Arya Stark X Jon Snow

This will take place at the beginning of season 8/ end of 7 cause fuck they ruined that reintroduction. This will be based on the show but might take lines from the book... Maybe...

But I have made a few changes. First Arya isn't at winterfell yet. Just imagine we got a season of her on the road with some more faceless shenaigans thrown in. Little finger is still alive without his odd Sansa, Arya feud. And Jon returns with Danny before Arya arrives in Winterfell.

Oh and Ghost is around cause fuck who ever thought removing the good boy was a good idea.

"

A pack for us
Arya I

Snow. Arya had been riding for days. Past Moat Cailin. It seemed impossibly larger then when she rode south so many years ago. God's... She thought suddenly realising her age.

Would they even recognize me?

Arya had grown since she'd last been home. She was taller. taller than Robb was before... Her boyish features had finally gave way to her womanhood. No longer able to pass as a boy. Her hair was longer and cropped tightly to her scalp keeping it out of her eyes as she rode on.

Her leather armour braced her against the rushing winds as she pushed her mare faster. It galloped at full pace down the kings road. Breath freezing with every heavy pant. The wind bit at her bare skin. Her face as cold as Heart Tree pond. She was warmed by the memory of her, Jon and Robb pouring a bucket of it on Sansa's head. Her face was priceless and worth every second of the punishment, cleaning out Sansa's dress. But as soon as the warmth came it was gone. Robb's dead. She told herself. Shaken from her day dream. The thundering hooves of her mare continued as snow fell dusting the kings road in a pale carpet. The leaveless trees unnerved her. In the south the trees were full of multi coloured leaves and song birds. But now... They were barely clinging to life a few black and red leaves clung desperately in the shaking branches each daring the others to be the first to fall. The song birds had long fallen silent replaced by the mocking crys of ravens.

Winter has come. Arya thought to herself willing her mare harder. The mare was exhausted. It's breathing more ragided and wild. Each step less stable than the last.

Just a little longer she willed it. We just have to reach the inn. We can't stay out here.

She was right of course. If the cold didn't kill them bandit or worse would...

Wolves. Wolves were rare in the south hunted to near extinction decades ago but this cold had driven them south in search of food. And they were stories filled the firesides of wolves taking babes from prams and sheep from pens. Likes just old wives tales... But you can never be to sure...

Arya felt needle tap her foot as if to say._ I'm still here. _But the voice it spoke in was queer. The voice was male and young. She couldn't quite place a finger on it. But she once knew that voice as well as her own...

Gods... Perhaps Bravos really did break her...

In the distance she spied chimney smoke and knew she was making progress.

A warm bed and bowl of stew awaited her. For what Inn would deny a lady in need?

As much as she once tried to deny it. She was someone. She was Arya Stark and she was coming home...