[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Winterfell, 298 AC.

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“Then I’ll be going, I still have to meet with my brothers.” Arya said as she finished the conversation with her father in the solar.

“All right, you’re free. Spend some time with them, they’ll miss you when you’re gone…” said Lord Stark, while Arya, already beginning to leave, replied: “I know, I’ll stay as long as I need to…”

“Arya…” Ned ended up catching her attention once more, just as she touched the door, he added. “I want you not to forget to say goodbye to me one last time in the courtyard, do you hear?”

Arya smiled when she heard this. “Of course, father. I would never leave Winterfell without saying goodbye to you.” she said with a smile.

“All right, go on, daughter. Stay with your brothers.” Was all he said before she left, leaving him alone.

Ned couldn’t help but sigh, while a weight covered his heart. For a moment, he thought that, instead of looking sadly at Arya at that age because she was leaving to marry someone, he was actually like that because she was leaving for war — a change not at all welcome for Lord Stark. He thought of the dangers his daughter would have to face, in a war he didn’t even fully understand, and that she and Jon would be fighting alone up there beyond the Wall without any other Stark.

His will was to leave with Arya for the North, summon all his vassals and, whatever it was that lay beyond the Wall to fight, face them united. After all, Arya herself said that if Arctic did not survive the war that was coming, no one else would survive. The fall of the Wall would only be a matter of time if Arctic did not endure, and therefore it was also their responsibility to take part in this conflict. But, unfortunately, it was not possible, no matter how much he wanted it.

All he could do was stay there, waiting for news from the North, while he would have to look after the realm, which was in an ever-worsening political position with the South. Lord Stark knew that things would not be easy for them either, and he could not abandon his post under any circumstances. The North needed to stand firm before the South more than ever, until the war between Jon and the dead was over. After all, he counted on his nephew’s support now that he had practically thrown in the king’s face that he was with Arctic.

‘I wish I could do more than this.’ Lord Stark couldn’t help but think. ‘I wish I had changed so many things… but thinking of this ‘what if’ is not going to help at all in changing anything.’

Lord Stark sighed as he rose from his chair and went to the window, a thoughtful gleam in his eyes, watching the courtyard ahead. There were the Arcticans, still all positioned in various places around the castle, watchful of everything, especially the men from the South.

He had to admit: Jon’s force was very well trained. You could see it in the almost motionless stance of each one, alert to anything, looking for any danger.

And to think that these men had once been the wildlings from the tribes scattered beyond the Wall. Now they were all an organized and steady force. A force that Jon had trained almost years ago.

This made Lord Stark wonder if the wildlings they had known, in the end, were merely victims of the fate of being born north of the Wall. After all, there were hardly any significant attacks coming from the North anymore; the wildlings’ incursions in search of southern resources had greatly diminished over time. Even so, they had increased a bit recently in the past moons, as there had been two attacks last month on some villages near the Wall.

According to Arya, they were desperate to try to cross because of the arrival of the dead in the southern region and almost reaching Arctic. All of them had chances to try to join the kingdom, but while some did not want to go to Arctic because certain tribes did not believe in Jon’s promise, others were expelled, not accepted by the kingdom’s rules — and those were clearly the worst kind of people north of the Wall, the scum. And they were the ones usually found raiding, killing, raping, and kidnapping south of it.

Even so, the attacks were minor overall, to the point of leaving the Night’s Watch bored at Castle Black most days.

Lord Stark set these thoughts aside and returned to his desk, opening some letters to try to pass the time until his daughter left, while also fighting against thoughts of the war. He feared a distorted future in which he would receive news about the death of Jon and Arya. But he quickly tried to push away such ideas, born from his fears.

It was at that moment that a bird appeared at the window. Lord Stark lifted his gaze and immediately realized what it was. The raven beat its wings until it reached his desk, carrying at its leg nothing more than a small parchment addressed to him.

“Jon… is it you?” asked Lord Stark, certain that the message came from Lyanna’s son, who should still be in the Wolfwood according to Arya. The desire to see Jon once more grew within him, as he unfolded the letter marked with Jon’s seal.

He began to read a message directed straight to Lord Stark.

At the same time, Arya left the solar and stepped outside, where she found her mother, with a somewhat conflicted look in the middle of the corridor.

“Your brother said you’re leaving. I also heard about the conflict with the queen, are you all right?” said Catelyn.

“It’s true. And I’m fine.” Arya replied in a dry tone. That left Catelyn a little hurt.

“Daughter, I know we don’t get along… but you know I love you, right?” she said, seeming afraid of her daughter’s answer, while Arya looked at her not as a daughter looks at her mother.

“I know that. However, I cannot forget what you did. You will never admit your mistakes and, because of that, I cannot return what you feel for me. I don’t want to.” Arya said in a heavy tone.

Arya saw Catelyn widen her eyes. “Arya, you can’t be serious! I’m still your mother, I’m your blood! I was the one who gave birth to you!” she said with a somewhat desperate tone.

