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History always had a way of repeating itself over and over through space and time, as two looked down, watching as two souls find one another once again after being so long apart. Eddard Stark was with his lady wife, watching from beyond the veil as the Dragon Queen was holding a tourney to celebrate the end of the wight war. He had watched his daughter, whom he had always felt been more than just the coloring of the North, and the Queen grow separately into their own people, even as both of the younger generations displayed clear signs of their past. He could see two she-wolves lurking in the shadows of the grounds, watching as the Northerners were greeted upon arrival by the Queen. Ned had hoped his youngest daughter would have gone home to their pack once she had returned to Westeros, but so far she had yet to show signs that she was truly herself again.
Daenerys Targaryen watched as the Wolves of Winterfell had arrived as she stood to meet them. She gave a small smile as two Starks and her nephew dismounted and knelt before her. Looking up, she could see Bran Stark bowing his head respectfully from his place on the back of his steed. She smiled up at him before turning her attention to the Lady Sansa and Lord Rickon, while her nephew helped Lord Brandon Stark dismount.
Offering her arm to Lady Sansa, Daenerys asked light heartedly: “And how were your travels Lady Stark?” The War against the Others had made for some strange bedfellows, but having been there, seeing each of the Starks stand up and answer the call in whatever way they could, had endeared them to her after she’d learned that some of the Stark Children had survived.
Sansa bowed her head respectfully, “The travel was fair, Your Grace. It seems Spring has fully thawed the lands south of the Neck.”
The three Stark men followed at a respective distance behind the Lady of Winterfell and the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, while the rest of their Northern party brought up the rear as they all entered the Tourney grounds.
Ned glanced at Catelyn, noticing that his beloved wife was watching their children with such pain, seeing their little pack of wolves coming to the Riverlands for the tourney. The Lady Stark smiled sadly, watching her eldest surviving child leading the Northmen to show fealty to the Dragon. She had to wonder how Sansa was feeling, being south of the Neck once more after everything that happened before Queen Daenerys and her army had come to help against the unnatural Others, as well as ridding the world of the House of Lannister save for the Imp. Feeling the gaze of her Lord husband, Catelyn finally turned to face him, only to see that Ned had glanced through the divide to watch their other little wolf pup. Hidden eyes watched her other children, and it pained her knowing that Arya was keeping her distance for some noble reason or another.
Standing over in the shadows where she believed she belonged, the former faceless assassin, now once again Arya of house Stark, watched her pack. For so long she had believed them dead, and yet there they were, walking with the Silver Queen that she had heard much about in Essos. How could the lost wolf rejoin the family she had spent near a decade away from, especially with all of the blood that stained her hands? So much of it wasn’t even tied to those that had been behind the loss of her family.
What was more, as she stared at the woman that ruled the Seven Kingdoms, she felt an air of familiarity about her. Arya couldn’t understand how, since she had never once been in the presence of the Dragon Queen, but there was a draw to go to them all which only made the she-wolf retreat deeper into the trees.
As he watched his daughter pull herself farther away from her pack and very soul, Ned’s head bowed, silently urging Arya to go to them, someway, somehow. She needed to just reveal herself to the ones she so desperately wished to be near. The lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Wasn’t that something he had said to his youngest daughter? And yet here she was, doing the exact opposite and staying a lone wolf even when it was obvious she wanted to be reunited with her pack. He had hoped that maybe a little bit of Arya’s past spark would come through, and give his daughter that push to do something . And sure enough, it did - the same thing that his sister once did, in fact - inspiring her to enter the tourney as a masked Knight.
Dany found herself watching the tourney in mild boredom. While she knows it had been her idea in hopes to bring the Great Houses together, it didn’t make it all that interesting. Looking away from the lists, she watched as the Rose of Highgarden Margaery Tyrell spoke to Lady Stark, making her giggle. She wondered if anyone else noticed just how smitten the two women were. With a soft sigh, her attention turned back to the jousting just in time to see a new entry had been added to the lists.
She heard Bran murmur something about the Knight of the Laughing tree. Dany furrowed her brow as she flickered her gaze to the mysterious knight whose shield bore a weirwood without a face, with a prominent scar curved over where side of the old god’s face should have been. She found herself intrigued by this new contender; she could feel Ser Barristan tense behind her as if he was seeing history repeat.
