Part 1:

Arya awoke to the sound of screaming. It took her a minute to realise that it was her own voice, that it was her that was screaming. She abruptly shut her mouth and swallowed the last of the scream, almost biting her tongue in the process. She could still hear the sound of the Wall cracking and shattering. Still feel the magic breaking. She could still see the blue flame coming out of the dragon's mouth… But she wasn't at the Wall, she was at Winterfell. She was in her room, in her bed, surrounded by furs with a low burning fire in the hearth.

Who's eyes had she been looking out of? Who's face? It took her a moment to realise that she had been seeing through the eyes of Beric Dondarrion. Not just seeing through his eyes but thinking his thoughts. It was as if she had been wearing his face. The realisation sent a chill through her that not even the furs on her bed or the dull embers of the fire could chase away. Beric Dondarrion, who was on her list for selling Gendry to the Red Witch Melisandre for two bags of gold. Beric Dondarrion, who had died 6 times and been brought back with fire magic. Was that why the Many-Faced God had let her see through his eyes?

But the scream hadn't been his. The scream was from her, from some deep part of her that she didn't yet understand. She had felt pain as the wall had broken. She had felt something deep down inside of her break with it. The wall had always been a part of her, even when she was in Bravos. It was a part of why she hadn't been able to become no one. As soon as the thought crossed her mind she knew that she had always known it.

But there was no time for such thoughts. The wall had fallen, the Night King was coming. She had seen the army of the dead. Arya ran from her room not caring that she was half dressed, her bare feet a startling contrast to the loud thumping of boots from the guards who were running in their direction. She didn't have long. She didn't bother knocking on Bran's door, by the time she had gotten the door open he had pushed himself into a sitting position and was looking straight at her.

"You saw it too." It wasn't a question. Bran knew that she had seen it. His expression was unreadable as always.

Arya nodded. "Saw and felt it." Bran nodded and she knew he understood. "The wall has fallen." The words were quite but they travelled far enough to reach the ears of Sansa and Sam Tarly who had both come to investigate the noise. Lyanna Mormont wasn't far behind.

"Are you sure?" The panic in Sansa's voice was obvious, she looked even more pale than usual as she clutched her cloak around her tightly, but it was clear to Arya that the cold wasn't the only reason her sister shivered. Five guards had arrived now, in response to Arya's scream, and a couple of Lords of the Vale were close behind them. The hallway was starting to get crowded.

Arya shook her head at Sansa. "Don't tell me you didn't feel it." She answered in a harsh whisper. "Bran the builder didn't just build that wall out of ice and rock. There is magic in it too. Uncle Benjen always said. Magic linked to the house of Stark. Don't tell me something in you didn't break when the wall broke."

Sansa shook her head. "I can't believe…"

"You felt it." Arya replied, "We all felt it. Or are you more Tully than Stark?"

Sansa lowered her eyes. "I felt it." She whispered. Unable to take Arya's stare Sansa quickly turned her full attention on Bran.

Sansa and Sam started talking at once, both asking questions of Bran. Bran did his best to answer them but Arya was no longer listening. More of the other nobles had arrived now, and more guards. There was no time for debates. Arya made eye contact with Bran and he nodded. She slipped away back to her room to get dressed. This was not where she needed to be.

Arya was just securing Needle around her waist when she heard a tap at the door. She turned to see Lyanna Mormont pushing it open. Arya finished securing her sword and reached for the Valyrian Steel and Dragonglass dagger as Lyanna entered the room and closed the door.

"You're no waiting, are you?" The young Lady of Bear Island looked Arya up and down as she gathered her things.

"No." Arya replied. "By the time they finish arguing the Night King will already be here."

Lyanna nodded. "I can give you 20 men. They will ready in the hour."

"Then they will need to catch up." Arya replied.

Lyanna shook her head. "Somebody needs to get a message to Jon. Lady Sansa has too much to deal with. If you write the message I will send my fastest rider to him. If my men aren't ready by then they will have to catch up with you. The rest of my men will help protect Winterfell."

Arya frowned. "I don't have.."

"There is ink and parchment in my room." Lyanna replied.

Arya paused. "Who is your fastest rider?" For the first time that Arya could remember she saw Lyanna Mormont smile.

"Me." The young Lady answered with a slight bow.

Arya nodded and took one last look around the room. It wasn't the room that she had grown up in, she hadn't been able to go back to that room, she wasn't that curious hopeful girl anymore. She doubted that she would ever come back to this room either. She didn't expect to live that long. There was no heaviness as she closed the door. Death is not heavy, death is nothing. Valar morghulis, valar dohaeris. All men must die, all men must serve. She would serve until she died. She would buy Jon what time she could. The two young women walked in silence towards Lyanna's room.

And so the pact of the Blood Wolf and the Young Bear was made.

~~/~~

Somewhere south of the crossroads Jon Stark was suddenly jolted from sleep. He sat bolt upright so fast that Daenerys, who had been entwined around him, was almost thrown to the ground. His whole body was suddenly covered in a cold sweet. His breathing was heavy and ragged. He fought to control it. Fought to make sense of what he had just felt and seen. Each breath hurt as if he was breathing in ice itself, or fire. His chest burnt with pain. He could hear Daenerys trying to get him to tell her what was wrong, but how could he tell her? How could he make her understand that the Wall had just fallen? How could he explain to her that over a thousand years of magic had just suddenly snapped? How could he tell her that it was because of a dragon, her dragon? Viserion. How could he explain to her that the Night King had brought Viserion back? How could Jon explain that the reason he knew all this was because he had seen it through Viserion's eyes? That he had felt the blue fire blow out of his own lungs? Felt the Night King's will in his own head.

