Jon Snow left them in the quiet of the Godswood as the depth of the Stark family secret set in. The whisper of Lord Eddard Stark carried with them in their blood and in the leaves. How many times had the Stark Lord father come here to pray about the safety of this child?

"He is going to get himself killed," Arya broke the silence.

"The dragon knows he was to tell us," Bran's voice sounds ever far off in the distance.

"She'll kill him." Sansa draws their eyes to her. The woman with the hair that matches the Godwood's leaves is not the spit of the girl she used to be. She stands proud in the heart of her home. "The south is never good for Stark men."

"He may be half dragon but he's still ours." Arya moved closer, her hands clasped tight in front of her. He had always been her brother. Blood and dragons would never change it now.

"Then what are we to do about it?" Sansa eyed Arya's hands and past them to the dagger that her sister had been given in this very spot.

"She loves him." Bran looked at the empty space where Jon had stood before.

"Seven hells," Arya groaned.

"She loves the throne more." Sansa turned back to the tree with the crying face. "She positioned Gendry for his favor. She raised a toast for the North. She ignores any advice that is not to her liking. " If Sansa had seen the crestfallen face at the mention of the Smith she didn't show it. "She's his aunt."

"The dragons have always keep to each other." Bran recited. "Not always… Baelor locked his sisters in a sept."

"Jon is not like them." Arya interrupted. "But we don't know- her. She might-"

"What does a dragon eat?" Bran asked watching their expressions curious as he could be now.

"Whatever it wants." Sansa echoed. "We must ensure that it doesn't. If she doesn't betray our brother then there is nothing to fear."

"What are you hatching, Sansa?" Arya got her sister's attention. "He swore us not to tell..."

"Father swore the same, and look where it got us. What is honor to the dead? What is honor if it gets our family killed by the dragons or the lions? We are Starks of Winterfell. This is our home." Sansa growled. "He is ours."

"The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives." It almost sounded like their father spoke through Bran, the way he would say it, the tone it would mean.

"Then we don't let him be alone." Arya nods. "Words can cut deeper than swords…"

"To the right person," Sansa smirked.

"You are going to play the game." Arya grinned in return.

"Our father was a good man, we'll keep our honor by defending our family. We'll protect the north from those who would wish to harm it." Sansa looked at her sister, his eyebrow raising. "Do you know what to do?"

"Stick 'em with the pointy end," Arya said, her hand tightening around her own dagger. "I'll leave after the Queen's retinue and while the north men prepare. I'm quiet. Jon won't notice after our partings today. Keep the Knight woman with you, Lady Stark. She won't let anything happen to you."

"I will." Sansa nods. "I don't trust the dragon queen or her men. I trust Cersei even less. I worry what they might be walking into."

"So who will we whisper to?" Arya asks.

"Leave that to me." Sansa turned towards Winterfell. "You managed to escape the Red Keep… Arya, your list…"

"I can finish it." Arya's eyes become vacant as they both imagined a lion down south. "They'll never see me."

"Keep him safe, and if you do execute Cersei…"

"I'll sing you some songs about it." Arya looked back at her with the same fervor. " I might not come back."

"You are the bravest person I know… if anyone could survive…" Sansa reached for her sister's hand.

"No," Arya quickly brushed it aside and straightened her cloak. "For me."

"Where would you go?" Sansa asks.

"Riverlands or the Stormlands." Arya shrugged. " Maybe get a boat that goes West."

"She's hunting a stag." Bran looked at the two of them. "Or a wolf. Or a face."

"And what will you do, Bran?" Arya walked to her brother, eyeing him as the stranger he is now.

"My role here is not done… I suppose I will help Sansa." Bran searched his sister's eyes. "I'll still see you."

Arya swallowed throwing her body on her brother, wrapping him in a hug. His arms don't move, as he doesn't change, or say anything, it is like it was the first time in the same place. There are no more secrets between the two of them. " Maybe I'll go to the wall just to throw you off."

"Maybe you will," He tried to smile, but it is as unnerving as his eyes. "I have many faces."

Something in his words cause Arya to stumble back almost into her sister. "I'll keep him safe." She turns to Sansa. "Don't die Lady Stark." She grins, playing it off.

"You are still strange." Sansa smiles.

"Sansa… Arya…" They turned to Bran as a few leaves of the tree fall with the wind. "When you play the game of thrones… you win or you die."