A/N: Does replacing old chapters with newer versions have the story pop up as being updated for those who have it favorited/followed? If so that's my bad. I decided to write and post this new chapter, as a sort of apology. So far I've only "re-written" up to Chapter 8. And I put that in quotes because there wasn't much change in any of them. Each one is between four hundred to seven hundred words longer but there aren't any big additions. It's mostly expanding on thoughts and adding more dialogue. Minor adds are things like mentioning ceilidh dancing a few times as a First Men tradition to expand upon northern culture a bit. I'm also trying to do away with more modern phrases to make the dialogue sound more fitting to the ASOIAF setting.

Arya II

If Arya had thought her mother overbearing before, the past few turns of the moon had shown her how wrong she was. With father a prisoner in King's Landing, Robb off marching to war in the Riverlands, Bran somewhere in the Reach, last word putting him in Old town, and no word at all on Sansa, her mother had somehow become even more overbearing. As if that was even possible.

She escorted Arya and Rickon from their morning meal to their lessons with Maester Luwin, which Rickon had started attending shortly after Robb left. Often she had to sit in on the lessons, to keep Rickon under control since Maester Luwin was getting too old to do so. While Rickon was under the watchful eye of Ser Rodrik in the afternoons, having started his sword training as well, her mother would often accompany Arya to her afternoon lessons with Septa Mordane.

Her mother's worries over them meant she neglected many of her duties as the Lady of Winterfell, but Wynafryd picked up the slack without issue, this in spite of her pregnancy. Lord Wyman had made sure his granddaughter was well educated and capable of not just running a household, but also an entire city, and it showed in the effortless way she took over duties. And when Arya's mother's focus shifted back to her Lady of Winterfell duties, Wynafryd handed them over without complaint.

Wynafryd's abilities allowed Lady Catelyn to hover over both Arya and Rickon, as if they too would up and march south at any moment. But her mother would have no worries about either of them going south. Arya didn't want to go south, where girls were treated even more like fragile things that would pass out at the sight of violence. Well, maybe Dorne wasn't so bad from what she had read but it would take half a year to walk there and Maester Luwin said it was so hot in the summer that people fainted from the heat, as if that wasn't the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard. Fainting from seeing a man's head chopped off was one thing, but fainting because of the heat? And Rickon would never go south because he hated the south for taking all his family away from him, and the old gods help whatever man tried to make Rickon go south too.

Despite being almost five years old, Rickon was growing more and more wild and temperamental the older he got. Traits which were reflected in his direwolf. Shaggydog would growl and nip at anyone who angered Rickon, and given how easily her youngest brother could get worked up, that was a lot of people. Nymeria did her best to control Shaggydog but the wolves were of similar size and the times they came to blows ended with Nymeria yipping in pain as much as Shaggoydog.

Her mother tried her hardest to get Rickon to behave but it was a losing battle cause as he would just howl in response, as if he was a direwolf and not a human. Because they couldn't get Rickon under control, and by extension Shaggydog, they had confined her brother's direwolf to the godswood, much to Rickon's anger. And Shaggydog voiced his anger by howling for hours at a time and charging at the servants who were tasked with feeding the beast. Now hunks of raw meat were thrown into the godswood from atop the battlements and the only ones brave enough to go into the godswood were Rickon, Arya when she had Nymeria with her, and the wildling Osha.

Arya knew that her mother needed to do something about Shaggydog soon because the godswood was where the people of the north worshiped. Even though they were the servants to House Stark, one could only keep people from their place of prayer for so long before they became angered. Especially if they thought the new gods worshiping southron lady was dragging her feet on the issue because she cared little for the religion of the old gods, or so Arya had overheard one of the servants mutter while sneaking around Winterfell.

In her lessons with Maester Luwin and Septa Mordane, there was a general nervousness amongst all of those who attended. Jorelle and Lyanna Mormont had been briefly reunited with their mother and oldest sister before they had marched off with Robb to fight the Lannisters. Wynafryd and Wylla hadn't been able to see their father or uncle before both of them had joined the northern host as it marched into the Neck. Even Beth Cassle had not heard word about her cousin Jory, who had led the guards in King's Landing. And the letter they had received from Joffrey had made no mention of anyone besides Arya's father. Which had made the status of noto only Sansa but over a hundred people who had served House Stark unknown, people who had relatives within Winterfell.

While there were few conversations about the fighting, the air was thick with worry for their loved ones who had marched off to war. Every battle fought meant another chance for them to be killed. And while the war was hundreds of miles away, it didn't mean those left behind weren't on edge.

