This was an idea based off a photoset I saw in the far corners of the Internet where they were paralleling Arya Stark's story to the movie Anastasia (aka one of my favorite movies as a child). This fic will contain characters from GoT and the plot based off Anastasia (I own neither).

Chapter 1: Dancing Bears, Painted Wings

Arya Stark was in trouble again but she didn't care. She was dragged out of the fields with her brothers and once again placed in one of those frilly, but woolly dresses once more for the Stark's Winterfell Ball. Her father, Eddard "Ned" Stark was an important man, the Ward of The North, but Arya cared little about her family customs and rituals. She just wanted to get away from from the Lannisters, the Baratheons, and the other families from other Houses, both Great and Minor.

She didn't know why she threw food at her sister Sansa (which hit directly into her forehead, much to her satisfaction), but she was immediately caught by the Kitchen Boy. No one else really saw her, not that she noticed, and despite Sansa making a scene, she only ran off before anyone could really take notice. Most of the partygoers were too busy dancing, anyway.

"Hey! It took Hot Pie forever to make those!" the boy said.

"Does it look like I care, stupid?" The boy was dumbfounded, his blue eyes staring into her grey ones in disdain. Arya's father, Ned suddenly appeared, holding one hand over Arya.

"I will take it from here, Mr. Waters," her father said. The boy have him a shaky smile.

"Yes, M'lord," he bowed and quickly left as though he weren't there.

"Arya," he said with his usual disapproval. "Why do you have to do that to your sister?"

"Because she's flirting with that little rat, Joffrey!" He narrowed his eyes at her. "And she's very annoying," she added. His gaze softened.

"What are we going to do with you, Arya? You're eight years old. Soon enough, you're going to grow into a fine noblewoman and marry and have children." Arya huffed at his words. She didn't need to be reminded of that for the thousandth time!

"But I don't want to become a noblewoman or marry or have children! I want to go on adventures and practice swordfighting and exploring!" she said this with all of her vigor.

Ned sighed at what his daughter had to say. "We will talk about this in the morning." With that, her father left to go talk to his good friend Robert Baratheon. A few moments later, her half-brother Jon Snow appeared. Arya knew that he liked to be withdrawn from the crowds. Her mother didn't take kindly to him, but Arya loved him nevertheless. He was an outsider, much like her. He didn't belong here in this elegant party like Sansa or Robb did.

"That was a nice throw," said Jon.

"Thank you." She gave him a genuine smile.

Jon's face drew closer to her ear. "Come with me, I need to show you something." Arya perked up and evaded the those dancing with success as she followed her brother away into the halls. "I got this made for you the other day." His hands went towards his hip as he unbuckled the small sword strapped to his waist. Arya's eyes widened as he unsheathed the tiny sword.

"Is that really for me?"

"Look." The sword was lovely. It was tiny and silver with a sharp end to it. "Do you like it, little sister?"

"Like it, I love it!" She grabbed the hilt of it and stabbed forward into the air. She caught the kitchen boy with the black hair and blue eyes staring. Before she could yell at him for invading this special moment, he fled. Arya ignored the idiot and hugged her brother.

"I think you should name your sword. Every sword's got to have a name."

Arya thought of a list of possible names. She didn't think it was appropriate for it to have names other Great Swords had nor did she want to name it after anyone at all. She thought of how her family emphasized honor and duty when all that was just sitting around and doing needlework. "Needle. That's what I'll call it."

Jon chuckled, his dark curls bouncing on his face as he did. "That's a fine name. You know how to use it right? You stick 'em with the pointy end!"

"But I know that already, brother!" They both laughed again in unison. Arya didn't want this moment to end, but eventually there came the lull in their conversation. Jon once again had his usual dire expression on his face.

"I want you to have this as well." He took off his grey Stark brooch and pinned it to her dress.

"But-"

"This really shouldn't be on me. You're more worthy of it." They both knew that he was going to head out to the Night's Watch first thing in the morning. In a sort of way, this party was sort of a last hurrah for him. Arya hugged him again.

