He walked across the yard to meet her with a training sword in hand. In many ways that scene would remind him of a simpler life, when both of them were young and full of hopes and dreams. Although her slender figure was indeed a blessed remind that he still had a family, the pang in his heart refused to fade whenever his eyes catch hers.

Arya whipped away the sweat from her forehead before looking at him and presenting him with an awkward reverence. Jon would never get used to such a formality, but Sansa insisted that he should be treated according to his title and rank, regardless to his past as nothing but a Stark bastard. Arya was as pleased as him with the situation, but never raised her voice against her sister. Not when they've lost such a huge part of their family already.

"Don't let me disturb you, my lady." If she was bound by courtesy to pay him homage, he also was supposed to treat her as a lady of the highest rank. When the world got so messy? He would never know. War changes everything and Jon wasn't even sure if Arya was still the same girl he once called little sister.

"You haven't disturbed me and I was finishing anyway." She put the sword down and looked at him closely. Although she was much changed, Arya had always been an observer. His formal attires would never pass unnoticed by her eyes. He hoped, though. He hoped that she wouldn't ask him the right questions. Not now. Not when he didn't knew what to do or say to her. "I forgot something, didn't I?" She asked while putting a hand on her forehead as if she was in some kind of pain. "Sansa will kill me."

"You forgot nothing. I understand that it was something planned in the last minute. Lady Sansa suggested that I should inform you of the event and make sure that my lady would be dressed properly." He sounded awfully uncomfortable and unsure. Not princely at all.

"What are you now? My maid? Any page boy or handmaid could have informed me." Arya replied harshly as usual. He smiled lightly at her, relieved to find that familiar place. "Judging by your clothes, I suppose it will be tremendous. I'll need not only a dress, but also a corset. Because life isn't painful enough just the way it is."

"As perceptive and lovely as always, dear cousin." He answered calmly. "There will be an announcement."

"I see." He hoped for something more fiery from her. Some kind of utterly curious reaction or a brief discussion. She was absurdly perceptive not only in a battle field but also in which concerned her life and her choices. Arya could not know for sure what the announcement was about, but Jon was positively sure that she could feel how it would affect her life and she wasn't pleased about it.

"May I ask you something, my lady?" Jon's voice sounded excitant for a second. Once more he was afraid that she might just let her wolf blood run freely thru her veins.

"You can do what you want. I understand that it is a prerogative of princes." She said solemnly. "Speak, Jon. I doubt that there's anything that you might say that can harm me more than the war already have." That statement sent a shiver thru his spine. Although he was secure of his good intentions, he wasn't prepared for denial or rejection. He wanted her to understand.

"Would my lady like to go home?" He asked in a calm voice. The snowflakes started to fall, dancing around them and remembering that the winter hasn't ended yet. Jon took of his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders to prevent her from getting cold. She would look petit and delicate to any ignorant eyes, but Jon knew better. Under her skin there was steel and ice. In her mind a bit of madness soaked in melancholy. Arya laughed no more, dreamed no more.

He felt a shiver running over her body and saw a flash of unmistakable hope within her eyes. She had waited for these words for far too long, he knew. Arya closed her eyes and let the snowflakes fall all over her cheeks, melting almost instantly against her warm skin.

"What the Queen has decided?" Arya asked finally, with her eyes still closed. Jon remained silent. "Although I desperately wish to go home, I'm not stupid to believe that such an offer would come with no strings attached."

"You are far too clever for your own good, sweet cousin." Jon said at last.

"Tell me something that I don't know." She replied with a foreign hint of humor.

"I love you." There was conviction in his voice and also a bit of hope that she almost ignored.

"I do know it already. Try again." Jon tried to decide if she was joking or if she was simply ignorant of the meaning of those words.

"The Queen allowed you to return to Wintefell after long hours of endless debates on the matter." Jon said with a bit of frustration in every word. "Lady Sansa spoke very eloquently in your behalf, I must say. Even though she isn't entirely pleased with Rickon being ignored in the matters of succession, she is content with at least one Stark at Winterfell. Lady Arryn and the Queen agree in one aspect of your personality and how it could be a problem, though. You are far to wildling-like to their taste."

"Therefore, I'm supposed to prove myself a good lady and we both know that I will fail miserably." Arya concluded. "Will I be put under home arrest? Will I become a prisoner in my own house?"

"There are much more traditional and practical ways to limit a women's power, my lady. None of them of your liking, I dare suppose." Jon answered carefully. "Your betrothal will be announced at the banquet tonight."

Arya opened her eyes and looked directly in his eyes. He couldn't say if it was fear or anger what he saw within those grey eyes, but he knew that he didn't like it a single bit.

"Sansa must be thrilled with the idea of having me married to some presumptuous lord." Arya said sharply. "Who is this man that I must marry? What does he know about Winterfell and the North? What does he know about the winter and the Stark's words?"

"More than you could possibly imagine, my lady." Jon answered while his arms enlaced Arya by her shoulders, taking her in an awkward embrace. Arya rested her head against his chest. She usually avoided any kind of contact, but slowly she gave in and just let Jon hold her close. "Fear not. You shall be safe and cared for."

"How can you know it? A Frey, a Bolton…They were supposed to keep Arya Stark safe too. How can you be sure that this man, this betrothed of mine will be any different?" For a brief second he thought she was crying.

"Trust me. I've made sure of it." He whispered against her messy hair.

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They washed and scrubbed her clean. Her skin smelled of lavender and winter roses when they dressed her in grey velvet and fur. Her hair was braided in a way that made her think about how her lady mother used to do it and for a second she thought she would cry. I'm going home. Arya tried to remind herself again.

She looked her reflex on her looking glass. That was some fine trick, but under the fancy clothes and the combed hair there was nothing but a wolf-girl and girls who walk with wolves are not meant to be loved by men. Arya thought about her mother once more and how much Lady Catlyn had tried to make a lady out of her. I'm a lady and I'm going home, but you won't be there to see it, mother. The taste of this memory was bitter.

