Chapter Text
Winterfell, 305 A.C.
He never asked for a second life or a crown. The only thing he had ever asked for, no matter the god that might be hearing, was Arya’s safe return to home. Her safe return to his arms.
For a while – a brief, turbulent and sweet time span – Jon thought his prays had been answered. Arya did come back home, with winter in her eyes and a talent for war that had been unknown to him. For a while he was as happy as winter and war allowed. He dared to make plans for a future even if future was a luxury only few of them would have.
He simply didn’t expect for her to do such a stupid thing. It should have been him to get between Arya and the Night King’s blade. He had been the one to challenge death and fuck up the balance as Bran would say in the aftermath of the events. Arya didn’t need to die in order to protect him. She was still so young...She had a life ahead of her with prospects of happiness even if not by his side.
She was gone though and it didn’t feel right. I didn’t feel real even if he looked at her pale face as he placed her in the pyre, dressed as a warrior princess as she would have liked.
Bran wanted to bury her in the crypts by Ned and Robb’s side. Jon would honor her last request though. He would give her to the flames so she would never come back as a White. He wondered for a second if he would ever be able to deal with Arya coming back with blue eyes, pale face and black hands. He would probably accept death from her hands and smile in the process.
It didn’t feel right...Not after everything they had lived together and all the promises made. She belonged with him. They were meant to grow old together and have a dozen of children to fill the castle with noise.
Jon looked at her one more time before turning to the heart tree in outrage and sheer anger.
“I fought your war!” He shouted with rage and tears in his eyes.
He was tired of doing what people want him to do. He was tired of being a puppet in the hands of the gods being them old, new or the red one. He was exhausted of being the hero, the moral and honorable man while he kept loosing everything he held dear. They owned him that one little girl. His heart, his home, his one true love.
“I fought your war and this is how you repay me! I didn’t make questions or doubted my purpose! I burned thousands of Other and I killed the Night King and the Dragons! If someone had to die it should have been me!”
In his fury and grief Jon pulled his dagger and cut his palm. The blood dripped from the fresh wound falling over Arya’s dead body.
“If it was blood what you wanted...Have mine.” Jon said with his heart broken. “A King’s blood. Blood of the First Men...The Red Good can bring the dead back to life...I’m not asking much. Just this girl. Give me Arya back.”
If Bran saw him through the eyes of the old gods he would probably be furious. He had warned Jon time and time again about the dangers of dealing with that sort of magic. He would say that nothing good could come out of such a bargain but Jon didn’t care. He wanted her back, no matter the price.
Nothing happened though. Maybe he had to sacrifice and whole village to have his wish granted. Maybe he simply had no magic left in him to bring Arya back to life.
Magic was vanishing from the world...Bran had told him so.
The dragons were dead, along with the White Walkers. Melissandre had thrown herself in the flames as a living sacrifice. Daenerys Targaryen succumbed along with her children. There was only Ghost, Nymeria, Summer and only two wargs to keep the beasts under control.
He had thought about sacrificing Arya’s direwolf, but in the end he couldn’t bring himself to kill the last remaining part of Arya’s soul. He kept the beast and she started to follow him everywhere along with Ghost.
The godswood remained quiet and the night was getting dark and darker without anything happening to the dead girl’s body.
Nymeria came out of the woods closely followed by Ghost. She sniffed her mistress body one last time and Jon couldn’t help petting her with his good hand in silent support before lighting up the pyre.
A sad howl came out of Nymeria’s throat as Jon shed his last tears over the loss of his heart.
♠♣♥♦
Winterfell, 830 A.C.
She looked at mirror one last time to check her hair and makeup. There was a flurry in her stomach and she could barely contain her anxiety. It was her first big role in her first big production. She hadn’t been cast to be Queen Arya – and not even her name had been suggestive enough to convince the producers and director that she was the obvious choice - but Jeyne Poole was a role just as important.
Arya knew she hadn’t been picked for the main role because the production had considered her to be too plain to portray someone as important as Lady Arya Stark, but what those people knew about anything? She had talent. She could convince anyone that she was a fearsome warrior queen if she damn wanted to. She had learned how to use a sword and at that point she could even do the choreography backwards, but it hadn’t been enough. Maybe she hadn’t brought her A game to the audition, but she had been sick then. Even so they still thought her to be good enough to be Jeyne Poole and she would prove them that she was better than that pretty little thing they had cast in her place. She would get the audience crying with her performance.
