Chapter 4

Last Time:

Wendel shook his head as he stroked his moustache, "No, but I am, as I said, in your debt. Are you travelling any further?"

"We are seeking work as swordmasters," replied Cat.

Wendel seemed to brighten on hearing their intentions, "Well then, perhaps I can help you."

oOoOo

A Month Later - Winterfell

Eddard Stark had been surprised to receive a raven from Lord Manderly regarding possible tutors for his girls. Now that they had arrived, he would admit that he was genuinely surprised again. The elder, a Braavosi bravo, looked the part of a master swordsman. Not a Westerosi swordsman of course, but a snake-quick bravo akin to those he had seen in the south. The girl, however, was no Braavosi. She had long silver hair in a northern-style braid and as she turned, bright amethyst-coloured eyes. For a moment he could see the former Queen Rhaella Targaryen but then he realised that the girl truly didn't look like the queen, save for her colouring. He watched as Ser Rodrick greeted them, shaking hands with both after exchanging some words.

"Is that them?" Catelyn asked as she joined him on the balcony overlooking the courtyard.

"Yes…I'm surprised at the girls colouring. She looks Valyrian…odd for a Braavosi given the historical enmity they hold toward Valyria," mused Eddard.

Catelyn smiled and laid a hand on Eddard's arm. "Well, I am sure that there is a story there. When will you meet them?"

I'll speak with them after the evening meal," said Eddard as he realised that the girl was looking up at him. After a moment, she nodded and turned back to Ser Rodrick.

oOoOo

Cat was finding it difficult to suppress her emotions as she sat on the small, but comfortable bed in the guest room she had been allocated. Syrio had sought out the hot baths, but she had chosen to take the opportunity to seek some solitude.

More than anything, she was finding the familiarity jarring. Seeing a room that she remembered as having been damaged by fire now untouched. Servants and guards that she recognised appeared younger and her…former family. Alive and well, so young now…

After a while she sighed in frustration and stood, buckling on her sword belt. She needed to be doing something, so she made her way to the practice yard. Even in the late afternoon, several guards were working with Ser Rodrick.

With a nod to the guard, he was talking to, The Master-at-arms of Winterfell walked over to where she stood waiting. "Looking to train?"

Cat nodded and then grinned as she placed her hand on her sword hilt, "Care for a spar?"

Ser Rodrick raised an eyebrow, "Live steel, is it?" He made a show of looking her over. "Well lass, I'm keen if you are."

Cat nodded as Ser Rodrick walked over to get his sword from the rack. As he walked back, he gave it a few swings to loosen up his wrists and shoulders. White-haired he might be, but the muscles in his wrists and forearms were like corded steel and his sword made a whistling noise as he approached. There was a delicious irony in this situation for Cat. Ser Rodrick had, in the other past, refused to train her.

"Best of three?" asked Cat with a slight smile.

Their spar was being watched with interest by the guardsmen and a rather subdued-looking Jon, who was sitting on a block of wood outside the practice yard. No doubt it looked like quite the mismatch.

Cat moved to her sideways stance, providing a smaller target. As Rodrick cautiously moved forward, she extended her blade on the diagonal and tucked her right forearm behind herself, touching the small of the back. It was the classic water dancing position and one that Rodrick may well be familiar with.

Rodrick moved to attack, his footwork and timing perfect but Cat swayed away and as she moved deflected the blade, pushing it wide to allow her to counter which Rodrick managed to twist away from.

"Damn, he's good," Cat admitted to herself. It was time to step things up a little.

With a quick step forward and a half-lunge, she forced Rodrick to parry and as his stance shifted so he could counter she adjusted the angle of her blade, stepped in and scored a touch on the side of his neck.

Rodrick blinked and then smiled, "Gods you are quick girl. But there are counters to quickness."

And he moved, a heavy overhand blow that forced Cat to parry the blow and as she shifted to counter, he swept the blade toward her upper torso. Cat bent backwards, letting the blade pass over her as she was forced to forgo any counter and as she recovered her stance.

Rodrick advanced a step and swung another overhead blow, but this time Cat didn't parry but stepped to the side and thrust, lightning-fast scoring a touch on Rodrick.

"Adaptable, lass and your footwork is good. You've been well trained. So, let us see…" as he finished, he burst into motion. His heavy blade whistled in on her right. She got her blade up but somehow Rodrick had redirected his swing and struck her blade low, pushing her arm out of alignment and allowing his backswing to touch her stomach.

Rodrick smiled and without a trace of mockery bowed, "A touch, I think."

Cat saluted him with her blade and reassumed her water dancer stance.

