Arya
"Utterly amazing."
"I mean… wow."
"Absolutely perfect."
"Wrong," Arya said in a huff, arms folded over her chest and a glower on her face. She, along with Theon, Lord Manderly, Brienne, and Gendry had been called into the captain's quarters on Lyanna's Lance, one of the newest war galleons that White Harbor had crafted for the northern army, to go over their plans for their arrival back in Westeros. Land had been spotted and they were racing towards the Northern Port, which made their last minute need to go over final details all the more frustrating. Arya had thought they had everything covered and done with but it seemed like everyone in her life needed to make plans. And plans upon plans. And plans for the plans upon plans. It was annoying and frustrating and it made her want to bang her head on the wall.
But… she was supposed to act dignified. She looked like an adult now, she was a princess apparently (and she would never get used to that as it felt wrong for her to have that title when that was all Sansa had ever wanted), and she was a representative for the Brotherhood. She needed to be mature and respectful and kind and-
"That is the most hideous, ugly, disgusting thing I've ever seen," Arya snapped. "I mean it, Mystique… that is just… ugh."
Theon shot her a look. "She's you."
Mystique was standing in the middle of the room, barely 4 feet tall with her hair braided in the northern style, pale skin, and huge dark eyes that blinked FAR too often.
"She is NOT me," Arya complained.
"Well, she's little you," Gendry said, holding out his hand, palm down, before slowly lowering his arm to represent… well, Arya wasn't a 100% sure what it was supposed to represent but she got the basic idea all the same.
"She is NOT 'little me'," Arya complained.
"That's true," Theon said. "After all Arya is still little. I suppose littler Arya is the proper term."
"Small Arya and Little Arya?" Gendry suggested.
"Tinier," Theon stated.
"All of you are tiny to me," Brienne commented, Lord Manderly nodding in agreement.
"ENOUGH!" Arya shouted, pushing away from the wall she'd been leaning on and gesturing at Mystique who was still standing there with a cocky little smile on her face. "You did it wrong. Or you are pranking me. Or both. I don't know just… no."
"My lady," Lord Manderly stated, "I know that it has been some time since I saw you… at that age." He winced at his word choice but Arya didn't blame him; she was still undecided how to discuss the fact that in a night she'd gained a decade. "But I was there when the King came to Winterfell and I remember seeing you. And Lady Ravan-" he gestured at Mystique, "-looks just like you did back then."
"…no, she doesn't," Arya said stubbornly.
"She looks JUST like you," Theon commented. "She looks more like you than… you."
"She does not," Arya complained. "Look at how dainty she is. Those little arms and legs…" The others stared at her. "My arms weren't like that. I had… muscles. Because I was always running around! And that face is far too pretty. It should be twice as long. And the hair is far too shiny. Silky smooth… my hair is… was… like rat hair!" She grabbed some of her own locks and held them up to Mystique's head. "See?"
The others just stared at her and Arya looked down, seeing that their hair matched perfect.
"…and her eyes are too big and beautiful and I feel like I am going to be sucked into them and that is NOT how I used to be!"
"Arya," Mystique said.
"That too!" she exclaimed, pointing at her mentor. "That voice! It is too sweet and pretty. Like pure sugar! I had a horrible voice. Squeaky and ear splitting. It should make your head hurt hearing it!"
"Arya." Mystique shot her a look. "We are going to have a long talk about your self worth later on."
"Why?" she asked, tilting her head in confusion.
The way the others stared at her made her shift and squirm, not quite knowing why they looked so sad but knowing it was something she had done. Something she didn't quite understand.
Not wanting to dwell on their stares Arya blurted out, "I don't get why we even need to do this!" She waved her hand at Mystique, who was stubbornly refusing to shift back to her normal self, then to her own person. "Why do we need a little me running around? I'm me!" Theon opened his mouth but Arya held up her hand. "Yes, I'm not THAT me and that's how the North last remembered me but we have Lord Manderly here!" She waved at the very fat man, who was seated on a bench because there was nothing else in the room that could support his weight. "He can just issue a decree that I am Arya Stark and we're all good!"
