A Furious Thing

The Riverlands

It was frighteningly easy to slip away from Jon in the confusion of the morning preparations. She knew that no one was expecting her to escape- why would she, she got to go home- but nonetheless, he didn't even glance her way when she told him she needed to make water. He wasn't a very able guard.

Arya knew only one thing for certain as she slung her bag over her shoulder, under the shadow of a large oak, she wasn't going back to Winterfell to be sold to the highest bigger like cattle. She refused to be married to a "suitable" man. Arya didn't care if that was what women did. Sansa could have Gendry. She'd take her freedom. If she was caught, she couldn't imagine how angry her father would be. But she knew that a week of marriage had to be worse than anything this journey would do to her.

Needle hung from the belt at her hips, and she'd thrown her dresses on a few tree branches, in the opposite direction she'd be heading, of course. She'd done it to make from in her back for her supplies and the coin purse, enough to buy passage on a ship. Bandits and highwaymen were more common on the southern roads, but she wouldn't be on the roads. Walking would mean her journey would be longer, but she knew it'd be harder to catch her in the forests. Besides, she'd have Nymeria with her.

She started off quickly, unwilling to sacrifice a head start for any reason, even the fear unfurling in her belly. Arya planned to make her way directly to Maidenpool, look for a ship to take her to Evenfall Hall, and offer her services to Lady Brienne of Tarth.It would mkae Jon laugh, this half-formed plan of hers, but it was al;l she had. She knew that she could be sent directly back to her father as soon as she reached Evenfall Hall. She'd never even met Lady Brienne- never even seen her- but tales of the fierce female warrior who'd inherited her family's seat unmarried had reached all the way north, and Arya had been fascinated.She was hoping, perhaps, that Brienne could take her on, train her.

The first day of her journey passed without incident, as did the second, but on the third she had a close call. The pounding of hooves were the first sign, and, of course, she ignored it.Arya was gnawing at a piece of dried meat while she walked, pace slowed, Nymeria trotting happily beside her, and she assured herself it must be a hunting party, unconcerned with a bastard girl from the far north. Happy with that deduction, she didn't speed up or hide. As they came closer, though, muffled cries of "Arya!" went through the air.

With a gasp, she darted towards the nearest tree. She was not as adept as Bran at climbing, but of their siblings, she was second best, so the low, squat tree she jumped towards, scrambling for purchase posed little challenge. With a desperate gesture, she tried to shoo her direwolf off, away from the horses. Arya heard the voices and the hooves coming closer and closer.

"Go, Nymeria!" she whispered.

She pulled herself and her sack up and weaved herself up onto a clutch of higher branches fully covered in leaves, a perfect hiding place, but Nymeria hadn't moved.

Horsemen burst through the trees with Jon at the lead just as Nymeria sprinted off in the opposite direction. She let out a quiet sigh of relief. He scanned the area around her, never glancing up at her in the tree. He looked distraught.

"I don't see her," he called back to his men. Arya noticed Jory and Harwin and Fat Tom among them- all Stark guards.

She imagined none of the Lannisters were very upset about her running off, and they'd hardly leave the Queen unguarded in search of her. If her father was anyone other than Ned Stark, she that even his men wouldn't be looking for Arya Snow.

"Maybe she really did go west, milord," one of the guards, the gruff Helsel, proposed.

"Arya's not stupid. That was a false trail. I'm sure she came this way," Jon told him adamantly.