Arya and finishing a chapter I'm a little excited about writing (sorry, no hints on content).

Chapter 51

Arya had not been certain of the next move after they had left Moat Cailin to march to the Twins. She had been too intent on making sure the Freys faced Northern justice, too intent on making sure that none who were involved in the Red Wedding escaped. The release of the prisoners from the wedding guided the next decision. Brynden Blackfish advised her that those from the Riverlands must be allowed to return to their Houses.

She knew it was also about more than that. Arya knew her uncle had been speaking with Aegon. He came away from each conversation in better spirits, even to the point where Arya had heard him laughing with the Prince. Her uncle wanted the Riverlands reclaimed from the Lannisters. The Western army may have retreated but they still had a hold. Aegon had clearly charmed her uncle and his army combined with the North would do the rest.

The Freys who had been spared would remain at the Twins under close watch. Arya suspected it would not long remain the seat of House Frey but nobody had the desire for the Freys to join them on the march. There was nowhere else to put them so they had to be left.

Arya's head was filled with unpleasant thoughts following the sentencing. It may have been years but she had recognised Tom immediately. It helped that he had greeted her as though he knew her and he still carried his woodharp with him. She had to try and put him out of her mind while she dealt with the Freys. Once she finished with them she had not wanted to speak with anybody. She had retreated to her pavilion. She did not get to speak with Tom until the following day.

He had found his way into the camp of the Northern army. Arya heard him playing on his woodharp. He took a knee when he saw her and she could not tell whether he was mocking her or not. She managed to pull him aside by making japes with the men over whether or not the singer could play the songs she knew. The men japed back that even she should not know the songs she knew. As soon as they were alone she dropped all pretence at japing.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

Tom chuckled. "So the little queen does know me after all?"

Arya scowled. "Tell me".

He plucked a string on the harp. "Mayhaps I was looking for some inspiration for a song. Mayhaps I'll write one about the dragon prince and his fondness for the wolf queen".

Arya kept her face still. "Mayhaps I'll slit your throat and you won't get to make up any more songs".

Tom put on a mock wounded expression. "Is that any way to treat an old friend?" He chuckled again. "There was a time I would not have thought you capable". He eyed her dagger. "While you were dead it seems you learned some things".

Arya huffed impatiently. "I was not dead and you still have not answered me".

Tom became more serious. "I would have thought it obvious. I came to see some Freys die".

Arya relaxed a little. "I heard the brotherhood was killing Freys".

"We are" Tom confirmed. "We looked for you".

Arya sighed. "I thought you might". Her eyes narrowed. "You were never going to get your ransom".

"That don't matter now" Tom replied.

Arya had so many thoughts going through her head. There were questions she wanted to ask but she couldn't without revealing weakness and Arya would not have him see her as weak. She suddenly realised he was studying her.

"You still don't dress like a girl".

"I don't want to dress like a girl" Arya retorted. "Nobody can make me now".

"Ah but they do make you wear the crown, Your Grace"

Arya touched the circlet, feeling self conscious. She changed the subject, trying to pick her words carefully. "You weren't just killing Freys. What do you want with Aegon and his men?"

Tom plucked a couple more notes. "A singer has to make a living. The prince likes my singing".

Arya scowled again. "He trusts too easily".

"He does" Tom said calmly. "He sings rather well himself. Has he sung for you?"

Arya refused to let him bait her. "Songs are stupid".

Tom laughed. "So you haven't let anybody sing you out of your smallclothes yet? By the sounds of it plenty would like to"

Arya gave him a cold stare. Aegon had said something similar. She had not believed him but she was now finding it to be true. She gave up on questioning Tom. He was not going to tell her anything, not now anyway.

Aegon had become distant after the sentencing. She had the sense he was avoiding her and when she crossed paths with Duck she knew something was wrong. When he told her what had been said she quickly excused herself. It confirmed something which had worried her from the start. There was a reason she did not tell people about the House of Black and White. She had made sure not to tell Jon and Rickon. Aegon only knew because she had no choice but to tell him given how they had met. Nobody could want me knowing what I have done.

