28

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 28 First Arrival

Maester Luwin

He shuffled about from raven to raven gathering the messages. There were fewer today then yesterday.

The preparations were ongoing, in this new and unexpected reality that Luwin found himself living in. Winterfell was changing, it was busier than it had been in the last life. Though the old life still haunted him. He remembered the Ironborn. He remembered the pain in his belly after they'd left him to die. And he remembered as Osha gave him the mercy, he'd so desired.

Osha...where are you now?

Since the first day of their return, he'd wondered about her new fate. Each day, his thoughts would come to her. She was a Wildling...and yet, she'd been more leal to the Starks than the Boltons or Karstarks. And where was she now? Did she remember? What would happen to her if she didn't remember? It was obvious what would happen if she did...the Starks always rewarded loyalty well...and Rickon was always asked about her. When Lady Catelyn had been given the whole story about Osha, the Lady had looked like she just swallowed a lemon...though truth be told, that was beginning to be her normal look ever since the first night of their return.

He sighed unhappily, the stress on Lady Catelyn now was immense. While Lord Eddard had been here, they'd shared the burden together with dealing with how the children had changed. Now alone, the strain was showing. The fact that the new Targaryen king...

...Gods, Jon.

It sounded so strange to name Jon a king! And a Targaryen one at that!

That Jon had left Sansa in charge of Winterfell, and by consequence the entire North had not helped. Seeing biddable, kind, demure Sansa act as a Northern Lady; strong, fair and wise...with teeth as sharp a direwolf. More than one than one of the denizens of Winterfell had felt her teeth when they'd tried to treat her as a child. Even Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn had felt her teeth. In the first week, Septa Mordane had nearly been banished from Winterfell for failing to accept the changes in her.

Even he had not been unaffected by the changes, sometimes he found his hand unconsciously going towards his wound. Where the Ironborn had stabbed him...like a man who has lost a limb, it felt strange to him. A phantom pain that would trouble him from time to time...though with each passing day it seemed to lessen.

He shook himself, there was no place for his self indulgence. He was a maester if the Citadel and he had duties to perform. He gathered up the last of the new raven messages and went to meet Sansa, in Lord Eddard's solar.

He walked through Winterfell. It seemed just like always, but there were differences. The servants were industrious and diligent but wary as they went about their tasks. The Stark guardsmen patrolled the halls and kept eyes on everything- which was normal, except they were aided by Manderly men. And every now and then a Reed man could be seen in the castle.

He reached the solar without anyone waylaying him. Entering, he found Lady Sansa waiting for him, sitting in her father's seat going over yesterday's reports again. It was strange to imagine, seeing the young lady Sansa, in Eddard's chair acting as a lady, sitting in the over sized chair.

The changes were blindingly glaring in Sansa, as she sat in her father's chair and commanded with as much poise as an icy Lord of Winterfell. She held herself high and aloof, dealing with one message after another. There was a coldness about her that he'd never seen in her before. It was a mask, the same one that Eddard wore. The mask of the Lord of Winterfell.

The little girl, one he'd help bring into this world, was gone and replaced with a woman of tremendous talent and foresight. She effortlessly maneuvered through the politic intricacies of the Northern Houses as she answered all ravens from the Stark's vassals.

There was something hidden in her that made him ill at ease whenever he glimpsed it...whatever it was...

But it wasn't evident now...she had a smug smile on her lips as she read what was in front of her. As Luwin approached, she looked up and gave him a wide smile on seeing him.

"Lady Sansa," he nodded in greeting, coming forward and placing all the raven scrolls in front of her.

She looked at the small pile and raised an eyebrow, "Anything new? Or urgent?"

He reached into his sleeve and brought out a large letter, "This came in the night." The letter was painted and stamped with a large three headed red dragon. The seal of House Targaryen, "I realise you should have been told, but it was very late...or very early, and you are still a growing girl despite your mature mind. And a few more hours would not make any difference."

She looked at the letter with narrowed eyes, "I'll let it pass this time...but I should have been told immediately..." she sighed, taking the letter from him and quickly opening it as he took a seat across the desk from her.

Sansa's eyes moved back and forth as she quickly read the long letter. A smile began tagging at her lips, as she began reading it. The smile turned into a frown as she neared the end of the letter. The frown seemed tinged with jealously as she read Daenerys's letter, "Show-off..." she muttered jealously under her breath as she finished the letter.

