FicWad

Chapter 35: Starks in White Harbor
JON

After arriving a King’s Landing, and reporting to the Red Keep, I was led into a sitting room where the king was drinking from a goblet of wine. He rose from his chair as I entered and I knelt before him.

“You asked to see me, your grace?” I reported.

“Ah! Get up!” commanded the King. “You don’t need to kneel before me! How’s that army of Wildings of yours working out?”

“Their training has come along well,” I replied. “I even brought them with me when I came here.”

“That’s smart of you!” praised the King. “It’s good to have your own forces. When Cersi was Queen there were far too many red cloaks around here. Made me feel like I was drowning in blondes.”

“Surly this is not why you have me come all the way down from Riverrun, your grace,” I observed.

“You Northerners! Always getting right to the point!” laughed the King. “Now here’s the deal, Renly’s not working out as Hand. He’s too much like me. Always quick to spend on fripperies. Did you know he agreed for the crown to pay to fix all the sewers in Kings Landing? And he put the Imp in Charge of the whole thing! I hate counting coppers, but there has to be someone willing to say ‘no’ to me. And ordinarily I might ask Stanis to do that, but the Wildlings have driven him round the bend. Now all he ever talks about are the damn Wight Walkers! ‘The Others and Coming! We need to prepare to fight the Others. The Wight Walkers are coming to Kill us all!’ he says! Well, piss on that. The Wall has kept them back for thousands of years. I need help to run this kingdom and none of my brothers are up to the job.
Jon Stark, I would name you the Hand of the King!”

“I accept,” I replied. “Just give me some time to get my men settled in and get organised . . . It would be nice to see Shireen again too. She’s still here, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is,” replied the King. “I’m sure she would be happy to see you again!”




TRYSTANE

Afterwards, Arya told me she didn’t see what the big deal about sex was. But she kept wanting to do it again with me, so she must have been getting something out of it. After I’d pushed her into the deep end of the wereworld, she could follow me into there and then, journey on her own. It wasn’t as easy for her as me, but I had years of practice on her. She also learned how to use the wereworld to change her appearance in the normal world. It would take her an hour of concentration to achieve what I could do in an instant. She even talked me into riding her ship back to Westeros, though I insisted on going to White Harbor so I could walk the rest of the way on dry land, not sail all the way to Sunspear. I continued to help her explore the wereworld, even while we were aboard her ship. She agreed with me that the wereworld was less interesting at sea, though it didn’t disturb her as much as it did me. As she put it: ‘the wereworld sea would be a lot more interesting if I could fly or breath underwater.’

We were in her cabin, cuddling in post coital bliss when the subject of why I had gone to Bravos in the first place came up.

“You know, my father might not consider the trip a total loss if I came home with a wife, even if it’s not the one he wanted for me,” I mused.

“No. That’s not me,” snapped Arya. “I’m not going to be some proper Lady and sit home for you, while I do nothing but pop out babies! I’m a warrior, a ships captain, the Sea Wolf!”

“And you could still be all that,” I assured her. “Women’s roles in Dorne are different than the rest of Westeros. We have warrior women like you. My uncle has a whole squad of daughters like you. And the baby making part of your life doesn’t have to take up your whole life. My own mother married my father, had a few children, including me, then went off to have her own life, leaving us with my father in Dorne. You could do something like that. And it doesn’t have to be now. It could wait a few years until you’re older.”

“That’s an interesting offer,” said Arya. “But no thanks. Now, let’s go again?”


MARGAERY

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” I asked, as our flight path started to take us over the city. “What if someone tries to shoot us down?”

“All will be as it should,” replied Jojen, from his broom, flying beside me.


TRYSTANE

When we arrived at White Harbor, a squad of armed and armored men was waiting to greet me.

“Euron Greyjoy, you are under arrest on a charge of piracy!” said the soldier who seemed to be in charge.

“Hey! I’m just a passenger!” I explained, putting up my hands. “I’m Trystane Martell, not Euron Greyjoy. Do I even look Ironborn to you?”

“Then where’s the captain?” demanded the soldier.

“I’m the captain,” announced Arya. “I’m Arya Stark, and this is my ship now. Euron Greyjoy is dead.

“You can’t be her,” explained the soldier. “Arya Stark is dead.”

“I heard Euron Greyjoy took her and sailed West off the edge of the world with her,” offered another soldier.

“That’s what I mean, dead,” agreed the leader. “No one who sails west EVER returns. Therefore, if Arya Stark was on a ship that sailed West of Westeros, it must have either turned back before it was too late or she’d be dead.”

“Look you idiot!” screamed Arya. “Do you see what it says on the side of this ship: ‘The Silence’. It was Euron Greyjoy’s ship, but I took it from him after we sailed West AROUND the world to here. And I am most definitely Arya Stark, so I can’t possibly be dead unless-”

She’d broken off her rant because she was too busy staring, like everyone one else at the sight of a group of people flying through the air on three brooms. They came to a landing at our feet.