Aegon was not supposed to want her. He was not supposed to love her. Every time he said it she wanted to tell him to stop. He was meant for Daenerys, not her but he would not hear it. The sentencing changed things. She had seen how he looked at her after the Blackfish left them alone together. He does not want me anymore. He had still tried to protest just before he left but she could see things had changed.

The effect on others, however, was the opposite. Arya could not go near the castle or anywhere where Aegon's men were present without being looked at with something more than intense interest. The sellswords were the worst. It had not bothered them seeing her kill. If anything it seemed to attract them. She heard her uncle and the Glovers trying to turn them away from her pavilion. She tried to be courteous to those who managed to get inside so as not to make enemies though she usually ended up becoming blunt. Fortunately Nymeria was enough to put them off. She had always bared her fangs at anybody who showed too much interest apart from Aegon.

Arya could not wait to leave the Twins. She joined in the final war councils before leaving. She was given equal involvement in the planning of the march. Connington in particular conferred with her which made her feel grateful because his confidence brushed off on others. They were to find their way to the Kingsroad to minimise the number of river crossings needed and to speed their journey. The Blackfish had already advised her of the options, nothing discussed in the meeting was really new.

The march felt different this time. It was strange being part of a host made up of two armies. There had been a heated discussion as to who would march where in the column. In the end, despite Arya's initial protests to her advisors, it was decided that she should be in the centre just as Aegon was. She knew it made sense, the leader had to be protected even though she felt she could look after herself. The rest of her bannermen took their similar positions to the usual formation only interspersed amongst Aegon's forces.

Arya rode with her personal guard so did not have too much contact with Aegon. When they did get close she tried not to look at him, instead focusing on her companions. Olyvar Frey had pleaded to prove himself so despite others doubting him, Arya had allowed him to ride with her. The She-Bear also stayed close, as did the Skagosi. Asha Greyjoy had also begun to stick close by. Duck had rejoined Aegon but when he could he spoke with her still, veering off from the rest of Aegon's guard whenever he was given leave to jape with her and talk of shared experiences.

They endured snowfall when they first set out but made good progress once they reached the Kingsroad. Arya felt stifled in the large host. She had little enough freedom to move in the Northern army, it was worse now that she was trapped between two armies. She still insisted on flaughting the rules sometimes to ride ahead, her guards desperately trying to keep up with her. She liked to feel the wind on her face and blowing through her hair. Her uncle would lecture her when they made camp for the night. He was in charge of the outriders but he always heard about her antics. Aegon passed the entrance to the pavilion once in the middle of one of these lectures and although there was distance between them still she could see amusement glinting in his violet eyes. She began to smile and saw his lips begin to curve too then he abruptly disappeared from view.

They had just passed the Ruby Ford before she had any real contact with him. The Blackfish, the Northmen and the freed prisoners from the wedding became more jovial as they neared the Riverlands. Talk of the outlaws had increased and Arya shared knowing looks with Tom when he ventured into the camp to sing. Aegon for once was not in high spirits. Even with the limited contact Arya was having with him it had been impossible to miss the strain in his face as they passed the location where his father had been killed. If things had not changed between them, Arya would have gone to him. Instead she stayed close to her own men, thinking of all those who had been lost.

She was sitting in her pavilion with a cup of their now very scarce wine when she heard a scuffle at the entrance. She assumed Nymeria was hunting but as the flap of the tent was wrenched back and Aegon entered the direwolf was by his side. She knew the moment she looked at his face that something was wrong.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

He flinched and she hated herself for how blunt she sounded. It did not deter him though. He remained standing in front of her, his fists clenched and grief in his features.

"I have been told somebody tried to kill you in Winterfell".

Arya kept her face neutral, cursing inwardly. It had been too much to hope for that he would not find out.

"Why did you not tell me?" he demanded.

Because I knew you would take it badly.

"It does not concern you" she said abruptly.

He ripped his fingers through his hair. It was a gesture she knew well. He was struggling to keep his temper in check.

"Damn it Arya, I had a right to know".

