[Chapter Size: 3900 Words.]
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Third Person POV
North, 297 AC.
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"Lady Arya, your father is asking you to go to his solar."
As Arya walked through the halls of Winterfell, wearing a dress with Darksister at her waist and her royal guard close behind her, she was approached by Maester Luwin.
Arya stopped, staring at him for a second before nodding.
"Alright, let's see what my father wants," she murmured, probably still upset from the heated argument she had with her mother that morning.
The maester simply nodded, and Arya followed him up the stairs, with Jill close behind. They climbed to one of the higher levels of the castle, stopping at a door heavily guarded by Jory Cassel and others.
"Lady Arya is here to see her father," Maester Luwin announced formally.
Jory nodded, opening the door with a gesture to Arya.
"I'll be going now. Will you come to the library later to continue our conversations?" Luwin asked.
Arya nodded before stepping inside her father's solar.
Lord Stark sat alone behind his desk, several parchments spread before him. He held a quill and ink, but his gaze had already lifted from the papers to the door as his youngest daughter entered. Jill remained outside with Jory and the other guards.
"Arya," he greeted as the door closed behind her, leaving them alone.
"Father, you called for me," Arya said calmly.
"Yes... I heard about the argument you had with your mother," he remarked, placing the quill down.
"Half the castle heard it. By now, everyone probably knows," Arya responded with the same calm tone.
"Is it really impossible for you to get along with her? This is the fourth argument in a week..." He sighed deeply. Arya and Catelyn had been clashing frequently in recent days. Even in Septa Mordane's absence, their exchanges often escalated into heated disputes.
"Tell her to stop trying to arrange my life, Father. She wanted me to accompany some visiting nobles in the coming moons, saying she'd try to secure a match for me. I, of course, refused," Arya stated firmly.
"I told her that should be discussed later..." Ned sighed again, already regretting the timing of this conversation. But Catelyn had insisted, pressing the matter just a week after Arya returned home.
"I've already told you—I'm not looking for a husband, Father. I'm only here for a visit," Arya reminded him.
"You know, no matter how harsh your mother may seem, she only wants what's best for you—to keep you home," Ned said with a heavy sigh.
"Best for whom? Me? Or what she thinks is best?" Arya retorted with a hint of mockery. Her father pressed his lips together, at a loss for words.
But Arya wasn't done.
"Besides, I've told you before: Winterfell is not my home anymore. I don't belong here, Father... whether you like it or not," she declared, her tone unwavering.
"..."
Ned couldn't say he was a happy father hearing such words from his daughter, who was nearing her fifteenth nameday.
"Arya... do you really want to live in Artica? If that's what you want, I won't stop you," Ned finally said. He didn't like it, but he knew he had little power to hold her back. His daughter had run away from home at eight years old. She could do it again with far more ease now, especially with Jon in the picture. Jon, who had 500 ships at his disposal and a dragon that could easily sweep over Winterfell.
"Obviously, Father. I wish to live nowhere else," Arya confirmed.
"Very well then..." He sighed, turning his attention back to her once more. "And how have you been with your sister? I know you've been distant from each other."
"I don't hold any grudge against her... but she's always cautious around me. I've tried talking to her, but the only topics she shows any excitement for are silly things. It's easier to hold a conversation with the kennel master than with Sansa and her friends," Arya replied with a mocking tone.
"Arya, don't speak of your sister that way. I know she's wary of you since you returned, but she's still your sister..." Ned chided gently.
"Father, what kind of education did you give her? She and her friends live in a world that doesn't exist... She knows nothing about the real world and spends her days in a fantasy," Arya said.
"She didn't live as you did, seeing the world, Arya. Go easy on her," he replied in a calm tone.
"But surely you could teach her more about how the world works instead of those stupid stories..." Arya mocked, crossing her arms. "You'll see, Sansa will be very frustrated when reality hits her in the future," she added.
Ned looked at her for a moment and nodded.
"I'll look into that later to see if what you're saying is true."
