A.N:Thank you to everyone who stuck through to the end! I doubt anyone will be happy or even satisfied with this ending, but I tried. I hope you enjoyed this read, it was such a pleasure to write this fic. I will continue my other gendrya fic now; the Taming of the Wolf , if you would like to read that as well. So thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy this last little wrap-up chapter :)

It took Arya two years before she visited King's Landing once more. Within that time, a betrothal for Brandon was already fixed. Luckily, she managed to forge a promising marriage with already young love. Brandon always had an infatuation with Elaine Oakheart ever since his six and tenth nameday tourney. They exchanged letters, and she even visited once with her family. In that visit, Ser Arys and Lady Elinor spoke to Arya and Gendry of a match, and after an approval from Brandon himself and Elaine's wishes, the marriage was set with a date. Lady Elaine was to visit in a year for the wedding, as she wished to spend more time with her family before she married the future lord of Storm's End. With each day that passed, the guilt built on Arya brick by brick. If only she could do the same for Lyanna, she thought.

Gendry tried to calm her, to soothe her even. He said everything was to be alright; there was nothing they could have done, Sansa would protect Lya and Cass, Aerion would be a good husband and a good king… No matter how sweet his words were, or how much she wanted to believe it, nothing soothed Arya. Even after all those years, Arya, a woman grown, was still as stubborn as the day she left Winterfell, and as willful as the North. When a raven arrived with a royal invitation for the six and tenth nameday feast of Lady Lyanna, the future Princess of the Realm, Arya had to accept. She cringed when she realized there was no mention of Cassana.

Cassana always wanted to go South. Cassana wanted to go anywhere. She wanted to travel all of Westeros, visit Highgarden, return to Winterfell to see the weirwood tree, look upon the waters of the Riverlands, walk on the stones of the Eeryie, dance on the sands of Dorne… when Arya offered for Cassana to accompany Lya, she literally jumped at the opportunity. With each letter she received from Cass, she wrote of how disappointing the capital truly was, of how kind Queen Sansa and Queen Daenerys were, and that Lya and Aerion were growing closer. Lyanna was always Arya's wiser and calmer daughter. She had Arya's look and all of her curiosity and willfulness, but she always made the smarter decision. Cass was Arya's more stubborn daughter. She took after the Baratheon appearance, and with that, their words. Ours is the fury. How she took after those words and made them her own, Arya was almost thankful it was Lya rather than Cass that Aerion chose.

A moon after the invitation was delivered to Arya and Gendry's hands, they arrived at the gates of King's Landing with Brandon in tow. Audric stayed with little Cella, as Gendry swore that there must always be a Baratheon in Storm's End. The last time Arya was at the gates of King's Landing with her husband and her son, she solely arrived for her sister's wedding. She did not ever expect or wish to return.

"Mother," Cass ran towards Arya when they arrived in the courtyard. She was almost unrecognizable. Eager to try new things, her hair was braided similarly to Queen Daenerys', a fashion made popular since her reign. She wore a blue dress that brought out the kohl lined color of her eyes, taken after her father's. She had the same beauty as mother and Sansa, Arya came to realize, because she is too beautiful to truly resemble me.

After Cass embraced Arya, she turned to Gendry who lifted his daughter up from her feet and into the air. When she returned to the ground, she was passed to Brandon who ruffled her hair and made a jape of how she could not even swing a sword in a dress like that.

Soon after, it was Lyanna who entered the courtyard. Unlike Cassana who was like a chameleon clinging to the Southron style, Lyanna held true to her mother's heritage. Her hair was still braided in a Northern fashion, as she had kept it in Storm's End, and her dress was still practical, despite the bitter heat of the city. In her arm was Aerion, who already looked like a man grown. He was almost as big as Brandon, but tall and handsome with deep lilac eyes and long silver Targaryen hair. The pair looked odd at first, a woman so much of the North and a man raised by dragons, but they seemed to balance each other. Behind the couple padded Shadow and Visenya, both almost as large as a pony. When Lya saw her parents and her brother, she smiled a sad smile and rushed towards her family.

She will make a lovely queen, Arya remembered Sansa's words. But Lyanna was not meant to be a queen. She was meant to be the daughter of Arya Stark and Gendry Baratheon, the young she-wolf of Storm's End. But all that was taken from her the day Aerion set his eyes on her.

