[Chapter Size: 4200 Words.]

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  Third Person POV

  North, 297 AC.

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  The day, Maester Luwin was heading to the Winterfell library to fete books before starting his day when he came across an Arctic guard stationed inside. Curious, he approached upon seeing Arya, who was engrossed in some tomes, reading them on a table in front of the woman who served as her guard. Despite the guard already watg him, the maester of Winterfell decided to speak to her. Since Arya had arrived, they hadn't exged a single word.

  "Arya, I see you're ied in Northern legends," he ented, notig the titles of the books she had set aside o her.

  Arya paused her reading and looked at Maester Luwin, smiling. "How are you, Maester Luwin? I hope you've been well after all these years..." she said. "I saw you yesterday in the courtyard and even at the ba, but I didn't have the ce to speak with you." Arya had fond memories of Winterfell's maester, so she spoke to him amicably.

  "That's true. I just didn't expect to find you here while the sun is barely rising... And what are you searg for?" he asked curiously, smiling.

  "Well, I wao learn a bit about what happened during the Long Night, 8,000 years ago. I'm expl what Winterfell's books have to say about it," Arya expined.

  "Iing and curious, Lady Arya. Jon had the same questions more than seven years ago..." he murmured, scratg his . "In any case, breakfast hasn't been served yet. Your father asked me to test you and see how your knowledge stands now, and knowing that Jon taught you, I'm curious to find out if you're as sharp as that eleven-year-old boy back then. Would it be all right if we talked for a bit?" Maester Luwin asked.

  "Of course, Maester Luwin. We talk," Arya replied, nodding.

  As they versed, the maester inquired about Arya's education and whether she had truly acquired everything said about Artica. During their discussion, Luwin couldn't help but be impressed by Arya's knowledge as they delved deeper into their versation, with Arya revealing much of what she had learned.

  Later, Arya found herself having breakfast with her family again in the main hall. Septa Mordane's chair was empty that m, signaling that she had indeed left Winterfell. Arya ate calmly, without any flict with her family, while chatting with Bran and answering some of her mother's questions.

  "Arya, let's go to the courtyard," Bran suggested, but Catelyn was quicker.

  "Sorry, Bran. But I'd like to take your sister to do some sewing. Besides, don't you have lessons with Maester Luwin this m?" Catelyn said in a serious tone.

  Bran pouted, but Arya said nothing. She knew she couldn't avoid it forever and agreed to go with her mother.

  In the end, Arya went to the sewing lesson with her mother, sister, and Sansa's friends. Mearin and Jill apanied her to the room, a pce Arya hadn't stepped into for a long time. Back then, she was sidered inpetent and even wild when it came to skills with needle and thread, among other dy-like talents.

  Mearin seemed a bit out of pce, looking at Arya. Certainly, he wasn't used to that setting. Arya sat with her friend in a er, apart from Sansa's friends, who were oher side. Catelyn, as always, occupied the ter. Jill stayed ihe room, while Buri was left outside, expelled by Jill herself.

  Usually, the activities would be led by the septa, but since she was away due to personal matters, as Arya would put it, her mother broke the silence.

  "Well, Arya. Let's make a dress. You said you practiced elsewhere, didn't you, daughter?" Catelyn asked, her attention focused on Arya.

  "Yes, Mother. I learo embroider a bit with the Arctic dwarves," she replied. After all, the dwarves were very skilled with needles. While the men were adept with hammers, some of the dwarf women traded needles for hammers. However, most preferred sewing. It was no surprise that most of the fabrid clothes produced in Artica were made by them, as human women preferred w in the harvest, and the giants weren't particurly good at sewing...

  Saying that dwarven women had taught Arya made Sansa's friends g each other, while Catelyn seemed a bit lost. Sansa and her friends wao ugh but forced their lips shut, thinking Arya couldn't possibly have learo sew in a wild nd, especially with the notion that she had learned from dwarves. Their idea of dwarves was rooted in the Westerosi cept, not the Arti race. But Arya didn't mind.

  "Well, shall we begin?" Catelyn asked. "I'd like to see how you're doing, daughter. So, I'll help you," she said.

  Despite all the fusioed the day before, Catelyn still wao help her daughter. Arya merely nodded and began w with the threads, moving her hands suddenly with great speed after pig up the fabric she had brought to the room. She wao use the materials she had purchased in Myr.