Since her family's downfall, Arya had wished for nothing but her home in hope that within Winterfell's walls she would find happiness again. With time this hope nearly faded away until she found both Sansa and Jon again. The months she spent in the Red Keep had been the happiest she ever lived during those six years, mostly because of Jon's presence. She felt safe and cared for in a way that almost made all of her nightmares go away. Now she would be send back home, and even though she was happy with the idea of seeing Winterfell again, Arya never wished for a husband who would never make her feel as safe as Jon have made.

A sect of ladies in waiting conducted her to the great hall at the Red Keep. A thousand lords and ladies looked at her and Arya noticed how they were evaluating every single aspect about her. Some looked with pity, some with disdain, and others with blunt envious eyes. She raised her face and reminded herself that she was a daughter of Eddard Stark, she was a princess of Winterfell. This was nothing but another face she would have to use, no different from the ones assigned to her by the Kindly Man.

She looked at the highest sits along the table. Daenerys Targaryen stood in a high chair, sided by her two nephews. The queen's silver blond hair tamed in a complex braid, making a remarkable contrast with the blood red and black of her gown. Aegon was by her side, looking terribly bored, wearing a red velvet tunic, detailed with shadowcat's fur. Jon was on the left wearing nothing but his usual black attires, although the ones he was supposed to wear in King's Landing were far too exquisite to ever suit a former member of the Night's Watch. If Aegon was called the Young Dragon, Jon's alias represented him perfectly. The Black Prince of The North.

Sansa stood closely to the royal family with an empty chair by her side that Arya supposed it was meant for her. At least she would sit by Jon's site and hopefully he would offer her some comfort when her be betrothed was announced. For once in her life, Sansa smiled at her pleased with Arya's looks.

"You look lovely." She said in a gentle and refined tone. But never half as lovely as you've always been. The thought came to her immediately. "Mother would be proud of you, and Father too."

She sat between Sansa and Jon, trying to look like a lady and not a half-wolf and half-wildling girl. She drank a cup of wine in a single gulp out of anxiety. Sansa raised a brow in disapproval, while Jon held her hand under the table, trying to calm her down.

The banquet was long and although the food was said to be delicious and the musicians quite extraordinary, Arya felt no taste and heard no songs. She came back to the world when the queen rose from her sit, calling for the crowd's attention.

"It is known that my family has a great debt with the Starks of Winterfell. Although for a long time it was said that Eddard Stark was a rebel who brought my own father down, it is also true that his mercy was the shield that kept my brother's son protected, and also the voice who spoke in my defense when the Usurper was still alive. Ned Stark died with his loyal and dutiful silence and the war raged all over the Seven Kingdoms. Once the Starks of Winterfell renewed their loyalty to the true heirs to the Iron Throne and without their support the war in the North would have never been won, nor would the peace be restored." The Queen made a dramatic pause and looked directly where Arya was sited. "I've became quite fond of both Stark girls. Even though I shall miss her terribly; it is with great joy that I send Lady Arya Stark back home with the most valuable man a woman could ever hope to marry. May the gods bless you and my nephew with a long and peaceful life and so many children that Winterfell will become small to shelter all of you." Daenerys rose a cup of wine. "To Prince Jon and Lady Arya's happiness."

There were cups raised all around them, but Arya remained motionless as if her whole body was paralyzed. She was convinced that she had heard the speech wrong. A hand placed above hers managed to get Arya out of her shock. She blinked a few times, enough to recover her senses and hear Sansa's whisper.

"Remember that you are a Stark. You better smile and pretend to be happy with the news." Her face tried to follow her sister's command, but Arya felt that her expression was about to crack.

She realized, maybe too late to the observers taste, that Jon was standing by her side and offering her his hand patiently. She accepted his offer since there was nothing else she could do. Although she had heard the words they simply didn't make sense to Arya's ears. The man before her was her most intimate friend and probably the only person she ever trusted fully. He was her brother, for the gods' sake!

"I told you…" He said in a low, almost shy tone. "Fear not. You shall be safe and cared for." He raised her chin with his gloved hand to make her look at him in the eyes.

Arya saw him lowering his face to meet hers. She smelled the mint and wine in his breath while his lips got closer to hers. She had been on that place before, feeling the expectation, waiting for the contact and getting anxious to either escape or drowns in her own feelings, but with Jon she simply didn't know what to do.

He kissed her, though. With his fingers playing with the locks of hair on her nape, he kissed her. All the court, all of the noble lords and ladies in the great hall shouted in approval while Arya felt the whole world around her spinning. For a moment she thought she would faint, until she remembered that he wasn't the first man to ever kiss her, nor was she a maid of some random song. She fought a war and she survived the dreads of all those years alone to the point of nearly forget who she was. She was Arya Stark and she walked with wolves, and girls who run with wolves are not supposed to be loved by men.

Her teeth sank in his lips before Arya could notice what she was doing. Jon broke the kiss immediately, taking his hand to his bleeding mouth. Sansa looked at her with sheer anger and shame running all over her face. Daenerys did nothing but raise a brow while Aegon looked amused by the unexpected distraction. She looked at Jon, worried that he might be angry at her for such a unladylike behavior, but he did nothing but look back at her with joyful eyes and a smirk.

She sat back on her chair, absolutely clueless of what to do. Sansa stood by her side looking nothing but ashamed by her sister's behavior. Arya wished that she could have at least looked at her and shown some sympathy to a girl who was just told that she was to marry a man she once called brother.

The banquet went on with many lords and ladies approaching her to congratulate both her and Jon to their betrothal. She wasn't quite sure if they knew about her past with Jon and how close they used to be. She concluded that since Jon was a Targaryen after all, it was just expected that he would end up marrying someone of his own blood.

When the feast was over she raised from her sit, almost dreaming about the comfort of her silent chambers and feather bed. That one had been a long day and she was glad that it was over.

