Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper

Chapter 90: Sunset in the North, Surprise in Dorne

—At Winterfell—

Arya was feeling restless despite practicing her skills as a Water Dancer in Winterfell's main courtyard. Ser Rodrik and Theon were taking their sweet time at the northern most stronghold in the North, Last Hearth—once upon receiving a messenger raven informing them of Rickon and Osha arriving at Lord Umber's household. The new Lord of Karhold, Harald Karstark, was seemingly less than enthusiastic. With the birth of her newborn nephew Eddard—Robb and Talisa's son, 'Little Ned' she affectionately called him, Arya was more motivated to keep practicing her skills... to protect her family despite her mother forbidding her to do so. "*huff, huff, huff!*" she panted. "Not yet. Just a little more..." Balancing on her toes, Arya spun her body around twirling Needle in hand—moving gracefully through the mud; revolving through the motions of the Water Dance. "Left!" she called, dancing around as she slashed and poked at a wooden dummy. "Right! Left, right, right! Lunge!" Thrusting her small sword Needle forward, Arya pierced the practice target without breaking the tip.

"A girl keeps practicing," someone said.

Startled, Arya quickly spun around and pointed Needle at the person standing behind her. Much to her surprise, she recognized the man as Jaqen H'ghar; the mysterious assassin she met at King's Landing a long time ago had somehow managed to find his way to Winterfell undetected. How did he find me? How'd he get past the guard? she thought. "What are you doing here?"

Jaqen, disguised as a Winterfell man-at-arms, found Arya's confusion quite amusing. "Waiting for you," he answered honestly.

"How did you slip past the guards? Was it hard?"

"After all the things you have seen, this is your question? How a man trekked through miles of mountains, hills and snow is no harder than taking a new name, if you know the way."

"Look, I appreciate what you've done for my sister back at the capital. I haven't forgotten it, but..."

"But?"

Arya looked somewhat hesitant. "But I can take care of the rest. I can look out for my family on my own from now on."

"A girl tells herself that, but a man doubts that her skill alone will be enough," he countered.

"The hell do you know?" she hissed, trying to keep her voice down. "Syrio Forel trained me in the ways of the Water Dance, the former First Sword of Braavos himself, taught me everything he knew about fighting!"

Jaqen still looked amused. "Ah, a man knows the name. But has your dancing master taught a girl how to keep a family whole? The skills she obviously lacks?"

More and more, Arya was getting agitated and angry at the perceived insult.

"Ask yourself: what is a girl's most important thing she values most?" he asked.

"Family," she answered bluntly.

"A girl would do anything to protect them? Regardless of what societal restrictions are placed upon her?"

"Yes."

"And to do that a girl feels as if she must keep honing her skills in the Braavosi Water Dance?"

"Yes."

Jaqen approached, surprisingly calm in the face of danger, yet courteous. Turning his head away just momentarily, he lifted his hand upward and gripped his chin. Arya leaned her head sideways, curious as to what he was doing. To her shock and surprise, he extended his hand over his head and drastically changed his appearance. To Arya it looked as if he had ripped his own face off to reveal someone else. His cheeks grew fuller, his eyes closer; his nose hooked, a scar appeared on his right cheek where no scar had been before. And when he shook his head, his reddish-brown hair with a silver streak had drastically turned into a bluish hue and displayed an ugly facial expression with a large bump on the bridge of his nose. "But what if a man told you that there was another way to better yourself when greater dangers arrive to threaten one's own kin, Arya Stark? Another way a girl can become more than what she is now?"