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A Game of Thrones: Fury and Flame by JMIII

Avatar: Last Airbender & A Song of Ice and Fire Xover Rated: M, English, Fantasy & Drama, Mai, Azula, Stannis B., Eddard S./Ned, Words: 253k+, Favs: 822, Follows: 776, Published: Sep 2, 2016 Updated: Dec 17, 2020

455Chapter 4: (Winterfell) Arya I

(Winterfell: 2/12/295 AC) Arya I

'Faster, faster!' she thought to herself.

Arya Stark propelled herself through the courtyard, past the old well, and the smithy, in a rush to get to the Great Hall where her parents were breaking their fast. As she ran, several smallfolk and house servants had waved, and greeted her, some shouting words of warning "Careful Lady Stark!" With the cold wind biting at her face, Arya increased her speed. She was intent on hearing whether the whispers of receiving a ward from Dragonstone had been spoken true, and she needed to hear it from her parents herself. Arya had caught wind of this exciting development when she had 'accidentally' eavesdropped in on the hushed conversation her older brothers were having in regards to the subject. They had been heading out of the Great Keep, towards the Great Hall, to break their fast.

"What do you think Robb?" she remembered her brother Jon asking.

"Her mother is the Savior of Storm's End. Reportedly a great warrior with an even greater mind. Or was it the other way around?" Robb had responded, before continuing. "Her brother, Steffon Baratheon, is well liked by the people on Dragonstone and the other Narrow Sea houses sworn to his father. He has been known to tour the lands of the Narrow Sea houses, and even some houses within the Stormlands. Her father, Lord Stannis, is fairly well known, and her youngest sister is as much of a mystery as the Lady Ursa herself," he had said, slumping his shoulders at his lack of information. "I have asked Maester Luwin if he knows any more of her, so as to not seem as much of a fool when she arrives, but no information has been forthcoming as of yet. However, if Lady Ursa is anything like her mother, father, or brother, she will be a formidable presence, and…" Before Robb had finished wording his thoughts, Arya, in her blind curiosity, had run into a wall. A small tapestry decorating the partition had come tumbling down noisily enough to reveal her position in the shadows.

"Arya?" Jon had asked.

Before either of them could react, Arya had shot out of the hall within the Great Keep, and into the courtyard.

The Underfoot burst into Winterfell's Great Hall, as several of the Stark household were finishing up their morning meals. Ser Rodrik had a brief choking fit in response to the sudden and surprising arrival of the little Stark girl. Her mother and father gave her a stern look, while Sansa gave her an annoyed glance, and she turned her head slightly down in shame.

"Apologies Ser Rodrik," she said, glancing up at him timidly.

"No harm was done," he responded in between his hacking coughs, "little one." He cleared his throat and gave her a smile.

She smiled her response and continued down the hall at a swift walking pace. She came up toward the head table where her parents and sister were and took a seat next to her father.

"Arya, you mustn't barge into a great hall like that," he said in a serious, and quiet tone before her mother added.

"It is unseemly for a Lady to enter as such," she said, as the Lord of Winterfell nodded his head in agreement.

"I'm sorry," she said wholeheartedly before her father let a small smile form on his lips.

"I take it from your excitement, you have heard?" he said, as a confused look formed on Sansa's face.

"Is it true father, really? Is the Lady Ursa coming? I must know!" she questioned excitedly.

"The Lady Ursa?" Sansa asked quizzically from her mother's side "Father? Mother? What is happening?"

The Lord and Lady of Winterfell exchanged looks and broke the news to their only two daughters.

"For some time, Lord Stannis, Lady Azula, your mother, and I, have been writing each other with raven and hawk, about hosting their daughter, Ursa, as our ward," her father stated, with her mother soon following up.

"They believe sometime in the North, away from the distractions within Dragonstone and from the rest of the south, would be beneficial to her," she said.