  The way Arya started threading, passing ohread over another, was surprising. She easily maneuvered the needle from the other side, seeming to pierce the fabric as she began tying a knot. But no one in Winterfell had seen anything like it—except for Mearin, who knew how Arya sewed this way to finish faster.

  The girls looked horrified, as if she were simply ruining the threads at first. "Arya..." Catelyn murmured cautiously.

  "Mother, I'm doing what I know. Don't worry. Just wait for the final result," Arya said as she tinued w on what would ultimately not be the dress her mother had wanted. Instead, she inteo make somethier.

  No ohere seemed able to keep up with her pace, except for Mearin, who began sewing calmly, in a manner different from Catelyn, Sansa, and her friends. They tio watch Arya as she worked on the garment, though they were not as frozen as the other women.

  "That's not a dress," her mother quickly noted. Arya smiled.

  "No, it's not. I'm making a cloak for Father," she replied, tinuing to sew, crafting the first part of the cloak. Her mother, though frowning, said nothing a her daughter work, notig how carefully Arya pced every thread.

  Arya kept building the fabric, leaving an opening at the bad spa all sides for the final finishing.

  "Incredible. It's well-stitched," Catelyn ented, almost unbelieving, as she touched the fabrid felt its texture, astonished by what Arya had just crafted shly. The girls were also a bit stunned.

  "Jill, could you hahe box with bear fur we brought?" Arya asked. Jill retrieved a small box they had brought along with the fabrid pced it beside Arya. She took the bear fur, which was a bit scattered.

  They had skinned a bear on their way to Winterfell, and Arya had decided to keep its fur, which she now inteo use. She began finishing the cloak, lining the entire inner part of the fabric, particurly the edges, with a thicker finish for the shoulders, making it very furry. Where she had left the opening, she used a different thread, a gray distinct from the bck of the cloak, and began sewing, creating the Stark sigil. It was a winter cloak, very warm, now lined with bear fur.

  Everyohere, who hadn't even finished half their dresses and po work through the entire m, watched as Arya pleted her cloak. Meanwhile, Catelyn, who had hoped to have a pleasant versation with her daughter, ended up simply Arya's swift and unventional movements as she sewed. Ihan three hours, Arya had finished her cloak, presenting a unique piece.

  "I think I'm done. May I go to the courtyard?" Arya said, standing up immediately. Her mother looked at her, speechless.

  "Well, I'd hoped we'd talk a bit more," Catelyn murmured, still surprised by the quality of the cloak Arya had made.

  "We leave that for the ing days, Mother. I o see my people and my brothers this m," Arya replied. Catelyn, too stuue, simply nodded.

  "Let's go, Mearin," Arya said, fshing her characteristic smile. The red-haired woman also stood, leaving the unfinished dress behind. She had maintaihe same pace as the other women to appear less hurried, deg to finish it another day. After all, she had no desire to stay among the southern women.

  Meanwhile, in Lord Stark's sor...

  "So, she has knowledge in various areas," Lord Stark said, addressing Maester Luwin. He had just heard about Arya directly from the maester after their versation in the library and was deep in thought.

  "Yes, Lord Stark. She shows great promise. She has extensive knowledge of all the houses and even the history of Westeros iail, as I could dis. Though I didn't have much time to speak with her, there's no doubt she received a remarkable education. She speaks five nguages! For a fourteen-year-old girl, that's extraordinary. There's no one like her ieros, I assure you," Maester Luwin replied.

  "I see. At least Jon truly took care of her," Ned said, his tone reflective.

  "Now that she's here in the North, we explore more of her knowledge. Perhaps she could even help her siblings if we involve her in their lessons," Maester Luwin suggested.

  "That's an excellent idea. Start her with them tomorrow," Ned agreed.

  At that moment, a knock at the door interrupted their versation. Jory entered and announced, "Your daughter is here, Lord Stark."

  Though surprised, Lord Stark was quick to respond. "Ask her to e in," Ned replied, nodding.

  "I'll leave you two alone," Maester Luwin said, exg himself from the room. Shortly after, Arya entered, carrying the cloak in her hands.