Catelyn shook her head. After having learned that Lyanna had been the knight at the Tourney at Harrenhal all those years ago, it only seemed appropriate for Arya to follow in her past life’s footsteps. She felt a pang of sorrow as her gaze crossed to the young man she had been so unfair to in life, her anger had long given way to regret now that she knew the truth. Seeing history give two lovers a second chance had softened her, and she hoped it would come to pass for them even though she knew that the love between a wolf and dragon could be dangerous.
But maybe this time it will work out for them without the stag of storm's end or the sun of dorne caught between them.
The wild she-wolf had no idea what compelled her to find a helm that would go with her armor, nor why she had painted a faceless weirwood tree on a shield. What was more, instead of turning and leaving after seeing that her pack was safe and mostly whole, save for those souls resting in the hands of the gods, she found herself instead entering the bloody tourney. So there she was, sitting atop a black destrier with eyes equally dark. For a moment, the horse reminded her of her time with the Hound.
Sitting lightly, Arya led her large beast of a horse over to the royal stands, seeing her siblings and the Queen through the slit in her helm. Dipping both the lance and her head respectfully towards the Queen, the she wolf turned to face her first opponent.
Looking down, Ned saw an overlap of another she-wolf in full armor, showing respect to the royal dragon of that time. Ned gave a small smirk as he watched his wolf-pup break three lances before unhorsing her opponent on the fourth. He knew that Arya could best even the most seasoned jousters. His eyes cut to the royal stands, seeing the Dragon Queen sitting up in her seat, as well as her young children watching with rapt attention. If there had been one thing he was thankful for about the Silver Queen, it was that she had learned from her family legacy's mistake, and knew that mixing Targaryen blood with other houses was a good thing. It probably didn’t hurt that her soul had done the same before - Ned thought that it might have been the reason Daenerys had ended up unlike her father just as much as Rhaegar had been unlike the Mad King. A smile pulled at his lips as he watched how entranced Daenerys was with his masked daughter, so like the last time this had happened.
Dany found herself on the edge of her seat almost as much as her children where. Oh, she wanted to know who this mystery knight was, especially when it looked like this one would win . It seemed the knight was done for the day after the last match, and had slipped back out almost as silently as they had appeared. She glanced around, noticing that her Queen’s guard seemed ready to chase after the knight, and that Ser Barristan did not look happy.
She looked over at Bran, who seemed either certain he knew something, or confused by what had just transpired. “Lord Brandon, do you know who was under the helm?” For some reason, she needed to know the identity of the knight.
Bran turned to her. “I do not, your grace.”
She could see his eyes weren’t lying, though she could also see he was in fact holding something back. The question was, did she want to push for that answer?
Pulling her eyes away from her children still in the stands, Catelyn turned her attention to Arya, whom had disappeared back into the forest. She had hoped that her daughter would have stayed and allowed herself to be unmasked before them all. There was still hope; the tournament would be ongoing for a few more days, but it was diminished by the fact that this time, Arya wasn’t also attending as a lady noble of the realm. But small hope was still hope, she had to believe that her daughter would go back again the next day. If they missed this moment, there was a good chance the two wouldn’t get another in this lifetime. And if her youngest daughter didn’t reveal herself now, then her pup would never reconnect with the rest of her siblings.
She had been inexplicably driven to enter the tourney, and of course she could end her run now that the day was done, but for some reason Arya felt a draw to return again tomorrow. She remembered the way the queen had looked, and the feeling of her own heart skipping a beat when she had been so sure that the Targaryen queen had looked her right in the eye - even though that should have been impossible due to the shadow cast over her eyes from the helm.
Ears that weren’t and yet were hers pricked up as she heard the sound of small feet running through the woods, and the cries of a worried mother. Turning around quickly, the she-wolf scooped up a little girl with eyes like Amethyst and hair as dark as her own. A face with angles that screamed of memories of the North, Arya looked down intently, trying to place why the little girl would have eyes of old Valyria while looking so much like a Northerner. Just then the Queen herself burst into the clearing on the heels of a little boy who looked Targaryen at first glance, but had eyes that were nearly silver. Not quite Stark grey like her own, but more the light grey of Umber blood. Arya stared at the woman that ruled the kingdoms, and, not for the first time, wondered about the pull she felt.
“I believe this little one is yours” Her voice was soft, almost cracking from so little use since being back in Westeros. She moved in to hand the youngster, who couldn’t have been older than four summers, to the Queen.
The Dragon Queen seemed to be assessing her before replying, “Thank you. Would you care to join the festivities tonight?”