"Whatever... Did you call me here just to talk about my mother and sister? Bran might need more archery lessons," she remarked, remembering she had been on her way to the training yard after leaving the sewing room, where she had argued with her mother and Sansa, when Maester Luwin called her to the solar.
"No... I wanted to ask you something," Ned said as he opened some parchments. "I've heard that you're quite skilled with administrative matters... Can you help me with some tasks I'm handling in the North?"
Arya raised an eyebrow as she approached him.
She knew he was trying to spend time with her, making up for the lost years. With Maester Luwin's suggestion, it seemed her father wanted her help with his duties as Warden of the North. This was something Robb should be doing, but it was a chance for Ned to reconnect with his daughter.
"Of course."
Even though Arya saw through her father's small manipulation, she didn't mind. She nodded and began reading the parchments. Perhaps her knowledge from Artica and her travels would be useful in the end.
"Where's Arya?" Bran's voice echoed through the yard that afternoon as he practiced his archery. He had been waiting for his sister all day, but she hadn't even appeared for the midday meal.
"She's with Father..." Robb answered while putting away some training swords as Ser Rodrik had instructed.
"All day?" Bran complained.
"I know. And Mother wasn't happy when she heard that Arya's been helping Father write letters to the northern lords," Robb said as he finished his task and walked toward the armory to store the equipment.
"She should be here! She promised she'd spar with Ser Rodrik again today! You should have seen last week's match!" Bran said excitedly, recalling the duel his sister had fought.
"I know, everyone's been talking about it, Bran. I don't want to hear about it anymore," Robb replied, his tone tense.
He couldn't shake the memory of that day. Catelyn had made a scene when she discovered Arya was fighting alongside the boys. She had even dueled Theon and Robb himself. The worst of it had been when Catelyn arrived just as Arya was sparring with Ser Rodrik—with real blades.
Arya wielded Darksister with such agility that she had put Winterfell's master-at-arms in a difficult position. The duel had been interrupted by Lady Stark's furious cry, leaving the fight unresolved. That had been the start of several heated arguments between Arya and her mother throughout the week.
Robb didn't know what to think. Arya's words from that day still haunted him. He hadn't spoken much to her since. He felt anger, fear, and shame, but he didn't know whom to blame—Arya, Jon, his mother, or himself.
"I'm right here if you're looking for me..."
Arya's voice broke the silence as she walked into the yard, holding Rickon's hand. Jill followed close behind—a familiar sight by now.
"Arya!" Bran exclaimed, his face lighting up with joy. His sister, the person he admired most, was finally here.
"..." Robb said nothing as he continued putting away the training swords.
"Bran!" Rickon shouted excitedly. The little boy had been wandering the corridors alone until Arya found him and agreed to take him outside. Now, here he was.
"Shall we practice a bit? How's your aim today?" Arya asked with a smile.
She had finished helping their father earlier. They had even shared a meal while working, with servants bringing food to them. Arya had helped Ned organize preparations for a harsh winter that was expected to be worse than any in recent memory, following a decade-long summer in the North.
"That's great! Today I can show that I'm good with the bow too!" Bran exclaimed, repeating the same words he'd been saying for days, while Rickon seemed excited, and Arya nodded.
Her gaze shifted to her older brother, who was beginning to leave the yard. They exchanged a glance, and Robb simply nodded at Arya as he walked past her without saying a word. He hadn't spoken to her properly in days.
Arya returned the nod, watching him walk away. After that, she turned back to her brothers, preparing a few arrows with Rickon helping Bran.
Arya spent the afternoon with Bran, supervising his archery training and trying to help him improve. In just a week, there was already a noticeable change in his posture, and his aim was steadily getting better.
"Aren't you going to spar with Ser Rodrik again? It's been a week already!" Bran asked after releasing another arrow, which struck the third circle—still a bit far from the center—at a 30-meter distance.
"You know Mother won't allow it. And Ser Rodrik is forbidden from it too, isn't that right, Ser Rodrik?" Arya replied, glancing at the knight standing nearby, observing the young recruits' training.