  "Father, I made this for you," she said with a smile. ood to examihe gift, clearly surprised.

  "This looks wonderful. And with winter ing, it will be very useful..." he remarked, admiring the fabric before embrag his daughter. Taking advantage of the moment, he added, "Arya, sit down. I'd like to talk privately now that we have a ce to do so without the distra of travel."

  She nodded, and he hung the cloak on a ra the sor. Sitting across from his daughter, he began.

  "Well, you know Jon was here, don't you?" Ned asked. Arya nodded.

  "Yes, I know that very well. He told me what happened," she replied. "And believe me, if he had punched you, you wouldn't have been in good shape," she added with a faintly ironic smile.

  Ned sighed, refleg on her words. "Yes, your brother wasn't very happy with me back then, and I uand him. Holy, I'm still not sure if he is, and I wouldn't bme him..." he fessed.

  "He's not my brother; he's my cousin. So stop calling him that," Arya corrected firmly. "But I still love him and uand his anger. You were negligent with him here," she tinued, pausing as the room fell silent.

  But Lord Stark broke the sileh a weary tone. "I think you're right," he admitted. He knew he could have improved his retionship with Jon, but his fears had led him to let the boy suffer. "I only hope to see him one day and have the ce to apologize. My sister made me promise to protect him, but I failed. I don't want him to think I ed him until the end of our days," he said, fearful of never seeing Jon again. The idea that everything had ended with that crypt argume a bitter taste in his mouth. He hadn't told anyone what happehat day, and Arya was the first person he fided in.

  Wanting to move on while Arya remained silent, he ged the subject. "Anyway, are you going to tell me what happened in Dorne? I don't think Jon kidnapped a girl so easily..." Ned asked, trying to uand the situatioer. He had heard from Lord Wendel, who reyed Arya's at in White Harbor, but everything seemed fusing.

  "Well, he married her," Arya replied. "And she regnant with his child, which is why he captured her. But she's not a bastard as you think, Father. She is Rhaenys Targaryen, Elia's daughter. She survived the Sack of King's Landing."

  Ned widened his eyes, stunned. "She survived? But how is that possible? I saw her burned body myself, brought as proof of her death," he murmured, recalling the horror of that day.

  "I don't know the details, but Oberyn Martell mao rescue her. He probably staged it with a false body, anirl..." Arya replied.

  Ned nodded slowly, remembering how it had enraged him, prompting him to seek justice against the Lannisters, even fronting Robert, who had simply dismissed the children, calling them mere dragon spawn.

  "Well... I say I'm gd. But then, Jon married her," Ned remarked, still surprised. He couldn't help but feel a certain disfort with Jon embrag such a peculiar Targaryen tradition.

  "Not just her," Arya corrected. "We took Daenerys Targaryen during our jouro Essos and separated her from her foolish brother. He wao sell her to the Dothraki in the desert, but Jon intervened. Both Targaryen womeh him now, and Jon pns to marry Daenerys in Artica..."

  "So, he has four wives?" Ned cluded, thoughtful.

  "Five," Arya interjected. Ned looked at her, surprised, but she tinued, "Jon got into a fight in Yi Ti, but there's something I haven't told you yet. Princess Hiyori of Yi Ti was brought to Artiarry Jon, with Jon being hailed as a hero of the empire oher side of the world..."

  "Five wives? Well, that seems unusual even for the Targaryens," Ned murmured, shaking his head. Arya simply shrugged.

  "What I say? Jon has decided he's going to have a big family," she replied, looking at the table.

  A heavy siletled between them for a moment before Ned broke it again.

  "About what happened in Winterfell when Jon came here st time... there's ohing. Jon has a... doesn't he?" Ned asked, swallowing hard. Arya uood what he meant.

  "If you're talking about a dragon, yes, Jon has one. An adult dragon," she replied, omitting information about Jon having more dragons. Arya khat could be used against Artied hough relutly. He had to accept what he had seen: the creature flying overhead, its wings slig through the air—obviously a dragon, as he had suspected. Hearing it firmed made him tremble internally. Jon was already strong enough, but now, with a dragon and more Targaryens... A fight could arise, but he didn't have time to dwell on it.

