Chapter 11

Last Time:

Despite the changes and the wins, Cat knew full well that the clock was ticking. They might have bought more time, but the Great Other was coming. They had to be ready.

oOoOo

298 AC

Jon Arryn didn't die.

There was no Raven and Eddard Stark, returned from the wall, is sitting with his family enjoying a meal.

She had heard the gossip. The wall was in such a poor state and so under-manned that Lord Stark held grave concerns and had shared them with his senior bannermen and women and even send a report to the King. Lord Stark was still sending out ravens, men and resources were needed.

A captured wildling had given the Lord Commander and Lord Stark word of over a hundred thousand wildlings marching south. Driven south by something…something he wouldn't speak of. Lord Stark had sent him North; he wanted a parley with this new King Beyond the wall.

The historic parley happened north of the wall. Lord Stark had met with a man named Mance Raydar. A former foundling and then brother of the Watch, Mance told of wights in the north. Of the Wildlings, or Free Folk as they named themselves, fleeing south.

The debate had been fierce and only Lord Stark's presence had stopped blood being spilt. In the end, the rangers agreed to travel north with wildling guides. Their mission was to find evidence of the threat.

It was better than before but one thing worried Cat, where was the Dire Wolf bitch? It was about now that the pups had been born and there was no sign of them. Would they be born and lose their mother this time?

"What worries you now, Cat?" Tamo asked as she slipped onto the bench next to Cat.

Cat sighed as she lent into Tamo. She still hadn't fully come to terms with the idea of copies of her lover, but she had accepted it as necessary and to be honest she couldn't tell if this was the real Tamo or a copy…or if it mattered. "Events are getting closer despite…everything." She kept her voice pitched low. "Nymeria should be born soon."

Tamo patted her thigh, "What will be will be. Have faith Cat. Now, Syrio was looking for you earlier."

"I'll go and talk to him after we eat," she could see the Braavosi talking to the Blackfish, both sipping mugs of ale.

She approached Syrio when he was alone and inclined her head toward the exit to the courtyard. He nodded and they walked together into the cold night air.

Cat smiled as she leaned against a wall, "You wanted to talk to me?"

Syrio stood with his hands behind his back studying Cat intently, "I have a question."

Cat lost her smile, something about the tone warned her that something was off. "Oh?"

"Arya Stark is very skilled; she shows a rare talent for the water dance. The girl reminds me of another talented girl."

For a moment Cat thought he was saying he remembered that other time then she realised what he meant. "Of course, she is my student, Syrio."

"Is she one of the Faceless?" he asked quietly.

Cat knew her mouth was hanging open, "What? No!"

His eyes narrowed, "Up until now we have had no lie between us my young friend. Is that still true?"

Cat was tempted to lie but Syrio was too perceptive to easily fool. Cat was a good liar but was she good enough?

"I can tell you, but it will not be an easy story to hear, my friend. Think on this, once I tell you there is no un-hearing it if you understand me."

Syrio slowly nodded, his left hand rubbing his stubbly chin. "I would hear the tale."

Cat sighed, "Remember that you asked."

oOoOo

Several hours later, Syrio sat his eyes going between Cat and Tamo once they had finished speaking. To their surprise, he started chuckling.

"What?" Cat asked with narrowed eyes. Did he not believe them?

He raised a hand, "I mean no disrespect, ladies. But I wanted an adventure, to find a good student and pass on my skills and knowledge. Winterfell has been kind to me and the work challenging but I have wondered at night, why were you here? What call has a faceless man in Winterfell?" He shrugged, "Now I know."

"That's it, you don't have any questions?" Cat asked with a fair bit of incredulity in her voice.

"Oh, hundreds girl, but I shall think on those before I ask. If I might, I have one question for now?"

Cat nodded her permission.

"I was your first teacher in that other time. I died giving you time to escape, yes?"

Cat nodded again. In her memories was Syrio with his wooden training blade in hand.

