To Die For You If Need Be Chapter 24: The Wolf Returns

This is a Game of Thrones fic. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

This chapter has been edited due to content. If you want to see the unedited version GO HERE.

Sansa Stark

"We shouldn't be wasting so much food." I said.

"Lady Stark," A man who looked as if he would be fine during the winter said. "Some of us need the rations more. The smallfolk won't be the ones defending Winterfell against the undead."

"Who do you think is cleaning up your ****? Who do you think is cleaning your clothes and making your beds? Or do you think that is all done by the gods themselves?"

There was silence in the Great Hall as the man looked down in shame. They had wanted me to rule and rule I was. Once I wouldn't have been brave enough to be so defiant. But there had been too many wrongs done by actions I had taken or refused to take.

The smallfolk had no one to defend them but me. Of course it didn't matter what they provided Westeros, but the lords wouldn't understand such things. They couldn't comprehend the horrors of being without a castle or servants.

"The rations need to last throughout the entire winter." I said. "They need to last for everyone."

I looked at Brienne of Tarth and then back at the man who had defied me. The threat was clear to all those watching. If anyone dared to take more than their fair share, there would be consequences. I wouldn't allow my people to starve just so the lords could keep their bellies full.

"What about our fighters?" Another lord argued. "Should they wither away to nothing just so some common whore keeps her belly full?"

"And, pray tell, who kept your bed warm last night?" I asked.

"That has no-"

"If you wish to argue further, you can leave. But understand you do so as an enemy of House Stark. And we won't always be at war with the dead."

The lord quieted and the silence resumed. I loathed these weak men who would pretend to be concerned about issues just so their own selfish desires could continue to be sated. Littlefinger's gaze seemed to hint at that he disagreed how outwardly angry I had become.

He had a point. But could I truly be blamed for becoming stressed at such a time? For days now the lords had tried to argue their cases about deserving more rations or weapons. Each time I made sure to put them in their places.

After a time it had become too tiring.

A guard walked in and I held back a sigh of relief. Finally an excuse to get away from politics. Even being away for an hour would comfort me to no end. Whatever this man said couldn't be that stressful.

"You are all dismissed." I said and the lords slowly dispersed from the Great Hall.

"My Lady," The guard said once everyone but myself and Brienne were left. "A girl claiming to be Arya Stark is at the gates."

"My sister died." I replied but I dearly wished to be proven wrong.

"This girl has a direwolf with her."

Direwolves were rarely seen nowadays. The last sightings had been of me and my siblings' direwolves. The doubt had lifted from my mind and I felt relieved.

"Take me to my sister." I told the guard and he started to walk towards the gates.

My mind was a chaotic storm of questions. For so long I had thought that she was dead just like most of my family. Until Bran came to Winterfell, it had been left to just Jon and myself to carry on the Stark name. But now I could add Arya back to our numbers.

It took everything I had learned to walk with a quick and deliberate pace instead of the sprint that yearned to take me to her. Most of the smallfolk didn't look up from their tasks while anyone who could spare a moment looked at me. Word must have spread quickly that she had returned. Or maybe they were just bored. If word had gotten out quickly then Littlefinger could make plans. He wanted to control me and would certainly try to threaten Arya for that end.

That didn't matter now. All that could be dealt with in the future. For the moment I would spend time with my sister. No matter what I had felt for her before, she was one of the few family members I had left. That would surely make us closer than before.

"Sansa." Arya said with a smile that seemed more haunted than before and echoed the direwolf behind her.

The girl in front of me had changed into a young woman who was a shadow of her former self. Things had happened to her. Things that had twisted and turned her into something much different than before. Of course that same thing could be said of me.

"It is Lady Arya Stark." I told the guard. "You can leave us now."

"Yes, Lady Stark." The guard said with a bow and Brienne left with him.

"You really are a Lady now." Arya said and I couldn't tell if she was teasing me or not.

"I have to be." I replied.

Nymeria, the name came back to me along with the guilt, looked nervous about entering Winterfell. Could the creature feel the wonder I had once the Boltons were no more? Or was it something different?

"I'm sorry about what I did, Nymeria." I told the direwolf. "I was young and foolish."

"It isn't that." Arya replied. "If she wanted to kill you there would be no hesitation."

"Then what is it?"

"While we were separated, Nymeria formed a pack of her own. The others don't like to be walled up or interact with humans. She's confused on whether she wants to leave her pack or me alone."