The feast and celebration was nothing short of what was expected. Lyanna requested nothing too ostentatious, but King Aegon insisted that such a celebration was to be made for the future queen's coming of age. There was music and dancing and a surplus of food. Cassana and Lyanna both sat next to Arya and Gendry telling of their stay in King's Landing. All Cass said was already known from her letters; King's Landing was a bitter disappointment than what she expected, it smelled of piss, and even Shadow did not like it. Lyanna said that a Bravoosi swordsmaster visited once and offered her lessons, but then he returned to Braavos. Brandon then interjected that he could still beat her in a sparring match, and she gladly accepted the challenge.

"What of Prince Aerion?" Brandon asked after taking a sip of wine.

Arya's smile faded once reminded of the true reason Lyanna was staying in King's Landing.

"Prince Aerion is kind and gentle and brave as a dragon." Lyanna spoke almost as perfectly as Sansa could have. "He plays the harp, and he even attempted to teach me some songs. Sometimes we spar together, and other times we walk through the gardens."

Lyanna spoke of Aerion as if he was not her cousin. Arya realized Lya must have trained herself not to. If she truly was to do her duty and marry the crowned prince, it would have been easier to do her best to forget she was marrying her cousin. In one of Cass' letters, she mentioned that Aerion truly was kind to Lya, and they grew closer each day. They might have been a good match, under better circumstances.

The rest of the night moved along nicely. Cass was asked to dance with Daeron, the son of Edric Dayne. Gendry was with Lyanna, and Brandon was talking to some pretty Southron lady. Arya watched them each, her family, and wondered how it all came to this. She never expected to marry the Prince that Once Was, or to marry at all. She never expected to be usurped by the Targaryens, and be made as Lady of Storm's End. She never expected to birth five children, each who she loved dearly. She never expected her daughter to marry the crowned prince, the son of Sansa and Aegon. Her life was one of many surprises, and she thought the gods must have been laughing overhead while they watched.

"My lady," A man cleared his throat and addressed her, distracting her from her thoughts. She looked up to see Edric Dayne smiling down at her. He was not the boy she remembered, the boy who once expected to marry her and who might have fancied her. He was a man with scruff around his cheeks and his lips, his pale blonde hair was cut shorter than she remembered, but he still had the same dark blue eyes that sometimes appeared purple under the sun. He was now married to Lady Aminah, and she birthed him two sons. Arya was once again hit with the reminder that she was no longer the young girl anymore. They were all adults and their children were now the ones they would watch to see if they made the same mistakes the parents once did.

"I remember telling you not to call me that." Arya said. She smiled. From what she remembered, Edric was once kind to her. He smiled as well and sat beside her, in the seat Gendry once occupied.

"It has been too long, but you are still as beautiful as I remember. Just as willful as well." Edric sighed, leaning back in the chair. She followed his gaze to see Cassana and Daeron laughing while he twirled her around.

"I remember your son dancing with my daughter at Brandon's six and tenth nameday as well." Arya said, recalling the same scene when they were younger.

"They do make a lovely match." He agreed. She looked from her daughter and then back to Edric. So that was what he intended; to bind together their houses and do what they were not able to.

"She is as willful as me, I admit." Arya said quickly, trying to sway away his idea. "She wishes to venture Westeros, sail across the Narrow Sea and back, look upon the bounty of Highgarden, and play in the snow of Winterfell. I wish for her to do what I was not able to. She wants to visit beautiful places and live freely." Or what Lya is now unable to, Arya thought bitterly.

"Dorne is a beautiful place." He said in a matter of fact tone, "The Red Mountains are quite magnificent, and Starfall has its own beauty."

"I am sure she prefers the North to the South."

"My son said that he would like to visit the North someday as well. Mayhaps they could travel together." When Arya did not reply, he leaned closer to her. "I know a good match when I see it. My son fancies your daughter, and your daughter my son. Do you not know of the letters they exchanged during her stay in King's Landing? Let us organize a betrothal, let my son do what I cannot."

Arya stood from her seat so she could look down on Edric. "I only was reunited with my daughter today after two years, and my other daughter is to be married off soon enough. What you say of my daughter's affections may be true, but I will not broker another marriage for my children so soon. Let her be my child first before she is to be a wife."

The next night they were summoned to Aegon and Sansa's solar. Brandon was already off with Lya and Cass in the practice yard. When Arya arrived with Gendry, she saw the uneasiness in Sansa's face, and the determination in Daenerys' jaw. Something was wrong. Prince Aerion sat in the chair beside Daenerys, his face braver than Sansa's. Aegon bid for Arya and Gendry to sit, and so they did. In Aegon's hands he held a parchment with the seal of the Night's Watch. When he handed the letter for Gendry and Arya to read, she noticed the handwriting as Jon's, now the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, and the King's half-brother.