He looked embarrassed, "How did a group of thugs take me, was I drunk?"

Cat blinked, "Drunk, no you were armed only with a wooden blade, and they were in armour!"

Syrio frowned, "Still though…"

Cat rolled her eyes and Tamo was silently laughing. "I heard later that you killed or disabled most of them."

Syrio brightened, "Good…So, I was the master that gave his life for you?"

Cat's eyes were suddenly blurry with tears and Tamo's arms went around her. Syrio sighed, "No tears girl. It sounds like I gave a good account of myself and sometimes that is all you can do. What do we say to death?"

"Not today," whispered Cat.

"Right, not today. Well, sometimes there is no choice and on that day. It sounds like it was not time for my student to die. There is no debt between Master and Student but one day you shall point out these men that would kill a girl and we will have an accounting, but this time I shall have live steel in my hand."

It wasn't Cat that smiled, it was Arya Stark, "Just so."

That night as she slept with Tamo's warm arms around her, she found herself somewhere else.

oOoOo

Cat blinked in surprise. She was in a vast stone circle, seats of stone sat evenly spaced around the circle. There was nothing else, just a stone circle and the chairs. She looked around carefully and realised that the chairs were not all the same. Some were pristine, some were broken…no not broken, shattered. What was this place?

"Darkheart," said a voice behind her. She turned to see the Many-Faced-God standing where a moment ago there was nothing.

Cat bowed her head respectfully.

"Enough of that, we have little enough time as it is and much to discuss."

"What is this place?"

"A meeting place…now pay heed, my chosen. Our plan has worked to an extent. The Great Other has chosen a different path this time. We have gained time, but our risk grows."

"How so Master?"

"The great other has taken a mortal host. It limits his powers but hides him."

Cat felt a surge of hope but quashed it. Clearly, there was more coming. "The Night King?"

"Remains a threat to Westeros and beyond but I suspect we have gained time. Our enemy has gambled that time benefits him as much as us. He will build his strength as we do. His host is a baby now, it will be some time before it can be useful to him…if things are as I suspect we have several years until he will reveal himself. Unfortunately, I suspect we will see his servants like the Night King act then."

"Then we have time to prepare too!" Cat exclaimed.

"Yes, some years I suspect. Until then our list of tasks grows."

"Master?"

"His servants will seek out those who oppose him. He will send his agents to remove threats. Like you, Tamo and Daenerys…like your student."

Cat flinched; she had been worried that the Many-Faced-God might not approve of her unwitting changes.

"Fear not Darkheart. Tamo has proven a valuable asset and your love binds her to our cause. Arya and Syrio will also prove valuable. The north has been warned and the wall will be strengthened. King Robert rules instead of King Joffrey and I have taken steps to ensure that Joffrey shall not be a possibility."

"I…what do you wish of me, Master?"

"Train them Darkheart, you have rearranged the board, but the game goes on."

Cat bowed her head again, relief flowing through her. A cold hand touched her shoulder and the voice of her master shifted becoming less formal. "Live your life Darkheart. You serve as you live…but remember that you are mine as much as that fox has her claws in you." She looked up in surprise to see that the Many-Faced-God now looked like her father. "Don't worry, I sense that she is good for you. Love is part of life, and I did not give it back to you not to live it."

oOoOo

It was Robb and Jon that discovered the injured Direwolf and her pups as they returned from a hunt in the Wolfwood. They were riding ahead of their companions when they came across the scene.

Overcoming their shock and awe of the enormous wolf and emboldened by the fact that it was both too badly injured and strangely calm, they had tried to save the direwolf. Sadly, they seemingly arrived in its last moments. Whatever had injured the great wolf had left terrible injuries that were only half-healed. Huge wounds that left them wondering what could have caused them. After it had passed, the boys were left with a decision regarding the sad tableau.

"We could take it back to Winterfell…" mused Robb.