“Bran? . . . Is that you?” asked Arya.

“Arya!” Bran greeted his sister with a hug. “I can’t believe you’re back!”

“Yeah, well I just stopped long enough to drop him off,” she said, indicating me. “This is my paramour: Trystane Martell.”

“Oh, we’re doing paramours?” asked Bran. “Then this is my wife, Lady Margaery Tully and this is my paramour, Meera Rede.”

“Bran!” squawked both women, as they each hit one of his shoulders.

This is my squire, Jojen Rede and my magical teacher teacher, Lord Edric Peverell.

“So he wasn’t lying to me?” asked Arya. “You really are some kind of wizard?”

“Luminos!” said Bran, as the tip of his wand lit up.

“Does this mean you really do have plant powers?” Arya asked Margaery.

“Yes I do,” said Margaery,” as she let her self turn her natural colour.

“Trystane told me you turned green not yellow,” complained Arya.

“Yellow?” asked Margaery, before taking off a mitten and taking a look at her light yellow hand. “So I am. Must be Autumn is coming.”

“The saying is: Winter is Coming, not Autumn,” corrected Arya. “Why are you Lady Tully, anyway. If you married Bran, shouldn’t you be Lady Stark?”

“Grandfather made me Lord of Riverrun,” explained Bran. “I’m Lord Tully now.”

Bran then turned to Lord Edric.

“We should really get the rest of the family,” Bran told him. “Can you go get them?”

“Unless they’re here in White Harbor, I really don’t have time for that,” explained Arya. “I’m only here for a couple of days.”

“It will only take a few minutes,” explained Bran, as Edric disappeared with a:

POP!

“Arya,” began Margaery, before Arya interupted her.

“Captain Arya!”

“Very well, Captain Arya,” added Margaery. “Before they get back, there is something you should know about your mother. She had a difficult birth and almost died. The only way I could save her was to transfer her mind into a plant duplicate of my body. So when you see her, She’ll look just like me.”


EDRIC

POP!

I appeared in the Winterfell Gods’ Wood. As soon as I left it, the first people I ran into were Willis and his two sons, taking care of the horses.

“Willis, have you seen Lord Stark?” I asked.

“I believe he should be in his solar this time of day,” answered Willis. “There haven’t been any Wildings sited in the area recently.”

“Thanks Willis!” I called out as I ran to Lord Stark’s solar. I didn’t bother to knock. I just barged right in. “Lord Stark, it’s your daughter!”

“Sansa!?! What’s wrong? Is she hurt?” demanded Lord Stark.

“No. The other daughter, Arya,” I corrected. “She’s at White Harbor right now! I’ve been sent to bring the family!”


MARGAERY

We were still chatting on the docks when the appearance of a whirlwind announced that a portkey had brought the Stark family. They were all here, Lord Ned Stark, his ‘servant’ Cat, who was a brighter golden yellow than me, little Edmina, Robb, Dacy Sansa and Rickon.

“Arya!” cried Sansa as she leapt forward to be the first to hug her.

“Who are you and what have you done with my bratty sister!” demanded Arya, with a laugh, as she hugged Sansa back.

“I missed you too!” replied Sansa.

Robb hugged her next.

“You know, of course, my new wife Dacy,” said Robb.

“It’s good to see you again, Arya,” said Dacy.

“I’m glad we’re family now,” agreed Arya. “Rickon? Do you remember me?”

“No,” said Rickon “You look at lot like father. I feel like I should remember you but I can’t.”

“I’m your sister, Arya. Captain Arya Stark of the pirate ship Silence!”

“Wow!” said Rickon. “You really have a whole ship all to yourself?”
“No, not to myself,” corrected Arya. “I have a whole crew to help me run it.”

She then turned to Cat.

“Margaery explained just who and what you are . . .” said Arya. “Mother.”

The two them hugged before Cat introduced the child.

“This is my daughter, your half-sister Edmina Snow,” explained Cat.

At this, Arya just burst out laughing, hysterically.

She’d finally started to get herself under control when Lord Stark, announced:

“Your brother, Jon couldn’t make it here,” said Ned. “But I received a raven from him this morning. Robert has named him Hand of the King!”

This set of another round of uncontrollable laughter from Arya, as she pointed at Cat.

“Stop! Stop! You’re killing me!” protested Arya as she rolled on the deck laughing.

“Mama!” said Edmina, as she reached for me.

I turned my skin a more normal colour and picked her up, explaining: “I’m not your mother. I’m your Aunt Margaery.”

“It may interest you to know I have apologized to Jon about the way I treated him when he was a boy,” snarled Cat. “He even calls me: Mother, now”

This only set her to laughing harder!

When she finally got herself under control and was back on her feet, Ned held out his arms to her.

“Do you have any hugs left for your father?”