"May I escort you to your room, my lady?" Jon's voice asked, taking her away from her dreams of a quiet night.

"I hardly think that it would be considered appropriate to a couple recently betrothed, Your Highness." Sansa spoke immediately. "Maybe tomorrow my sister will agree with a long walk thru the gardens, chaperoned, of course."

"Although it might sound too permissive, I must say that there is very little that could be done to your sister's reputation. They are to be married, after all. If anything happens, you might have a reason to have your sister wedded at the first light in morrow." The Queen spoke abruptly. "Let them talk. The gods know that it might save them a great deal of headaches. You two may go and talk, just have the decency to keep your clothes on until the wedding."

Arya accepted Jon's hand and permit him to conduct her across the empty hallways. No guard followed them and the silence was getting almost physical.

"I would like to hear what you have to say about the arrangement." Jon finally summoned the courage to break the silence between them. "Judging by your bite, I dare say you are not pleased with the idea."

They walked a few more steps without Arya speaking so much of a word.

"Arya, please…" He closed his eyes, clearly distressed with the whole situation.

"What do you want me to say? You came to me this afternoon telling me of the perspective of my return to Winterfell attached to a marriage that I've never wished for, but you forgot to mention that you are the one that I'll call husband. Are you expecting me to be thrilled by the news or are you expecting me to do something stupid that might endanger not only me but also my whole family? I know how vulnerable my position is and I know my place. If the war taught me anything was adaptation and to recognize when I have no chance of winning." She replied in a barely contained tone. "I wish you had been honest with me."

"The gods know that I tried to." Jon said firmly. "Months ago you asked me to talk with the Queen in your behalf and so I did. Sansa was doing as much as she could to guarantee that you and Rickon would return to Winterfell, but, truth be told, Daenerys wasn't receptive to the idea of granting you and Rickon so much power. The solution was perfectly clear. You had to marry someone loyal to the Iron Throne and whose reputation was unquestionable, just to make sure that The North would still be loyal to the Targaryens. There were plenty of suitors to your hand and inheritance, but I wonder if you would have ever let any of those men live after the bedding. I presented myself as s suitor and Sansa accepted in your behalf because she knew you wouldn't try to harm me."

"So you think of me as a mad woman with a thirst for blood, just like everyone else. Thank you, Jon. That was quite reassuring." She replied with a scorn. Jon stopped right away and turned to look at her with barely contained frustration.

"Have you heard anything that I've said to you this afternoon?" He asked harshly. "You asked if your betrothed knew of the North and the winter, what he knew of Winterfell and the Stark's words. I am half Stark myself, Arya. That is my home as much as it is yours. I've never rose a finger against you and I do not intent on doing so now. What more do you expect of a man to find him worthy of you?"

"I don't know. Perhaps that he wasn't my brother." She said out of anger, without realizing how much her words hurt him.

"I am not your brother." He answered plainly. "I am your cousin and soon to be husband. You better put this notions behind you."

"Why would you agree with this marriage anyway? You would be a wealthy man and Warden of the North. Is that what you wish? To take my father and Robb's place?" As soon as the words got out of her mouth Jon grabbed her by her arms with such angry in his eyes that for a second Arya considered the he might hit her. She tried to debate and put her hands between their bodies in an instinctive movement. His grasp relaxed a bit.

"For someone as clever and intelligent as you are, you can be terribly naïve at times." His voice sounded exhausted. "I worry about you."

"Tell me something that I don't know." She said. Although she sounded frightened, Arya's words were the same she used earlier that day. Jon closed his eyes for a second before he could look at her.

"I'm in love with you." He said looking into her eyes. "And I would never make a jest of such a thing."

She knew the words, but somehow their meaning got lost in her brain, as if they had been spoken in a foreign language that she never learned. Her eyes searched all over Jon's face for a sign that all of that nonsense was nothing but a bad taste joke, without success. His hands released her arms and Arya gave a few steps back as if she was before a predator.

Despite of his new sigil and that he was no longer her brother, he looked just like Jon Snow, the person she have always trusted and treasured. Even though she was certain that this whole thing of political marriage could be much worst, Arya wasn't sure if she was detached enough for him to accept to be his wife, with all the implications of the title. Nor was she prepared to come to terms with that surreal revelation.

She must have scared the seven hells out of him given to Jon's expression. He made a move, trying to touch her once more, but again Arya backed up.

"Arya, please…"Anxiety transpired from him and his words.

"I don't understand." She finally spoke. Arya had pretended to be a grown up woman for years, she learned how to live by herself and how to face death without a drop of doubt, but to face Jon and his revelation was far beyond her abilities.

"Maybe you don't have to." Jon replied in resignation. "I've tried to play this game to your benefit and my peace of mind. I would never trust any of the other suitors with your life, no matter how rich, highborn or honorable they might be. Let's just say that I want to go home too and that I can be a good husband to you. Forget what I've just said and pretend that this conversation never happened. I know what I feel and I'll live by my heart, but you have no obligations to me in this matter. I'll be good to you, that much you can rest assure of. And please, Arya…"Jon took a deep breath. "Don't ever be afraid of me again."

Jon raised his face and offered her his arm with no further words to her. Arya wanted to ask so many questions to him, but they all got stuck in her throat. She let him conduct her to her room and wondered if what Jon claimed to feel for her was as serious as it looked like. She had seen couples in love before, but never really understood the feeling.

Jon stopped by her door and kissed her forehead. He used to kiss her that way when she was a child and he was her favorite sibling. Certainly it wasn't the same situation now. He was her betrothed and had just claimed to be in love with her. She thought that he would want to kiss her in a different way. The way knights kiss their ladies in the songs, but Jon never did it and somehow it made her think that maybe he hadn't like the first one.

"Sweet dreams, my lady." He said to her as tenderly as he ever had and then left her alone with her thoughts.

Arya changed her clothes for a night gown and laid in her bed with her eyes wide open. She touched her lips with the tips of her fingers, feeling the ghosts of two kisses. The one that Jon gave her at the banquet, and the one that never came.