  Once again, Ned broke the silence. "You know, when Jon was here in Winterfell speaking with me, he left some projects with Luwin. Luwin said you might be able to help since you have knowledge of agriculture," Ned said. Jon had given some ideas to implement in the North when he was just eleven, and they were already yieldis. Perhaps, with Arya's help, they could improve them further.

  "Of course. Let me see them," Arya replied with a shrug.

  Ned began pulling out the dots, and the two delved into a discussion about the projects. He used the opportunity to ask questions about Artid its agriculture while they worked together.

  By te m, Arya left her father's sor to speak with her men. She ahe camp and checked on how they were adapting, ensuring everything was in order. Afterward, she returo Winterfell's main hall for the midday meal.

  Iernoon, Arya took her two younger brothers outside the walls, much to their mother's sdalized disapproval. They went, and it didn't take long before the direwolves appeared amidst the Arctic camp. Bran and Ri were ented by the massive creatures. Though the wolves were friendly, they didn't allow Bran to climb on them as he wanted. heless, the boys petted the wolves, marveling at their size and majesty.

  Ba Winterfell, Arya returo the courtyard, where she saw her brother Robb training with the others. He was helping Bran shoot the bow again. The se remained peaceful until an irritating voiterrupted.

  "Hey, Arya! I heard you killed people on your way here. Hard to believe. Why don't you e fight with us and prove it?" Theon Greyjoy said in a provocative tone. Arya gred at him.

  "Theon, I won't let you provoke my sister like that," Robb said, trying to defend Arya.

  But Arya stepped forward, wearing a challenging smile. "Well, you try. Though your hand is still injured from what Jon did over seven years ago. you even handle a sword?" Arya taunted.

  The ent wiped the smile off Theon's face, repg it with an expression of anger as he gred at Arya. The provocation had clearly hit its mark.

  "What did you say? That I 't beat a woman? Is that what you're saying?" Theon growled.

  "Theon, I'm not going to let you talk to my sister like that!" Robb said again, trying to defuse the situation.

  "She's provoking me, Robb! I won't stand for it," he snarled. Before Robb could intervene, Arya was already stepping closer.

  "Let me fight him. Since he loves to talk so much, let's see if he back it up in a fight," Arya said calmly, as she grabbed a training sword from a nearby basket.

  "Arya, I 't let you fight like this. Your father wouldn't approve," Ser Rodrik approached, ed. Most of the training sessions had stopped as the others turo watch the unfolding argument.

  "It's fine. Only what I handle is allowed, so don't worry," Arya replied, watg as Theon angrily picked up araining sword.

  Ser Rodrik sighed, resigned, but decided he would intervene if Arya was in danger. He knew Ned would never let his daughter get hurt, but he silently thahe gods that Lady Stark wasn't on the baly—this would have caused an uproar.

  "Very well, but if it gets out of hand, I'll stop this fight. Uood?" he said, looking at both sides. He observed Theon, whose expression was full of fury, while Arya seemed entirely calm. Robb, oher hand, was visibly worried. He feared that if Theon hurt Arya, he would be held responsible. Despite the rumors about his sister, Robb still didn't fully believe Arya could defeat Theon, especially wearing a dress.

  As soon as Ser Rodrik sighe start of the fight, everyone was shocked. Theon attempted to attack Arya, but she quickly tered, striking his legs with precision and causing him to fall to the ground, groaning in pain.

  "Well, that was quiow get out of my sight," Arya said disdainfully, as Theon clutched his leg, staring at her in disbelief. Everyone around was stunned—even Ser Rodrik was at a loss for words. Bran, however, was thrilled and rao Arya.

  "You..." Theon, still on the ground, gred at Arya with hatred, but before he could say anything, a deep voiterrupted him.

  "Go on, boy. Keep talking, and you'll lose your head," Buri, Arya's royal guard, said from beside Theon. The Ironborn man looked up, startled and fearful of the guard, who stood still but clearly ready to draw his sword and kill him if necessary.

  " we end this now?" Ser Rodrik excimed, trying tain trol of the situation before it escated further. "Theon, leave now! Take him away," he ordered a few men, roached Theon and escorted him out, dispersing the temosphere.

  "Well, why don't we tinue some training, Robb?" Arya suggested, turning to her older brother, who looked stunned but was now beginning to process what had just happened.