Jon shrugged and finished his half-brother's sentence, "But it doesn't seem right, does it?"

"No, it doesn't. I think…what's that over there?" Robb asked as he pointed off to the bush behind the fallen direwolf.

Both boys slowly advanced only to make a very unexpected discovery.

"Seven Hells, it's had pups!"

The hunt master had been dubious, but Jon and Robb had insisted that they take the pups with them. "Six pups for father's children. It's not a sign I'll ignore."

"Let's hope father and Lady Catelyn agree," replied Jon.

oOoOo

Cat had to hide her relief at seeing Nymeria once more in Winterfell. Even though she would be Arya's companion, knowing she was here and safe was welcome.

Lord Stark had been shocked and his wife almost vetoed the pups staying but, in the end, they were permitted to hand-raise the six pups. The master of the hounds and the hunt master had spent several hours showing the children how to care for pups and the basics of obedience training.

It had been amusing watching the Stark siblings debating names but, in the end, there was only one major change from the future Cat remembered. Robb with Greywind, Jon with Ghost the albino, Sansa with Lady, Arya with Nymeria, Bran with Summer and Rickon with the more sensibly named Blackwolf.

The dire wolves were the subject of a great deal of interest to the residents of Winterfell and the smallfolk and news of them spread far and wide. First in the North but gradually travellers and merchants carried the stories south.

oOoOo

300 AC – Winterfell

News of the death of The Queen and Prince Joffrey in a "tragic" accident reached Winterfell. The Royal family was travelling west to attend a tourney being hosted by the Queen's Father, Lord Tywin Lannister when the wheelhouse overturned during a river crossing. The King and the Kingsguard Jamie Lannister managed to save Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen but sadly the Crown Prince and his mother drowned. Rumour had it that Ser Jamie Lannister was so distraught that he remained in the West, in his father's care.

The Seven Kingdoms were officially in mourning.

Lord Stark rode south with many of his banners to attend the funeral. Joining the huge gathering of lords already in or travelling to the capital.

oOoOo

Eddard rode into Kingslanding with his family around him. Only Bran and Jon were absent, as Bran was the Stark in Winterfell while his family were in the south. He was ably supported by Luwin, Jon and Ser Rodrik.

From the steps of the Red Keep the King, dressed in black, stood waiting. The Stark Direwolf had been spotted and Robert had abruptly ended the session of Court. His oldest and best friend had arrived, and he wanted to greet the Warden of the North.

As the Stark family approached, he studied them with some amusement. To Robert, Ned looked much as he always had. Maybe a bit greyer but still a strong (and stony-faced) man. Ice strapped across his back. The young man next to him had red hair so that was likely his namesake Robb, heir to Winterfell. He looked like a well setup lad.

Catelyn looked as lovely as ever, her red hair still vibrant. Her eldest daughter, with equally red hair, walked confidently beside her mother. Gods she was a beautiful lass. Her mother come again.

Next was a dark-haired lass. She didn't half look like her father. That must be Arya Stark. He grinned when he saw a sword strapped to her waist. No dress for this lass. Unlike her sister, she was in tailored trousers and a surcoat with the Stark Direwolf embroidered over her heart.

What looked like a servant led a small boy, Ned's youngest no doubt. The boy…damn. He'd have to ask Jon the name. Looked a bit overawed, no doubt the crowd or the noise.

Behind the family was a face he recognised. Jory Cassel, a good man he remembered from the Ironborn rebellion. Walking behind Cassel was a dark-haired man with olive skin, no armour but he wore a slim sword on his waist. The Water Dancing master of the Starks then, he was the former first sword of Braavos and supposedly a deadly fighter. Next to him, behind the ladies was the other swordmaster (or was it swordmistress?) of Winterfell. She was a slight thing and his eyes narrowed as he took in her Valyrian features. He shook his head, still, she served Ned and from what he had been told she was loyal to his friend.