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The days passed by while Jon watched the arrangements for his wedding from a safe distance. Sansa was taking care of nearly everything without ever bother to consult him in the matter. He tried to complain once, but all he got from Lady Arryn was that "his opinions about decoration weren't really necessary".

Arya hadn't spoke as much as a word to him in those days and the lack of interaction was driving him crazy. He looked to his wedding garments and wondered what was the point of so much care for an unwanted marriage.

Daenerys wasn't pleased about it, because he would have control over half of the country; Aegon wasn't pleased, because Jon actually had a say in the choice of his bride; Sansa wasn't pleased, because despite of his title and surname he would always be her bastard brother and therefore she had two reasons against Jon marrying her sister; and Arya…Arya wasn't pleased because she never wanted to marry anyone and he knew it since she was five.

Not even he was pleased with the situation, since his bride – who he truly loved and cared about – was feeling miserable about the whole thing. At least the return of Tyrion Lannister to court gave him something to occupy his mind with until the wedding, although Jon wasn't if his tolerance to alcohol would ever be enough to keep Tyrion company.

"You look almost as happy as I was when I married Sansa." The Imp said muffling a laugh. "For someone who claims to love his future wife, you don't look that happy, Jon."

"Maybe because I blew my chance of happiness and it didn't even require a dragon to do so." Jon said before drying a cup of wine in a single gulp. "How was it like to be despised by your own wife?"

"Now you are getting ti all wrong, Your Highness. There is a huge difference between my situation and yours. My family had made Sansa a hostage and killed her family, while yours, despite the current grey scenario, always treated Lady Arya properly. Besides, the girl had always loved you, Snow. You are overreacting to one awkward conversation with a poor choice of words."

"I don't know what to do." Jon replied with a sight while watching Tyrion read an absurdly thick tome of The History of The Night's Watch, by Maester Sam Tarly.

"You'll fulfill your promises to her and hope that it will be enough. Marrying you is probably the best scenario Lady Arya would ever found in this game and I'm pretty sure that she knows it. She just need time to come to terms with the notion. Of course that you should think twice before telling a girl that you love her. It gives to women a ridiculous amount of power over our lives and reason." Tryrion turned another page of the book before looking at him. "By the way, pay my compliments to your friend. He does have a serious talent with the pen. This book is proving to be highly entertaining so far."

"I'm sure that Sam will be pleased with the compliment." They heard a knock at the door that soon was followed by Pod's entrance. The man was tall and well built. Rumor had it that the ladies all over King's Landing would give an eye, or two to have a chance with Podrick, but the guy took the white cloak pretty seriously to ever break his vows.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Your Highness." Pod said reverently. "The Queen sent me to escort you."

"It's time." Said Jon without much enthusiasm. "Thank you, Ser Podrick."

"Since Jeoffrey's death nothing scares me more than a wedding. Lucky me that I'm not even part of the family this time." Tyrion said while rising from his sit. "Have I told you how glad I am to see you, Pod?"

"Not really, my lord." The knight answered with a shy smile.

Although he had been very specific about having the wedding perform by the tradition of the North, both Sansa and the Queen agreed that a royal wedding should be performed before the eyes of the whole city. Therefore, the Great Spet of Baelor was the only place able to accommodate such a huge amount of guest and also allow to the peasants to get a glimpse of the new couple.

Arya was not particularly loved by the people, but since rumors of her likeness to Lyanna were spread her popularity increased dramatically. Jon, on the other hand, was far more popular than his brother for both his military success and the history of his parents' love story. For all those reasons, the city was crowded and while the royal procession followed the path to the Great Sept, thousands subject applauded and shouted their approval to the new dynasty.

He was at the Septs door when her litter arrived. Sansa conducted her sister to his side and checked on Arya's looks one more time before the ceremony. It wasn't necessary, though. She was flawless like the beauty of the North during springtime. Her hair was carefully curled and combed in a cascade falling thru her hack. He had a crown with roses motives made just for her, with gold flowers carved with sapphires. Jon had thought that her dress would be grey and white, but Sansa surprised him by dressing Arya all in white and making her look like the Maid personified. There was a reason for it and Jon knew all of Arya's bloody past, but for a moment even he believed that his bride was an angel.

"You look stunning." Sansa said with a gentle smile to reassure Arya. "I only wish that father and mother could see you right now." And that was a feeling all of them shared. Sansa turned to him with a much more sober expression. "I trust you to take good care of her and Winterfell. I like to believe that my father raised you to be like he was, an honorable man, so be it."

Lady Aryn took her place at the Sept with her two-years-old son by her side, letting Jon and Arya alone for the first time in weeks. Jon offered her his arm in silence and waited for Arya to accept it.

"You better hold any comment about this ridiculous dress to yourself, or I swear that I'll punch you." Jon muffled a laugh at her comment.

"She is right. You do look stunning." Jon said without looking at her and feeling all the anxiety take place. "As for Lord Stark and Lady Catlyn, I like to believe that they can see you right now. Although I doubt that your mother would ever be happy with me as her son-in-law, I'm sure they are happy to see you safe."

"I wish they were here. I wish they were waiting for us at Winterfell." She said in a shaky voice.

"That I can't give you, but believe me when I say that I share the feeling." His voice was gentle and sincere. "I may not be your brother, or the boy who went to the Wall all those years ago, but I still can be a family to you, Arya."

"First things first. Let's not make plans before this day is over. Nobody knows what might happen during a royal wedding. The precedents are not that good." Even though the topic was hardly appropriated, Jon couldn't contain his laugh.

"As you wish, my lady."

The anthems at the Sept started, announcing the entrance of the couple. Jon took a deep breath and noticed that Arya did just the same before they could give their first step side by side.

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She could barely breathe and the corset wasn't entirely to blame for it. She couldn't believe that she was actually entering the Great Sept to get married. Worst of all, she couldn't believe that Jon was the one she was supposed to marry and that she never found it in herself to run away and avoid the whole thing as much as she could.

