Arya

She had only been sailing for a month before she reached land. She had thought it would be much longer than that; after all, nobody had ever found what was west of Westeros before. But she soon realized it was only an island. A small one, and one that made her feel strange as they approached. When the boat docked, she found herself on a beach of the whitest sand she had ever seen, but it was covered by a sheer cliff face that blocked off the rest of the island. The only way she could see off the beach was a tunnel that seemed to go through the cliff.

"Stay here," she said to her men. "It might not be safe."

"We're here to protect you, princess."

"Don't call me that."

"Your sister is Queen of the North."

"And I'm not."

"Well anyway, she instructed us to keep you safe."

"I'll be fine."

Before they could argue, she headed into the tunnel, eager to see the rest of the island. But something along the edge of the tunnel caught her eye. A cave, and it was glowing. She turned into it, and saw a strange box. Next to it was a dusty scroll that looked like it hadn't been read in hundreds, maybe thousands, of years. She picked the scroll up and opened it.

Sansa

Sansa stood by the gate, hardly able to contain her excitement. She had been unsure if she would ever see Arya again, and now here she was, coming home, after just two months! What could she possibly have found that had halted her in her quest? The letter had been oh-so-vague. But she didn't care; she was going to see her sister again. She wished she hadn't left. Arya had longed for adventure since they were children, but after everything they had been through, she had hoped they would stick together. With Jon up in the north, and visits from him likely quite rare, and Bran busy in King's Landing, Sansa was getting lonely in Winterfell, surrounded by memories of a childhood long gone.

"Arya Stark has arrived," said a voice, and the gates opened.

When she saw her sister standing there, she couldn't stop herself, and ran to hug her before she could realize how un-queenly that probably looked.

"Your Grace."

"How was the journey? You must tell me everything."

"I will. But I need to speak with you alone."

"Of course." Now Sansa was starting to get worried. She walked with Arya into her chambers and shut the door. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"Why'd you have to leave?"

"I'm glad I did. Because you'll never believe what I found."

"What could possibly be so important you came all the way home just to show me?"

Arya reached into her bag and pulled out a wooden box. "This."

Sansa frowned. "What is it?"

"According to the scroll I found, it's a device that lets you travel through time."

"What?"

"It says that it will bring you back to a previous point in your life, but with all the memories of what's to come. Says that you can change the past."

"That can't be real."

"Can't it?"

"Magic is dangerous, risky, rarely works well, from what I hear..."

"Magic brought Jon back to life."

"It also turned Bran into... well he's not really Bran anymore, is he?"

"Not fully, no. And wouldn't it be nice if we could change that? And imagine what else. We could save Father, we could save Mother, and Robb, and Rickon."

"Or we could kill everyone. Are you really suggesting this?" It was taking almost everything in her power not to jump immediately on board with Arya's plan; the thought of having her family back was enough to overpower her. But she also knew the dangers must be severe.

"I am. It says the magic will work on two people."

"So... what, the two of us?"

"Yes. We go back to when it all began. The day King Robert arrived at Winterfell."

"And what's the cost of this magic?"

"Only one drop of blood from each of us."

"Oh, is that all?"

"A single drop of blood."

"Blood magic has consequences."

"I'll pay that price."

"Where did you find this box?"

"In a cave on a mysterious island."

"Arya!"

"I know, it sounds stupid and risky. But sometimes you have to take risks to get a reward that's worth it. And our family is worth it."

"Do you really think we could save them?"

"I don't know. But I think it's worth trying."

"I'll think about it. I'll let you know tomorrow."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

Arya

The next day, Arya went to breakfast with her breath held. Sansa just had to say yes, didn't she? She had come all the way back here for this opportunity, and it was worth it, no matter the cost. She loved Sansa, and Jon, and Bran, even with his strange magic ways, but their family was broken, wrong, without all the people they had lost, and the chance to bring them back made her not care to contemplate the risk. But when she walked in, Sansa was holding a raven scroll. "Sansa?"

"It's from Bran. He saw us talking yesterday."

"That's creepy."

"Yes. Well, he advises us not to do it."

"What?"

"He says everything happened for a reason. Says that the white walkers are gone, the kingdoms are safe, and we shouldn't mess with it. Says time travel has consequences, bad things could happen, we could leave things worse than they are now, we could all be dead."

"But it isn't up to him, Sansa. It's your call. We're in the North. What do you say?" She couldn't make out her sister's expression.

"I say that King Three-Eyed Raven might feel that way, but Bran Stark would never say that. He's not Bran anymore, Arya, Bran is dead. I didn't want to believe it, but it's true." She looked on the verge of tears, but her expression was one of steely resolve. "And I want him back. And Robb, and Rickon, and Mother, and Father."

"I want them back too."

"So let's do it. Let's go back and save them."

Arya smiled. "It won't be easy, you know."

"Family never is, is it? But it's worth it."

"Alright. Let's perform that spell."

She placed the box on the table and opened it to reveal a crystal of some kind. Pulling out her blade, she sliced her palm and dripped the blood over the crystal, then handed the blade to Sansa, who did the same. Unrolling the scroll, she read the words at the bottom, and suddenly everything turned to darkness, like she was falling into a void...

...and then her eyes snapped open. She felt immediately different, smaller, slighter. Looking down, she saw herself at eleven years old, and almost screamed for joy. It had worked. They had made it back, or at least she had.

"Arya?" said a voice she hadn't heard in years, and tears sprang to her eyes.

"Yes, Mother?"

She walked into the room, and Arya felt suddenly unable to speak. She wanted to run up and embrace her mother, but she couldn't give herself away. Not yet, at least.

"Get ready. The king arrives today!"

"Of course, Mother."

Catelyn turned and left the room, and Arya sat down on the bed, her head spinning. They had done it. They had completed the easy part. Now they had to save everyone.