Her costume was stunning for sure. The white lamb wool gown with gray fur on sleeves and collar and a matching cloak with the gray wolf of House Stark was sure to grant the designers several nominations. The rest of the production seemed to be a bit messy though. She didn’t have a proper place to rehearse her scenes or memorize the script. Arya often walked through the park or the godswood for some quietness so she could do the fine points of her job.
They had used the godswood for external shootings that day and since it was already too late for them to get proper light, she thought it to be a good idea to go back there to remember her lines before they called her to shoot the wedding feast scene.
She grabbed her bag and script and walked the path to the godswood. As she walked and got completely distracted in her reading all the trailers, equipment and crew got too distant to be seen or even heard.
This lines about Theon Greyjoy...I don’t know. It feels a bit too forceful to make him Jeyne’s love interests. This script is a bit shitty. She thought as her eyes scanned the lines while she walked toward the woods.
The woods were gorgeous and peaceful. Arya had never been in the North before, but she thought the place to be pretty agreeable with her. Even the cold weather felt welcome to her skin. It was easier to get into the character’s psyche when she was surrounded by real historical settings. It felt real and she could almost see all those important people walking around and doing great things she had learned from history books.
As she got deeper in the woods the wind got chillier. It had been a sudden change in the weather for sure, or just someone preparing the snowy set for them to shoot yet another scene out side the castle. She looked around to try to find out why it had gotten so cold in nearly no time at all. She expected to see and hear a number of people shouting orders and instructions, while the floor was covered with fake snow.
There was only silence though. Blessed and pure like the snowflakes that started to fall gently from the sky to cover the floor around her.
Arya realized it was all to calm, to peaceful even at such a distance. She looked back and saw nothing but trees with their canopies covered in snow. Not even the castle’s silhouette could be seen. A wave of panic took her all of a sudden. Was she lost? How long it would be until someone found her there? At least her costume was made of warm and resistant material so she would be warm for a while.
The woods were denser than she remembered, as if a hundred trees had grown withing the night. It was also whiter with all the snow covering the floor all around her. Her own costume would make it difficult for anyone to find her. I never thought summer snow would fall so fast and in such quantity...The weather had been steady so far. What happened?
Her only hope was to find the heart tree. It would be easier for the crew to find her there. They would certainly look for her to shoot the next scene.
Arya kept walking until she saw the red leaves from a distance. There it is! She thought with sudden enthusiasm. At least she was no longer lost.
She looked ahead and saw a silhouette from a distance. That was an instant relief to her worries and for sure it was either someone from the production or one of the staff members of the castle. Arya approached the person so she could have a better look, but before she could get close two giant beasts got on her way.
Her scream disturbed the quietness of the godswood immediately as she looked at the two giant wolves approaching her with caution. She searched her bag looking for some sort of weapon, anything that might keep the wolves away. The only thing she found was the pepper spray she kept there for security reasons.
“Help! HELP!” She screamed hopping someone would listen and come to her aid.
The wolves seemed to be more curious than inclined to attack her but that made them no less frightening. A gray one seemed particularly curious and agitated while the albino one sniffed the air around her as if trying to catch a familiar smell.
“HELP!” She screamed again as she wondered if those animals were trained. She considered they might be one of those animals that would be used in the movie, but they looked humongous for trained dogs.
“Ghost! Nymeria! To me!” A male voice called from the godswood. Arya ignored the irony of those names while trying to recover her breath.
The animals gave a step back and eventually answered to their master’s command. The man she had seen from a distance approached her.
He was dressed in the most extraordinary costume she had ever seen. There were so many details, textures and layers of leather, linen, velvet and fur. His hair was long and tame in a bun to keep it out of his face. He wore a beard that seemed a bit messy and there were thin scars over his eyes. He wasn’t ugly or anything of the sorts, but he was far from being the material for a main actor. Just like me...The bitter thought was inevitable. He looked at her as if he had seen a ghost.
“Oh! Thank goodness!” She said in relief. “They scared the hell out of me.”
The man didn’t say a thing. He remained silent as his eyes roamed all over her figure as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes.
“Arya...” His voice was low, smooth and haunted. “Is it you?”
“Yeah! I suppose.” She answered out of sarcasm. What sort of question was that? She didn’t know that man and she wasn’t that famous for him to look at her as if he was a goddess. “Are you part of cast? I must say your costume is really a thing! This production is making a real effort to win the technical categories. I’ve never seen anything like this before. Even your sword looks real.”
He looked at her and then at his own clothes as if he hadn’t understand a world she said. That guy seemed honestly confused.
“I’m sorry. How rude of me...What’s your name?” She asked in an effort of being polite and kind to the guy who had saved her from those monsters.