Arya looked at the High Septon but couldn't hear a word of what was being said to them. Her heart was beating in a frenetic pace inside her chest. She looked over her shoulders and found Sansa staring at her with a face that said "just breathe and smile".

During all those weeks she had wanted to confront Jon about his confession. She wanted to find some sense in his words, but all to no avail since Sansa wouldn't let her get close to him without a chaperone. For some odd reason the Lady of The Vale had the strange idea the Jon might burn some stages of courtship and that was the reason why Arya was still having a hard time trying to figure out things for herself.

Sansa tried to have her involved with the wedding plans, but truth be told, Arya never cared for those things. She tried to have a say about the dress she was supposed to wear, but although Sansa was fully aware that Arya favored the grey fabric, Lady Aryn determinate that her gown should be snow white.

And that wasn't even the worst part. Arya could still remember very clearly the day that Sansa knocked at her door and claimed she needed to talk to her little sister. Arya was just fine with their mutual effort to get over their differences and be real sister to each other, but she still had a hard time accepting all of Sansa's notions. She offered Lady Aryn the benefit of the doubt and came to regret it dearly.

"It should be mother the one to talk to you about it, but since she isn't here anymore and you never listened as much of a word of what Septa Mordane used to tell us, I assumed the task." Sansa said while sitting on Arya's bed.

"Is this another speech of how important this marriage is and that it's my duty to secure that Rickon will have a decent future despite the fact that the kid is almost savage?" Arya asked with a brow arched and Sansa walked her with a hint of sympathy.

"How much do you know about what happens between a man and a woman on their wedding night?" Now everything was clear, but no less awkward.

Arya probably knew much more about it than any noble woman should, but preferred to omit it. She had seen the whores and the courtesans in Braavos with their clients. She had talked with all those women about a thousand times and heard their tales, but although she had even seduced a man in order to give him the gift, Arya never really got to the end of it. Truth be told, the descriptions of the act conflicted themselves to much for her to ever think about it.

"I have a notion of it." She said suspiciously, making Sansa sight.

"You'll need more than just a notion. I surely don't want you to have a panic attack." Sansa was way too polite to laugh at her, but Arya could tell that it was precisely what her sister would like to do. "I realized that maybe because you and Jon had always been so close it might be more uncomfortable than the usual."

"I thought that knowing him was something to work on my advantage." Arya said carefully.

"And it is, but…If we had always known Jon as our cousin, or if he was nothing to us but a friend, things would be much easier. The truth is that I'm worried that you might never forget that he was once our brother and not all of us have the benefit of a Targaryen name to ease our consciences." Sansa smiled at her and for a moment Arya could swear that her mother was there, at the corner of her sister's blue eyes. "Both of you will be naked in front of each other and probably for the first time you will see Jon as a man and not as your heroic half-brother. He will touch you and kiss you. He may know how to make it feel good, or he may not, but eventually he will lay you on the matters and spread your legs. It will hurt but you better keep calm and let him finish. Call him by sweet names, pretend that you enjoy it even if you don't. As soon as you conceive a child you will have a perfect excuse to avoid him for almost a year."

"It was what you did?" Arya asked almost terrified. Sansa just looked at her for a moment.

"This talk is not about me." Sansa shut her off. "I would never put you in this place if there were any better option. Despite everything, it gives me some peace of mind to think that Jon will take care of you. He is honorable and kind, he will take you home, keep you safe and let you be as wild as you've ever been. I like to think that this is all that father would wish for you and after the war…I don't want you to ever know what I've been thru with Jeoffrey and Littlefinger."

After such a speech, Arya really didn't know what to say to her sister. Instead of answering to Sansa she simply sat by her sister side and held her hand. Although they had never been really close, she supposed that she oath her sister at least some sympathy since they were at the same side.

Everything would change by the end of that day. She tried to not think about it…About Jon and their wedding night. Jon put his dark cloak around her shoulders and then she watched the High Septon wrapping a fine ribbon around their hands while the exchanged their vows. It was all said and done and when the crowd shouted in approval to the new couple Jon lowered his head and claimed her mouth as he had done weeks ago. To her peace of mind, at least Arya was sure that Jon knew how to kiss her.

At the wedding feast they sat side by side and shared the same plate and goblet. Jon saved her generous portions of every meat served at the banquet, but her stomach wasn't interested in cooperate with her. Instead of eating, she chose to drink.

"You may wish to have a bite or two, if you intent to keep drinking like this." Jon whispered to her at some point of the celebration.

"I can take care of myself, thank you." She replied in a very unladylike manner. She felt Jon's hand over hers almost instantly.

"I know that you are nervous right now but wine won't help you. Fear not. I'm far from being your enemy."

Maybe the wine altered her perception of time, but when the calls for the bedding started, Arya could swear that it was too early for that. She grabbed a knife from the table and got ready to rip the throat of anyone who tried to take of her clothes. Aegon was the one to first lay a hand on her arm, but before the prince could do anything, Jon grabbed him by the wrist.

"Would you be so kind and let go of my lady's arm, brother?" He whispered in a tone that lived no room for doubt about what he was capable of.

"It's the tradition." Aegon answered with a pleasant smile.

"And I won't have myself and Arya exposed to such humiliation. You want us to go to our chambers? Fine. We shall go, but none of us will tolerate this ridiculous ritual." Jon's voice was so dark and dangerous that one could accuse him of threatening his brother. He offered her his hand and Arya accepted it immediately. "Come with me, my love."

They walked thru the crowd together with all the praying eyes following their steps. She had a glimpse of Sansa but she couldn't say if it was piety or worry on her sister's eyes.

Jon saved his words during the path to their chambers where a couple of maids were waiting for her. Arya looked at Jon suspiciously and he offered her a gentle smile.

"They will help you with your gown. I will wait here while you change your clothes." Arya nodded before entering the room.