Ned chuckled as he realized that Arya wasn’t going to get out of being taken to the feast that evening, and the fact that he knew his daughter was already wrapped around the Targaryen’s fingers. Not just the queen’s, but her heirs as well. He felt himself smile, seeing that small spark start to light in his daughter’s eyes, and when he turned he saw that same spark was starting to reflect back equally in the violet eyes of the Queen.
Standing before this oddly familiar stranger, Dany rested one hand on Aden’s shoulder while holding Ellya on one hip. Compelled, she looked up at the slightly taller stranger, whose eyes were familiar and looked almost a mirror image of her nephew’s. Upon further inspection, the Dragon narrowed her eyes, noticing that not only did her eye color look like her nephew’s, but so did the rest of the coloring of the woman before her. It was almost like she was staring at a female version of Jon Snow, save that this stranger was wearing clothing more fitting for the Free City of Braavos than that of Stark northerners.
Hearing the rustle of leaves and brush, Dany turned to see a large direwolf step into the clearing. Tense as she moved to instinctively keep her children behind her, she watched the large she-wolf move beyond her to sit beside the stranger - so much like the Stark’s own direwolves always did. The stranger looked ready to decline her offer to join the festivities, so Dany quirked a brow and gave a regal air before saying,“Would you truly deny the Queen?”
Her daughter reached towards the Stark-looking stranger, and she saw the resolve to refuse her slip and crumble before them instantly.
“Of course not your Grace…” Came the low husk of a reply, as grey eyes looked down at her with some hint of emotion that made Dany feel something she hadn’t felt since her children’s father. Though if she’s honest, she already knows that this feeling was stronger than what she shared with William of House Umber, and maybe even stronger than what she felt for her Sun and Stars all those years ago.
For the first time in years, all of her sweet children were going to be together again. Catelyn was almost breathless hoping that Arya would reconnect with her siblings. She had seen how her youngest daughter had lost herself, burying everything that made her a Wolf of Winterfell to become one of the Faceless. She had seen how those in Braavos had stripped away, layer by layer, everything that made her little wolf pup until the only thing that held true, that she had left, was her blood. Catelyn reached to her side and grabbed Ned’s hand as hope started to spring in her heart.
Having pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head, Arya followed behind the Dragon Queen and the heirs to the realm. She wondered why there hadn’t been any of the guards looking for the three royals, but deciding against asking for fear that as they entered the castle someone would recognize her voice. Of course they didn’t get very far before the Queen’s guard had finally reacted, and stopped her at sword point, surrounded.
With her hood roughly pulled back, the she-wolf glared up at the Lord Commander of the guard through the fringes of her choppy bangs. Before the Queen or anyone could speak, there was a broken gasp from the Northerner’s table. She forced herself to keep her gaze on the knight before her, instead of turning to face the ones who would know her.
Feeling movement around her, she tensed before being pulled against the sister she had lost all those years ago. Slowly, arms came up and circled Sansa’s waist in return as Arya buried her face into her sister’s shoulder.
There were tears in his eyes as the wolf pack was brought back together by Daenerys. Ned gave a soft laugh as he saw the love between his two daughters, who were as different as night and day when growing up, and whom both went through trials and torment that he was sure the other wouldn’t have been able to survive and yet both came out stronger for them. He could see that anything that the two might have fought over when they were younger was quickly laid to rest.
When she had walked in with the Stark-looking Stranger, Dany hadn’t expected to have Ser Barristan react the way he did. But on top of that, before she could call her knights off, Lady Sansa had pushed her way into the circle and pulled the stranger into a fierce hug. Watching the Lady of Winterfell bury her face into the dark, shaggy hair gave the dragon pause, even more than when her nephew had came over to see why Lady Sansa had rushed away from the Northernmen and Lady Margaery.
She glanced to the side where Jon was standing, only to see tears pooling in his eyes and a murmur of ‘ little sister’ as he swept both women into his arms. Dany furrowed her brows until the three in the circle of her Queen’s guard pulled back enough for all to see.
The Dragon watched as Lady Sansa cupped the Stranger’s face and the red wolf spoke. “Where have you been Arya? We all thought you had died.” It was then that the entire situation made sense - she was seeing the lost Wolf return home.
Catelyn gave a soft sob of a laugh, seeing her children and even the young man, who she now knew to be her nephew, pulling Arya into their arms. She watched as Hodor carried Bran down to group to join in, together at last.