Through her grandfather Wynafryd had hired an arbalest from Braavos to make crossbows to help in the defense of Winterfell. Ser Rodrik had been aghast at the idea, considering them a coward's weapon, and her lady mother had been against the cost of such an endeavor. Yet, Wynafryd had insisted that such a thing would only benefit Winterfell should it ever come under siege. It took a few turns of the moon at most to train someone in the use of a crossbow, compared to the year minimum it took to train one in a bow and arrow. If Winterfell ever found itself besieged, they could train some of the servants in the use of the crossbow to give them even more manpower to place on the walls to fight off any attempts to take the castle.

Eventually Arya's mother had relented, and the arbalest and his household, which included his wife, two kids, one journeyman, two apprentices, and four servants, had arrived at Winterfell several sennights ago. They were given two of the houses in Wintertown that sat vacant during the summer years. The contract called for three hundred crossbows to be made, which Arya had been told would take over a year.

Arya was doing her own part for the defense of Winterfell. She had never tried as hard in anything as she did in her water dancing lessons with Syrio. If Winterfell ever did come under attack, she would do her part to defend her home.

"Opening your eyes is all that is needed," Syrio had explained to her, after telling her the story of how he became the First Sword of Braavos. "The heart lies and the head plays tricks with us, but the eyes see true. Look with your eyes. Hear with your ears. Taste with your mouth. Smell with your nose. Feel with your skin. Then comes the thinking, afterward, and in that way knowing the truth."

"Men will underestimate you because you are girl," Syrion lectured another time. "You will never match a man in strength, do not try. But you can use men's arrogance and strength against them. Let them swing their wild swings at where you stand, for you will no longer be there."

"And what do you do when you are challenged by a knight in full plate?" Syrion asked during another lesson, as they discussed the various armors men in Westeros wore.

"Target the weak points?" Arya guessed.

"Silly girl. If you are challenged by a knight in full plate you run."

"Run?" she had asked, half in confusion and half in shock.

Syrio shook his head as he gazed down his beak nose at her, tutting at her like she was a toddler who had jumped in a puddle and dirtied their clothes. "Full plate has little weakness to a stabbing weapon. The metal is strong and it is layered to prevent gaps. You will need much luck to exploit the weaknesses. Your sword will not pierce it, nor are you strong enough where you can hope to dent it. And while you are trying to exploit a weakness, a man in plate will be attacking you. How long can you evade the attacks of a trained man? Not long I say, but you can outrun a man in all that armor, this I know."

They were a few of the many lessons he had passed to her in their time training together. It had been over half a year since she had started training with Syrio and she wanted nothing more than to test herself against someone, but none of the Stark guards would spar with her because she was the daughter of their liege lord and only twelve years old. If Jon was still here she knew he'd spar against her, even if he would take it easy on her. Bran would spar against her too, even if he wouldn't pose the challenge of someone older and stronger; though she supposed her brother had improved much since they last sparred, weeks before he had left for the Vale over a year ago.

She sat on the ground of the godswood, near the giant weirwood tree with its sad face, sucking down air. She had fresh bruises from another session with Syrio, who had told her she still had a long way to go as he easily dodged her attacks and rewarded her for every mistake she made with a new bruise. Nymeria sat next to the hot spring in front of the weirwood, panting heavily. The direwolf hadn't moved from that spot in hours, nor was it particularly hot out. Arya suspected her direwolf was mocking her, panting heavily to match Arya's own deep breathing as she tried to catch her breath.

"Stupid wolf," Arya muttered, narrowing her eyes.

Nymeria growled lightly, her own eyes narrowing for a moment before she gave Arya what could only be considered a smile, as if sharing in some joke. Arya could only shake her head at Nymeria's antics.

With effort she climbed to her feet and made her way out of the godswood. She could feel the sullen glare of Shaggydog from somewhere deeper in the trees. Her brother's direwolf hid from her and Nymeria whenever they entered the godswood, watching them from afar and refusing any attempts to bring him out into the open.

After making sure the large door to the godswood was firmly closed behind her, so Shaggywolf could not escape, she wandered between the inner walls until she came upon the great open yard where the smithy was. There she found Beth Cassel and Wylla Manderly standing off to the side, giggling into their hands. They were trying not to make it obvious that they were staring at the smithy, or more specifically Mikken's new apprentice Gendry.

The boy, though she supposed man would be a better choice, who her father had sent north from King's Landing was hammering on metal that glowed bright red with heat. He stood in breeches and a thin tunic bare of any sleeves and drenched in sweat. She supposed he was good looking, with his thick black hair and bright blue eyes and his nice smile that made a dimple appear on his right cheek but not his left, but it wasn't anything that she noticed.

Besides Beth Cassle swooning over some boy was not anything new or an indication of one's good looks. For years Ser Rodrik's daughter swooned over both Jon and Robb, which Arya thought stupid. Her older brothers weren't good looking, they were … they were Jon and Robb!