"You cannot be serious?" Arya spoke quietly, her throat gone dry. Surely, she read the letter wrong. She glanced at Gendry, and he was just as shocked as she.

"White Walkers are threatening the Wall, and my half-brother is requesting help." Aegon said. His face was somber, matching Sansa's. "Lord Robb Stark has already called his banners. I am to take the dragons with me and Queen Daenerys and my son to the Wall. Fire and dragonglass will kill a White Walker."

Arya did not know why the King requested a private audience with she and Gendry. If anything, they could have been told along with everyone else.

"Your daughter is to marry my son before we leave. Should we fall, my daughter Daena will be regent until Aerion's son is of age."

So that was why the feast was so grand. It was rather a farewell feast. Gendry opened his mouth to object, and Sansa looked to Aegon as well. Apparently, even she did not know of Aegon's plans.

"Father," It was Aerion who spoke first. Each person looked at the young prince, the prince who was expected to be king so soon if tragedy was to fall. "I believe that mother would serve a fine Regent, should tragedy befall."

Arya was shocked. Was it not he who requested her daughter's demise? Arya held no love for her nephew after the betrothal was set, but mayhaps he truly did have some of his grandfather's honor.

"My love, I agree with Aerion." Sansa spoke sweetly, determined to change Aegon's decision. "I pray to the Old and the New that no harm shall befall you and Aerion, or Queen Daenerys, but should it happen, please do not force this marriage on your son and my niece. Let me serve as regent."

"Aegon," Daenerys was the next to object. Arya noticed she did not address Aegon with such love as Sansa, or even as her king. "I must agree with Sansa. Lady Lyanna is not ready; she is not even a princess as of yet, and is still a girl."

Aegon huffed, and without any words from either Arya or Gendry, he begrudgingly agreed. "Very well then." He then looked to Gendry, and Arya held his arm tighter. "Lord Baratheon, we will depart King's Landing within a fortnight for the proper supplies to be sent and gathered."

"You cannot let him take you!" Arya said as soon as they returned to their appointed chambers. They supped with their children in silence after they left the King's solar, and it was nighttime by the time they were left alone once again. When Brandon mentioned that he wished to march with his father to the Wall, Arya almost yelled her refusal. He was her son; he was not meant for war. But she realized she was so wrong; he was a man, the son of the Lord of Storm's End and the Daughter of Winterfell. Would he really be their son if he did not want to walk into an early death?

"Arya, I must." When Gendry turned, his brows were furrowed and his face as somber as when he left her for the Battle of Blackwater. "That is what marriage betrothals are for; alliances. Our daughter is to marry his son, and with their marriage, our house's allegiance."

"My brother has already called his banners." Arya realized she was in tears. The last time he left her, she thought he died by dragon fire with their son. Now both intended to leave her again. "You have already left me twice for battle, is that not enough?"

Gendry smiled a sad smile; a smile filled with distant memories and regret and love. He walked to Arya and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Did I not tell you so long ago? I will always return to my lady, as a stag to his wolf."

Time passed too fast and before she parted from their last embrace, he was already whisked away with the King's army. She forgot how war was like dragon's fire, burning all it touched.

Sansa's spare time was often spent with Arya, soothing the leave of Gendry for his third war, and ruling in the small council and court. Lyanna did her best to accompany Arya during her visits to the Godswood, Visenya trailing behind them. Lya would pray for her father's safe return, and for Aegon's victory, and uncle Robb and Bran's health in battle. The smallfolk were attempting to travel further South with the belief that the White Walkers will not stop after they destroy the Wall. Ships to the Free Cities were more filled, and few somewhat wealthy smallfolk managed to already be on their way to Dorne. She did not blame them. After offering the idea to Cass, she accepted, and Arya begrudgingly sent Cass and Shadow to Dorne with Daeron, attempting to get her children to whatever safety there was. She did not trust her youngest children to be so far South and away from her, and although she did believe there must always be a Baratheon in Storm's End, she could not let them stay so far away while their father was at war, and even King's Landing was believed to be too close to the White Walkers. She sent for them to be brought to King's Landing as guests at court visiting their sister.

Arya did not attend the small council meeting or court, as she did not have a place in either, but Sansa told her what letters they received from the North. Uncle Edmure sent his sons in his stead to defend the Wall, as he was too old. Margaery took Jessamine and Ned with her and travelled to Dorne under the pretense as a tour. However, Catelyn, ever so loyal, remained at Winterfell. She stayed and managed the castle and visited their father when she could, leaving flowers on his likeliness.