The door was closed behind her and Arya let the girls undo the laces of her gown and corset without really noticing it. Jon was surely a strange man for what she had seen and heard from other women in Braavos. If he wanted to see her undressing, he would be within his rights to do so. If he wanted to take her there and then we would also be allowed to, but instead he gave her time and space to have that moment for herself. Maybe she could persuade him to postpone that night. Maybe she could buy herself time. Time to what, idiot? It's not like as if they would ever annul this wedding.

She took a look around the room and noticed how carefully it had been prepared. The bed was covered with white linen sheets and dark fur. There was food and wine over the table and flowers, winter roses, by the bed. The maids bowed to her when Arya got ready for the night and stepped back until they got to the door. Arya took a deep breath and waited.

His steps were slow and calculated while he entered the room. She heard the door being closed again and his breathe across the space between them. Her heart was sounding as loud as a drum. Arya made no move, nor turned to face him. The sound of buttons and buckles being undone was somehow frightening. She finally saw him at the corner of her eye. Jon was doing nothing but walk across the room only in breeches.

His back and chest were covered with long silvery white scars and at the end of his belly a path of dark hair that ended at his breeches. He poured some wine to himself and drunk it calmly without uttering a single word to her. Was this whole thing some kind of game?

"You are so quiet." She finally broke the silence between them. Jon smiled lightly at her.

"I was just giving you time. You would talk to me when you felt like it." There was a hint of humor in his voice. "I can only imagine how much Sansa must have scared you these days. You were truly the most beautiful bride, but your face was as pale as a ghost."

"Let us say that she wasn't the ideal person to talk to me about wedding nights." Arya said finally feeling her tension increasing. Jon offered her a cup of wine and she accepted. "I truly can't remember a single dish from the feast."

"There was a wedding pie because I recall Podrick complaining about pigeon's shit on his cloak." Jon said while trying to sound serious, without much success. Arya let a small laugh escape.

"If Sansa helped to organize the whole thing we can also be sure that there were plenty of lemon cakes too." She said in a light tone, making Jon laugh openly. "Gods…I've really missed your smile." She let that tiny confession escape from her lips without even noticing that she had actually said it out loud. That was all the encouragement that Jon needed to come closer.

"I've missed yours too." He replied calmly. "Arya…May I ask you something?"

"Well, you are my damn husband now. There's very little that you can't do with me." She replied with a scorn.

"Are you angry with me for all of this?" He asked while he walked to their bed to sit.

"Not at you. I really never wanted to be married and you know it. I wanted to do things on my own, take the reins over my own life. I grew much used to a certain autonomy during the war and I don't really know if I'll ever learn to behave like a proper lady or wife." Her answer was honest. "I wouldn't have approved of any suitor and there's really no one that I wish to marry, so I guess that you are the best deal that I would get. I trust you and this is something I really don't do these days."

"I'm really glad to know it." He smiled at her once more. "There's anything that you wanna ask me?"

"Are you really in love with me?" She could tell that this was the one million golden dragons question by the way Jon's face got sober.

"Yes, I am." He said. "You don't need to worry about it. I'm not asking you to feel the same about me."

"How in the seven hells that happened?" She finally asked what was killing her inside for weeks.

"I wish that I knew the answer for this. I am as northerner as you and we were both raised to never expect for love, only for duty." He sighted. "You came back when I thought you were dead. I had no one else and you came to Castle Black with a sword in hand and calling my name. Despite of the battle, I hadn't been that happy for a long time. The war was over and you came to King's Landing. All I wanted to do was to spend a year talking with you and trying to make you smile again. I guess that I realized that something was different when I overheard some knights talking about you and how comely you were. I thought about sending them to the dragons' pit that day and after that I dreamed about you constantly and not always in an honorable way. I've became a greedy man; one that can't tolerate the idea of sharing your smiles, your touches and your affections with another. I don't know if it answers your question, but it's the best that I can do."

"That's probably enough for a day." She said airily.

"Anything else?" Jon asked before finishing his cup of wine and putting it aside.

"Will you hurt me?" Another question that came out of her mouth before Arya could have the chance to really think about it.

"Not if I can help it." Jon replied sincerely while raising from the bed and walking toward her.

Jon took her by the nape before Arya could even acknowledge his approach, keeping her close to him. He caressed her face gently with his thumbs while looking her in the eyes. Arya closed her eyes and waited for him to do the next move. He kissed her right cheek and then he kissed the left before claiming her lips fiercely.

She threw her arms around his neck to get some stability. Her knees were shaky and not much trustworthy at the time. She barely noticed the moment Jon wrapped his arms around her waist and lift her up as if she was as light as a feather. He carried her in a clumsy way to their bed and laid her there.

It was him to break the kiss and to look her in the eyes before doing anything else. Arya was trying to recover her breath while she thought about everything Sansa had said to her all at once. Suddenly she was afraid and unsure of what to do or how to feel about Jon, but there was this unbearable curiosity that kept her wondering "what next?".

Jon unlaced the knots of her nightgown and took the piece of cloth over her head. Her first reaction was to cover her breasts with her arms. Both of you will be naked in front of each other and probably for the first time you will see Jon as a man and not as your heroic half-brother. Sansa's words kept hounding her memory. It was the first time he was seeing her naked, what if he didn't like the view? She wasn't the perfect and beautiful Sansa. She was nothing but the plain Arya-Horse-Face.

She was nude and naked under Jon's body. He touched her arms and then her waist before kissing her neck, making her shiver. Arya clawed his back in response making him growl against the skin or her neck. That was probably the most gorgeous sound she ever heard.

"You are beautiful." He whispered in a husky voice close to her ear. Not boyish, not ugly, not skinny, or chubby, not even pretty…He called her beautiful and she loved him for that because for the first time it sounded as truth.