"And he'll be arrested as a traitor for trying to pass off a clear fake," Brienne replied. "And most likely killed before he even gets to Winterfell. And you will be beheaded and your skull presented to Lord Stark."
Arya stared hard at the green woman. "You're exaggerating."
"She isn't," Theon said simply.
"And I was worried the North would be different from Flea Bottom…" Gendry muttered.
"You can become metal, you are safe," Arya said before turning back to the others. "And you are exaggerating. I know my father is fighting in a war but he is still my father! He is still Eddard Stark! He would not attack his own bannerman without investigating. He would not kill a woman without confirming her claim!"
Theon and Brienne shared a look.
"What?" Arya demanded.
"The Lannisters… claimed Lady Sansa was still alive," Brienne finally said, her voice far too quiet for a woman so big. "From what your father's Master of Whispers was able to gather Cersei Lannister and much of the Small Council selected a whore who was several years too old and whose hair had been dyed red to pose as your sister, who sang of how wonderful Joffrey was and how just his reign was. They later sent ravens to The Twins, Riverrun, and Winterfell, all of which proclaimed that Sansa was alive and simply waiting for your father to end the 'foolish war' and bend the knee so she might mend the schism between her old family and her new."
Arya grit her teeth in frustration, hands balling up into fists. "Those fuckers…"
"Language!" Mystique scolded, which even Arya found odd considering their differences in size at that moment. But she couldn't bring herself to smile… not with the news of how the Lannisters had dishonored her sister and her memory.
"They paraded around a whore and called her Sansa?"
Lord Manderly chose that moment to speak up. "From what we hear it was the Queen mostly. When Lord Tyrion and later Lord Tywin found out about it they were rather livid." He smiled weakly, which looked so odd on his large round face; it was far better suited for smiles and laughs than such dark looks. "But do you understand now why we can't simply bring you into White Harbor declaring you are Arya Stark? After what happened with your sister…"
"Yes… yes of course," Arya said with a nod of her head. "But you couldn't have her look like me?"
Mystique merely smirked at her. "You were adorable, deal with it." She did a little curtsy, much to Arya's disgust.
There was a knock on the door and Arya turned in time to see Gambit enter, a smirk on his lips as he looked down at Mystique before glancing up at Arya herself. "Not enough ta be able ta look at yourself in the mirror, chere? Need ta have Ravan here look like ya?"
"Piss off, Remy," Arya muttered in annoyance.
"Tell me that too," Gambit said to Mystique. "I want to see what it looks like in stereo."
"I am close enough to bite your cock clean off, swamp rat," Mystique said, lips pulling up to reveal her teeth which she chomped down with twice.
Gendry frowned. "What's a stereo?"
"So cruel to ol' Gambit," the man said with a sigh. "Gambit pays you both compliments and that's how you treat him?" He shook his head, tsking slightly. "Shame on you both. Shame."
"What do you want?" Brienne asked, folding her arms over her chest and looking down at the man.
"Other than ta climb ya like a monkey?" Gambit asked with a smirk, Arya learning that Brienne could blush even with green skin. And Theon could turn beet red though she wasn't for sure why exactly that was happening. "We are moving into the harbor."
"Ah, yes. Thank you Remy," Lord Manderly said as he shifted himself up onto his feet, letting out a slight groan as he did so. "Now then, allow me to take the lead… I will ensure that all is handled properly." He let out a laugh. "I am the lord of White Harbor, after all!"
Following after Lord Manderly Arya looked forward past the bow of the ship and saw their destination stretched out before them. There were heavy clouds in the sky, threatening a stormburst which was why Lyanna's Lance had been pushing so hard to make it through the final bit of the journey. They hoped that they would be safely within the city before the clouds unleashed their down pour; even better if they were tucked away in the main castle, safe and dry and able to sleep on a bed that didn't shift with the rolling of the waves. Even with the sky so dark though the coastal city before them seemed to glow brightly, the white stone that made up many of its buildings almost radiating with light. Arya wondered what it would have looked like had the sun been shining upon it and reasoned she would have been blinded. As it was the city was like a hand, the towers its massive fingers reaching into the clouds to rip away the darkness and reveal the sun.