Boom

"What was that?" they both said out loud. A loud scream was heard from a voice that sounded too much like Arya's mother. Immediately, Jon and Arya peered over into the ballroom to find not only a flurry of guests running around the room chaotically, but the large candlelit chandelier on the floor, broken to pieces, the carpet with the Direwolf insignia was set on fire. On the carpet, Arya could see several dead bodies that were hit on impact, one of them being that of Ned Stark's. Arya didn't know how that happened or who caused that chandelier to fall, but before she could scream, Jon clamped his hand over her mouth.

"We need to escape." Jon paused, noticing that the partygoers had a hard time leaving as all of the main doors were locked and the windows sealed shut.

"HEY!" A voice interrupted. It was the kitchen boy. "I know a secret passage out through the servant's quarters. Follow me!" It looks like this stupid boy isn't so stupid, thought Arya. They went through the small maze that was the servant's quarters just beyond the kitchen. It was already depleted of its servants, as they probably were the first to escape.

They ended up in the underground catacombs, where Aunt Lyanna, Uncle Brandon, their grandparents, and ancestors were buried.

"Thank you, young man," said Jon.

"I should go back in and see who else I can save. Go to the stables and get on a horse over to the next town. Good luck!" The boy retreated back into the quarters. Neither Arya nor Jon didn't notice this, but her brooch had unpinned itself from her and dropped to the snow covered floor.

"He's brave," Arya said. "Brave, but stupid." She could smell Winterfell burning. She hoped she could see her mother and her siblings again as soon as this blows over. She didn't even have enough time to register her father's death.

"We need to go!"

"Where should we go?"

"North."

"North? But it's freezing!"

The sense of urgency was renewed when the smell of smoke filled their lungs. "Come on!" They were trudging their way through the snow and Arya really wished she wasn't in this stupid blue dress. All it did was slow her down. She felt Needle wiggling alongside her waist. She was ready to pull out if she needed to.

The next thing she knew, something, no someone plopped right behind her, seemingly out of nowhere and holding onto her foot. It was a woman with magnificent red hair. She wore nothing but a red cloak. She was mysterious to Arya and unlike anyone or anything she had ever seen. She didn't know why she was here or who sent her.

"Get away from her!" screamed Jon as he kicked the woman. Her arms broke free of Arya. The woman stood still, her red eyes pulling back so that only the whites could be seen. It scared Arya. The next thing she knew, the horses from the stables all broke free of their stalls, running in a frenzied state. Because there was a large group of people around, there were even more horses than usual running about. Arya was scared that she could get trampled by one of them due to her tiny size.

"We need to get on one of them!" Jon said. He held Arya close to him so that they wouldn't get tramped by the many horses headed their way. "When I count to three, we get on a horse." He extended his hand. "One...two..." A horse knocked over Jon through its muzzle. He quickly got back up on his feet again."One...two...THREE!" He and Arya were on a white stallion who was, as all of the horses, out of control. Jon tried to steer him the best he cool. "Arya, whatever this horse does, you need to hold on!"

Arya was silent as Jon kept trying to tame the horse, but to no avail. The horse ran faster than any she had ever been on and when Arya took a quick glance at the horizon, there was nothing but smoke clouding over Winterfell. The skies were red as that woman's eyes, eyes that she promised herself she would never forget.

The woods were dark and terrifying and the horse kept acting wild. "Will you ever calm down?"

As if on cue, the horse came to a halt and began shaking rapidly as though trying to wiggle its two occupants out. It bucked forward, then backwards. At this, Arya lost her grip on Jon's back. He quickly managed to use his lighting-fast reflexes to hold her hand as she dangled on the horse, who now decided to make its run again at an even faster pace, which seemed to go beyond the impossible.

"JON!"

"Don't let go of my hand!" She felt it slipping as it got sweatier and sweatier. There was a large hill below her and if she let go, she would certainly get lost in these woods for who knows how long. All of a sudden, her body collided with a nearby tree and the impact caused her to let go of her brother and tumble through the endless hills, ending all the way at the bottom when she slammed headfirst into a rock.

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