This time Rodrick's attack was sidestepped as she flowed out of the way and her counter was a series of quick attacks that had the Master-at-Arms on the defensive. Then she saw it, a slight overextension as he turned away. A thrust and her blade touched his armpit.

Rodrick scowled for a moment and then laughed ruefully, "Ha, you are damn good. I would love another bout. It's been a while since I've faced a different style."

Cat was about to reply when she heard applause. Looking up she spotted Lord and Lady Stark as well as a wide-eyed Arya.

"That was quite a bout," said Lord Stark loudly. "Syrio was not exaggerating your skills."

Cat bowed deeply, "A testament to the skill of Ser Rodrick, Lord Stark. I fear that he would have soon worked out my strategy."

Rodrick shook his head, "She's good, My Lord."

"She's fantastic," Arya yelled as she climbed on the railing. Her mother pulled her back, apparently concerned she was about to leap down to the yard. Lady Stark was still rather worried about Arya's still healing injuries.

oOoOo

Syrio shook his head in amusement, "You put on quite the show, Cat."

"It was just a training session," replied Cat with a shrug.

"Well, it certainly impressed Lord Stark and his Arms Master. The later has been asking many questions regarding your training and has asked me for a bout tomorrow," replied Syrio.

"That's good isn't it?" returned Cat with a raised eyebrow.

Syrio grinned, "I like it here. Very straight forward and honest these northerners. It will be interesting to see how well they can learn the dance."

Cat smiled back. Syrio would fit in to life in Winterfell. He would also provide another layer of protection for her former family.

oOoOo

"She is very good, I saw her and Ser Rodrik," said Jon as he toward the table where the newcomers sat.

"She's certainly a beauty, I wonder…" Theon was cut off by Jon.

"How long it would take her to cut you down? She's a swordmistress Greyjoy."

Robb studied the slight figure talking to the other Braavosi. "She carries a Valyrian steel sword. I wonder if it's a family blade?"

"I can't believe that she's here to train Underfoot!" complained Theon. Learning from a skilled swordmaster would have been an excellent opportunity…a beautiful one even more so.

"And Sansa," Robb reminded him. "And her companion will be working with us. He's the former first sword of Braavos."

"So?" questioned Theon.

"So, he's one of the best blades in Braavos," explained Robb. "I can't wait to see him in action."

"He doesn't look like much," replied Theon.

Robb snorted disdainfully, "And you look like Duncan the Tall come again, do you?"

While Robb and Theon bantered, Jon studied the Braavosi Swordmistress. She wasn't tall but still appeared willowy and her looks…well, he had never seen anything like it. Pale, silver blond hair and delicate features all framing those stunning amethyst eyes.

Jon was about to re-enter the conversation when she turned her head and looked right at him. Her lips quirked up into a smile as she nodded, and to his surprise, raised her wine and saluted him with it.

oOoOo

Lord Stark…Gods it was strange to think of her father that way. But she was a stranger to him. Called for her to enter and as she did his gaze was appraising.

"Please, sit," Lord Stark said as he gestured to a seat. He courteously waited until she was seated before taking his own.

"Thank you, Lord Stark."

Lord Stark cleared his throat before speaking, "Less than two months ago, my youngest daughter intervened in a fight in Wintertown and nearly died. Arya is brave…but she lacks skill."

Cat hid a frown, 'Her alternate was nearly killed in a fight? That was new.'

"…and as she is far too adventurous and fearless, she will no doubt continue to be brave. I am looking for someone to train her."

Cat nodded, "A worthy idea, Lord Stark. But I must ask, what of Ser Rodrick?"

Lord Stark smiled slightly, "He trained my brothers and I, just as he is training my sons. He'd do it if I asked. One day she will train in the yard but for now, I want her to learn a style that suits her strengths. Could she learn the Water Dance?"

Cat nodded slowly a smile on her lips, "Obviously women have learned in the past. So, I see no hindrance, as long as the young Lady Stark commits to the training. As my potential student, I would like to speak to her myself, if that is possible."

Lord Stark nodded, "It is, what of Sansa?"

"The same applies of course," replied Cat before adding a rider. "If she is not keen to be a water dancer, I can always teach her to defend herself. Many ladies in Braavos are taught how to strike with a dagger to incapacitate an attacker."

"You will take them on?" Lord Stark asked.

"If you and they wish it, Lord Stark."

oOoOo

Cat smiled and offered a nod to Lady Stark as she led her two daughters into the Solar.

Lady Stark wasn't quite frowning as she addressed her daughters. "Sansa, Arya, you have met Mistress Cat. As you know, she is a swordmistress from Braavos. Your father has approved both of you to take lessons if you wish it."