"I know, Lady Arya. And yes, it's true. Your mother certainly wouldn't be pleased to see you training again," Ser Rodrik replied, adjusting his tone to avoid sounding disrespectful. "To avoid further problems, it's best we don't practice anymore," he concluded.
Even so, he had to admit that Arya was a formidable opponent. He had witnessed it firsthand when the young woman dueled him, wielding Darksister with remarkable skill and speed, surprising even Winterfell's master-at-arms.
Lady Catelyn Stark, however, was strict enough to forbid any further sparring between Arya and the boys. She had made it clear that she did not want her daughter fighting alongside the men. Otherwise, there would be more arguments and reprisals from her.
Arya gave a faint smile and murmured, "What a pity."
Bran, hearing the conversation, approached with bright, hopeful eyes.
"Can we train in secret, then?" he asked, almost whispering.
Arya laughed, shaking her head.
"That would only bring more trouble, Bran. You know how Mother is."
"And the wolves! Can we see them?!" Rickon shouted excitedly.
"Maybe tomorrow," Arya replied.
Another topic that sparked a heated discussion that day was about the direwolves. Bran and Rickon wanted to take Arya's Nymeria for a walk outside Winterfell, but Catelyn was firmly against the idea.
"No! I don't want my children wandering around with those dangerous creatures!" she exclaimed, trying to put an end to the matter.
But Arya, as always, managed to win the argument. With words as sharp as her sword, she left her mother visibly irritated.
After spending some time in the yard that afternoon, the sun began to set. Arya and Bran decided to return to the castle.
"Bran, go take a bath. You're filthy from all the training," Arya ordered as they walked through the corridors of Winterfell.
"I was only shooting arrows! I don't need a bath right now!" Bran complained, crossing his arms.
"Don't argue," Arya replied firmly.
After making sure Bran followed her orders, Arya decided to head to the library. She hadn't done any physical training herself, so she decided to leave her bath for later. She made her way to that part of the castle to find a book to read before bed.
Upon entering, she found Maester Luwin organizing some shelves, surrounded by piles of books.
"Lady Arya, you're here," Luwin greeted, adjusting a few books on the table. "Unfortunately, I'll have to postpone that matter. Perhaps we can continue tomorrow, if you're willing."
Arya nodded.
"Of course. I actually came to get a book. And what are you doing here? You seem quite busy," she commented, observing the organized chaos of the library.
"I'm organizing this section and also researching a disease that has affected a family in Wintertown," Luwin replied in a serious tone.
"A disease?" Arya approached, intrigued. "Can you tell me more about it?"
The maester hesitated, surprised by the young lady's interest.
"Are you interested in this kind of thing, Lady Arya?" he asked.
"Well, I have nothing to do until dinner. So, why not?" Arya replied with a curious smile. "Let me take a look at it."
Luwin sighed and nodded.
"Well... I don't know if illnesses are your area of interest, but I'm dealing with a rare disease. A family is showing unusual symptoms. I'm trying to find any historical records of something similar, but in my 17 years serving House Stark, I've never seen anything like this."
Arya crossed her arms, looking thoughtful.
"Interesting... Then let me help. It's never too late to learn something new."
The maester still seemed surprised, but seeing Arya's confidence, he handed her a few books. They spent the next few hours in the library, immersed in research and conversation.
After finishing in the library, Arya went to take a bath. As dusk approached, she chose a dress and headed to the great hall.
Her entrance immediately drew attention, as had been the case throughout the week since her return. The dresses she wore were extravagant—not because they were colorful, but because they were expertly crafted from expensive fabrics, standing out against the simple attire of the women of Winterfell.
As she walked through the hall, she caught the eyes of the serving women, the other ladies, and even her sister Sansa. Many looked at Arya with envy.
Her mother, Catelyn Stark, on the other hand, seemed to have a glimmer of pride in her eyes. It was evident that she was pleased to see how beautiful her daughter had become.
"What a lovely necklace! What is that stone?" Jayne Poole couldn't contain her curiosity when Arya approached the central table where she was seated. Jayne's eyes were fixed on the greenish necklace Arya wore around her neck.