Then he realised that behind Ned stood another figure he knew, the Blackfish.

The Stark party dropped to one knee, and he waved them up before walking forward to pull Ned into a hug, slapping him on the back. "Gods it is good to see you, Ned."

"You too, your Gra…"

"None of that shit from you, Ned," he said quietly. "Now introduce your family before Jon drags me off."

Jon Arryn rolled his eyes at Ned and for a moment the years rolled back to two boys whacking each other with sticks in the training grounds of his home. "Lord Stark."

Ned laughed and shook hands with Jon, "My Lord Hand…it is good to see you, Jon."

"Catelyn as I live and breath you've grown more beautiful," said Robert as he kissed her cheek.

Catelyn laughed and waved off the King's compliment. "And you, your grace are still a flatterer."

Robert's booming laugh startled a few courtiers.

"Robert, this is my son and your namesake Robb," Ned introduced his eldest.

"Your Grace," Robb gave a nod and Robert found himself studying the lad. His dark auburn hair and features came from his mother, but his demeanour was all his father.

"Robb Stark, it looks like you got lucky and got your mother's far finer features," he said with a wink for the lad.

Robb laughed, albeit a bit nervously. "So, I am told, your Grace."

Ned gestured to his older daughter who curtseyed, "My eldest girl, Sansa of House Stark."

"You are a pretty one aren't you," commented Robert as Sansa blushed.

"And this is Arya," said Ned as his daughter bowed to the King. Much to his amusement.

Robert grinned, "You can use that sword I bet."

Arya grinned, "I can indeed…your Grace."

Robert turned to Ned and Catelyn, "Ye Gods, I don't envy you two." Ned's stoic expression nearly cracked and that did make Robert laugh. Good old Ned.

He saw that Jon had stepped forward and he gave his Hand a nod.

Jon stepped forward and clasped forearms with Ned, "It is good to see you Ned and doubly so to see your family well." He lowered his voice and continued. "The King and I were disturbed to hear of Arya's injuries, and I am pleased to see her looking well."

Ned nodded his own eyes going to his wife and then his daughter. "Aye, she's recovered and thrown herself into learning all she can about fighting." He seemed to shake off some memory because his lips turned upwards into a smile. "Watch her in the yard, she is more than competent with that blade she carries."

Jon raised an eyebrow at that, but Robert accepted it. The North had different rules and more than one woman north of the Neck knew how to fight.

"Well, I for one need a damn drink, Ned, Catelyn would you join me in my chambers. The servants will see to your luggage. I must say that I thought you would bring your wolves," he nudged Ned with his elbow and laughed.

Ned gave him an odd look, "We did, we left them outside the city with a detachment of men."

Robert first thought that Ned was joking then he realised that he wasn't, "You are bloody joking, really?"

Jon Arryn was also a bit wide-eyed as he stared at Ned.

"They are being trained by the children and they are well trained and very intelligent. Not to mention that they make excellent guards," Ned explained.

Robert recovered and shook his head, "Dire wolves Ned? Well, I can't bloody wait to see them. Perhaps they can be moved to the Gods wood?"

oOoOo

The Red Keep was an interesting place for most of the Stark children. It was nearly as large as Winterfell and despite the ever-present stink, it was colourful and interesting. If a bit crowded.

With their mother and father being feted by the King, Robb had led his older siblings and their escort out of the city to check on their wolves. The Stark guards, led by Jory, were relaxed but watchful as they rode through the streets. Sansa was the most offended by the smell and complained about it as they rode through the city, much to Arya's annoyance.

"Next time put some perfume on your damn hanky, stupid!"

That had Sansa in a huff that wasn't helped by Robb's laughter.

The hound master Farlen and his daughter Palla met them outside the pavilion they had pitched for the wolves.

"They've been right well-behaved, Mi'lord," reported Farlen with a wide smile. "Old Tom and Wyl have kept the curious away."