Sansa looked shocked at the thought of learning to fight but Arya's eyes lit up.

Cat smiled and offered a respectful half-bow to both girls.

"Ladies, learning to defend yourself is important. Your father, brothers and men-at-arms will not always be there." Cat could see that Lady Stark was not impressed but she ploughed on. "If you don't want to learn to use a sword, then I shall teach you to properly use a dagger."

Arya shot her sister a look, "When do we start?"

"I think tomorrow, My Lady."

oOoOo

Cat's first lesson was with both girls early in the morning when the training yard was full of people training. Arya was familiar with the scene, smiling as she walked toward Cat. Sansa was looking very uncomfortable, clad in a pair of her brother's old breeches and her riding boots. Arya was wearing a shirt, likely Bran's, some breeches, also likely Bran's, and an old helmet.

"Good morning, my Ladies," said Cat with a smile. "Today we are going to be talking about balance and footwork. You won't need the helmet."

"Don't we get swords?" Arya asked as Cat took the helmet.

"Not yet, ladies, please go and stand by the railing. Before we start, I want to show you why we are learning about balance and footwork."

As Cat spoke, Syrio wandered over. The Braavosi looked relaxed as he walked over.

"Good morning Ladies, Good Morning Cat."

Arya was too excited to reply but Sansa managed a polite 'good morning.'

Syrio drew his blade and Cat matched him. Syrio and Arya turned side-face, ready to spar.

The next ten minutes was a demonstration that showed just how skilled the two Water Dancers truly were.

When they separated, Syrio wished the ladies a good morning and sauntered off, stopping only to talk with Ser Rodrick.

"Ladies," said Cat with a smile. "Let us find some wooden blades to suit your style and then we'll get started."

"That…that was amazing!" Arya blurted out. Sansa was wide-eyed and seemed to be speechless.

Cat laughed, "Thank you."

oOoOo

As the weeks past, Arya began to show clear improvement and Sansa began to show that despite her dislike of weapons, she had good hand-eye coordination. Even if she was not up to Arya's level, she was still showing some nascent skill.

Still, Cat pushed them, she had a year, if things went as planned. A year to help prepare her former family for what was to come and to lay the groundwork for a war.

oOoOo

Arya/Cat awoke on a featureless grey plain.

"You have done well."

She turned to see the Many-Faced God standing beside her.

Arya bowed her head, acknowledging his words. "My thanks…although, to be honest, I can't shake the feeling that history is about to repeat itself."

"Training your alternate self is important. She will not be a faceless man so she needs to learn how to fight, and your former brothers need every advantage they can muster. To whit, I have a gift for you."

An image of Tamo appeared in her mind as he waved his hand and images appeared.

Cat's eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of a small company of riders bearing the banner of the Dreadfort.

"Lord Bolton and his son ride to Winterfell after his bastard son Ramsey was caught trying to poison the Bolton heir. Despite his many, many faults Roose is no kinslayer. So, he rides to Winterfell to receive his Lord's advice and perhaps a judgement."

Cat's eye's narrowed, "And how does this help?"

"Domeric is a decent sort…a much better Lord of the Dreadfort."

Cat studied the image, "And what will the Bolton's death achieve?"

"He and his vile son Ramsey help set in motion events that doom the world of the living. They need to die so that Domeric can take leadership of the Dreadfort."

"An accident then?"

"Ramsey is mad…perhaps he might get loose and kill his father," suggested the Many-Faced-God. "Besides you have yet to use another face."

"Why did you pick a Valyrian face?" Cat complained, more than a touch of annoyance in her tone.

The Many-Faced-God sighed, "You are not Arya Stark. Arya is alive in Winterfell. Despite your memories, Darkheart, that life is gone. To bring you back I had to choose a face and a body that no longer lived. I chose this one because it was needed. Remember my servant that there are dragons to be dealt with. Valyrian blood will be needed."

"Hold on, are you saying I'm now a bloody Targaryen?" Cat demanded.

"No, not Targaryen, but a body that holds the blood of Old Valyria. You hold the same ability in the ways that matter, to control dragons you need the blood of old Valyria."

"How am I meant to do that? I might now have Valyrian blood but that doesn't mean I know anything about bloody dragons."

The Many-Faced-God paused and changed from a man to a young girl, "It is true that such knowledge does not come with the blood…perhaps I can get you some help. The body you reside in might however be helpful in that regard. In more ways than one."

Cat glared at the small girl, who simply smiled, "Who was she, the face I am using?"