  The silence was broken by Bran, who excimed excitedly, "Robb, fight Arya! She beat Theon so easily. I bet you 't beat her either!"

  Robb, finally snapping out of his shoodded. He grabbed a sword and walked over to where Arya stood, already prepared.

  "Let's go, Robb. I won't be as cruel with you," Arya said calmly, fshing a smile.

  "Don't get too cocky, Arya!" he excimed, readying his sword.

  As soon as Ser Rodrik sighe start of the fight, the two advanced, wooden swainst wooden sword. Arya wasn't as aggressive as she had been with Theon, making the fight more banced. Robb, however, was surprised by his sister's skills. She kept up the pressure without leaving any openings for him to attack. It was a trolled, well-matched duel.

  Robb tried to create an opening, but he soon realized his sister was skilled enough to defend herself and attack with precision. While he relied on his strength, Arya remained calm, as if she didn't sider him a serious oppo. This began to frustrate him.

  "You're pario him, aren't you?" Robb said suddenly, almost unsciously. Arya raised an eyebrow.

  "Are you talking about Jon?" she asked. Arya truly had no iion of humiliating him. For her, this was just a friendly spar. However, sihe subject had been brought up, she knew she'd have to address it eventually.

  "You know I'm talking about him! You're pario him again!" Robb excimed, trying to strike her harder.

  "I'm not doing that. After all, you are you, and Jon is Jon," she replied, parrying his attacks. But then she added, "However, I see that guilt and jealousy are ing you, brother."

  "I'm not jealous! Nor do I feel guilty!" he snarled, growing mgressive. Ser Rodrik, atg the fight, grew ed as he noticed Robb beginning to lose trol.

  "You know," Arya tinued, remaining calm as she parried his attacks, "I've hought of you as a bad person. And I still don't. However, there are sins you've been part of, Robb, that are hard to ignore. You are the oldest wolf of the litter, and the geion of Winterfell looks to you for leadership. But you acted without honor," she said, tinuing to block his furious strikes.

  "I am an honorable person!" he shouted, his voice rising, now drawing the attention of everyone nearby.

  "Are you sure about that?" Arya asked, raising an eyebrow as she tio fight. "You know that even if you didn't create the chaos, you were still part of it. You ed to tell our father the truth, and we lost a brother that day. All because you refused to take responsibility for something you and Theon were involved in, finding support with our mother, fueling the hatred she harbored for Jon, simply because he wasn't her child. Do you truly feel honorable about that?" she asked with mockery.

  Arya spoke as she defended herself, the sound of wood g against wood eg through the courtyard. The battle seemed banced, and more and more people gathered, surprised to see the you Stark daughter holding her own against the heir of Winterfell.

  "That's not true!" Robb shouted again, his voice carrying for all to hear, as he tried to strike Arya once more. But Arya decided it was time to end this. Her brother was already out of trol, and even Bran's once joyful face was now filled with worry as he watched.

  With a swift motion, Arya struck Robb's hand, causing him to cry out in pain and drop his wooden sword. Then, she hit his heel with force, elig another shout. Robb fell to the ground, clearly defeated.

  His gaze met Arya's, who looked at him firmly. "There's still time for redemption, brother. If you don't, you'll dishonor the Starks and never be a true Lord of Winterfell while you tio think like a Squid or even a Trout," she said. "You're a wolf of the North. Don't let jealousy e you, brother. In any case, ht is over."

  Arya turned and walked away as Robb, without saying a word, slowly got up ahe area.

  "Robb!" Ser Rodrik called out, but Robb didn't respond, leaving with his head bowed.

  Meanwhile, Bran ran up to Arya, jumping around her in admiration. "Arya, you're amazing! You beat Robb!" he excimed excitedly.

  "Bran, step aside. The fight isn't over yet. I need another one," Arya said, turning to Ser Rodrik. Bran was surprised to see his sister finally uhing Dark Sister.

  "Ser Rodrik, I recall us talkierday about a fight. Why not settle it now? A steel duel. Don't worry about me; after all, I'll take it easy on you," she said, fshing a smile.

  Ser Rodrik was stunned, while those around murmured in astonishment. Finally, after what he had witnessed, he nodded and accepted the challeepping to the side to retrieve his sword and prepare for their duel.

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