The Dragon and the Wolf

Arya

She walked down the shadowy hallways of Winterfell, she hadn't slept more than a few minutes the entire night and now the sun was rising. She knew she wouldn't get anymore sleep so swiftly got dressed and left her chambers.

She hadn't eaten yet. The cooks weren't awake yet. Her hair was unbrushed and knotty, it had grown longer in the past moon turns, nearly reaching her shoulders. She didn't like it long and had considered trimming it many times.

She stepped outside into the courtyard. It was significantly colder and she felt goosebumps rise over her skin, even under all her layers.

"You're up early,"

She didn't have to look to recognise it was the stablemaster who spoke.

"Good morning, Martyn," Arya said cordially.

He smiled at her. "It's cold. Winter, eh?"

"Yes," she replied. "I'm not sure I'm quite used to it just yet,"

He shrugged. "You're a wolf. You're made for the cold. You'll get used to it. Don't you worry, milady, that skin of yours will soon be pale once more,"

She smiled at him briefly. How could she be a wolf is she was no one. She dreaded her own identity because she didn't know who she herself was. She liked telling herself she was Arya Stark of Winterfell, but she didn't feel like it. She didn't feel like anyone.

"Your wolf headed out to the Wolfswood to hunt." He told her. "Damn good at it, she is. Hunters go out every day to try and gather some food for everyone... they usually end up with some rabbits... but that wolf 'o yours dragged half a stag through the gates yesterday. She tried biting off Nordin's hand... tough bitch, she is."

"Like her owner," she muttered humourlessly. She looked over at the castle gates, only some men were there.

"You should head back inside. You don't wanna be catching a chill. It's getting colder every morning. Come back out later when the suns up."

"Goodbye, Martyn,"

She silently walked back into the castle. Arya considered going back to her chambers to try and get some rest but stopped walking when she passed Jon's bedchamber.

She stared at the door for a moment before stepping forward and knocking. There were no guards outside their doors, they rather stood at the ends of the hallways. They knew she was there but hardly ever spoke a word.

It took a few moments, but Jon opened the door. His curly brown hair was disheveled and his eyelids looked heavy. He blinked himself awake once he saw her.

"Sorry for bothering you," she said. "I couldn't sleep."

He rubbed his tired eyes. "Do you wanna come in? I have a fire going. It's warm."

She peeked through the door and saw there was in fact a fire burning away at logs in the fireplace.

Jon closed the door as she walked in. They didn't actually move for a few moments, they just stood there. She eventually walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. Jon followed and sat behind her.

"It's early. Have you slept at all?" Jon asked her.

"Some," she looked over her shoulder and smiled at him sadly. "I missed you so much in Braavos. I never thought I'd ever see you again. It feels so strange being back here. I don't feel like myself anymore."

"You aren't who you used to be." He admitted. "None of us are... and there's no point for us to pretend to be gullible children if we know better."

Arya looked down, considering what she was about to say for a moment. "Is it bad that I don't feel bad for what happened to Sansa. I respect who she is today... but... every time I see her, I just see the girl who would bully me and call me names and fawned over Joffrey. I see the reason father's dead."

Jon was silent. Arya refused to look around and see his face. She felt horrible. A tight feeling in her stomach, sickness creeping up her throat and her foot shaking against the cold wooden-planked floor.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and started to stand up. "I shouldn't have said anything—"

Jon grabbed her arm and pulled her back down onto the bed, this time facing him. His fingers lined the frame of her face and tucked some dark brown hair behind her ear. "Don't apologise. I get like that too sometimes but I have to remember that she isn't that little girl obsessed with romance and singing... she's a completely different person now and she should be treated like one."

She smiled at him warmly. "I'm not surprised your namesake is Jaehaerys when your spouting words of wisdom like that."

"Oh, shut it,"

"Of course, Jaehaerys,"

He fell forward on his bed, burying his face in the pillow to muffle his laughter.