One night, three moons after Gendry left for battle, Sansa stayed with Arya in her solar. Arya just finished making sure Cella and Audric were asleep; Audric liked to hide in the libraries, and Cella liked to follow him. Sansa just returned from court, and each woman was ready to fall asleep. Sometimes they shared a bed like they did as children in Winterfell when Sansa wasn't being annoying.

"How far we have gotten, dear sister?" Sansa sighed, and turned in the bed to look at Arya. She had a faraway gaze in her eyes, which she often did when she was reminiscing the past. "I still feel like yesterday we were bickering in the walls of Winterfell, and as if you just threw a crumbling snowball on my dress. And yet here we are, awaiting our husbands' return from battle. I was married twice, one to a lord I learned to trust but he did not love me, and one to a king who I learned to love." When Arya did not reply, Sansa continued. "Do you despise me, Arya?"

"Why would I despise you?"

"I think I despised you for some time." Sansa admitted, remembering the days when she still thought as a young girl, so innocent, still a sweet summer child. "You were all I ever wanted to be; you were the queen, married to the king. You were with child, and I believed I would never bear any children. You had love, and I believed I would forever be in a loveless marriage." She took a breath and turned away, staring at the dark ceiling above their bed. "But then my husband came and overthrew yours. Now my son will be the King, taking away what would have been your son's legacy. Do you despise me for that?"

"I often think upon what would have happened if your husband stayed in the Free Cities. Or even if he was the child who died during the sacking of King's Landing." Arya spoke softly, and noticed Sansa's cringe when she mentioned her husband's assumed death. "I wonder if father would still be with us, or what life Brandon would be leading now. But then I realize that everything is as it should be; you as the Queen, your children expected to rule. It is a cruel way it worked out, but everything happened as it should have happened."

Arya did not know how much time passed until a raven arrived, carrying a letter closed by the Night's Watch seal. Arya summoned her courage to her heart. I am the daughter of Winterfell, the Queen that Was, the Lady of Storm's End, the She-wolf of the North, the Mother of Wolves, and the wife of Gendry Baratheon. You are as strong as a wolf, now you must be as stoic as winter. It was Sansa's delicate hand that tore open the seal for the two women to read together. The letter was written in Bran's neat penmanship, but the ink was heavy and she could feel the indentations where the quill was pressed to hard. The White Walkers were repelled, but the Wall was destroyed. Many were lost, and they must go North.

The caravans were gathered faster than anyone expected, and within a fortnight, ravens were exchanged, and three separate travelling parties departed. Arya sent for Cass to return to Storm's End, and Cass sent that Daeron was to travel with her for protection during the travels. Arya doubted Cass even needed any protection, but did not fret much on the matter. With half the men who travelled with Arya's family to King's Landing, she returned them with Audric and Cella. They were far too young to see the terrors of what must be the North after the perilous war with the Others. Aerion stayed in King's Landing while Sansa intended to go North. With Brandon and Lya, they joined the Queen's caravan and Arya rode inside the carriage with her sister, both offering comfort to each other.

When they arrived in Winterfell, nothing was the same as when she left all those years ago. No snowflakes touched the tip of her nose or dampened the sole of her boot, but instead ashes sprinkled the ground. The air smelled of death, and although the Others were repelled two moons ago, men were still shouting in pain from injuries, and supplies were still being handed out. Some bodies were still awaiting proper burial and a pyre, and were still piled atop each other in the outskirts of winter town. Arya grimaced and looked to her left, where Sansa was also peeking out from their carriage. She expected to see her sweet summer sister shivering and mayhaps even crying for the dead, but instead Sansa watched with a hardened face, as if nothing was in front of her. If anything, the steel in her eyes only made her more beautiful.

Robb greeted them with a hardened gaze. Arya remembered when they used to play in the snow together, when he would lob a snowball at her arm, and it would crumble off her tunic. She remembered when he and Robb would play together and hide and try to find each other when their father and lady mother would not notice. But the man standing before her was a survivor of two wars, a man hardened by the cold North, the Lord of Winterfell. People always said he looked like their lady mother, but now he was as stoic as their father.

"Your grace," Robb swiftly bent the knee to Sansa as they entered the great keep.. She turned to find Ghost padding towards her, the huge direwolf the color of frost and with eyes of fire almost tackling her to the ground. Under different circumstances, Arya would have laughed.