Her fingers got lost among the curls of his dark hair while Jon kissed her from neck to breasts none stopping. She never thought someone would ever do such a thing, not with a lady at least, but he took one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked it so hard that it almost hurt. Arya threw her head back, delighted in such a sweet sensation. It was pain except it wasn't. She seemed to be incapable of describing it properly. That he repeated it with her other nipple and Arya moaned. It was all so foreign and also so thrilling that she only wished it to keep that good.

Jon stopped what he was doing to look at her with a smirk playing on his lips. It was more frustrating than she could tell. His mouth got close to her ear again. He kissed, licked and bitted her earlobe making her close her eyes.

"If you feel like screaming, do it. If you feel like moaning, for the seven hells; do it." His voice was incredibly husky and alluring. "Don't fight your instincts now. Let them rule and I'll be yours to command."

It was when she felt him touching her between her legs. His callous hands rubbing against her folds, opening them carefully. He was right. She wanted to moan again and so she did. He paid special attention to a little bud just above her entrance, making her body shiver under his.

He kept his finger moving for a while, making her moans more frequent. She was startled when he slid one of his fingers inside her, making steady movements and making her see stars. Soon he slid another one, starching her…Preparing her, she guested. He certainly knew how to touch her, how to make her wanting more. At this point she was certain that there would be more soon enough.

She felt his wet kisses being placed all over her skin, from her neck to her belly and below. A sort of expectation lighted within her and Arya wondered how much better it could be. He traced her bellybutton the tip of his tongue just before giving it an open mouthed kiss that made her toes curl.

All of his attention would have sufficed to demystify everything that Sansa had said to her, but Jon seemed determinate to drive Arya mad. His mouth finally reached the same spot between her legs that he had tended with such care. He licked and sucked it, while his fingers kept moving in and out of her.

The closest thing that she had to compare all those foreign sensations was the sky. She felt like the blue and undisturbed blue sky that suddenly get covered by dark and heavy clouds. There was a storm within her. Her pounding heart was the sound of distant thunders. There was a storm coming and Jon seemed to be quite aware of the fact.

Her toes curled while Arya threw her head back and grabbed Jon by his hair, keeping him in place. His mouth, his devious mouth savored every single bit of her just like the direwolves would do to their prays. She shut her eyes and bitted her inferior lip until she gave up resisting the long and loud moan that sounded very much like his name. Then everything around her became nothing but a blur. Arya felt her body become a boneless mess and thought that she had just died.

"Like that, did you?" His voice sounded close to her ears, all too pleased with himself. She couldn't find the words to answer.

Jon got out of the bed and Arya looked at him with confusion. He hadn't finished, had he? She could say for sure. Was that enough for them to conceive a baby? Well…She hoped not. She could do with a little more practice.

She observed while he unlaced his breeches and got rid of the last piece of clothing. The first time she saw him as a man and not as her heroic half-brother…

His body was lean and muscled. His skin matched hers in fairness and Arya thought about how smooth it was to her touch. The dark curls at the end of his abdomen formed a path to his manhood.

It was strange somehow because before that moment Arya never knew that she found his kind of beard attractive, or that she had an awkward fascination for a man's legs and hands. She never noticed how inviting broad shoulders could be, nor that she prefers dark hair instead of blond. That was the point, wasn't it? To see Jon as a man and not as some legend, but was it part of the deal to find this man attractive and to feel that undeniable desire to touch…To lick…To kiss and to bite him until her hungry was satisfied? She didn't think so.

He was at full mast as the men in Braavos would say. She knew what that meant and she couldn't avoid feeling proud of it. After all, Jon had been the one to look for the marriage and the one to say that she was beautiful. Arya realized with satisfaction what that meant. She was the one to do that. She had that kind of power over him.

"Do you like what you see?" Jon dragged her back to reality with that question while approaching her again.

"It's kind of interesting." She replied with a smirk.

She got on her knees trying to reach his face with her hands. Jon raised a brow and she supposed that maybe she was being inappropriate. He had no one to blame but himself for her curiosity. Arya kissed him with a hunger that she have never felt before. Jon answered it with enthusiasm.

He felt on top of her, never letting go of her mouth. His weight on top of her had a certain appeal but Arya was a bit tired of being the one under his domination. She enlaced his hips with her legs, feeling him rubbing against her entrance, to revert the position. Jon looked at her startled when he saw Arya naked on top of him, with a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

She moved her hips and Jon growled involuntarily. Her smile got wider and Jon grabbed her by her legs, scratching her pale skin.

"Ride me." He growled again. Jon took his cock into his hand and positioned at her wet entrance without looking away from her face. "Do as I say."

And so she did.

At first Arya felt the intrusion, the discomfort of making room inside her to accommodate him. She shut her eyes and her mouth fell open, but she only protested when Jon was already halfway. Something inside her resisted and hurt. She tried to avoid, to stop and then she considered getting away. Jon must have noticed and to prevent her from doing so he rubbed his fingers against that tiny spot again. It wasn't fair game. Arya moaned and he seized the moment to pull her down.

She cried out in protest and scratched his chest in retaliation making him bite his lower lip. Why did she found that gesture so exquisite and tempting, she would never know. The pain slowly faded away and she started to move, riding him as Jon have asked. His hands were open, positioned at the small of her back until he decided that her ass was a much more interesting spot.

Arya would never forget the way he looked at her at that moment. Eyes darkened with desire and full of adoration. If that wasn't power, she would never know what it is. As she increased the pace Jon's hands became more greed, roaming all over her body. Her hips danced on top of him while she tried to get some support with her hands at his chest. Eventually her legs got tired and the rhythm no longer felt right.

Jon held her by her waist and inverted the positions, pinning her against the mattress by her wrists. It was his turn to move and impose his rhythm. His mouth took her in a passionate kiss. Their tongues danced around each other while both of them got close to the edge.

The last sound that came out of her mouth was his name in a growl, a few seconds before he call for hers.

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Sleeping was overrated, he soon found out. That night neither of them had the chance to rest much. Jon managed to rest for a couple of hours until he felt her hands roaming over his naked body. He considered it an invitation.