Gendry wiped the sweat on his forehead with his arm, and casually threw his head to the side to try to get the wet hair out of his eyes. The movements sent Beth and Wylla into another giggling fit. Arya rolled her eyes. And people thought she was childish.

She spotted her mother and Wynafryd walking to the Great Hall. Well Wynafryd waddled more than walked given the size of her belly. Her goodsister was due to give birth within the next moon's turn, or so said Maester Luwin. Arya was going to be an aunt soon, which seemed so odd. How could she be an aunt when she had only just left childhood?

Arya wondered if it was late enough for supper or if Wynafryd was merely having a craving that needed to be satisfied. Arya supposed the only benefit to being pregnant was you could eat what you want when you wanted and no one could tell you no. She moved past the giggling Wylla and Beth, past Gendry who was doing his best to ignore the ladies who watched him, and toward the Great Hall.

By the time she entered the large room her mother and Wynafryd were already seated at the head table. It didn't look like it was quite dinner time but based on the servants moving throughout the room, she guessed it was close enough.

"Braavos would be a natural trading partner for the North," Wynafryd was explaining to her mother. "They have the largest trading, fishing, and war fleets in the world. They need a lot of wood to maintain it."

"Doesn't your grandfather have extensive trade with Braavos?" her mother asked.

"Yes but my grandfather's lands aren't rich in trees, not like the Hornwoods, the Umbers, the Glovers, and the Starks. With Braavos he trades mostly silver and wool."

Her mother made a noise that Arya knew from experience meant she would think it over. With neither father nor Robb around, she was the one in charge of Winterfell and its surrounding lands. If she wanted to open up trade with Braavos, she had the power to do so, though Arya didn't know what Braavos could offer the north. If she remembered her lessons with Maester Luwin correctly, Braavos didn't have much in the way of farmable land.

"Arya," her mother said, spotting her. "How were your lessons?"

She moved around the table to sit at the seat to her mother's right, a chair occupied by either herself or Rickon, whichever of them arrived to dinner the earliest. Though that was often Rickon, since he was normally in the presence of their mother.

"Good," Arya answered, knowing her mother wasn't talking about her lessons with Syrio but instad about her lessons with Maester Luwin and Septa Mordane, neither of which she had attended that day. "Maester Luwin went over the history of the Dance of the Dragons."

One of the few times she actually found herself interested in lessons, eager to learn more and asking a bunch of questions. She still attended her lessons, as she promised both Jon and her father that she would, less Needle be taken from her, but they were still so boring. At least the Dance of the Dragons had been interested, what with the fighting and the dragons battling each other.

Her mother searched her face for any lies and not finding any, nodding with a soft smile. If Arya skipped her lessons there were plenty of people who could let her know, including Wynafryd.

"Pardon my ladies," Maester Luwin said as he hurried into the hall, a small rolled up piece of parchment clutched in his hand. "We received a message from Lord Manderly."

"What does it say?" her mother asked.

Maester Luwin bowed low and broke the seal on the letter. He unrolled the message short though it was, and a please smile made its way onto his face.

"Lord Manderly writes that the Lady Sansa and some of the Stark household that were in King's Landing, have made it safely to White Harbor."

Arya felt the huge smile make its way onto her face, happy that her sister was alive and safe, despite their near constant fighting. She looked at her mother and saw tears welling in her blue eyes, as she covered her mouth in her hands and made a sound that was halfway between a sob and a laugh.

"Lord Manderly is providing them a few days to rest and eat, and will then have them escorted to Winterfell with all haste. He mentions both Vayon Poole and Jory Cassel by name."

Arya felt herself pulled into her mother and hugged tightly. Rather than fight it, as she normally would, she hugged her mother back. Even if she didn't want to, she knew her mother needed this.

"That is wonderful news," Wynafryd said, since Lady Catelyn was at a loss of words. "For not just House Stark but for those who loved ones went with Lord Eddard and have made it home safely. I'm sure Ser Rodrik will be happy to hear his nephew is alive and well."

The raven that carried word of Sansa's safety was followed by another raven five days later. This one brought with it more joyous news. Arya was playing with Rickon in his room, using his carved wooden toys to pretend they were in the Riverlands with Robb and Jon. It was something they did at least once a sennight for the past several turns of the moon. For Arya it was a way to try to feel close to her two oldest brothers, while also spending time with her youngest. For Rickon it was a chance to play with the only sibling left in Winterfell. Nymeria laid on Rickon's bed, a silent observer to their playing. Rickon had just defeated the Lion of Lannnister with his Stark direwolf when her mother found them.