Even if I decided to walk outside the walls now, Arya needed to be inside later. Now that she was home, there were things she had to do. If Littlefinger decided to try anything, his schemes would be completed easier if Arya acted like a wild animal.

"Can you tell her that you'll be safe?" I asked.

"No one is ever safe." Arya answered. "But I'll be safest here, Nymeria. I'll return."

My small sister petted the large direwolf before the creature raced off into the wilderness. I could tell that Arya wanted to race with her but she truly wanted to be here. No matter how annoying she could be, she was a Stark to her core.

I embraced her and felt tears go down my cheeks. My sister embraced me with a fierceness I had never known her to have. More tears came out as I knew such strength hid terrible scars. I should have been able to protect her. I shouldn't have sided with Joffrey over my own flesh and blood.

At least now I could make up for all my past wrongs.

"I didn't think I would ever see you again." I said once our embrace ended.

"I didn't know if I would ever return." Arya said and we made our way to the crypts. "I didn't know if I ever wanted to."

"You're a Stark."

"I wanted to avenge our family. Coming back here didn't seem all that important."

The image of Ramsay came into my mind. It was as clear as the night it had happened. The feeling of letting his starved hounds tear him to pieces was nearly euphoric. He had raped me night after night. It was only right that he should suffer by my hands.

How, then, could I blame Arya for seeking vengeance of her own?

"The important thing is that you came back." I replied and allowed myself to smile. "Bran is alive too."

"And Rickon?" Arya asked.

"Ramsay killed him. You don't need to worry about him, I dealt with that monster."

Arya looked surprised and I smirked. She wasn't the only one who had been forced to become stronger these past few years. I too had been forced to reckon with the true state of the world. I had been forced to adapt or be reduced to nothing.

"And Theon?" Arya inquired.

"Ramsay Bolton broke him. Last I saw he wasn't really a man anymore. Not like he used to be. I would take him at his cruelest over what has been done to him." I answered.

"What did Ramsay make him do?"

"Whatever sick thing Ramsay wanted done. When Ramsay raped me that first time...he was so broken he just stood there."

"How can you think kindly of him?"

"Soon after he helped me escape Winterfell. If not for him I would be dead now. The world isn't made up of shining white knights that are pure. Everyone bends and breaks at some point."

Arya was silent as we continued to the crypts. These dead couldn't hear me and it would be easier to know if someone approached us. My sister looked as if she didn't care about her surroundings, but something told me she was looking at Winterfell more intensely than I ever could.

After a few minutes of silence, we finally stood in front of our father's tomb. He had been one of the purest men in Westeros. No, he had been the purest. Even at his death, he had favored honor over his own safety. That was something I could never do.

To me survival was the most important part of my life besides my family. I wouldn't allow myself or my remaining blood to perish. I had seen too much cruelty in my life. Cersei Lannister, Ramsay Bolton, and Littlefinger stood out as among the worst. One of them was dead and the other two would follow. There wasn't a way for Daenerys to sit on the Iron Throne without killing the Lannister.

"He would be happy that you returned, Arya." I said with a sad smile.

"I hope he would be." Arya replied.

"How did you survive?"

"You remember the Hound?"

"Sandor Clegane protected you?"

The man was kinder than most, but he hadn't seemed like the type to be heroic. Most likely life hadn't gone as he had wished and the pair were forced to work together. He probably even guarded Arya due to wanting to get payment.

"I have a list of all the people I need to kill." Arya said slowly. "Doing so will gain vengeance for our family. His name was on the list for a long time but then...then it wasn't. He begged me to kill him at the end but I couldn't."

Arya had changed more than I could ever realize. Not only did she crave vengeance, she had a kill list. The list most likely was a way for her to keep enough sanity to stay alive. She looked at me as if she guessed I wanted to shiver and not from the cold.

"I never expected you to kill anyone." Arya said.

"Jon told me that Ramsay had starved his dogs for a few days." I replied with more pride in my voice than I wanted. "So I tied the bastard up and allowed the hounds to feed. I walked away before I saw the carnage myself."

"You still killed him."

"Our father wouldn't say that. He was very keen on people killing others themselves. He wouldn't find it honorable for me to hand the blade to someone else."

"Not everyone should have to kill."

That surprised me coming from her. She had admitted to having a list dedicated to killing those who had wronged our House. She hadn't shown signs of wanting to avoid bloodshed. She didn't seem ashamed of killing or wanting to kill. She didn't seem like the person who cared about the souls of others.

