[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Winterfell, 298 AC.

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Dinner, unsurprisingly, was a bit somber, with Arya entering the hall just as she was receiving several stares once her presence was noticed.

She ignored those looks and went straight to the high table, where two brothers — with Sansa and Rickon absent — and her father were waiting. The king was already present. He was alone, while his absent children were likely with the queen.

“I heard she was freaking out, still screaming even at this hour,” someone from the family commented. Arya just sighed at that. The woman was naturally unbalanced. At this moment, she was even worse.

The king looked at her, but soon ignored her. He was in a very bad mood. He no longer came with the enthusiasm he once had, not even for his drink.

Arya merely shrugged and sat beside Robb and Bran.

Sansa and Rickon weren’t at the high table, but they were in the hall. Her eyes fell to their table. Rickon was in his mother’s lap while Sansa sat beside her. It was the Tullys’ table, with the Blackfish and Catelyn being the only members, but they still earned a place near the high table.

Arya hoped Rickon wouldn’t say too much about today, although, being a child, not much could be expected of him. Knowing that all four siblings had been together in the godswood, Catelyn would clearly have questions.

Another table near them belonged to the Reach — or rather, the Tyrells, the only two members of the main house along with some nobles accompanying them, but none too important, as there was still a lot of hostility from the Reach toward Arctic.

There was no sign of the royal princes, only the king remained there eating and drinking, which came as no surprise — it was very likely the queen didn’t want any of the children near Arya after what had happened.

Dinner was quiet. No one said much. Only Arya kept picking up bits of information here and there about what others had done during the day while exchanging a few words and glancing around the hall, even as everyone stared at her. She still faced them calmly, making many look away from those feminine gray eyes.

She then turned to her brother beside her.

“I sent a letter to Lord Reed. I requested Jojen’s presence here exclusively for you, Bran,” she said, as he nodded.

“I’m sure Meera will come too. So be happy,” Arya added, as she saw Mearin and the others entering the hall, sitting at a table near the high table and starting to eat.

Her eyes returned to the lords who stared at her constantly. With recent events, even that lord from Dorne now seemed more cautious around her. At least that tournament was no longer a bother.

The Tyrells seemed fairly unconcerned as they ate, but they were still watching everything happening as well. Willas was a player — perhaps not as much as his grandmother, but one too.

In any case, dinner continued. Not even the king seemed willing to make his usual scenes.

Arya returned to her room accompanied by Mearin, passing by the Unsullied scattered through the castle halls. They obeyed no one but Arya herself and their commander, Grey Worm. He was stationed directly outside her room, and Arya greeted him before entering.

The next day, Arya continued teaching the children. She saw Sansa passing through the corridor, while she noticed something was wrong through the eyes of a rat in the hallway that quickly followed her.

Her eyes were teary and red, her steps furious as she marched directly toward her father’s solar.

She knew very well what was about to happen, but she still sent the little rat to the solar to secretly listen in on the conversation when Sansa stormed into the room.

“Father!” she exclaimed in desperation, fear, and anger, while Lord Stark stopped what he was doing and looked at his daughter. His gaze fell on Jory at the door, who, with a nod, greeted and left with Lord Stark’s permission, closing the door, leaving only Ned, his daughter, and a hidden rat.

“Father, is it true?” she said, overcome with emotion. “I heard from the king that I’m not going to marry Joffrey! He said you didn’t agree!” Sansa looked deeply hurt and desperate.

Ned merely sighed. “I didn’t want you to hear this from someone else, but I can’t blame Robert either. In any case, I was going to tell you about it today. Yes, it’s true. You won’t be marrying Joffrey,” he began, as she seemed unable to believe what she was hearing.

“No, no, no! You can’t be serious! I’m going to marry Joffrey, Father! Why are you doing this to me?” she began, as tears started to fall from her eyes.

“It’s not that simple, Sansa. It’s not that simple…” he at least tried to be receptive to his daughter.

“How can you do this to me?” she screamed.