"This is jade. It's a precious stone from Yi Ti. Jon bought it for me," Arya said with a hint of pride.
The women around her admired the necklace, enchanted by it. Even Sansa, seated nearby, shrank back a little at the sight of her sister. She remained silent, but couldn't stop herself from stealing furtive glances at Arya.
The mention of "Jon" made Catelyn tense slightly, as she had done every time she heard his name in recent days. Even so, Lady Stark maintained her composure.
The dinner continued with Bran chatting excitedly with Arya and other members of the family. Sansa, however, preferred to remain an observer, as did Robb.
The next morning, Arya was one of the first to leave the castle. The first rays of sunlight stretched across the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and orange. Arya hated wasting time and always made a point of waking early without relying on servants.
As usual, she walked outside the castle and found her men already gathered, finishing their breakfast.
"Grey Worm, prepare all of our men," Arya ordered.
The Unsullied leader gave a respectful nod before turning to issue commands to the others. The men quickly began organizing themselves.
Since arriving in Winterfell, Arya had spent part of her days training her personal force. She made a point of knowing the men who followed her, personally overseeing their training, and reinforcing their discipline and loyalty.
Jill, her personal guard, was always at her side, silently watching.
After a few hours of intense training, Arya dismissed the men by mid-morning. Without wasting any time, she returned to the castle with Jill and decided to visit the kennels.
She took Nymeria with her.
Everyone who saw them pass by quickly stepped aside, keeping their distance. The massive direwolf walked beside Arya with a majestic and imposing demeanor, her presence within Winterfell's walls leaving no one indifferent.
Her brothers soon approached, delighted to see Nymeria again. Even the kennel master seemed terrified at their approach and vacated the area.
When Arya entered the kennel, she gave a short whistle, and Nymeria calmly lay down in the designated washing area.
Without waiting for help, Arya began preparing the bath. Though there were plenty of servants who could do it for her, Arya refused. It was a special moment between her and her direwolf, a bond she wouldn't let anyone interfere with.
With a sponge and a bucket of water, Arya began scrubbing Nymeria's fur, completely unconcerned about her expensive dress.
Her brothers found the scene incredibly amusing, laughing as they watched Arya bathe her wolf without a care in the world.
Outside, Catelyn Stark watched the scene, horrified. The first time she saw it, she had exclaimed at her daughter:
"Why are you doing this, Arya? This is not something a lady should do!"
Arya still remembered how her mother had tried to intervene, but she had completely ignored her.
Even as a lord's daughter, Arya didn't care about getting her hands dirty.
'Even Jon, who is a king, bathes his enormous Ghost from time to time. Why wouldn't I do the same?' she thought.
Meanwhile, Robb Stark was in the godswood, standing before the ancient weirwood tree. The carved face in the tree watched him in silence, its red eyes leaking sap like tears of blood.
'There is still time to redeem yourself, brother. If you don't, you will disgrace the Stark name and never be a true Lord of Winterfell while you continue thinking like a Greyjoy or even a Tully,' his sister's words echoed in his mind.
'You are a wolf of the North. Don't let jealousy consume you, brother. Either way, our fight is over.'
Robb had been visiting the godswood often in recent days. It was the only place where he felt some measure of peace. Sitting before the weirwood, he reflected on Arya's words. Ever since their duel a week ago, her words had haunted him, disturbing his thoughts.
Robb closed his eyes, trying to push Arya's voice from his mind. But no matter how hard he tried, the guilt and shame continued to torment him.
"What should I do?" he murmured, walking slowly through the godswood.
Even as a child, Robb Stark knew he could have acted differently. He should have told his father the truth. But the jealousy he felt toward Jon had paralyzed him.
Jon had traveled the world, fought battles, earned recognition from everyone, and was a king respected even by Westeros. Everyone feared him. Meanwhile, Robb—the legitimate heir—remained stuck in Winterfell, fulfilling duties that now seemed small compared to his half-brother's accomplishments.