"I'm a killer, not a monster." Arya said as if reading my mind. "Looking back on things, it was good to have you believing the best of the world. I wanted to see that same girl."

"I wish that same girl still lived too." I replied. "So how did you train to become a killer?"

"I went to the House of Black and White in Bravos."

"You're a Faceless Man?"

My sister had changed more than I had even hoped to guess. She was serious about avenging our family as that was one of the most feared orders. They were assassins that cost more than most could ever earn. Their skills made all that gold worth it, though.

No other order could simply change their appearances and kill their targets without being caught. Arya had gone from a child playing at war to someone more than willing to kill on command.

Something wasn't right, though, as the Faceless Men didn't have the reputation of allowing one of their own to visit old friends and family members.

"No, you're not a Faceless Man anymore." I said. "I don't know how to protect you from that order. If Littlefinger was trustworthy I would ask him his opinions on the matter."

"They allowed me to leave." Arya replied. "I killed another of the order and was allowed to go where I wanted."

"The Faceless Men couldn't be so careless with their own members. You surely now know secrets they have kept for countless generations. They could be testing your loyalty."

"I can't abandon my Stark name. I left my vengeance down in the Riverlands, I can't leave Winterfell in my past too."

"So they did let you leave."

A shiver went down my spine. They must have realized how many people Arya would send to their Many-Faced God. Or maybe they had seen a future of...I didn't know how that mysterious order operated. It could be that the life of Arya was too unimportant for them to bother with.

"I'm glad you chose our family." I said.

"They tried to make me give up my name." Arya replied. "You, Jon, Bran, Rickon, and even Theon are too important to me."

I looked at our father's tomb and felt the loss. He had sacrificed his life to protect mine. He had sacrificed his life to protect his family. But in the end we had been spread out across the world. Those of us who lived were shadows of our former selves.

"I was there when he died." Arya said. "I feel like I could have done something to save him."

"You weren't trained by the Faceless Men back then." I reassured her. "You would've ended up dead too. I should have died for him but I didn't."

"He wouldn't have liked dying knowing you died with him."

"How can you say that? What has me being alive done for anyone? Rickon is dead, Littlefinger schemes, and Jon has made the North be a part of the Iron Throne once again."

"What has me being alive done to help anyone? No matter how many I kill, father and mother and Robb and Rickon will still be dead."

I didn't want her to be dead! I couldn't be left alone with no family! Not again!

"I don't want you to be dead." I replied. "It would be hard to go on knowing you're not there."

Suddenly I realized Arya had never said how she returned to Westeros. It must not have been anything to note but I was still curious.

"How did you return home?" I asked. "I doubt the Faceless Men paid for your journey."

"I managed to get enough money to pay for passage." Arya answered and then paused. "Do you remember hearing about Jorah Mormont?"

"The man that fled into exile with his wife? The man that is now one of Daenerys Targaryen's husbands? Yes, I know of him."

"They married?"

Arya stared at me as if trying to find a lie. There was a look that was hard for me to read. At the heart of the look was anger for a reason I couldn't guess. Eventually her look cooled and she calmly waited for my reply.

"Jorah is currently at the Citadel to find a cure for his greyscale." I said. "But Daenerys has already declared him one of her kings in case he survives. Why?"

"I saw him in Bravos shortly before I left." Arya replied. "He was stealing money for a ship. I gave him what he needed for a passage to Westeros. I don't know why I gave him the coin. He was nothing to me. He deserved to slowly die."

Some of what she said was true while other parts were lies. She had met Jorah briefly before leaving Bravos and given him money for passage to Westeros. But Arya knew why she had helped him. It was a reason buried deep in her mind. So deep she couldn't truly understand her actions.

"You're not a monster, Arya." I reassured her. "You would want to provide some comfort to a dying man. No matter how useless."

She turned away from me and looked at our father's statue. She was afraid of something and I didn't know what. I wanted her to tell me so I could reassure her of whatever she thought was wrong. She only needed to confide in me and I would keep her secrets.

"I guess I'm not a monster." Arya finally replied. "I'm not going to let someone die because of pure malice. The crimes he committed were done a long time ago. It would be wrong of me to punish him for them."

"He helped Daenerys free countless slaves." I said. "He worked with her to make certain that slavery now no longer exists in Essos."

"Father would like to see us like this." Arya said with a faint smile. "He knew back then that we needed each other. For so long I thought I could be a lone wolf. But I can't. I can't survive on my own."

"None of us can."