The other thing she saw was the great overload of ships that were coming in and out of White Harbor. Little fishing boats with patched sails. Rowboats being driven by men with thick arms who looked up at the Lyanna's Lance with begrudging respect, knowing their liege lord was on board but more focused on the waves the ship was kicking up which were making their job all the harder. There were large shipping galleons like their own that carried cargo to and from the city, flying the flags of exotic cities that Arya couldn't place and those of Westerosi cities that she knew she should. A great behemoth of a ship, loading with timbers, was currently trying to turn around, its captain clearly having decided that the storm wasn't worth the trouble and it was better to seek protection within the harbor. Small crabbers though didn't care and as they passed one a fiery haired man was shouting at his crew to hurry up and secure the crab cages so they wouldn't make the boat shift and rock in the increasing waves.
'If we were on any other ship this would be impossible,' she thought to herself as she saw the docks approaching; the land was growing so close she could see easily the men that walked the planks though their words were lost to the winds that were kicking up. 'We would spend hours trying to get into position so we could safely anchor…' She saw many ships doing just that, with many small vessels moving to put themselves near the larger ships, calling out if they could lash themselves to their sides in hopes of protecting themselves. The storm was going to be fierce, that much was clear, and all wanted protection. 'But we are the ship holding Lord Manderly… no captain would risk preventing him from reaching the docks safely.'
Sure enough within twenty minutes they had been able to set anchor, the gangplank was brought out so they could descend from the ship. Lord Manderly grinned and waved to the dockmaster, calling out that all that had helped them dock would receive 10 silver moons each for their trouble, which led to cheers of his name and "White Harbor!" from the men. The captain of Lyanna's Lance was given a poach that Arya knew had to contain even more coins before Lord Manderly moved towards a litter that had been brought up near where they had landed; the man was simply too fat to properly ride a horse and thus had to be transported in such a way if he wished to get around at all.
"We make for Castle Stair!" Lord Manderly declared before he leaned in close to one of the muscular men that would handle the litter. "This is Princess Arya Stark and her sworn sword. Both are to be protected at all costs. Theon Bracken is to come to no harm as well… for he is the one that found the Princess and thus the claim on his life will be lifted once this is known." Raising his voice again he shouted, "To New Castle!"
"Come along "Arya"," Arya said with a huff.
"That is Princess Arya. Or your grace." Mystique smirked at her even as she pulled her hood up.
"No one will believe that you are Arya if you worry about such things," she informed her mentor.
"You had a change of heart while in Essos. It happens. I'm thinking we should take up dancing… perhaps the harp."
"I will clap you on the ear, your grace," Arya ground out, knowing her mentor was enjoying all of the scheming far too much.
"Yes Kat," Mystique said, using her false name from Harrenhall.
"Ah, I see the lights were finally replaced," Lord Manderly stated as they turned onto a long broad street that was paved with white stones. Occasionally there would be steps that would lift them up to a higher level, allowing them to rise up along the great hill that sat in the center of the city and upon which New Castle sat. On both sides of the street were large mermaid statues, their uncovered breasts finely crafted (and Arya could guess why that was), and in their upraised hands were orbs that held glowing stones. "We paid quite a bit to secure the sunstones needed to replace all the whale oil… it will be worth it though in the future. From what Lord Antony says the sunstones seem to gather the light of the sun and hold it for decades… perhaps centuries! It will be well worth it when Winter finally arrives and we are able to move about the streets without fear. Nor waste time having to refill the bowls."
"The risk of fire will be diminished as well," Theon stated.
"Quite right, quite right!" Lord Manderly declared. "Well thought, Lord Theon!"
"I will never get used to you being 'Lord Theon Braken'," Arya commented as they continued on along the street.
"That is the biggest change you have a problem with?" Theon asked, bemused.
Arya merely shrugged.
"And, of course," Lord Manderly continued, "the sunstones smell better!" He let out a laugh at that. "Why there were many who debated living on Castle Stair, for while it was the best lit street in White Harbor it also stank something fierce when the winds blowed the wrong way. But with the sunstones I imagine prices will rise greatly!"