She bit her lip then quickly stopped. "No you did not". She picked up the cup and looked into it so that she wouldn't have to look at him.

"Arya!"

"Keep your voice down" she hissed, looking up at him.

He was pacing and muttering. She heard him listing those he had lost and cracking his knuckles. He stopped still and she saw that his violet eyes had a wild look in them. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the table.

"How can you say that to me? How could you keep this from me? You could have died!"

"Valar Morg-"

Before she could finish he snatched the cup from her hand and hurled it against the wall of the tent.

"No" he shouted, looking anguished. "You don't get to say that, not about this and not here".

Arya leapt to her feet. She was not afraid of him. She knew he would not hurt her but he was going to bring her men running. She stepped around the table and put her hands on his shoulders. He was shaking.

"Calm down Aegon"

He shook his head. "I want him dead" he spat.

Arya was confused for a moment. He means the boy.

"He took the black".

"I want him dead" Aegon said more forcefully. He grabbed hold of her waist and rested his forehead against hers. "You did not spare the Freys, I do not understand".

"They did not ask to take the black" she whispered.

Aegon shook his head again. "If I had been there I would have killed him". He gripped her more tightly and kissed her with a passion that was almost violent. Arya almost pushed him away, almost. She was used to men trying to treat her roughly but not Aegon. He must have sensed her resistance because his grip loosened. He touched her face gently and brushed his lips against hers tenderly, prompting her to try and seek more before he abruptly broke the kiss and rested his head against her neck. She felt him sob and put her arms around him, rubbing his back.

"You would have spared him too" she whispered. "You have more mercy than I have".

He shook his head yet again. "I should not have said you were cold" he said hoarsely.

He buried his face in her hair and Arya held him. She heard him plead with her not to send him away and she didn't answer. His breathing had calmed but he was still trembling.

"I know it must be hard for you here" she said softly.

His voice was muffled by her hair when he responded. "I keep picturing how he died".

She held him a little longer before she heard the rustle of the tent flap and they quickly separated. Arya dropped into her seat again, quickly trying to tidy her hair and hoping her lips didn't look too bruised. She schooled her face but she saw that Aegon still looked flustered as her uncle appeared before them. He looked at Aegon then his eyes went to the spilled wine and the cup on the ground.

"The men heard shouting".

"I apologise" Arya said quickly, relieved her voice sounded calm. "I lost my temper and threw my wine cup. Prince Aegon was scolding me for it".

Her uncle looked at her suspiciously. Aegon looked both grateful and guilty. It is a good thing I have learned to lie well.

"You should not waste good wine Arya" he finally said in a teasing tone, a smile crinkling the corners of his Tully blue eyes. "We have little enough of it".

"I should go" Aegon said quickly, inclining his head respectfully as he fled.

The Blackfish watched him go then turned to her, looking shrewd. "I feel sorry for him".

Arya tensed. "Do you?"

He laughed. "Don't treat me as though I'm stupid. I know what he wants and throwing wine at him is a poor response".

Arya tried not to let her confusion show.

"He wants your hand" Ser Brynden said. "As I say I'm not stupid. No prince would just give up half the realm so easily unless it was true". He took her hand. "How many times has he asked child?"

Arya felt a mix of relief and guilt course through her. "I've lost count" she admitted.

"You refused him" her uncle looked perturbed. "Why?"

"I can't marry" Arya whispered.

"You're mad Arya" he shook his head. "Does he offend you in some way?"

Arya looked down at her hands. "No".

The Blackfish cupped her face gently. "Why then? You seem to care for him".

Arya thought of her list. She couldn't tell her uncle about it. She shook her head. "There is another. His Aunt. I keep trying to tell people and they won't listen. She has dragons. Aegon is her rival if they don't marry".

"Oh Arya"

Arya felt irritation course through her. "Don't feel sorry for me" she said in a warning voice. "I don't want to marry. I have told him that. It is not my fault he won't listen".

The Blackfish chuckled and put his arm around her shoulders. "We make a good pair. If your grandfather was still alive he would despair over both of us".