Author's Note
I do not own Game of Thrones.
On the night of her sixth nameday, Jon crept into her chambers and woke her with a hand on her shoulder. "Remember earlier I said I'd give you your birthday present later?"
Arya popped from the bed, grinning. "What is it?"
"Quiet, and I'll show you."
They snuck through the halls of Winterfell, all the way up to the battlements. Sara and Cregan were with them, following on silent feet. They came everywhere Jon came.
"Where are we going?" she whispered.
Jon pointed upwards.
Arya looked up at the sky, but saw nothing. "Jon?"
"This is something you must never tell Father or your Lady Mother. Do you understand, Arya?"
"I can keep a secret! But what is it?"
"We're going flying." Jon took her shoulders, turned her round, and covered her mouth as a scream rose in her throat.
Before her stood two scaled creatures with leathery wings and big sharp teeth. One, shining like the moon, was a bit bigger than the other, which was the colour of Father's bronze goblet.
"It's alright," whispered Jon, nudging her towards them. "It's only Cregan and Sara."
"Why do they look like that?"
"They do that sometimes."
Both creatures wore leather bands around their neck, with loose straps attached.
"You're going to ride Vermithor," Jon said, pointing at the goblet-coloured thing. "And I'll take Silverwing, because I'm bigger."
He helped her up and showed her how to hold the leather strip. And then they flew, taking three loops around the castle before returning to the battlements. Arya's heart thumped as she looked down on everything she knew from above.
Jon grinned when they got back to the battlements. "Did you like your present?"