Palla smiled and held the canvas apart to allow the entry. Greywind, Nymeria, Blackwolf and Lady were all waiting patiently for them. From the bones, it looked like they had been fed.

They spent nearly an hour with their lupine companions before taking their leave. Arya made sure to thank Palla and Farlen as she left. Arya quite liked Palla and like her father, she had no fear of the dire wolves. Respect, but not fear.

oOoOo

There was a banquet that night and a host of food and drinks that were rarely found in the north. Most of the Highborn in attendance seemed to think it normal but to the Starks, it was shockingly extravagant.

Robb and Sansa were puzzled, and Arya didn't correct them as to why few seemed genuinely grieving the death of the Queen or the Crown Prince. Even Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella seemed more worried than sad.

That night, in the room they shared, Sansa had been talking about the feast and the entertainment. Arya remembered, well she remembered her dreams and she now knew that they were her other self's memories. Joffrey had been a sadistic, mad creep and the Queen a murdering mad woman. Their deaths probably were being quietly celebrated. To be honest this, more confident and less naïve Sansa was a big improvement.

Arya had asked, before bed, if they were training in the morning. To her joy, her father had said yes. She might not be all that she was in that future/past, but she knew she was a very good fighter. She might not be allowed to fight in tourneys, but she could show her skills.

oOoOo

Robert had not loved his wife, nor had he held any affection for his eldest son. Their loss had been…political more than emotional. Now he had difficult decisions to make. Jon was pushing him to re-marry. He needed a queen, apparently. Myrcella was a smart girl and wise but too young and the wrong bloody sex. Most of the Highborn would not accept a ruling queen. That left Tommen. He was no Joffrey but neither did he show any signs of being a decent successor.

He shook his head to dismiss the political worries, Ned was here and by the Gods did he make him envy his family. Robb was everything Joffrey was not. A solid young man, with a good head on his shoulders. As Robert watched him in the yard, he couldn't help but be impressed. He was damn good for his age. He glanced at Ned who was looking on proudly. Yes, Ned was lucky to have such a fine son. He really might make Myrcella a good match…something to think about and discuss with Jon later.

"What do you think Ser Barristan?"

The Commander of the Kingsguard smiled, "He's good. An interesting style…Lord Stark, one of his swordmasters is a Water dancer?"

"He is Ser, Syrio Forel, the former first sword of Braavos," replied Ned.

"How did you manage to find water dancers, Valyrian and Braavosi ones in the North?" Jon asked curiously. Robert's ears perked up; he was interested in that answer as well.

"When Arya was injured…" Ned began quietly.

Robert scowled; he hadn't liked hearing about it second hand but more importantly, this was Ned's daughter.

"Well, after the event, I began looking for an instructor that might suit Arya and Sansa. She'll never be large enough to wield a sword like Ice or even a longsword. So, I thought of Braavosi swords. They use light blades that would suit Arya. Finding an instructor was a bit of luck. Finding two was an unlooked-for boon."

Jon shook his head as he considered that unlikely event, "They were both in the North?"

"They were travelling together and had made their way to White Harbour looking for work. They helped capture some slavers that were trying to set up there and the Manderleys sent them my way. Both Syrio and Cat agreed to help Ser Rodrik with Cat focused on the girls."

Syrio and Robb were sparing again. Robb was speeding up trying to overpower the smaller Braavosi with his light blade. Unfortunately for Robb, the older swordsman was far too skilled to allow it. Robert had to give it to Ned's boy he didn't give up.

"His footwork is superb for a young man his age," Ser Barristan offered politely. "And his speed is impressive."

Ned inclined his head acknowledging the praise. "He works hard at it."

Robert smiled, pleased that Ned's boy was doing well. Despite his age and girth, he still considered himself a warrior and like Ser Barristan he could see Robb's skills displayed. He'd be a good warrior once he put on a bit more muscle.