He continued on like that, telling them about the many different interesting and impressive sights they were seeing. Arya found herself wondering what it would have been like for her had she come to White Harbor first, before so much of her life had changed. It was an impressive castle, to be sure, but thanks to King's Landing and Braavos it was just… a city. A grand city but a city.
They entered New Castle nearly half an hour later, the castle guard all saluting their lord as he was finally lowered from his litter and greeted the Maester, a rather strong looking man of thirty and five with a dark beard and deep set eyes. He looked more like how King Robert had appeared in her father's stories than a maester but he bowed his head just as Maester Luwin always had and welcomed Lord Manderly back.
"We have much to do," the rotund man declared. "I must give several proclamations and ravens will need to be sent to Winterfell with the news I bring."
"All went well with the Iron Bank?" the Maester asked; Lord Manderly had forgotten to introduce him so Arya had no idea his name.
"Very well but we have more important matters. Much has changed."
"It has," the Maester stated. "I have much to inform you of as well."
"Then let us make for the Merman's Court!"
What followed was another trip where Lord Manderly seemed to have a story or a tale to tell every few steps. The inside of the castle wasn't white stone like the outside of New Castle, instead made of darker grays that were covered in all manner of trinkets and trophies. Old banners that were so faded that Arya could barely make out which houses they belonged too… assuming the houses even remained for her to place them. Broken shields and rusted swords as well, taken from the Manderlys' enemies, the victors and the losers all long reduced to dust yet their weapons remaining upon the walls. People moved about and Lord Manderly knew them all, greeting even the lowest of chimney girls with a fond smile and a question about their lives and how things were going for them.
The Merman's Court continued the southern grandeur that all of New Castle had, with a doorway that was nearly 20 feet tall with two massive Mermaid statues on either side and doors crafted from great dark wood that looked all the more black thanks to the white marble statues.
But when they walked in they found that rather than the normal audience one might have expected for the returning of a lord there was instead only a few gathered people, sitting at a table and looking expectantly towards their group. Arya frowned, wondering just what was going on, when a rather plain looking man, despite how finely he was dressed, rose to his feet. He had on a pale pink cloak with white fur trim and wore black leathers that, when he rose, shifted to reveal red ringmail was hidden underneath. The only thing about him that was truly eye catching were, ironically, his eyes, for they were so pale that they reminded Arya of the moon full and bright.
"Roose!" Lord Manderly cried out, holding his arms out wide, a great smile on his face. "Whatever are you doing here, my friend?"
"Come to greet you," Roose Bolton (for who else could it be but the Leech Lord, Arya realized) said with the slightest of smiles. His voice was soft and quiet, forcing Arya to take a step closer in order to hear him properly. "Much has happened while you were across the Narrow Sea, Wymen."
"Indeed and I am glad you are here to hear what has happened," Lord Manderly stated before gesturing at Mystique. "Theon Braken has not only proven himself honorable and skilled in helping me negotiate with the Iron Bank but has also done the North a great honor. May I present Princess Arya Stark, returned at last."
Lord Bolton looked down at Mystique… before shaking his head. "No."
"No?" Lord Manderly said.
"No." He turned his gaze towards Arya and she saw his eyes widen ever so slightly, which she had a feeling was for him a gasp of shock or a scream or startled surprise. "You look like she used to. Lady Lyanna, that is. No longer but you look like as I remember her." He dipped his head. "Princess."
"Well… so much for that," Gendry said with a shrug, Gambit snickering slightly.
Lord Manderly was far more open in his surprise than Lord Bolton was. "Roose, how-"
"As I said, much has changed. We received word that Princess Arya was in Essos and that she has been… changed… by the experience. Much as her siblings."
"What do you mean?" Arya asked, taking a step forward. Mystique, realizing that the cat was out of the bag, shifted back into her normal blue skinned form but Lord Bolton merely raised an eyebrow at that before focusing on her.
"You aren't the only one to find yourself grown, Princess. Your brother Rickon lived 30 years in the realm of the Children of the Forest before he returned."
"…thirty?" Arya asked softly, trying to wrap her head around that fact.
"You said… how Lyanna was?" Lord Manderly asked.
The tale that Lord Bolton told left Arya's mind spinning, forcing her to sit down.