“I’m sorry to say this, Sansa, but it’s for your own good. You may be angry now, but one day you’ll thank me. And I’ll explain everything. I hope you’ll understand.”

“I was going to be queen, Father!” she began to break down in tears. “I was going to help the family more than anyone else here… even more than Arya! How could you do this to me? I was going to help all of us! I was going to be someone important!” she began to tremble, and her father couldn’t help but feel a certain empathy for her.

Unfortunately, Arya was right about one thing: Sansa was too naïve for King’s Landing. Even if Joffrey weren’t a bastard, even if he were the legitimate son of the king, Sansa would have terrible problems living in that court.

“I want you to listen to me, Sansa. This is the best path,” Ned spoke again, still calm.

“It was her, wasn’t it?” suddenly Sansa stopped crying. With red and wet eyes, she stepped closer. “It was Arya who told you to do this, wasn’t it?” her voice was nearly breaking with anger and frustration.

“No… it wasn’t her…” he said with some difficulty.

‘Although she was the one who suggested it earlier. And she also presented this path. But no, the decision was mine’

He ended up lying, trying to keep the sisters united, even though he knew Arya was right, and Sansa… well, Sansa was complicated.

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s obvious it was her! Why? Why did they take this from me? I was going to help the family more than anyone, more than her! She’s jealous! Just because I was going to be a queen, while she’d only be a princess somewhere beyond the Wall or wherever! She got the title of your savage son!”

Her outburst was abruptly interrupted when Lord Stark slammed the table in front of him.

“Don’t you dare call Jon — or any other ally of Arctic — a savage, Sansa! You’d be a fool to do that. They live better than you could even comprehend! I know you don’t like them and rarely speak about it, but it’s unacceptable for you to treat them like savages!” Lord Stark cast a deeply accusatory look.

“Why do you hate us so much? You cast out mother because of your other son who isn’t even our brother, and now you’re sleeping with Cassandra, I know!” she began, even turning her anger against her own father.

“I will not tolerate any insubordination in this house. Your mother behaved indecently and was punished for her own actions. It wasn’t anyone pointing a finger at me that made me do it. I did what was right, and you should learn that too, Sansa. You were far too naïve, and I fear for your safety in a place like King’s Landing,” he said, softening slightly, despite having spoken quite harshly to her.

“And who told you about Cassandra?” Lord Stark narrowed his eyes.

“I didn’t have to hear anything. I noticed her gaze and yours today. My mother was acting strange, her eyes kept returning only to Cassandra. She looked at her full of anger and hatred. I found it odd, but when I saw Cassandra’s expression, I understood everything. She looked at you in a way she hadn’t before…”

“You’re sleeping together, aren’t you?” in the end, Sansa asked, still sobbing.

Her father merely sighed and nodded. “Yes. We’re together.” He wouldn’t lie to his daughter about that.

“You’re becoming just like Arya, Father!” Sansa accused. “She changed after her son became a…” She didn’t finish when she saw her father wouldn’t tolerate it. But she continued. “She became one of them too and now, you’re becoming one as well!” She pointed at her father. “My other brothers must be heading down that path too! I can’t let that happen!”

“You’re saying I’m becoming like Arya? Arya followed a hard path and became who she is today. I couldn’t be more proud of the woman she’s become. And now you’re saying Robb, Bran, and Rickon will become like her too?” he asked, unable to believe how that could be seen negatively in Sansa’s eyes.

“You’re being irrational, Sansa. Your sister is a source of pride for all of us. What’s wrong with her being here?” Ned spoke again, with a touch of anger.

“No! You’re all disrespecting the Seven Gods! You’re going against the Throne! There’s going to be a war because of this! Arya became an assassin! She tried to kill the queen! She struck the prince! She’s turning into a savage! There, I said it, a savage!!” Sansa shouted, while a little rat under the bed rolled its eyes upon hearing that.