His smile faded somewhat when Ned's Valyrian swordmistress appeared below with Ned's daughters. Despite the girl's boast he wasn't sure about her fighting skills. To his surprise, Ned appeared relaxed as he looked down on his daughters.

"Ah, it looks as if we'll see Cat and Syrio have a bout," said Ned as he saw the blonde and the Braavosi square off.

Robert was about to ask a question when he saw the Braavosi attack.

The next few minutes were a blur. The two fighters were so good, so fast and fluid that it took all of Robert's experience just to understand what he was seeing. Around the yard, men had stopped, mesmerised by the breath-taking duel in the yard. Then it was over.

"Buggering hells," muttered Robert.

Beside him, Selmy was leaning so far forward eyes locked on the sand that he looked in danger of falling forward.

Cat and Syrio exchanged a few words and parted company as Ned's girls walked over. The Valyrian walked Sansa through a series of attacks with a dagger. Then the older girl went to Syrio, who had her practising the moves against him. She looked comfortable enough that she might indeed give an attacker some trouble.

Arya however had drawn her sword and a long parrying dagger and was facing off against Cat.

What followed next was so unexpected that Robert just couldn't comprehend it for several moments. Arya Stark wasn't just being trained. She wasn't just a girl who liked things usually the province of boys…she was a warrior.

The bout was not as fast as the one preceding it, but that was the only difference. The fluidity grace and speed of it were stunning. At one point, Arya swayed backwards, showing incredible flexibility to avoid an attack. Then it ended with the light sword of the swordmistress touching the neck of Arya. Robert was beyond impressed with the girl's performance. He was about to applaud when he realised that the two duellists were still standing close together. Then he looked down. Arya's dagger was touching the stomach of her instructor.

"She's getting better," Ned said with evident pride. "Even with Cat moving at half speed Arya rarely scores a touch against her so quickly."

"She's bloody good, Ned," It wasn't enough, but he felt he needed to say something.

Jon Arryn was still looking at Ned's daughter in shock.

Ser Barristan was smiling in approval, "Truly impressive for a girl of what fourteen?"

"Twelve, nearly Thirteen," corrected Ned.

Robert chuckled as he considered the girl, who was now going over things with her instructor. He could only imagine how that would go over in the south. Ned had explained many times that things were different in the North. "She'll be a holy terror when she's a bit older. You had better find her a Northern husband."

"Bit too soon to worry about that," Ned said with a half-smile.

Robert glanced back down at the yard. Arya was listening as intently as any squire as she watched a lunging attack demonstrated. "Ser Barristan, send a man to have our young guests and their swordmasters bought over, I'd like a word."

A few minutes later, Robb, Sansa and Arya all dropped to one knee, followed by their instructors.

"I am very impressed with your skills. Ned was always a better warrior than he believed, and it pleases me to see that his children show the same promise."

"Thank you, your Grace," said Robb while Arya quickly repeated her brothers' words. Sansa simply blushed. With their heads bowed they didn't see the King smile as she replied. "If we are good, it is because of our instructors."

That had the King nodding, "Aye, I had been told water dancers were skilled, but it has been a long while since I have seen such blade work." The King studied the two Braavosi and then grinned. "Gets the blood pumping."

Syrio laughed, "It does indeed, your Grace."

"Students are a reflection of their instruction. Although my lord hand despaired of us as boys many of his teachings stuck. You must be proud of yours."

"Lord Robb is most skilled. Give me a few years and he'll be better," Syrio said with a slight smile for his student.

Cat smiled and winked at the King, "Lady Sansa is becoming quite proficient with her dagger. Lady Arya…well, she has exceeded my expectations. Although I fear to say too much…with her listening."

Arya rolled her eyes and to everyone's surprise, the King began laughing. "Oh, dear Ned, I fear that we have a new Nymeria, the warrior queen on our hands."

Ned shook his head, "Sansa named her wolf Lady. Arya called hers Nymeria."

That sent the King off again.

oOoOo