"Aveyra, a bound priestess of Vhagar, the Valyarian god of Death and thus one of my aspects. She was of House Doveyar." An image of Aveyra appeared and Cat had the odd feeling that she was being judged.

"Aveyra this is Darkheart, the newest of my chosen champions," The Many-Faced God gestured toward Cat.

The image or whatever she was nodded and when she spoke her voice was musical and rather oddly familiar to Cat's ears. "Then Divine Beloved, I am pleased that you have given her my form. It is pleasing to this one.'

Cat raised an eyebrow, "Divine Beloved?"

Aveyra smiled, "I was a bound priestess, ritually married to Vhagar, bringer of rest and peace. The Many-Faced God is but his latest name. My twin sister Aeyai, was a servant of the Goddess of Healing." For a moment there was a flicker of emotion in her eyes. "I wish you well, Darkheart, as I go back to my rest."

Cat was surprised as Aveyra stepped forward and embraced her.

Aveyra stepped back, her eyes on Cat as she faded away.

She looked squarely at the Many-Faced God, "Did you find Tamo?"

The Many-Faced God shook his head, "The between lands are dangerous and difficult to navigate, even for one such as I. I have not given up, but she might also have escaped another way. But I suspect that she is hiding herself from the spirits that reside there."

"Where could she be?" Cat asked quietly.

But before she received an answer everything faded.

oOoOo

Cat wore the face of a young man, one not favoured with good looks, but rather plain and only of middling height.

Once clear of Winterfell, she had gone to change her face. It would not do to be Cat for this task.

When she found the Bolton party, she turned off the path and rode a few minutes into the woods. Reining in, she looked around, happy that her horse could not be spotted from the road. Dismounting, she tied her reins to a tree, gathered her weapons and walked back toward the road.

oOoOo

Ramsey had been gagged and tied to the saddle of a horse ridden by a Bolton guard. It appeared that Roose did not trust his bastard son, with three more men riding close.

oOoOo

Ramsey Snow glared at the guards who watched over him. He'd been forced, gagged with feet still hobbled, up against a tree to empty his bladder. The moment he started unlacing his breeches he felt two sword tips touch his back.

"Don't try anything Bastard. Lord Bolton lik'ly be right pleased if we kilt you trying to escape," warned the older guard.

He finished and a third guard wrenched his hands behind his back to securely tie them.

"Now walk, slow like, back to the horses, Snow," instructed another guard.

They were nearly back when one of the guards stumbled and then fell. A single arrow in the back of his neck.

Ramsey was shoved to the ground and then a weight fell on him, a dead weight. One of the guards! He tried to move as a third gurgle announced that the third guard had fallen.

As he thrashed a pair of boots appeared in his vision and he turned his head to look at a young man.

"Mhmmphh," he tried to curse as the man drew a dagger.

"Well look at you Ramsey Snow," The young man spoke casually as he approached.

"Mphhh!"

"There were so many things I wanted to do to you…but you know what? I really can't be bothered," he squatted down, and Ramsey felt a blade at his throat.

oOoOo

Domeric Bolton woke to the sight of a cloudy sky and then to a pounding headache. With a groan, he sat up to see a young woman watching him.

"You alright, My Lord?"

Along with her silver hair and sparkling eyes, she had an odd accent, Braavosi perhaps?

He sat up and winced as the world spun, "What….what happened?"

She passed him a waterskin and sat back on a tree stump. "Found you lying on the road with your horse beside you. I thought you'd been thrown until I saw the arrow in its rump." Seeing his reaction, the girl smiled. "Your horse is fine. Might need a looking to but the arrow wasn't in deep."

"My party?"

The girl frowned, "I only found you, my Lord. Were you travelling with a party?"

"My…" he swallowed fighting nausea. "My father and his men…with a prisoner."

The girl's eyes narrowed, "Bandits, this close to Winterfell?"

"How far?" asked Domeric.

"Maybe an hour and a half," replied the woman.

"We need to help…my father is back there," replied Domeric.

The woman frowned, "How many bandits were there?"

Domeric forced himself to his knees, "I don't know, I didn't see anything but…"

"You are in no condition to ride, my Lord," warned the woman.

"I must…it's my duty!"

"Then let me help you."

oOoOo

"Thank the Seven you were out riding!" said Sansa when she saw Cat that night. "Lord Domeric had a bad head wound…and his father murdered by bandits!"

Robb shook his head, his expression hard. "Father will ride out to find them. One of his bannermen has been killed not two hours ride from our gates."

Arya looked excited, "Do you think…"

Robb cut her off, shaking his head. "Don't even think it, Arya."

oOoOo

That night Cat dreamed she was kissing Tamo and smiled in her sleep.

oOoOo