“Sansa, let’s stop here. Or I’ll regret what I’m going to say to you… Go to your room and rest. Rethink everything that’s happening. I don’t want you to disrespect your sister again. Are we clear? If you do it again, I’ll lock you in a room and you’ll stay there until I change my mind. I won’t let you disrespect your sister here!” he said, giving her an ultimatum.

Sansa simply turned her back and began to leave the solar, leaving Lord Stark behind. He could only shrug.

He tried to forget Sansa and returned to his work. Once again, he invited his children to lunch in the solar, and they all gathered like the day before.

“Father, I heard… that Sansa left here in pieces…” Robb murmured as he entered. He’d heard the talk.

Lord Stark merely nodded to his son.

“Yes. I spoke to her about the marriage with the prince, which won’t happen. Well… as you can see, she didn’t take it very well,” Lord Stark said. Robb understood.

“I see… I hope she accepts it. I don’t want her marrying that little shit either,” Robb said.

“Robb!” Ned said in a stern tone.

“Sorry, but that’s my opinion of him…” Robb shrugged.

Arya didn’t say much about it and noticed some glances from her brothers toward her. She knew very well what they wanted to say.

“Later, when we leave here. Let’s go to the godswood,” Arya simply said, looking at them.

Lord Stark looked at them and spoke.

“Your mother came to see me this morning, Rickon…” he began. “She said you mentioned training to control animals.”

“That’s not a problem, is it, Father? It sounds pretty useful,” Robb murmured.

“It’s useful, but it also worries me. And as complicated as our relationship may be now, she’s right about some things. First: Rickon can’t go around talking about this stuff. Luckily no one else heard about your meeting in the godswood before nightfall… After the attack, it’s easy for them to associate — more than they already are — that the bird who attacked the queen was controlled by Arya.” Ned paused before continuing.

“They could see us as a threat if we’re talking about this openly. I want you all to keep this a secret. I won’t forbid you from practicing whatever it is Arya and Jon can do. Just don’t let that information leave this room,” he said in a serious tone, and everyone agreed.

“People tend to fear what they don’t understand. And having a family that controls animals draws a lot of eyes — filled with fear and anger. Westeros is full of stories where entire families were wiped out overnight.”

Of course that wouldn’t happen to the Starks, but it was still a reason for concern.

They spent the whole afternoon working, before their parents’ administrative duties, while playing with their wolves — all three wolf pups were running around, playing with each other.

Only Sansa’s wolf was missing to complete the pack. Lady was still locked in her owner’s room, while Sansa held her in an embrace and cried over her father’s decisions, mourning that she would never be queen.

Arya called her brothers again to the godswood.

They began sharing what they felt differently as they tried to sleep, focused on trying to control their animals.

Rickon kept having strange dreams.

Robb woke up with a strange taste in his mouth… after several glimpses of Grey Wind eating the food he’d left in a corner of the room.

Bran said he had actually controlled his animal, which wasn’t a huge surprise — even if it was just the first night.

Arya was excited and chatted a bit more with them.

She even said that, the next day, she would call one of the wargs who was also part of the Arctic group. His name was Edukar, but he didn’t speak much. He stood out among the Arcticans in Winterfell.

Arya was approached as soon as she entered the castle by Maester Luwin, informing her that a letter had arrived for her bearing the seal of Arctic.

She was surprised, wondering if Jon had sent another letter, or if, by some miracle, he had received the one she sent and was responding so quickly he might already be south of the Wall if she didn’t doubt it.

So she asked the servants to send food to her room, where she would stay to read the letter.

If she had been expecting a letter from Jon, she would be disappointed, but instead she received a message from Captain Maccar, saying he would be arriving in White Harbor in four days, until her arrival. He informed her that there were four more royal guards to escort her to Arctic and two more ships to protect them.

Arya couldn’t help but smile happily at that. She would be leaving Winterfell soon.

The next day, she followed her routine. She continued teaching the children, unable to go to the yard as punishment, while Robb took part in training with Bran.

