For Want of a Better King

Family Reunion

They arrived as the sun was setting, the perimeter of Riverrun well guarded, and the nervousness in her gut at an all-time high. There weren't many of them in her entourage- her pack of course, her sworn sword, and a few members of The Brotherhood open to negotiations with her brother. She might have counted on their support before, but the time spent respectfully setting the prostitutes to rest had not endeared her to them any further.

It had taken a long time for the bodies to burn down fully, the piles of ash frozen in the form of the skin they once had; like powder imprints of what they once were. It felt important somehow, to grant them peace first; before she found her own. The smell was thick, she felt it cling to her skin and hang on her clothes. It seemed her stomach would never settle. They eventually continued on, but much later than they intended. The rest of the journey was quiet, the others looking at her strangely, not understanding her reaction. She didn't care to explain it to them.

As they got closer, the shuffle of their horses alerted the castle to their approach. Her stomach churned in time with the stir of the guards. They were ready, alert- good. She was glad to know her brother's men were well guarded; but tense at proving herself to strangers.

"Ho! Who goes there?" A young guard asks, birch hair to his shoulders, looking over each of them carefully. His eyes did not linger on her, and she believes he hasn't determined her sex yet. Her mind goes blank, unsure what to say.

"The Brotherhood Without Banners. We mean no harm, only a meeting with Robb Stark, The King in The North." Thoros boasts, saving her the trouble, to Arya's gratitude.

"And why's that? What business 'ave you got with The King?" The soldier asks.

These were her people; she should address them herself. Her back straightens and her chin rises; her eyes seek out the guard who spoke, looking him directly in the mossy eye.

"His sister, Arya Stark has come home and demands an audience." She says, voice appropriately clear. She feels every eye snap to her; and the soldier's jaw drops open.

"Princess, I..." The guard starts, but the other heavier guard interrupts him.

"How do we know you're the princess? What proof 'ave you got?"

"Find someone who knows the Starks. Bring 'em out. They'll recognize her sure enough." Anguy interjects. After a moment, one goes off to do just that while the other stays to stand guard. His gaze makes her uncomfortable, but she doesn't flinch. They're frozen for near a quarter hour before they return.

An enormous figure stalks towards them, bigger than The Mountain even, followed closely by the guard, having to scurry to keep up with the large gait of the man before him. Sandor tenses behind her, but she feels still. The closer he gets, she finally recognizes the man. It's The Greatjon, Lord Umber. He was loyal to her father, or he had been. A great beast of a man, he loved to spar with her brothers, and was always loud at feasts; she remembered he was kind to Jon too, despite his being a Snow.

"You say The Stark girl is here, show her to me!" He demands, his voice originating from his great chest and booming out for all to hear. Stealing her nerves, she hops down from her horse and approaches.

"Do you not know me, Greatjon? Surely it was not so long ago. Only six or so years." She says, not letting her nerves show.

He steps closer until they are before each other; almost nose to chest, Brotherhood watching attentively behind her. Inspecting her closely, a giant grin spreads across his bearded face.

"Little Arya Underfoot. By The Gods, girl... however did you make it all the way here?" He asks dumbfounded, before grabbing her into a hug. He's big, and he easily picks her up and holds her to his chest. He doesn't hurt her though, and she can sense how close to her people she actually is.