Robb bonded with some living black goo, which allowed him to transform into a 7 foot tall monster man.
Rickon was now closer to father's age rather than her own, having been trained by the Children of the Forest… who had bonded with her grandfather, uncle, and aunt.
Sansa was ALIVE but trapped in the body of Lady.
Jon, according to the ravens that had just arrived, was HAND OF THE FUCKING KING to TOMMEN.
Finally, after it had felt like she'd been put in a wine barrel and rolled down a steep hill, Mystique decided that they all needed rest before the Welcome Home feast that was planned and guided Arya to her room, leaving her with a few kind words and assurances that this was all good news (and of course it was… it was just so… so…) before leaving her be.
She laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, the only company being the rains that had begun to pound down upon New Castle. The storm felt… very appropriate for what she was feeling in that moment. Turmoil and chaos that left her battered.
'Why is this so upsetting?' she thought to herself. 'They changed. I changed. We all changed! What does it matter if Rickon is older than me? Or Robb has that… goo? Or Sansa…' She couldn't even finish that thought; she'd spent so long knowing her sister was dead that to have her be alive just made her heart and her head ache. 'I should be thrilled… giddy with delight that they are okay! Jon is trapped in King's Landing but we can save him…'
Because there was never any doubt they needed to save Jon. Her father had shown to her that there was no true protection in being Hand of the King. It could all be ripped away in an instant and she wasn't going to let the Lannisters take any more of her family.
Even though, apparently, they actually hadn't.
Sansa.
Arya shut her eyes.
'Why is this plaguing me?' she thought again.
A small voice whispered, 'Because you wanted to be the only one who changed.'
She didn't know if it was because she wanted to be special… or if she wanted her family to be as she had dreamed them to be.
Frowning Arya finally got up, unable to stand just… lying there, feeling sorry for herself when she didn't even know if she WANTED to feel sorry! Making her way to the door she paused, realizing that it was quite likely that Lord Manderly had left guards outside in the hall to keep her safe. Which meant her desire to go on a peaceful walk, without anyone to intrude on her thoughts, wouldn't happen…
She looked at the wall and rolled her eyes.
"Come now Arya, you're smarter than this," she muttered before she phased through the opposite wall, easily walking through an empty bed chamber before ducking into the hallway, the guards focused on her door and not to just to the left of them.
Biting back a naughty giggle she quickly darted away, pleased to find that part of New Castle rather empty and thus giving her a chance to walk and think.
'At least they'll be more accepting of all my changes,' she thought to herself as she snuck about the castle, darting from room to room, avoiding anyone before they even had a chance to spot her. The old games of her childhood, when she had earned the title Arya Underfoot, returned only now with far more tools at her disposal. Arriving in the Merman's Court she took a running start and vaulted herself up a wall, finding the perfect handholds to allow her to scurry up into the rafters, easily slinking among the timbers until she was high up above the hall, able to sit and recline on a beam. 'They aren't going to claim I'm not me when they have Rickon around. And being to phase… at least I can do that without some black goo.' She wondered what Robb truly looked like… Lord Bolton had been careful with his words but she got the sense he was rather fierce. She wished she could be fierce… maybe there was more of the goo somewhere and she could get a partner? It would be fun to be as tall as Brienne, able to actually look down at people for once…
As for Sansa… well, she still wasn't sure what she would do with her sister.
It was so easy to forget all the dark times when she had been dead and focus on the good. The moments of true sisterly love. She remembered when they had been very little, before the Septa had poisoned her sister's mind with tales of how she 'should' be, and how they had played together. All sorts of silly games that only they knew the rules of. Sansa could be energetic and Arya had been more willing to do 'girly' things back then.
'Seven Hells, I was better at running a castle than she was,' Arya thought, remembering how much she had enjoyed practicing the balancing of ledgers and determining servant workloads. Sansa had always gotten confused by numbers and complained that she shouldn't need to worry about such things because her husband would do it. That was when they'd truly begun to drift apart… when Sansa had decided that life was a song and thus anything not sung about was meaningless while Arya rebelled against her mother trying to make her the same by becoming the very opposite.