"My Lady?" Luwin asked frowning in curiosity.

"We finally have word from Daenerys...and it seems we shouldn't have been worried about her at all," Sansa said with strange lilt to her voice.

"I would assume that is a good thing?" Luwin asked, still mystified by Sansa's strange reaction.

"Oh it is...she's in the process of consolidating her position in Pentos...she's also the new Queen of Pentos," Sansa revealed dryly.

Luwin blinked and then stared, "Pentos doesn't have a Queen."

Sansa's lips twitched, she held up he letter, "It does now...she has also begun rebuilding her army and hatched her dragons," she finished in a miffed jealous voice.

Luwin blinked again, his confusion not abating, "She is one of our allies...is this not good news? Why are you upset by this?"

Sansa nodded, "Oh it is, don't get me wrong. This is magnificent news, knowing that Daenerys's position is so strong now, its one less thing that Jon will worry about."

"Then the problem is?" Luwin prompted with a frown.

Sansa sighed, "Every time we blink Daenerys rises and conquerors all around her," she then began reciting titles, most that he didn't recognize...and it was a very long list, "...and now Queen of Pentos. She collects titles as a child collects seashells on a beach," she finished dryly. She then blinked in embarrassment, "I guess I'm just a little jealous. "

Luwin raised an eyebrow at her, "Jealous? Jealously is unbecoming of a lady."

Sansa gave him a very dry look at that. She looked a little like a petulant child for a moment.

He chuckled in response, "Moving on," he started, ignoring her continuing stare. He reached out and began opening raven scrolls and passing them to Sansa to read for herself.

They sat there going through the messages, it was mostly uneventful, answers to questions and requests for information. The most important thing was a message from Casterly Rock, confirming Tyrion Lannister's position as Lord of the Westerlands and a couple of colorful questions about what was going on. As well as his oath of fealty to House Targaryen.

Sansa read that one with another smug satisfied smile.

She dictated to Luwin several answers to them, though she herself wrote out the answering note to Tyrion Lannister.

They continued like that till Lady Catelyn and the steward, Vayon Poole, came to the solar for the daily report on the preparations of Winterfell itself. The new fortifications, preparations for a larger harvest and more glass houses for winter...the list went on and on and Sansa dealt with it all efficiently and quickly.

A sense of pride always filled Luwin as they went through these mundane things. Sansa had been listening to him as he tutored her in the other life, his lessons and time hadn't been wasted on her. He idly wondered if Lady Catelyn felt the same way as well...even with the colder and more brutal ways Sansa had dealing with some other things.

He was brought out of his musings as Master Vayon hesitated after Sansa had dismissed him back to his duties.

"Was there something else that you wanted, Master Poole?" he asked the steward as he took in the disturbed pensive expression that was written across the man's face.

Poole looked between Luwin and Sansa before turned to her, "Begging your pardon, my Lady, I..." he faltered and stopped his courage failing him, his question unfinished.

"Master Poole, you a loyal and good man, ask whatever it is that is troubling you, I welcome any questions you have," Sansa with a kind tone and benevolent smile, encouraging him to continue.

Luwin nodded and watched, it was best to deal quickly with whatever was bothering Winterfell's steward.

"What happened to Jeyne?" Poole blurted out in a blubbering despondent voice, "Forgive me, I remember them killing me...but what...it haunts me to imagine what they did to her after..." He looked discomforted as he asked his question, not that Luwin blamed him, a young girl left alone and defenseless among the hostile Lannisters was not a good position.

Sansa's smile disappeared in an instant, her lips thinning. She sat for a moment before coming out from behind the desk to stand in front of the steward. She reached out and gripped Vayon Poole's hand hard, "Thank the Old Gods that Jeyne does not remember her fate..." she started gravely.

Vayon's despondent face paled.

"...I will protect her this time, and she will have a good place in my future household when I am married, I failed her the last time. I will not this time," Sansa finished vehemently. She let go of Poole's hand, "Do not ask again, we have enough worries without borrowing more, especially things that will never happen again. That neither I, nor Jon, will allow to happen to again."

Vayon gulped hard and nodded once, before excusing himself and leaving them alone, his shoulders heavy and his face dark.

Sansa turned back to her troubled mother and a thoughtful, unhappy Maester Luwin.