"What does she dress like? Is she pretty? Has she ever met the crown prince?" Sansa chirped her mutual excitement at having a Lady from the south as a guest.

Arya scoffed, before launching her own barrage of questions, "What does she know of the Grand Academy? Is she a warrior? Can she fight? What is her mother like? Is she like her? What have you heard of the Lady Ursa?"

Her father's expression turned slightly dark, "That remains to be seen, but if she is anything like her mother, then expect more excitement than you planned for…"

Arya's mother, Catelyn Stark, broke the uneasy silence that her husband had left, "Many of those questions you can ask of her when she arrives. All your father and I know is that she is…difficult. Also, she will be arriving, by horse, along the King's Road. However, her parents have given us their assurances that she is well aware of the consequences of presenting anything less than her best behavior while ward of Winterfell."

After that information had been passed to them, Arya and Sansa, had for the first time, shared a mutual feeling of anticipation while they waited for their new guest to arrive. Her sister, Sansa, would often speak of finally have someone her age to tell her of the South. Their mother did what she could with her stories about growing up in Riverrun, but they had eventually lost their magic. Even her tales of the tourneys, the feasts, the knights, and everything in between, could not liven them up again. Sansa had still appreciated them, of course, but the promise of fresh stories of courtly life in the south, from someone her age, brought out much hope in her.

Arya, herself, on the other hand, had quickly grown bored of all the knightly tales. She would seek out her father, or Maester Luwin, to learn about the Mormont women, their strength, and determination. About Visenya Targaryen, her dragon, her skill in battle, and how her wisdom brought about the formation of the King's Guard. Or the Princess Nymeria, and her conquest of Dorne. However, most recent of all were the stories of Azula Baratheon. The very much still living icon, of the strength women, and the feats they were capable of, had Arya enamored with the thought of one day meeting her. Her mother, like always, spoke of Azula not being the example to follow.

"She butchered defeated men who had been asking for mercy. She had dishonorably attacked men in the night as they rested. She holds the company of murderers, smugglers, and heathen fanatics," she remembered her mother telling her one day when she had come across her playing outside. She had been armed with a small stick and had haphazardly made her hair into a bun topped with a makeshift flaming headpiece when her mother had asked who she had been pretending to be. Her mother had told her, "The pretty maidens from the songs are the examples you should strive to follow. You should be more like Sansa."

She remembered that hurting and her eyes beginning to water. "But I don't want to be like Sansa. I want to be…like her…," she remembered whispering as she pulled out the small, leaf-made, flame headpiece from her messy hair bun. She stared at the headpiece pensively before her mother broke the silence.

"Arya?" she asked, concern lining her face. She placed a hand over her shoulder and asked again. "Arya?"

"Mother? May I be excused?" she remembered uttering sadly. Before her mother could answer Arya turned her back towards her and walked dejectedly back to her room.

"Arya?!" she remembered her mother calling out. To her mother's credit, she had realized her error, and Arya remembered being grateful that her mother had chosen not to follow her, or force her back.

That had been months ago, and her relationship with her mother, while warm again, had not been completely the same. But with news of Azula's daughter being ward, Arya had hope. With any luck the daughter of Azula Baratheon would be as she imagined her to be; strong, fierce, and a warrior. For now, though, she waited. Sometimes her little brother Bran would wait with her. He was eager to meet the two Flameguard reportedly traveling with Ursa, and he had hope, like she did with Ursa, that perhaps one of the Flameguard accompanying Lady Ursa would take notice and perhaps take him in as a squire. Even Jon and Robb would accompany her during her silent vigils. Most times, however, she was alone as she sat atop the battlements alongside the south gate. Always staring, whenever she could, southward down along the King's Road.

(Winterfell: 4/3/295 AC) Arya I

After nearly two months of endless waiting had passed, Arya saw a shadow fly overhead. It was larger than a raven's, and it headed towards the rookery, within the Maester's Turret, where messenger ravens would land. Arya ran. She ran down the steps of the battlements, through the stables, past the bell tower, and to the steps of Maester Luwin's home within Winterfell. He opened the door and jumped back slightly in surprise.