“Don’t you recognize me?” He asked in such a desolating tone that for a second Arya thought she actually knew that guy but had forgotten his face entirely. He looked familiar, but she simply couldn’t remember either his name or the circumstances they have been introduced to each other. “It’s me...Jon.”
“Jon…? Sorry, I really can’t remember you.” She answered mortified. “Were you at the first reading? No...It can’t be. Was it from a party?”
“Jon...Snow, or Stark, Targaryen...I just don’t know. It’s confusing.” He answered agitated and obviously distressed. Oh...He is good!
“Are you Addam’s stunt double?” She asked. “You don’t look like him and...I think he is taller than you.”
“Double?” He seemed even more confused. “No...I’m...It’s me. Jon Snow. Your...Cousin.”
“NO WAY!” Those were some serious news! There would be reporters and fans all over the place. “Addam was replaced?! I thought his name on the posters was mandatory at this point. The studio must be a mess.”
“I have no idea of what you mean. Who is Addam?” He asked the most ridiculous question ever. Addam Dayne was simply The Star. That could only mean one thing…
“I get it...You are good! Really good actually! I’ve never seen anyone using the method personally. It must be tiresome and consuming, but you nailed it! I’m not that Arya though. I mean...My real name is Arya, but I’m playing Jeyne Poole. You see...” She pointed to her costume. “Wedding dress and all...I’m getting married to Ramsay Bolton.”
“What?!” His face turned as pale as a piece of paper. He actually looked livid at the mention of Ramsay Bolton’s name. All right...They were enemies, if I remember the script right. Jon Snow killed the guy. “Only over my dead body! I’ve killed that bastard long ago, but you can rest assured that I’ll kill him as many times it takes! You are not marrying Ramsay Bolton or anyone else!”
“Fine...I guess I can play along.” She smiled at him. “Do you want me to play Jeyne or Lady Arya? Oh… I’ll be Lady Arya. The role should have been mine anyway.”
“Arya...I guess I should take you home.” He said as a matter of fact although he sounded very much concerned. “You don’t sound like yourself. This is probably my fault.”
“I’m feeling quite myself. Thank you for your concern.” Arya answered.
“I’m sure your memory will come back in time and you’ll start to make some sense.” He approached her cautiously. “You don’t need to worry. Ramsay is dead. You are not marrying anyone and I’ll fight Bran in this if I must. The only thing that matters is that you came back.” His gloved hands reached her shoulders with reverence and he gave her a relived smile as his eyes looked at her with adoration. This guys is really good! Addam sounds like shit near him even if he is not that good looking. “Everything will be fine, little sister.”
That was an odd line, but Arya decided to play along. She smiled at him and tried to picture what Lady Arya would have done. She was really fond of him, wasn’t she? They married for love afterall.
“I’m so glad to see you again. I’ve missed you so much.” She answered his lines in a way that made sense to her. They were lovers reunited after some great deal of personal tragedies, weren’t they?
His face seemed to light up and his smile grew wide. His gloved hand cupped her cheek as he looked into her eyes with adoration. Arya could almost believe that he was actually in love with her. Damn! She wished someone had ever looked at her like that while she was still with her clothes on!
His hand reached her nape and brought her face closer. Arya realized suddenly that he actually intended to kiss her. Not a scenic kind of kiss meant to be all about visual and aesthetics. No...It was the real deal. With a lot of tongue and teeth involved in the process.
She tried to pull him off before his lips could touch hers, but it was useless. He was stronger than he seemed under all those layers of heavy fabrics and leather. His hands pressed her body firmly against his and Arya realized that she wasn’t dealing with a rehearse. That was sexual assault pure and simple!
She had been holding the pepper spray since the wolves attacked her. If there was an excuse for a woman to use something like that, sexual assault was surely a good one.
Arya prayed the damn thing on his face and the effect was almost immediately. He let go of her and while rubbing his eyes and cursing like a sailor.
“Stay away from me, pervert!” She shouted at him. “I’m not stupid to fall for this bullshit! Keep your hands out of me!”
She turned away and ran as fast as her costume allowed leaving that guy behind in pain.
“ARYA! STOP!” He shouted in a voice of command from a distance. If that guy was indeed an actor, he was a terrific one since he could stay in character even when he was in pain.
He growled something she couldn’t hear. Arya didn’t bother to look back and try to figure out what was going on, but soon the wolves were in front of her again, blocking her way. She screamed out of fear and shock. As she tired to escape the wolves blockade she tumbled on a piece of root and everything turned black.