“And I’m grateful for that, but I also never asked to be born. Just as I will never demand anything from my future children just because I gave birth to them. What kind of mother would I be? That’s very cowardly!” Arya replied with disdain at seeing her mother’s reaction. That made Catelyn shrink.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to say that.” she said, but the damage was already done.

“But this always happens… you start to say something and always let your horrible temper take over your words and even your actions. You really don’t understand, do you? We could have lived a peaceful life from the beginning, like a happy family, but you simply let your extreme temper dominate the whole family and you destroyed it!” Catelyn looked horrified at her daughter’s remark.

“You… you can’t be serious, Arya. This… this is all because of him, the bast…” She couldn’t finish. Arya raised her hand, but not to strike her — rather to the royal guards who were right behind. They were already pulling their swords from their sheaths.

“Go on, mother. These men here almost killed the queen just before I entered the solar simply because she insulted me. Do you have any idea what they could do to you, without me being able to stop them, when you call their king by that name? You had better control your tongue. As I said, you let your temper cloud your words. You spread poison everywhere, you hurt people and cause problems for the whole family. You truly don’t understand the harm that each of your actions, driven by your emotions, brings to all of us.” Arya said in a tone full of anger, she was furious at how this woman could keep so foolishly speaking with her emotions.

“I tried to protect you all, Arya…” Catelyn began to cry, but the daughter did not care. She would not fall for the easy pity of the tears of a foolish woman. After all, she was a woman too, and for Arya, crying was nothing more than another convincing weapon for people to feel pity, like babies act when they want something or attention.

“I don’t want to hear that. As long as you don’t learn that your actions and your mouth harm all of us, I don’t think we can have a mother-and-daughter conversation.” With those words, Arya began to walk, passing by a stunned Catelyn, while the girl moved forward outside. The mother stayed there crying.

Arya went to the godswood and asked someone to call her brother Robb and the others. Robb, Bran, and Rickon appeared soon after. She had also sent for Sansa, but she did not come. The girl could only expect something like that from Sansa after everything, so she didn’t mind much.

“Well… it’s good to see you one last time, brothers.” Arya said, opening a sincere smile to each of them, while the boys seemed a little restless.

“You’re going to be all right, aren’t you?” Robb couldn’t help but comment, while Rickon, with teary eyes, almost cried.

“Everything points to yes. We are going to fight a very important and long war. But trust in Arctic.” she replied with a smile.

“Jon is going to win this fight, isn’t he?” Bran murmured.

“I’m sure he will, brother. Jon has been prepared for this since the beginning of Arctic, almost ten years ago. We’ll manage.” she said, while they nodded.

In the end, the siblings began to talk about various things. Arya did not fail to give one last lesson about her warg abilities, while they listened attentively and also shared their opinions in a brief conversation.

It was just the four of them along with their direwolves in the godswood.

“Well, I think I must go. I’ll leave a raven here in Winterfell so you can send messages to me, at least for a while. I don’t think I’ll be able to answer anymore, but we still have a little time.” Arya explained, while each of them nodded, receiving a hug from their sister, who looked at them with tears streaming down her face.

Even the young wolves at her feet seemed sad, and the Stark brothers also petted Nymeria as a farewell too, while the she-wolf showed equal sadness.

There was a certain emotion there, the emotion that maybe this was the last time they would see each other. Not that Arya wasn’t confident in Jon winning the war, but there was still the possibility of death coming. And that made her fear that it could be the last time she looked at each of those faces.

In the end, she left the godswood together with her brothers, while all the Arcticans were already waiting for her in the courtyard. It was mid-afternoon, and certainly it would soon grow dark, but still it seemed more fitting to leave Winterfell at that moment.

There they found the Tyrells, Mearim along with the men of Arctic who had stayed with her for an entire year, serving as attendants and guards, the Unsullied commanded by Grey Worm, and the whole group that had come with the four kingsguard.

Her father was there. Her mother, at a distance with the Blackfish. And even Sansa watching from the window. Arya had no chance to greet her sister, and she didn’t care much about that and went to her father.

She stopped in front of him, with her brothers behind. “It seems that I must go soon.” Arya said in a somewhat sad tone.

“Yes… I know. I didn’t want us to have reached this moment, but you’re finally going back to Arctic.” he said, with sadness and hesitation in his voice.

“Father…” Arya stepped closer, touching his shoulders before giving him a hug, seeing how vulnerable he seemed. “It will be all right, father. Have faith. We are doing this for the whole world. That’s why Jon created Arctic: to be humanity’s line of defense, so that we can fight evil before it becomes unstoppable.” Arya spoke in a firm tone.

Jon had always explained what Arctic is. Arctic had always been an invented name, but the idea behind it… it was the idea behind the old gods. They had chosen him precisely to create a fortress where he could save the people of the old gods. Otherwise, everyone would be doomed and become part of the army of the dead.