The Tyrells were a bit strange in Robb’s eyes. They were quite friendly and didn’t seem to mind the Northerners’ rough moods, interacting with Robb and his friends. They were always smiling easily, as all men of the Reach were said to do. That didn’t stop them from having good conversations and, especially, good training sessions.

Ser Garlan had started training with him in recent days. They had rather interesting sparring matches against each other, testing their skills.

Even Ser Rodrik had to praise them for their persistence. It was good for Robb to hear, even if he doubted whether he could match a southern knight — at least one renowned and known across the Seven Kingdoms like Ser Garlan.

“You fight very well, Stark. I fear your skills might earn you a great name. You’re better than my little brother Loras, and he’s the same age as you,” Garlan said, smiling at Robb as he helped pack up the training gear.

“But I’m still far from your level,” Robb murmured thoughtfully, looking at the man and thinking about how he could break through his defense. He hadn’t done badly, but he’d lost 70% of the matches they fought.

“Don’t demand too much of yourself. You’re much younger than I am. My body is more developed, and you’re already very strong — there’s nothing stopping you from reaching my skill level. What I fear, in a way, is having a direwolf fighting me on the battlefield… that’s not something I’d want,” Garlan laughed at his own joke.

“You talk like we’re going to war against each other,” Robb tilted his head, as Garlan’s smile faded.

“Well… I hope not, Robb Stark. I hope not,” he said, regaining a bit more humor afterward.

Robb merely nodded, finding that comment strange. And despite looking at him with suspicion, he returned to his usual sincere gaze.

“Anyway, I’ll be going. Excuse me,” said Garlan, approaching Willas Tyrell while Robb bid them farewell.

“I thought we’d have lunch together, Robb Stark,” Willas said, but Robb just shook his head.

“Sorry. I have to go to my father’s solar. Arya will be having lunch there again,” he said.

“I see. Give Arya my regards,” Willas said, resigned — he didn’t seem ready to give up courting her, and Robb just nodded and left the place.

As usual, the siblings met with their father, had lunch, and stayed in his solar during the afternoon. That night, Arya also introduced a warg, who explained what he knew about their abilities from a different point of view than Arya’s.

The Stark siblings shared their experiences. They seemed to be making great progress from one day to the next.

Then it was the following day, after all the day’s tasks were done, that Arya gathered them in the godswood, exactly as they’d been expecting.

There was a strange liquid prepared for all three brothers, with Jill standing beside Arya.

“I’ve already told Father that you might feel unwell starting tomorrow. We don’t know what might happen, but you’ll be fine. You’ll just be unconscious for a while and have strange visions. Each person responds differently. Sometimes, you might be unconscious for a whole day, other times just a few minutes,” Arya began to explain.

“Is this safe for Rickon?” Robb couldn’t help but ask, worried.

“Don’t worry. I have a version, a less concentrated dose for him. It won’t do any harm. Children in Arctic take this, and he has a natural tendency for the ability. It will be even easier for him,” Arya explained, as everyone nodded.

“But do we have to do this here?” Bran asked.

“Exactly, brother. We need to be in the godswood, and you must lean against the tree. It will be a kind of initiation ritual of the Old Gods. I want you to lean on each side and drink this,” she said, as the Arctican royal guard handed over the vials with Arya’s potion.

In the end, they all followed her instructions, resting their heads on the tree, each holding the liquid in a glass cup.

“This smells like tree bark…” Bran murmured, catching a whiff and making a face.

“Exactly. It’s made with heart tree bark. The taste won’t be great, but you’ll survive. Drink it all at once and pinch your nose. I didn’t the first time… and I regretted it,” Arya said with a playful smile.

Her brothers looked serious, each of them — even Rickon — giving the signal to begin drinking. They all followed the suggestion, pinching their noses and downing the liquid in one go.

Robb’s face twisted into grimaces, clearly tasting the bitterness, but he kept drinking.

One of the cups fell to the ground, as each of her brothers’ expressions changed, their eyes turning white the next moment.

Arya watched everything calmly and nodded, knowing it had begun.

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