She wondered… what would life be like now? Assuming they could get Sansa back to being a human, something she wasn't even ready to begin considering, would her sister wise up and see the harshness of the world? Or would she stubbornly revert back to the mutton-headed fool she had been when she'd blinked her eyes at her 'darling Joffrey' because she had dreams of being a lazy queen?
And it made her wonder if she would embrace being a woman, something she had loathed and feared as a child yet now found herself forced to deal with thanks to her transformation. Arya had the body of a woman and knew that as time went one she'd grow more comfortable in it. 'Would I be able to use it to my advantage as Mystique does?' she pondered as she lazily dangled her leg over one of the timbers. 'Be okay with wiggling my hips and letting my dress be cut so men can see hints of my breasts?' She didn't think she would be able to but she wasn't for sure, to be honest, not with all the other changes in her life. She had noticed she… reacted… to things differently now. Had odd dreams… odd desires…
Shaking her head, no wanting to focus on any of that, Arya rose up and decided to see what else she could discover in New Castle. Flinging herself easily to another part of the rafters she phased through the ceiling, pulling herself up only to find herself in a rather large privy. She wrinkled her nose and was about to leave when she heard voices and moved silently towards the door, pressing hear ear against it.
"-not considered what this means?" Lord Bolton was saying, Arya having to strain in order to hear him. "They have a shapeshifter with them."
"Yes," Lord Manderly replied, sounding bemused by the entire thing. "It will be a great asset to the North, assuming that her loyalties can be pushed to the Starks. It will be difficult, I admit, but I have a few ideas…"
"The Blackfyres…" Lord Bolton muttered. "And they all have powers?"
"Princess Arya can phase through solid objects, from what I am told. I have not seen it myself but all of Braavos knew. They didn't think much of it… she is rather respectful about it."
"She can pass through walls, Wymen," Lord Bolton stated. "She could be listening right now."
"I very much doubt that. We are boring." He paused. "Unless you have a reason to be worried. I know I haven't. I am loyal to our King. So are you."
"Of course," Lord Bolton said. "But it must make you… concerned… how the Starks grow in power. It is one thing to declare yourself a king. Anyone can do that. The fool Balon Greyjoy did that once… twice if the rumors are true."
"I hear he's dead," Lord Manderly said casually.
"But Eddard has done more than name himself King. He has done all he can to make it true. Gathered his forces, won us victories, held back threats…"
"All good things," Lord Manderly pointed out.
"But now the power he gathers around himself…" There was a pause. "The Great Houses have only maintained peace because of the balancing that has been done amongst them. The Starks have shown great strength, able to eventually dominate all the houses that would see to rise up against them while at the same time offering an open hand to all that were loyal. Even the most bloodthirsty of them knew how to show favor to their allies and the weakest how to bring the sword to the rebellious. They ruled us all, yes, but there was an understanding there. And… should we have had the misfortune of having a poor Stark as King or Lord… it was known that we could all easily overthrow them." He stopped once more. "As a last resort."
"As a last resort," Lord Manderly echoed, sounding far more sure of himself on that count.
"But now?" Lord Bolton continued. "His heir has bonded to that… creature. You haven't seen him, Wymen. Robb Stark can now become as large as the Mountain but with a speed that the man would have salivated to have. I did not mention it in front of the girl but he has been rather open that he EATS his enemies."
Silence.
Arya frowned at that. Robb… was eating people?
"I suppose if he were making fine robes out of their flesh that would be tolerable?" Lord Manderly asked.
Lord Bolton was clearly not amused. "We have not done that in centuries."
"Come now, old friend… we both know that isn't true." There was a bubbling sound, most likely the Lord of White Harbor pouring them both a drink. "Your blades are sharp… and so are your skills." He chuckled. "There is no need to worry, your secret is safe with me so long as you keep to only the worst of criminals." Another pause. "Roose, don't be foolish now. Drink."
Arya leaned forward, almost ready to risk phasing through the door to see what was happening, but then she hear a glass clink against wood and figured that the Lord of the Dreadfort had, indeed, had a drink.