Arctic is more than a name: it is the first and last line of defense of humanity against its destruction.

“I know, daughter. It will be all right. Soon we will be reunited again, won’t we? I will love to join you, along with your brothers, around the hearth in Winterfell, without all this mess, where we can talk about whatever we want. You will tell me your adventures, and I will tell you how your brothers are growing.” he said in a melancholy tone.

“I must want to imagine that, father. Anyway, take care. We will see each other soon, if the gods bless us with the battle to come. I do this not only for me and Jon, but for all of you!” Arya said, while Lord Stark only nodded, feeling a tear fall from his daughter’s eyes.

She took a few steps back and looked at Cassandra, who was also beside her father, but behind, to say goodbye to her as well.

“And you… I want you to take care of my father, because it will be your duty now.” she said, winking, while Cassandra was a little surprised before nodding.

“Thank you, princess. My position here was all thanks to your decision. I will never forget that.” said Cassandra.

“You always showed good work. I don’t regret choosing you. My decision was correct, but it was more because of your merit than anything else, Cassandra. Anyway, let me give you a hug.” Arya said, while the other was still surprised at being hugged by her.

Soon after, Arya returned to her brothers, giving each of them another tight hug, while Bran and Rickon could no longer hold back and began to cry like babies.

“It won’t be the last time we see each other. Soon I will tell you about my battles, which will make you all envious.” Arya said with a mischievous smile through her tears.

“I didn’t want you to go, Arya…” Bran murmured, while she stroked his face.

“I know, brother. But this is my destiny. It is my battle, my fight. And I will be at Jon’s side, I must support him. He will need me.” Arya said, even though her words did nothing to ease her little brother’s crying.

In the end, she had to leave them, beginning to walk away.

“Let’s get ready to leave!” Trinsmy immediately gave the order, while his men began taking the horses. Most of the horses were already positioned outside Winterfell, due to their large number, as they could not all be kept inside the castle’s stable.

A carriage had been placed at Arya’s disposal, but she refused, calling her horse with Nymeria promptly to follow her, along with the carriage, and the kingsguard right behind. After that, two lines with Arcticans and Unsullied side by side began to take position behind the carriages. The Unsullied guarded the flanks, the Arcticans, the rear, while the Wargs would watch the path ahead. As for the kingsguard, they would guard Arya and nothing else.

“Lady Arya, if you wish, we can accompany you.” Willas Tyrell offered, to go in their carriage following in the middle of the others, well adorned with flowers and roses, displaying the sigil of House Tyrell.

“I thank you for the offer, my lord, but I’ll be fine riding on my own. We have a few hours before the sun rises. I’d like to enjoy a little of this late afternoon.” she said, while Willas only nodded, seeing no problem in not contradicting her.

“Farewell, brothers! Bran, Robb, and Rickon! Father! Before you even notice, I’ll be back! I’ll return as a complete woman, a wolf greater than any other Stark woman who has ever lived!” she shouted as she left through the gate, while her horse walked toward the exit.

She could only see her brothers nodding their heads. Arya believed they were proud — or, at least, she wanted to believe so. She also saw tears streaming even down Robb’s face, as well as her father’s. Meanwhile, the younger ones already wept with emotion at seeing her depart.

Even her mother, Arya saw, wept with grief and regret. But she did not want to think much about her and simply ignored her. With Sansa, there was even a certain glimmer of sadness in her eyes for a moment, but Arya doubted it would last.

As soon as they left, they began to form the traveling formation, with Arya joining the group, while all the kingsguard moved forward right behind.

The carriage prepared for Arya, where Mearim was already wanting to rest for the remainder of the day, also moved on. As they would travel south, they held their formation.

This was the formation created by Trinsmy, in which even Arya could not give orders, except when she was only with Bari and Jill. Trinsmy, one of the main guards, had authority even to interfere in strategies, when the princess could not.

Thus, Arya finally departed for the south.

Jon, for his part, was still in the forest. He whistled while placing the lute upon Vezofēdrur’s saddle, beginning to pluck a melody with Jon close to the head of the enormous dragon.

Vezofēdrur seemed content to hear the notes, while Jon sang like a whisper, moving his fingers with each chord. He could almost have seemed like a dragon charmer — or even a bard who could make a living playing at feasts and making girls swoon — if not for being a king about to face the worst war this world had ever seen.

He kept playing until, suddenly, the melody turned into a very old song, the first he had learned when he was still a child. The Ballad of Little Jon. He did not know exactly why, but he felt the urge to play it.

At that moment, the dragon’s eyes, green and enormous, turned toward him, watchful.

Jon knew that Arya had left Winterfell at that moment and was heading to White Harbor. He turned to Vezofēdrur and murmured with heavy thoughts… “Perhaps we should visit a place farther south before returning to Arctic…”

He was thinking of a scene he had not seen in more than ten years. The place where, for him, everything had begun. That grove.

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