"Rise, brother." Sansa said. When Robb stood back up, she greeted him with a smile. Arya was not sure if the smile was for Robb, or for herself to prepare for the news which was to come. Arya stroked Ghost's fur whilst the greetings, Ghost almost calming her. "I do hope we brought enough supplies to suffice your needs."

"No amount could be enough, but it will definitely help the soldiers' hunger." Robb nodded, and ushered for Sansa and Arya to walk with him. Lyanna excused herself to help distribute supplies to the men. When they stepped outside again, the cold rush of air flowed through Arya's hair, the familiar feeling in her veins pulsed. But it was all so different now, burnt by dragon's fire. Arya did not engage in the conversation her brother and sister were having; they spoke of small things like supplies and how long it would take to rebuild Winterfell and the Wall. Neither wanted to speak of the real reason of their visit, or at least not yet. Arya was done of waiting.

"Where are my husband and my son?" Arya turned on her heel to look at her brother, her grey eyes piercing. She almost felt sorry for turning on her brother like that, to be so cold after such a battle, after so long, but she wanted no more waiting, she only wanted the truth. Sansa almost reprimanded Arya for acting so rash, but she held her tongue. She too wanted to ask of her loved ones, of her husband, of her own son, of Queen Daenerys. What was to be the fate of the Realm now?

Robb's face turned grim, his lips set in a fine line. "They are fine, Arya."

Invisible weights were lifted off her shoulders, and she was allowed to breathe once more after so long. But only now did she notice a thick scar on her brother's shoulder and that Ghost was clinging so heavily to Arya ever since their arrival. Her eyes widened, her heart dropping once again.

"Where is Jon?"

His body was covered by a thin cloth, a meek attempt to obscure his wounds. Arya did not notice she was crying until she felt Sansa's arms around her, a valiant endeavor to comfort her younger sister. The stab wounds were too much, and too deep. She could see where the blood crusted, and where the person who was supposed to clean Jon failed. She could still see his peaceful expression, as if he was forever in a deep sleep. Robb told her of how he died. He told her of how Robb himself was cornered by the Others, and was already injured by a deep gash on his shoulder to his collarbone. Jon seemingly came out of nowhere and saved Robb from the ambush, forcing him to flee. He was able to get his wounds cleaned and closed, but he found Jon's body lying cold on the snow, stabbed repeatedly. Robb was beginning to fall to tears as he retold the tale, and he had to stop.

Next to Jon his half-brother and aunt lied still, both also attempted to be arranged under cloth. The two dragons were laid peacefully on the stone, awaiting to be sent to King's Landing. Their hair was mingled together, a silver blonde tangle of mess. Their violet eyes were closed forever, and Arya did hope that they were in a better place now, where they were rewarded for all their hardships to return to the Seven Kingdoms. Sansa was the one to cry then, when she saw her husband lying on the stone. Robb offered to tell her of how they died, but she did not want to hear it, or at least not then.

"Where is my son?" Sansa asked, her voice barely a whisper. She tried to caress her husband's hand, but she only felt ice. Her second husband was dead, and she was a widow of two. Her first husband was a lord who fancied men more than women and her second was the gallant king she always wished for, to crown her with flowers and gold, but now he was gone as well. It was a cruel fate, one tainted by fire but frozen by ice.

"He is healthy and well. He fought bravely in battle, and his presence helped the morale of the men. He is helping to hand out supplies now, do you want me to take you to him?"

Arya managed to find her mother as soon as she exited the crypts. Her lady mother was holding a bundle of winter roses in her hand, the color of frost. No doubt she intended to visit her father and place the roses on his grave. When she saw Arya, Catelyn almost dropped the roses.

"Come to me, child." Cat beckoned and opened her arms in a warm welcome. Arya forgot how much she missed her mother's embrace. "How much you were missed, my sweetling."

Arya walked with Cat around the ruined Winterfell, and Cat told her of the hardships of living so close to the Wall during the battle, and how the survivors were taken here to heal. She then spoke of how much she missed father, and he would have known what to do. Arya hugged her mother again.

"Where are Bran and Rickon?" Arya asked finally. Rickon was knighted not long before the outburst of the Others, but did his duty and travelled to the Wall for the cause. Bran must have joined the Night's Watch by then, he must have survived.