"Rickon Stark is a mad creature. Always making his little quips. It drives Stark mad; he has become the Kingslayer and the Imp rolled into one. But… his skill in the training yard? He can use his right and left hand with equal skill and fight 4 castle guards to a standstill." He sighed. "And he fights dirty. Something Stark has only recently embraced but with Rickon? I take back that he is the Kingslayer and the Imp… he is the North's Red Viper. The Star Wolf."
Lord Manderly chuckled. "So long as he doesn't fill the North with bastards… the Queen would not take kindly to that." Arya frowned at that comment, not quite understanding why Lord Manderly had brought it up; it took a touch too long for her to realize he was referring to her mother.
She would never get used to that.
"Sansa… normally I would worry they had lost their minds, believing that a direwolf was their daughter. But… she can write, Wymen. I saw it when Stark gathered us together. She wrote out her name… she answered questions I asked her! And she leads a pack of wolves, over 200 strong, perhaps more. With the biggest direwolf I've ever seen… a bitch from what I could tell."
'Another direwolf… NYMERIA!' Arya nearly cried out in shock and joy. 'You found Sansa?! Nymeria… oh Nymeria!'
"And then there are Rickon Stark's allies. Lyanna, or Gamora as she calls herself now. She could kill all your guards quite easily, Wymen, don't believe otherwise. And Brandon… he is as boisterous and pigheaded as ever but his skills are far sharper than before his foolish ride to King's Landing. And Rickard… Yondu as he is called… the Starks having his cunning mind in their employ is a danger. That doesn't even get into the talking raccoon or the walking weirwood!"
"And this upsets you?" Lord Manderly asked.
"And it should you as well. The balance is destroyed. The Starks are gathering an army of people with fantastical abilities. What if Bran Stark isn't missing but rather in training somewhere? He could return to… well, I don't know but I worry about it. And Stark's bastard as Hand of the King… he was dangerous enough that he was the Centurion."
Lord Manderly laughed at that. "Jon Stark? The Centurion? Are you still on this mad theory of yours that it is Antony Stark who is the Iron Man?"
"That armor… it is said to be a marvel-"
"Which he made, per his Grace himself. But he also saw Lord Antony wearing it… it doesn't fit him." He let out a chuckle. "And Lord Jon is far too busy with that Dornish wife of his…"
"A dornish wife known as the Black Widow due to her skill and whose father is the Red Viper. Should something happen to Doran Martel's children Jon Stark would be in line to be the next Prince of Dorne."
Lord Manderly's laughter tapered off. "You fear the growing influence of the Starks."
"We all should. Balance, Wymen, balance."
"And I suppose you believe I will do something about it… since you can not dream to act with your son and heir still in swaddling?" Arya could hear amusement still in the fat man's voice… but also steel. "My family grows powerful, Roose. Powerful… but also ignored. And for good reason! Because I want it that way. The fox who darts out into the open is the one that is killed by the hunters. It is the fox that understands its role, who is happy to slink and slide and only take that which it can easily claim who survives.
"I could desire to be king. But at what cost? Not men or wealth… but time. Not just to claim the throne but also to deal with what comes after. Eddard will spend the rest of his days worrying about the North and what to do in order to make it grow while also fearing that one of us might rise up. Meanwhile I get to reap of the benefits of our new kingdom… and sleep far better." There was the sound of a chair moving. "Go to bed, Roose. Dream of your son and how he will become a strong and powerful man in this dynasty. How he or his sons may very well marry into the Stark family. And how much better it will be that they have to deal with this mess that is all of us." He chuckled and Arya heard footsteps moving across the room, a door opening and closing, and then the creek of a chair. "You can come out now."
Arya started at that.
"It must be bothersome hiding… please, come out."
After a moment Arya phased through the door of the privy and stepped into Lord Manderly's solar.
"How did you know I was there?" she asked.
"I assumed someone would spy on me. You or Mystique or your friend Gambit. Not Gendry… the boy lacks subtly." His eyes twinkled at that. "As such you can be assured what I spoke of was true… I didn't tailor my words to just you, Princess." He paused, folding his hands on top of one another as he sat at his desk, staring at her intently. "I do hope you remember that. Goodnight."
Arya, unsure of what to say, could only muster her own goodbye before leaving.
By opening the door.