"Lady Arya? What…" he began before she spoke.

"Is it from her? What did she say?" She asked through labored breaths.

"She will be here in three days," he said, "She also requested some room within the armory, be set aside, for her Flameguard's weaponry and armor…"

Arya frowned before she saw Luwin smile.

"Oh, and her weapons and armor as well. Pardon me, my lady, I am getting most forgetful at my old age. Now I must go and inform your parents. If you will excuse me?"

"Of course," she said quietly. After he was out of earshot, she bellowed, to no one in particular, "YES!" and raised both of her arms in victory. Arya did not remember sleeping much those next few nights.

(Winterfell: 4/6/295 AC) Arya I

On the day of Ursa's expected arrival, Arya had awoken early. She rushed towards the Great Hall, to break her fast, and wolfed down her food before rushing towards the battlements, and standing watch at her usual perch. After several hours, Bran and Jon had joined her. Sometime after midday, when Bran and Jon had gone to the Great Hall for their afternoon meal, she saw them. Two black forms against the patchy whiteness of the King's Road. The trailing form was slightly larger and, as it grew closer, she came to realize was two horses leading a small carriage. Two individuals were riding along the front of it, one considerably taller than the other, and controlling the reins. The second, smaller form, was at the head of the small caravan, and in her heart, Arya knew who it was. It skipped a beat, and she rushed down to the Great Hall, to inform her family. Her family had all been expecting Ursa to arrive this day, so all had been presentable, and within minutes, they had all gathered near the south gate. They would show themselves together, as a gesture of welcome, introduction, and hospitality. Arya was eager to stand in her place between Sansa and Bran. A horn sounded and the gate opened. Arya held her breath before a young woman with a stern face rode in on her black, armored horse, the carriage trailing behind her. She stopped near the base of the gate and held up her hand in a closed fist. The carriage stopped, and she dismounted her steed, petting the unarmored side of its face, before stepping forward, away from it. Her dark red cloak, and deep black, shoulder length, hair billowed, in the slight breeze. The gust revealed a suit of black, gold-trimmed, leather armor, and boots, over red garments.

"Welcome to Winterfell, Lady Ursa," her father proclaimed, "treat our home as you would yours."

"Thank you, my lord," she said, bowing her head in respect. "I am honored to have you and your family as my hosts."

"The honor is ours, Lady Ursa," her father responded, with a smile, as he approached her. He held out his hand and guided her towards the rest of them. This is my wife, the Lady Catelyn.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Ursa, I hope your stay is comfortable and without incident," mother said before father moved on.

"This is my eldest, Robb," he said, and Arya saw her older brother's face grow slack, before he shook it off, nodded his head, and smiled stupidly.

Her father gave him a look, before continuing "This is my eldest daughter Sansa." As Ursa neared Sansa, Arya noticed Ursa being several inches taller than her elder sister.

'Hurry up and introduce us,' she thought to herself, her excitement growing with each family member passed.

"Pleasure to meet you, Lady Ursa," Sansa curtseyed, and smiled politely, if falsely. Arya knew enough of her sister to spot the differences between her genuine smiles, and her fake ones.

'Hah! Not what you were expecting?' her mind shouted in triumph. Her palms began to sweat, and before long, a shadow loomed over her.

"This is my youngest daughter, Arya," he stated, with a slight hint of amusement tugging at his lips.

She froze, staring at Ursa, those golden eyes piercing her soul. "Um…hello," she said awkwardly before mentally slapping herself, and Ursa moved on towards Bran and Rickon. All the while, Arya ran different scenarios in her mind, on how she had wanted to seem confident and impressive. She failed and felt miserable, too embarrassed to visit Ursa the rest of the day.

Chapter 952 - 4