Her Blacksmith, His Princess

Arya

Dragons, Dragons, Dragons.
The three headed dragon lies behind, not before. 
Within the hall of doors.
Destroy the false, and the true will find you. Do not get lost, child. You know what you must do.

Arya woke from her dream with a start. She had not dreamt in years, she had trained herself not to. Dangerous things lied in dreams, and this one was proof.

What did Arya have to do with the Three Headed Dragon. It wasn't even real, it was merely a prophecy created to keep the weak with hope. That's all any prophecy was.

It lies behind? What did that mean? Arya's mind wandered back to the room of skulls. She had meant to speak with Gendry about them, but she had been ... interrupted. What had she meant to say?

Then it hit her. She tore herself out of bed and threw on a robe hanging on the bed frame and ran as fast as she could. When she reached the end of the hall, she had to stop, for she had no idea where she was going. She silently scolded herself and decided on left. After walking the hall for a time, she saw a guard in Stark colors and a young boy walking toward her.

She did not recognize either the man or boy, but they clearly knew her. When they got closer, both stopped, stepped to the edge of the hall, and bowed. The knight was handsome, she saw, but not like Gendry. The boy couldn't have been older than twelve.

"Excuse me, where can I find Ser Waters?" She asked, trying to remember her courtesies.

"The stables, Your Grace. Would you like me to send a messenger ahead? He is off to check the wall patrols." The knight answered.

"Yes. That would be great," she said, unsure. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, Your Grace." He said. The knight sent the boy off and he ran towards the stables obediently.

"What is your name, Ser?"

"Ser Willard Mormont, Your Grace." He said with a bow and a handsome smile. Arya froze at the name. Mormont.

"Mormont? Are you in relation with Jorah Mormont?" Arya asked, completely disregarding her courtesies.

Ser Willard flushed heavily at this and seemed to stumble over his tongue. Arya was confused why, until she remembered what Jorah was here. To her, he was a treasured teacher and friend, here he was a criminal and disgrace.

"Pardon," she told the embarrassed knight, "I know what you all think of Jorah, I did not mean to embarrass. I knew him. He was my friend. It is no disgrace to be in relation with such a man as he," she told him. "Not with me at least."

Willard smiled slightly, still in his bow. Arya turned and continued on to the stables.