"What happened to Jeyne?" asked Lady Catelyn angrily after Poole had left.

The angry look on Sansa's face intensified, "Don't tell him or her, after they'd finished killing our men, Cersei gave Jeyne to Lord Baelish," she spat the names with the same degree of venom that she used when referring to the Boltons.

"And?" Lady Catelyn gave her a confused look.

Sansa gave her a long suffering look as if her mother was being dense about something, "A sweet innocent northern beauty, like Jeyne? What do you think he did? He took her to one of his whorehouses...I don't know how long she survived there."

Lady Catelyn looked murderous now. He imagined that his face also held a similar expression. Jeyne was yet another child he'd ushered into this cruel world. It was yet another fate for him to lament.

"Do not worry mother, Baelish will pay for everything soon enough," Sansa stated icily, "if he has not already been dealt with."

Lady Catelyn held her hands together in front of her, in a calm posture even as the murderous look remained on her face. "There is much, Petyr will pay for."

Sansa nodded again, and took her place back behind Lord Eddard desk.

Lady Catelyn joined them sitting in on their meeting...or rather tried to. A knocking on the door interrupted them before they could begin anew.

"Come," Sansa called out quickly.

A guard quickly entered with a bow, he reported smartly, "My Lady, riders are approaching Winterfell. They're flying Baratheon banners."

Lady Catelyn looked up quickly, casting a concerned look at Sansa, "Baratheon men, here?"

Sansa smiled and ignored her mother's outburst, "Excellent, we've been waiting for them," she stated evenly.

Lady Catelyn's concern turned to surprise, "We have?"

Luwin nodded, "We received news of their arrival at White Harbor a while back, they are allies and friends, there is nothing to be concerned about, my lady," he reassured her. Didn't lady Sansa tell her they were coming?

Catelyn looked between them both, discomforted.

Sansa rose, "Come let us greet them," cutting off any response her mother may have had.

xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxox

The gates were open and they were waiting for the riders. The Winterfell guards were standing at attention as an honor guard, they were a little on edge, they'd heard that Baratheon men were coming and were uncertain how this would all turn out.

Sansa stood still and posed, as opposed to her mother who was still surprised and probably trying to imagine who there visitors were. Thought why Sansa was keeping it a secret escaped him. In either case, Lady Catelyn didn't have to wait long.

A dozen riders came riding through the gates, the ten they were expecting a two Manderly men who were their escorts to avoid accidental mistakes and misunderstanding along the road between White Harbor and Winterfell.

The riders stopped and dismounted, some quicker than others, at the forefront of the party was an older man with a graying beard and a black bag hanging from his neck.

As they approached, it was Lady Catelyn that broke the silence, "Ser Davos?" she asked in surprise, not believing her eyes.

Ser Davos smiled at her and bowed, "Lady Stark, it good to see you again...especially under better circumstances than the last time."

She nodded back graciously, "Welcome Ser Davos, I was not aware that you were coming," she cast a cross look at Sansa, who was unaffected by it.

Ser Davos nodded, casting a look at Sansa before speaking, "Thank you my lady," he gestured for a small hooded figure behind him to come forward and stand next to him, "May I present to you..."

The small figure lowered her hood and he heard Lady Catelyn inhale sharply. Luwin's first glance at the girl had also caused him to instinctively tense.

"...the Lady, Shireen Baratheon."

He relaxed at those words, that explained the Greyscale scars. Even knowing she was coming did not prepare one for the initial shock. The story of Stannis Baratheon's daughter and her battle against Greyscale was a well known one among maesters. And such scars were usually indicative of a fatal disease. It was natural for a man to tense despite knowing what to expect.

Lady Catelyn cast a stunned look at Sansa before turning back to Lady Shireen and giving her a welcoming smile, "Welcome to Winterfell, my Lady."

Lady Shireen curtsied awkwardly, a shy smile coming to her scarred face, "Thank you Lady Stark."

Sansa stepped forward, a warm smile on her face, "Welcome Lady Shireen, I am Sansa Stark and Jon has told me much about you."

Shireen's shy smile became warmer, "Thank you Lady Sansa."

Sansa took Shireen's hand, and in a warm tone, "I want you to consider Winterfell home. Here you will be protected from everyone, including you father. You have my word and Jon's."