She ran into his arms and they hugged for a long time before he said:

“I’ll glad you’re back!” said Ned. “It’s good to have you home. Now don’t you worry. I will find you a match to a good Northern man who is kind and brave and strong and will treat you right. And then-”

“No!” shouted Arya, as she pushed him away. “That’s not I want! That’s not me! Is that what you think!?! You think I came back here so you can sell me off like some broodmare!?!”

“Arya, It’s not like that,” protested Ned.

“Arya, women have to get married and have babies,” scolded Cat. “It’s just the way the world works!”

“I changed my mind,” announced Arya to Trystane. “Yes, I’ll marry you, tonight!”

“Arya, you can’t just pick your own husband!” protested Ned.

“Why not?” demanded Arya. “He’s the son of a Lord Paramount. What better match could you get me? Either I marry him tonight, or I get back on my ship, leave Westeros and you never see me again!”

“But I didn’t get to make you a dress or anything!” protested Sansa.

“I can wear this,” replied Arya, indicating her Ironborn style sailor’s outfit.

“Very well, if this the only way we can keep you in our family, I will allow it,” said Ned.


Before the wedding happened, I caught Arya alone.

“I know you didn’t want to wait long enough for your sister to make you a dress,” I began. “But I can grow you one instantly, out of vines, if you like.”

“I’d be willing to try it on,” agreed Arya. “But if I don’t like it, I’m still wearing this.”

“Then take off all your clothes and stand by this patch of dirt,” I said, As I planted the seed I had taken from my bag. “Now stand in the pose you want him to see you in. That’s the position you’ll look best in. It will conform to your shape.”

Arya did as I told her and I poured the instant plant growth fluid on the ground. The vines grew up and started wrapping around her until they had woven themselves into a very modest, but skin-tight dress covered in leaves and white flowers to preserve her modesty. when it stopped growing, a cut off the stalk where it came out of the ground.

“Margaery! It’s beautiful!” praised Arya. “You really do have plant powers!”

“It will become dryer and more brittle as time passes,” I explained. “If you are careful, in may last a day. When you’re ready to take it off, just break it off of you.”



EDRIC

“Oh! I almost forgot!!” cried Sansa, before she twisted away.

POP!

A few seconds later, she was back with a:

POP!

“Edric honey, I don’t know how to make portkeys yet,” confessed Sansa. “Can you help me bring Nymeria here?”

“Sure,” I agreed, before side-along apparating her with me to Winterfell.

We went to the kennel to retrieve her sister’s dire wolf and brought it to the Gods’ Wood, before she gave me a look.

“You know, this is a perfect opportunity for us to be alone without having our hands behind our back!” said Sansa, as she put her arms around my neck.


After we returned to White Harbor, Sansa and I brought the three-legged dire wolf to her sister.

“Nymeria!” exclaimed Arya, as she reached up to hug her dire wolf.

“Since you wouldn’t wait long enough for me to make you a dress-” began Sansa, before noticing what Arya was wearing. “Where did you get that dress!?! That’s amazing!”

“Margaery grew it on me,” replied Arya.

“Anyway, since you wouldn’t let me make your dress, I brought you a present,” repeated Sansa.

“You’ve got something on your cheek there,” pointed out Arya, causing the pair of us to blush.


The wedding was in the White Harbour Gods’ Wood, with an after party in Lord Manderly’s Great Hall. Arya’s crew and the Manderly men did not get along well and both Lord Stark and Lord Manderly had to put their foot down and break up several fights. The music was Lord Maderly’s own musicians, playing what to my ears, was old time Rock and Roll. Finally, someone called out for a bedding.
On hearing that, Trystane took Arya by the hand and they walked to the center of the dance floor before they walked away from each other leaving a large space between them.

“The bedding is a Southern custom, not a Northern one,” announced Arya.

“I’m Southern,” joked Trystane.

“Yes you are,” agreed Arya. “And I’m certain you won’t mind if these ladies rip your clothes off.”

“Not at all,” replied Trystane. “Come and get me ladies!”

“But the Northern custom is for the husband to threaten beat the ass of anyone who dares touch his wife,” joked Arya, and everyone laughed. “And since my husband is Southern, I guess I’ll have to beat your asses myself. You want to have a bedding? Then, come pay the Iron Price for it!”

One of her sailors stepped forward.

“Oh that is so dirty,” growled Arya. “See, he knows I can’t break his arm or he won’t be about to sail my ship for me. .. . But I don’t need his nose to sail my ship!”

When Arya threw the first punch the women and men surged forward. I was not surprised to see Margaery or even Sansa taking part in ripping the clothes off the groom. Cat’s participation was a surprise, though. Arya’s fight against the men ended when her dress broke and fell off of her. By then, there were seven men either unconscious or incapacitated at her feet. After that, she was able to walk, unmolested to go join her husband in the marriage bed.