"Your brother has broken the siege on Riverrun," her mother explained, smiling down at both Rickon and Arya who sat on the floor before her. "And captured Ser Jaime Lannister. He has already sent word to Tywin Lannister that he will exchange Ser Jaime for your father. If Lord Lannister accepts, your father will be freed and on his way home."

Rickon let out a howl of excitement, one that was matched by Shaggydog in the godswood, the direwolf's echoing howl faint and hard to hear. As her brother got up and began to dance around, Arya looked at her mother with questioning eyes. She had two brothers who went to break the siege, and wondered how the other one was.

Her mother sensed what question she wanted to know the answer to without it being asked and sighed. "Robb writes that Jon is well, and is the one who captured Ser Jaime."

Rickon let out another howl of excitement, and it wasn't just Shaggydog who joined him. Arya howled too and they were all quickly joined by Nymeria. Her and Rickon's howls faded into laughter.

"Sansa is coming home, and father will be free!" Rickon shouted, doing what Arya could only assume was some type of happy dance.

Even her mother, who had been, at best, stoic the past few months couldn't help but smile and laugh at Rickon's behavior. It was such an improvement on his temper tantrums and sullenness.

There was other news in the letter. Arya went with her mother as she found and told Jorelle and Lyanna that their mother and older sister were both alive and unharmed from the battles. Wynafryd and Wylla were told that their uncle had been left at the Twins to guide Lord Karstark's force to Riverrun so was unharmed, and there was no word yet on if their father was involved in the skirmishes between Roose Bolton and Tywin Lannister.

The effect of those two letters on the mood in Winterfell were great. Lessons were more lively as all of the girls were relieved that their loved ones were mostly okay, as they still awaited word on Ser Wylis Manderly. Those who had family that had gone south to King's Landing were hopeful they were one of the survivors who had made it back to the North.

Rickon was much happier, and the mood was reflected in Shaggydog. While still confined to the godswood, more people were willing to brave the woods and to even join Rickon in playing with the direwolf; and that included Jorelle, Lyanna, and Wylla.

There was even talk that with Robb's defeat of one of the Lannister hosts and the Kingslayer captured, that the war would be ending soon. They would exchange the Kingsayer for Lord Eddard Stark and the armies of the North would turn around and come back home, having accomplished what they set out to do. Arya didn't think it likely if what she had heard of the Lannister armies doing to the Riverland were true. She knew she wouldn't just let something like that go without wanting to inflict the same on those who did it to her. Though she guessed that was for Uncle Edmure to decide.

A sennight later a third raven arrived. Arya sat in her lessons with Septa Mordane, surrounded by Beth, Jorelle, Lyanna, Wylla, and her mother. She was still trying to finish up a white direwolf she had been working on for the past several days. It was meant to be a gift for Jon on his next nameday, or at least the next time she saw him as it was likely to be after his next nameday, but it was an ugly thing. She hated embroidering and she hated that she was so bad at it. Even when she put in effort and care to make something it came out ugly.

"Wonderful work," Septa Mordane praised, as she hovered over Lyanna Mormont's shoulder.

"Thank you for your kind words," Lyanna murmured, cheeks red.

"You're needlework is exceptional my dear. Only Lady -"

There was a knock on the door interrupting the septa's praise.

"Come in," Septa Mordane called with a huff.

The door was pushed open and Maester Luwin's balding head peeked into the room. "My apologies my ladies, but Lady Catelyn we have received a raven."

"From whom?" her mother asked, beckoning the maester into the room.

Maester Luwin fully pushed open the door as his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "It appears to be the crowned stag of House Baratheon but it is green and gold, not yellow and black."

The folded parchment had one of its sides all but covered in dark green wax, the raised parts colored over with gold ink. Arya could not think of any offshoots of House Baratheon that used such coloring, but she would admit she wasn't the best with houses and their sigils.

Her mother held up her hands where she held the piece she was working on and her needle, which was threaded with grey thread that sat on her lap. "As you can see my hands are occupied. Please read it to me."

"Of course my lady."

With careful fingers, the maester broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter. He read the words over, his mouth opening in shock at the words. Her mother looked at the maester in alarm. When Maester Luwin's eyes rose from the parchment and met her mother's gaze he could only shake his head.

Uncaring, her mother dropped what she held to the ground and reached for the parchment. With a trembling hand, Maester Luwin gave it to her. Her mother read over the words herself, a look of horror taking over her face.

"They have Bran."

A/N: The plan is to re-work chapters 9 - 16, write chapter 37, and then post them all at the same time so there's only one "update". If there's anything in previous chapters you thought didn't work or changes that you think should be made, I'm open to hearing about them. Though no promises will be made. After that next update I'm not sure what the plan will be. I imagine Chapter 19 will take the longest of the older chapters to re-work, and as much as I've been neglecting it I would like to finish my Mass Effect story so I can start working on its sequel.