Shireen's smile became strained but she nodded.

Protect her from her father?! Was Stannis Baratheon seeking to harm his own daughter?! Luwin hid his disquiet but Lady Stark couldn't.

She gasped but Sansa held up a hand, releasing Shireen's, "I will explain later, for now we must welcome the rest our guests as well."

Lady Catelyn rallied and forced a smile, "Of course, my dear."

"Ser Davos," began Sansa regally, turning to the Onion Knight.

"Yes, my lady?"

Sansa withdrew something from her dress and threw it to Ser Davos. The man caught it and looked at it in surprise.

He looked up at Sansa, "Really? I'd have thought his Grace would picked someone else for this...this time anyway," Ser Davos said in dubious surprise.

"It it what Jon has commanded," Sansa assured him.

Ser Davos sighed and then fixed the badge to his shirt and then it was Luwin's time to be surprised. The badge was in the shape of a hand. All maesters knew what the badge signified...and the power it carried.

The Hand of the King.

Lady Catelyn's knew the badge as well, her face seemed to have frozen now from the constant surprises this party was bringing her. Lord Eddard had worn such a badge once. And now, Ser Davos Seaworth, the Onion Knight, Stannis's man, was Hand to King Jon Targaryen?

"...The king insists...for the time being at least," Sansa explained, "We need a man that knows as much as we do, at least untill things are sorted."

Davos sighed, "As the King commands...do you think he'll actually listen to me this time?"

Sansa's laugh was unexpected, "He's learning." She gestured towards Luwin, "this is Maester Luwin."

Luwin bowed, "My Lord Hand," he greeted with respect.

Ser Davos winced, "Davos will be fine, I'm not one to stand on ceremony."

The humble response spoke well of him, and matched what Luwin had heard about the former smuggler, "As the Hand commands." Even in the North some decorum and pomp had to be observed. Especially with the Hand of the King.

Ser Davos sighed, before giving Sansa an annoyed 'this is your fault' look, before smiling again and responding graciously, "Thank you."

Ser Davos and Sansa shared an unreadable look before she glanced behind him at the others that were with them.

Luwin took a moment to look at the back of the group. Before the Baratheon guards were three youths, who didn't look Highborn to Luwin's experienced eyes. The younger two were scruffy and staring about with wide scared eyes. They also seemed almost be opposites of each other, one thin and one fat. One blonde and blue eyed, the other dark haired and dark eyed.

The eldest of the group was different. He was a tall muscular boy on the cusp of adulthood, he stood stiff and uneasy. His eyes moving back and forth with familiarity. He recognized Winterfell and he was looking for something. There was also something about him that was familiar. The sharp blue eyes and black hair and square jaw were very familiar.

The youth stepped forward nervously, "Sansa."

Sansa smiled again, "Gendry."

Ser Davos cleared his throat, "This is Gendry Waters. King Robert's natural son."

Now, Luwin was worried, and Lady Catelyn's surprise had turned into scorn as she stared at Robert Baratheon's bastard son. Yet another question for Sansa later, and yet another mystery...and one more reason for Lady Catelyn to look like she'd swallowed a lemon.

"Gendry?" came a sudden voice from behind him.

Luwin kept his wits about him and didn't jump at the unexpected voice...he was starting to get used to it. He knew Arya and she had changed ever since their return. Greatly changed...

He turned and found her standing there with a surprised and shocked expression on her face. There was something else in her face that he didn't recognize.

"Arya," breathed out Gendry.

He looked back at the boy and then back at Arya. There was a very far fetched idea forming there but nothing he believed possible...even with all the impossible things that were had happened lately.

But apparently, the impossible was again happening again, because suddenly the two were running towards each other.

As they neared Arya leapt up and Gendry caught her, hugging her tightly to him.

He cast a concerned look at Lady Catelyn and saw her looking at the unfolding scene in front of her in incomprehension before turning into mounting horror.

He looked back at Arya and Gendry. They didn't look they were going to let go of one another any time soon.

He looked to Sansa. She was looking at them with an endearing smile on her lips. Standing next to her, Davos had a similar smile, while the Lady Shireen seemed surprised.

Eventually, Gendry knelt down, letting Arya find her feet. They broke apart wide smiles on both their faces. Gendry reached out and ruffled her hair.