Even though she had been put off by Ser Barristan’s initial abrupt reaction to Arya’s unmasking, she had to be lenient. He had been there the first time the two souls met, and with Arya having her hood up the way she had, it could be said that the old knight was just being cautious. She didn’t have to like his reaction to her daughter, but she understood it. And that allowed her to set it aside, and enjoy the scene unfolding just as she’d hoped it would.
Her heart was light as she watched her family come together for the first time since Ned and the girls had gone down to King's landing, all those years ago.
Blinking back tears, Arya smiled a small grin before answering her sister. “I was in Braavos for a time, then Tyrosh, Lys… pretty much all of the free cities.” Oh there was no way she was going to tell her family that she had been to those places because of being a faceless assassin, but she knew she could share bits and pieces.
Having Sansa and Jon defuse the previously terse situation, the she-wolf was also happy that she wouldn’t have to shame the seven Queen’s guard in front of so many people if it came down to a fight. The evening wore on as there was dancing and merriment which served to brighten the moods. The north had more to celebrate than just the four year anniversary of the end of the Long Night. After having told stories of her time away, Arya found her gaze slipping towards the Queen more and more as the hour grew late. Oh, she knew that the northmen and pretty much the whole crowd around them were still hanging on to her every word, but something about the Dragon kept demanding her attention.
The minstrels started to play a new song, one that the she-wolf had heard before in the free cities. It was being sung in its original high Valyrian, likely in honor of the Queen’s ancestry. Excusing herself, Arya strode towards the Queen and offered her hand. “No disrespect intended your Grace... but would you do me the honor of a dance?”
Ned gave a small grin, seeing his youngest daughter display her more daring side. After all, who other than Arya would be one to do something crazy like just walk up and ask the ruling monarch to dance? He listened to the song, understanding every word in his place beyond. Hearing the familiar song of the Wolf and the Dragon, he blinked, realizing that it was about more than just Rhaegar and Lyanna.
The first time he had heard it, Ned had felt dread. It had been a few years after the rebellion, but when he had asked the minstrel about it they had said it had been around for many a year. It wasn’t until he had come to the beyond and had learned that the souls of his sister and the Dragon Prince had been brought back in his daughter and the Mother of Dragons, that the instance he’d lived through with Lyanna hadn’t been the first time their souls had not met a good end.
Dany quirked a brow with amusement at the ease with which the lost Stark spoke, and confidence to straight up ask her to dance. She heard the chuckle from Missandei and Tyrion, knowing that they approved of the move seeing as both were the only ones that didn’t fear teasing her about her observations of the younger Stark woman. Looking past the alluring grey eyes towards the other northerners, the Dragon saw the shock on all their faces as well as the telltale signs of held breath.
Returning her gaze to the waiting she-wolf before her, Dany reached out her hand, taking the lightly scarred one and stood with a grace that met her station as Queen, “I suppose one dance couldn’t hurt.” Her smile was soft as she allowed herself to be led out onto the ballroom floor.
Once comfortably situated in a hold by the brave wolf, Dany looked up at the face of her dance partner to see a wolfish grin and grey eyes alight with mischief as the two moved in time to the Valyrian song.
A soft smile pulled at Catelyn’s lips as she chuckled, watching her daughter charm the Queen. Long ago, she knew that she hadn’t fully understood her youngest daughter because she had gotten used to how much Sansa had taken to her more Southern roots. When Arya had been born every inch a Stark and of the North, Catelyn had tried to mould her into a person she wasn’t. It was one of her many regrets when it came to her children. She knew that it had been only Ned and Jon who had been supportive of Arya learning the blade and bow. But having watched her daughter learn everything needed to become another person entirely, well, that was something she would have preferred not to have happened.
She had been a little surprised that the Queen was allowing her to lead, but Arya just smirked, using the concession to her advantage as she moved them in perfect time with the song. Oh, she had seen the surprise on her family’s faces; had seen the disapproval on old Barristan the Bold’s face. But despite all of that, the Wolf found herself being drawn into the warmth of the Dragon, along with a sense that being there in the presence of Daenerys was right where she was meant to be.
She was made even more certain when she felt the Queen’s hand moving from its resting place on her shoulder to cup the back of her neck, her head being drawn close as lips met softly.
Ned and Catelyn stood hand-in-hand as they watched as the two finally started on their path together in this lifetime. As the scene faded, they knew that while the two would face trouble, both Daenerys and Arya were stronger than any of their past incarnations - and they would make it this time around.