"Jon! Jon, look at me!" Daenerys was shaking his shoulders now. "Jon, what happened?"

"The Wall…" Jon whispered. "The Wall has fallen." He felt the hot tears streaming down his face. In need of some sort of comfort he pulled her close to him and buried his face in her shoulder as sobs started to wrack his body.

~~/~~

30 horses, 20 men and 1 Stark. It wasn't going to be enough. Even if they got reinforcements from every Keep and Holdfast going forward it wasn't going to be enough. They had been riding for 3 days and no other men had come. Arya had thought for sure that some of the northern Lords would have been shamed by lacking the bravery and resolve of a young woman and an even younger girl. She wondered how long it would take Lyanna to get to Jon. Or if Daenerys Targaryen would respect her request for aid and Dragonglass.

She hoped the young Mormont was safe, for the first time understanding how her own father must have often felt. She knew it was Lyanna's choice, she just hoped that the young bear understood the choice that she had made.

Arya stared into the fire as most of the men around her settled for the night. Lyanna had given her the most experienced of her men. Seasoned fighters, well disciplined. All of them old enough to have had children. The men of Bear Island were smart enough to show her respect. They knew how to be led by a woman – if that woman deserved to lead them.

She no longer said her list before going to sleep, that would have to wait. She had a new list now and there was only one name on it. "The Night King." She whispered the name into the fire.

"Arya Stark." The fire whispered back.

"Not today." Arya replied and laid down to try and sleep. As she started to drift of she wondered exactly when she had started to lose her mind. "Fire's don't whisper back." She told herself. She took one last look at the fire as she drifted off to sleep. For a moment she thought she could see Gendry looking back at her, but she knew that wasn't possible. When sleep finally took her it was filled with wolf-dreams. She dreamt of a giant direwolf pack, led by Nymeria, making their way towards the wall.

~~/~~

Gendry sighed. The Hound was snoring loudly beside him, a half empty wine skin clutched in his hand. Brienne of Tarth and Podrick were asleep on the other side of the fire. Podrick was sleep talking, mumbling something about ham and a misunderstanding. They were close to the crossroads. Gendry wondered if Hot Pie was still there. Wondered if he would see him even if he was. They had been marching longer and harder than ever the last 3 days. His whole body ached. What he wouldn't give for a horse.

Something in Jon Snow had changed. Gendry could see it. It was like the closer they got to Winterfell the more determined Jon got, the stronger his resolve became. Every pause, every delay made him more and more on edge. Gendry thought he was starting to behave more and more like his angry little sister. Maybe it was a Stark thing?

Gendry wondered how his life had become so crazy. Here he was in the middle of an army of Dothraki and Unsullied headed north to fight the army of the dead for a Stark bastard with a war hammer that he knew wouldn't do much good. Three or four years earlier he had been in almost exactly the same place with a young Lady of Winterfell and a cook. Clearly if he ever made it passed the Trident by foot he was going to die. Gendry decided that sailing North with Jon didn't count.

He stoked the fire up one last time. "Why are you doing this, Gendry?" He asked the fire. "What do you think you have to gain?" He looked into the fire for a long time but he already knew the answer. It would all be worth it if he got to see his Lady one last time. His heart broke again as he remembered how she had offered to be his family. How he had rejected the offer because he was too afraid to accept it. Too afraid to let her be that close and then watch her slip away, as he knew she would, once she got her real family back. Of course if he had known then what he knew now he might have been braver, he might have accepted her offer, for all the good it would have done him.

Gendry looked around at the surrounding fires, everybody close enough to hear was asleep. Some of the unsullied were keeping watch but they were too far away to be able to hear. The foreign one that called herself Missandei (Daenerys' hand maiden or servant, or maybe even her lover?) was sitting near a fire some way away but surely she wasn't close enough to hear. Gendry let the thought, the desire, linger a little longer before allowing the name to pass his lips in a wistful whisper. "Arya Stark."

The fire seemed to flicker and he could almost imagine he could see her. She would be older now, a woman. He imagined that he could see her in the flames, beside another fire. He imagined that she wore her hair half up, similar to how Lord Stark had worn his that day so many years ago. It would be longer now. He imagined she had a riding cloak on. The type that goes over one shoulder so as not to block your sword hand. She was left handed so it would be over her right shoulder. And she would be wearing pants, not a dress, maybe leather armour? She wouldn't like metal armour. She was all about speed and making herself a smaller target, about not getting hit… But she wouldn't be by a fire by the road. She was a Lady of Winterfell and that was where she belonged.

The Hound had told him that she had made it home. A small kindness, but a big act for a man that knew little of kindness. Gendry gazed into the fire for a while longer and let it play tricks on him before finally settling down to sleep. The last thing that crossed his mind before he fell asleep was the words of Melisandre.

"There is power in a kings blood."

~~/~~