Gendry gave Arya a serious look, "No more running off alone..." he paused giving her a long look up and down, "I forgot how small you used to be," he then teased with a small amused laugh.

In response, Arya ducked away from his hand and pouted which only caused Gendry to snicker more. Her pout became more prominent and then she stepped forward and pushed him. He lost his footing and sprawled back on his ass, as a satisfied Arya walked past him to Davos, his laughter only got louder.

Her face reddened, but she ignored Gendry's echoing laughter, "Ser Davos."

"Lady Arya," responded Ser Davos with a small bow and an amused grin.

Arya turned to Lady Shireen, "Jon told me about you. It's good to meet you, Lady Shireen."

"And you...Jon told me about you as well," Lady Shireen replied with a timid smile.

Arya frowned, "You remember?"

Lady Shireen grimaced, "Yes."

Arya winced, "Sorry."

"Me too," Lady Shireen nodded forlornly.

Luwin watched the cryptic exchange with concern...it was something else he'd have to remember to ask Sansa about.

Arya nodded and turned to the two other boys that had come with Davos. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Hot Pie! Lommy?!" she exclaimed in surprise.

Luwin raised an eyebrow at the names. The two boys waved hesitantly at her. So they were friends of Arya? As usual, she was befriending people that Lady Catelyn would consider unsuitable company for a Lady of a Great House.

"Found them in King's Landing, decided they'd be safer with us than there," Gendry explained, as he brushed the dust off his clothes. He came to stand next to Arya.

As Luwin watched the byplay, he saw their hands find each other, and Arya stood there holding hands with Gendry. The height difference made them look more than little absurd...and Lady Catelyn's polite smile looked more like a death rictus now. Luwin silently winced as he imagined what was probably going though her mind now.

On another note, the stillness that he'd been seeing in Arya had disappeared and she almost seemed like the energetic and mischievous Arya of old that he had once known.

The fat boy, Hot Pie, seemed to gather his courage and he stepped towards Sansa.

"Lady Sansa," Hot Pie bowed, a serious expression on his face.

"Hot Pie, it's good to see you again- I've missed your cooking," Sansa said with a happy welcoming smile.

A cook? Why bring a cook? Winterfell had more than enough cooks already.

The fat boy puffed up with pride and beamed, a childish smile coming onto his round features, "Thank you, my Lady! I've been thinking about how to perfect my meat pie recipe! I've had some great ideas! I think you'll love it!" he babbled happily.

Sansa grimaced, "Just as long Arya doesn't help you make the pies."

"Hey!" cried out Arya in indignation.

Pies? There it was again...what was it with Arya and pies?

The fat boy, for some reason, turned a little queasy at the comment, "If I have to chase her out of the kitchens with a broom before I start, I promise will!" he assured her willfully and bravely.

Sansa smiled sweetly, "Good. Just as long as we're agreed."

Arya opened her mouth to retort but Gendry turned to her a gave her a stern look, "No pies." his tone brooked no argument and she closed her mouth with an upset twitch of her lips, without retorting.

Luwin watched silently. Who was this boy for Arya to obey him so? It was just one more piece of the puzzle that Arya had become. A part of him dreaded the answer because there was much that was disturbing about the little girl he once knew. There was a secret there that many people were keeping out of fear.

Out of fear of Arya...

How could they be afraid of her? What was he missing? Rodrick had told him of an incident with the Manderly and Stark men, he'd seen fear in good northern veteran soldiers in its aftermath. Arya had pranked Tomard as usual and he'd given her a small playful cuff in response...the reaction from the Manderly men after that had been something else...their fear had been palatable as they gave a confused Tomard a wide berth. A very wide berth...

The mask that Sansa wore was evident, it was the same one that Lord Eddard wore as the Lord of Winterfell...but the one Arya seemed to wear was almost seamless...at least to everyone else. He knew the girl too well. There was something...there. A blankness that occasionally appeared and a bloodthirstiness that reared it's head every single time their enemies were mentioned.

It was a mystery that he was not looking forward to solving and he worried over how Lady Catelyn would react to these changes. He paused in his musings...Lord Eddard would not react well either.

"Come, let us get you all settled," Sansa proclaimed, gesturing and leading them out of the courtyard of Winterfell, acting the dutiful host.

He followed behind dutifully, his shoulders heavy with the burden of this unknown mystery.