Cat took Arya to Bran's chambers, where she found her little brother sitting on a wooden chair, his legs covered by a blanket. His once long curly hair was cut short, and he was still dressed all in black, like how Jon used to be, Arya remembered. Bran smiled weakly, beckoning for Arya to come close enough for them to embrace. How she missed her younger brother, how much she missed the North. Rickon arrived shortly after, hugging Arya from behind. Rickon was still handsome as the last she saw him, but he too was hardened by war.

"I cannot climb anymore." Bran stated dryly. A soft smile tugged at his lips, as if laughing along with the gods' humor. "I suppose I cannot help the Night's Watch anymore either."

"But you are alive." Arya reminded him. She sat next to her brother, and they talked until she realized that her mother and youngest brother left long ago. Bran told her of how after the King fell from his dragon, the dragon bowed to Aerion, and he rode him as fiercely as his father, burning every Other that crossed his path. According to bran Aerion was the true tipping point of the war. Arya told Bran of how life was South, of Brandon's six and tenth nameday, of his betrothal, of Lya's betrothal to Aerion, and Cassana's wish to travel around Westeros. She wondered if even after the war, her daughter still held the same dreams. There was a long silence until Bran spoke again.

"How is she?" He asked quietly. He did not need to elaborate, for Arya already knew of the woman he spoke of.

"She is beautiful like her mother, and kind like her father, but honorable like her grandfather." Arya assured him. She spoke of Aryanne sparsely in her tales, unsure of Bran's willingness, but he wanted more. She told him of how Aryanne was still kind to Lya although many blamed Lya for "stealing" Aerion from the Martell. She spoke of Aryanne's beauty, of her dark hair like his own and her green eyes like Myrcella.

"She would be proud of her daughter." Bran said, looking at the sky. "I only wish I could have been a better father."

Lyanna wrapped her cloak closer around her shoulders. She visited the North before, but she was so young. She barely remembered the cold, and especially now, when the North was so changed by the War. He helped her attempts to assure the men they had enough rations for everyone, but she knew it was not true. Aerion was the one that found her, the one that silenced the crowd and wrapped her in an embrace as warm as fire. She gasped and hugged him in return, but forgot she was not welcoming her cousin from war, but rather her betrothed. When they parted, she saw how changed he was. His once beautiful violet eyes were deeper, his cheeks sunken in. His once long platinum hair to match his father's was sheared similar to her own father's. The boy she saw off in King's Landing was gone. He was a man changed by the horrors of war, she even heard whispers that he was the Prince that was Promised. She even heard that her brother pulled a swords from dragon's fire and all Others fled. But she never did believe those tales.

"I am so sorry." He whispered to her. She cocked her head in confusion. Of all greetings to greet her by, he chose his first words so oddly. His eyes only showed regret.

"What is it?" Lya prompted.

He looked from the snow, and to her own grey eyes. "He is dead."

She shook her head. There was only one man she could guess of, but of all men, she doubted him the most to be in the war. She only managed a soft whisper, "How?"

"I know you were his friend, and you were so close to him. I tried to protect him, but he fell. Lya, please…"

Lya did remember her mother mentioning that some men left from Storm's End to the Wall, but she never expected Regis. He was her best friend, the only one besides her sister and brother that let himself fight with her. He was the first boy she believed she loved, the boy with the coal hair and the blue eyes of water, the natural born son of a natural born soldier. She remembered the day she forced him not to follow her, her last words to him. He wanted to run away, she remembered. How foolish they were, how foolish he was. But she did love that fool, that stupid boy. She finally let herself cry. Aerion embraced her in the snow, and her tears fell onto his shoulder.

It was nightfall when Arya visited the Godswood. Robb offered to send men with her, but she only scoffed and asked when did she ever need men to escort her to the Godswood. Ghost trailed behind her. She once thought that he would return beyond the Wall, a lone wolf, but it seemed that the albino wolf took to Arya as his new master. She did not mind. She hoped that Jon was with the gods, caring for Nymeria as well. Gendry found her by the heart tree, and Arya almost cried for the second time that day. The gods managed to return him to her three times after a war, and for that, she was forever grateful.

"I promised you," he said first, wrapping his arms around her. "I will always return to m'lady."

She thought of the first day she met him, when she hid under the dragon bones in the Red Keep. So much changed since then, dragons flew in the sky once more, the Baratheon Dynasty ended just as soon as it began, but she felt as if they were back to that day, when she was still five and ten when she wanted nothing more than adventure, and he nine and ten, destined to rule the throne.

She embraced him as well, and kissed him just as feverously as the day she first did. Ghost nuzzled against their feet, and she realized it was just as in her dream once, a long time ago; the wolf and her stag.