It was frustrating. And that frustration made his guilt even heavier.
Robb knelt before the weirwood, his eyes fixed on the carved face.
"I can't change the past... I suppose not... But I should act right, shouldn't I?" he whispered, seeking answers from the old gods.
But the godswood remained silent, which only deepened his frustration.
After several long minutes, he stood up, sighing.
"So be it," he murmured, resigned.
With firm steps, he left the godswood and headed back to the castle.
Meanwhile, Ned Stark was in conversation with Maester Luwin in his solar.
"So... They're not talking much?" Ned sighed, worried.
He had asked the maester for more information about his daughters' behavior, especially Arya and Sansa. He took the opportunity to address the matter while Arya was out that morning.
"Indeed, Lord Stark. I've placed them together for lessons, but... Arya has truly remarkable knowledge. She even challenges me on some subjects, claiming I may have gathered incorrect information. Which is quite surprising," Luwin said with a slight smile. "And the girl is very good at arguing."
Ned frowned, thoughtful.
"And Sansa? How is she reacting?"
Luwin sighed.
"Sansa is much quieter than she used to be."
"What do you think I should do? I don't want Sansa to grow so distant from her sister," Ned murmured, rubbing his face. "But Arya is different now. She's unyielding. She won't want to enjoy knights and love stories like Sansa. She won't want to read poetry and songs..."
Luwin nodded, but his expression grew more serious.
"It's more complicated than it seems, Lord Stark. Your eldest daughter feels envy toward Arya. It's quite evident. And it's not surprising," the maester explained.
"Arya has become a woman with many admirers. She's intelligent, strong, and commands attention wherever she goes. And with all those unique traits... She trains her younger brother in archery, fights adult knights in battles, even defeated her older brother in a duel. And she trains an army every morning."
Luwin paused before continuing.
"Sansa finds these things barbaric, but it's impossible to deny that she feels envy toward her sister. The clothes, the way Arya behaves... she draws everyone's attention now. Sansa used to be the one who received all the attention, and I fear this change is difficult for her to accept. I hope it's only temporary..." he said.
Ned Stark remained silent for a long moment.
He was proud that Arya had grown into a strong and independent woman. But at the same time, he couldn't ignore the effect this was having on Sansa.
He sighed again, unsure of what to say. And before he could continue the conversation, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Ned ordered.
Jory Cassel opened the door and entered the room.
"Lord Stark, your eldest son is here to see you," Jory informed.
"Robb?" Ned murmured, his gaze shifting to Jory with surprise before he sighed. "Tell him I'll see him later. I'm in a meeting with Maester Luwin right now."
Jory, however, remained standing.
"I already told him that, but he insists. He says it's something serious," Jory explained.
Ned raised an eyebrow, intrigued. After a moment of reflection, he sighed and nodded.
"Very well. Send him in."
Jory left to authorize Robb's entrance. Turning back to Maester Luwin, Ned spoke:
"My apologies for this. Can we continue our conversation another time?"
Luwin gave a slight nod.
"Of course, Lord Stark. No offense taken. I'll be in my usual place. Call for me whenever you need."
With that, the maester excused himself. On his way out, he held the door open for Robb, who entered the room immediately after.
The young man acknowledged Luwin with a brief nod, receiving the same gesture in return. As soon as the door closed, Robb was left alone with his father.
"So, son... How can I help you?" Ned asked, observing Robb carefully.
He noticed that his son seemed troubled — more than usual. Over the past week, Robb's behavior had already caught Ned's attention. He had intended to speak with him about it, but now Robb seemed even more disturbed.
Robb remained silent for a moment, clenching his fists tightly, as if battling something within himself.
"Father... I need to tell you something," Robb began, his voice heavy with guilt. "Something I've kept hidden for many years."
-------------Nexts Chapters ----------------
Chapter 225 - Echoes from the North.
Chapter 230 - Greywater Watch.
Chapter 240 - Arriving in Vaes Dothraki.
Chapter 249 - Discussion at Mance's camp.
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