Arya felt asleep within his arms but her sleep was a restless one. She turned and moved none stopping, making it too hard for him to get some rest. He got bored and she woke up with him already inside of her without any complain.

When morning came and he woke up from the brief rest Arya was already awake and staring at the canopy. He admired her profile for a while, dazzled by her infinite contradictions, mesmerized by how much he came to love that girl.

"A copper for your thoughts." Jon said with a faint smile on his face. Arya sighted.

"I was worried that you might want me again and I don't know if I will be able to walk properly after all we've done." She said trying to sound serious about it. Jon laughed heartily.

"Fear not, wife. I'll let you rest for the day." He answered with humor. "Are you hating me now?"

"Why would I hate you?" She turned her head to face him with a raised brow.

"Maybe because of our past; maybe because you don't see me as anything but your brother; maybe because I'm stupid." He said making her roll her eyes.

"I've always knew that you were stupid and if it had any relevance I would have treated you as I used to treat Sansa. As for our past and seeing you as my brother…I don't know. Sometimes I have this feeling that we are doing something wrong, but then you start to snore and I realize that if you were any other man I would have already cut your throat for it. I don't hate you, as you can see. Let the past be the past might take some time, but I guess I'll have to come to terms with the notion." Her answer was sincere.

"Mind your tongue, my lady. I don't snore." He teased her and Arya laugh.

"Yes, you do. I wonder if I would ever laugh with any other man after my wedding night." She said while she got close to him to rest her head against his chest.

"I wonder if I would ever let any man have the chance of having a wedding night with you. You see, I had this plan. It basically consisted in trivial accidents like them falling on my blade several times before dying. Very neat, don't you think?" He said before kissing her head.

"My favorite kind of plan." Her answer was light as a feather. "I don't think that I would ever feel as I feel with you."

"And how is that?"

"More like the girl that I was before the war. The one that had a home and a family, a name and dreams of being a knight instead of a lady. I've wore masks for far too long, but with you I can be myself."

"You have a home and you have a family in me, I hope you to know that. You also have a name and it is Arya Targaryen, even if both of us have issues with it. You are still a lady, and a princess, but you also fight better than most knights that I know, and I've never wished for you to be anything else but yourself." He caressed her face and kissed her mouth lightly.

"Take me home, Jon." She asked between kisses.

"As you wish, love."

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It took them almost a month to leave King's Landing and another month to arrive at Winterfell. Sansa had bid them farewell at the city gates with tears in her eyes. Arya couldn't help feeling sad. It was, after all, the last time she would see her sister in a long time and the year of war had brought them together in a way she never thought possible. In some ways was like saying good bye to her mother.

They hugged each other and Sansa reminded her that she wasn't supposed to ride during the journey. If Arya was with child it wouldn't be good for the baby, was what Sansa said. Jon assured his now sister-in-law that he would take good care of Arya, but truly…None of them really expected Jon to actually get some control over his half wildling wife.

During the travel thru the King's Road she reminded of so many episodes, both good and bad, that it made her feel as if she was time travelling straight back to the past. Arya saw the places where she had practiced with Mikah and where she had hit Jeoffrey with a club. At the Inn at the Crossroad she cried alone for Lady and for her dead friend, she cried for her sister, her father and for herself until Jon came around and hugged her tightly.

Finally they arrived at Winterfell. At this point the winter cold was fading, giving room to the first days of spring. Jon had sent word for the builders to make the necessary repairs so the castle would be ready for them when they arrived. Arya closed her eyes and felt to her knees feeling the familiar smell and hearing the familiar sounds. She could almost see them waiting at the gates; her lady mother, her lord father, Robb, Bran and baby Rickon.

"We are at home again." Jon said while offering her his hand to help Arya back to her feet. "Would you accompany me to the godswood?" She nodded in acceptance.

The walked in silence for a while until Jon was certain that there was nobody near to see him holding her hand. It was probably the most intimate moment they ever shared; a lonely walk to the godswood hearing the whispers of their past. They sat under the heart tree, in the same place Eddard Stark used to stay while honing Ice.

Jon put her arms around her and they stayed like that for a long while. For the first time in forever they've made peace with themselves and the world.

"I think we should ask the Queen to send Rickon to us. The boy could use a family." Jon said lazily. "It will be good to have some noise around here, maybe some laughs too. I'm not used with the emptiness and the silence."

"Neither am I." She agreed. "Maybe Sansa was right. I should give you sons and this place will look like more of a home and less of a ruin."

"As if one could control such a thing." Jon scorned. "I'm sure that children will come in due time. No need to hurry."

"But you would like that, wouldn't you?" Arya asked with a raised brow. Jon kissed her cheek.

"Of course that I would. In fact there's nothing that I want more than children around here. Boys and girls alike, running around with sticks in hand pretending to be knights and dragon slayers, hearing to one of Old Nan's stories, calling us father and mother." He sighted. She could almost see that scene. Arya could tell by his voice that he craved for every single bit of that; his long lost bastard's dream. "But as I said, they will come in due time and we shall enjoy each other for a while."

Arya smiled lightly while she took his hand in hers putting them over her covered stomach. She admired their fingers entwined.

"It might not take as much time as you think."

Author's Note: You guys might be wondering why I wrote this, because in fact it is so cliché that almost hurt. It's a bit PWP too, but really….I don't care. I've been reading a lot about Sansa and Arya, about their differences and points of view. Sansa is still far from being my favorite character, but I guess that I've made peace with her. I wanted to ride something that would talk about the Stark sisters' relationship and how important they become to each other as a family reference. I also wanted to explore a bit of Arya's insecurities about her looks and her role as a noble woman. More than another JonxArya, I wanted to write about the sister's relationship and their conflicting points of view about their role in society, family, duty and love. I hope you'll like it. I missed the fandom and long month without putting two words together nearly killed me with depression.

Give me a bit of your love in reviews form, will you?

Lots of love

Bee