Chapter Text
Blood was rushing through her ears. The only thing keeping her upright was Jory’s hold on the back of her shirt collar, dragging her as they ran. She was wearing one of Jon’s old rugby shirts, the hem ragged and torn from years of use. Arya didn’t have to look down to see how the thick white and red horizontal stripes of the shirt were now covered in grass stains, dirt smears, and angry red blotches. The pain in her hip was starting to simmer and dissolve, but she didn’t have the energy to feel alarmed about it.
Her vision was blurry. Her eyes felt numb behind her eyelids.
Jory’s frantic breathing lead Arya to keep running, keep moving, through the forest.
“Keep your eyes open!” he all but shouted in her ear.
Her head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, and the tugging Jory was doing on her neck wasn’t helping. The wound on her hip was still seeping blood because she could feel the wetness running down her bare legs. But she couldn’t feel the bullet anymore. She couldn’t feel the pain anymore. She couldn’t feel a thing. Arya truly tried to keep her eyes open for him, knowing that slipping into unconsciousness wasn’t a good thing for her to do. Her legs were buzzing, like they weren’t hers anymore.
She tripped on a few roots while they panted and sprinted out of the woods, a mess of limbs and blood and branches swinging every which way. The afternoon sun was almost gone, the forest transitioning into that time of day between light and dark. The perspiration was heavy down her neck, her back, all over her body. She felt lifeless and filthy, her own blood dried up into the cracks of her knuckles and under her fingernails.
How Jory got her to the back porch of the Stark Manor was nothing short of a miracle, because Arya’s body decided to stumble and fall slack into Jory and she passed out just in time for her father to come barging out through the doors of their back yard.
***
She woke up feeling like the gunshot in her hip was nothing but a bad dream. She stilled for moment, and then blinked a few times before she remembered that this wasn’t a bad dream, it was her reality. Her head felt better, heavy still, but healing. Her body felt sore, like she ran through woods for three days straight. The bed was warm. There was gauze and medical tape wrapped around her hip. They had taken the bullet out. She glided her hand across the area and winced.
She was in the guest room on the first floor, down the hallway from the kitchen. She couldn’t remember how she got inside the house, or how they got her on the bed. The only thing she could bring back to memory was her father’s look of sheer panic as he ran out of the house.
Arya must have slept for a few hours, because night had come quick. Her eyes searched for a clock in the darkness. It was 8pm.
Slowly, she rose from the bed, grabbed a pair of sweatpants out of a laundry basket and slid them on with extreme caution. When they cleaned her up, they took the rugby shirt off of her and put her in something that Arya guessed to be white. She was wearing a soft zip-up hoodie with nothing underneath. She gripped the fabric. It smelled like Sansa.
After a few heaving breaths, she took baby steps out of the room. Feeling sensitive still, she didn’t turn on any lights in the room or in the hallway. Ironically, once she was walking through the corridor to find her family, she discovered that all the house lights were also turned off, except for the big shimmering chandelier that was hanging above the kitchen area. The dim lighting of the room flickered mesmerizingly off all the crystal rectangles that dangled from the chandelier’s enormous structure.
“We don’t have a choice anymore,” Ned Stark said to no one in particular. His voice came from a low, dark rumbling in his chest. It was silent for a few seconds before Robb rubbed his eyes.
“That’s not-“
The floor creaked when she got close enough. Robb lost all thought when his worried eyes landed on his sister. Everyone at the table turned slowly to look at Arya, who was leaning half her body against the doorframe a few meters from the table. Their faces instantly relaxed, but the tension did not disappear from their faces. She inhaled and let out a big sigh, taking in the sight of everyone in front of her.
Robb was sitting across from her father, both of them looking completely on edge. Robb looked like he’d cooled down a bit. They had probably been arguing for a while now; Arya could sense it. Her brother was wearing the look he always wore when he felt defeated and had given up trying to get through to Ned Stark.
Next to Robb was Bran, who was breathing slowly and trying to stay calm. He looked like he’d been thinking too hard. Probably wondering how to make sense of their situation. Her mother had been staring into her lap with a mug of what smelt like chamomile. Jon was on the other opposite end of the large table, standing up with both fists propped up against the mahogany, his eyebrows knit together in anger and frustration. When Arya met his eyes, he looked absolutely pained and relieved at the same time. Two of her father’s guards were standing by the window, behind Jon, keeping a lookout.
Sansa was sitting next to her father, and had been staring blankly into space. She looked like she had been trying not to cry, her eyes strained. Her hands were clasped together around Rickon who sat in her lap. There was another guard standing behind Sansa, and two of her family’s house maids were standing idle against the wall as well.
Even Gendry was here.
“Arya.”
She looked right into the eyes of her father, and she knew. She knew everything had gone to shit.
Both of her parents had made the motion to rise but it was Catelyn Stark who got up hastily and rushed to her. Arya’s head was cradled into her mother’s chest, but she couldn’t decipher if it was for what had already happened, or for what was yet to come.
She felt her father’s arms around her, guiding her to the table.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better,” Arya responded. But somehow she didn’t feel like it made much difference.
Robb gave up his seat to Arya, grabbing her hand to help her. She winced in pain as she sat. Apparently, it was easier to stand up than it was to sit down when you’d been shot in the hip.
The silence in the room hung thick, and she wanted to know what was going on, what everyone was talking about, but her head was still throbbing. There was no point in asking questions about something that was going to be explained to her soon enough. Her chest felt full and heavy, like her body knew that nothing about this was being taken lightly.
She knew there were repercussions for what had happened a few hours ago, but she honestly didn’t know what to expect. Well, now she knew, because she was in a room full of her entire family and those that had been servicing her family for the past ten years. Half of which Arya never saw in the same room together at any given time. At least not in the past two years. Jon and Robb didn’t live here anymore and were barely around in July, Sansa was at university taking her summer classes, and her father was no longer in the manor during the day.
It took her a second to figure out exactly who was missing, which lead her to speak. “It was a hunter, wasn’t it?” her tone implying that she wasn’t actually asking. Her voice cut the silence at the table open like a knife. No one moved.
And it was then that Jory came barging into the room, a large duffle bag in one hand and his cell phone in the other. Everyone was forced to avert their attention to him as he hauled the duffle bag onto the dining table.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he started, planting his hands down firmly on the table. “I’m going to explain exactly what it is we’re doing and how we’re going to go about doing it. Then we’re all going to agree with minimal interruptions. And then, I will write down and make a copy of the itinerary we’re going to need, and you will not lose it.”
Arya stiffened. “What is this?” She felt her chest constrict as she locked eyes with Sansa across the table. Her sister seemed to have a clearer idea of what was going on than she did, because her face had changed completely. Sansa knit her eyebrows together, and pursed her lips. But she didn’t say anything, probably assuming it wasn’t her place to explain what was happening. While Jory unzipped the duffle bag and began unloading equipment with his usual stoicism, Arya looked around at all her siblings. Not one of them seemed surprised. Her father opened his mouth to say something, but it was Jon who spoke.
“Yes.”
Arya turned her head to look at him. He stared strongly back at her. “It was a hunter.”
Soft clanking was coming from the objects Jory was unloading out onto the table. A dozen different cell phones, cards, passports, currencies of money…
Arya shook her head to herself, not understanding. She may have broken the rules once and a while regarding when to go into the forest, and maybe the boundary lines had been blurred once too often, but she was careful. She was always careful. “But… I didn’t-“
Robb put a hand on her shoulder, sensing her distress. “There was absolutely no trail that could have lead just one hunter to you, Arya. This was the doing of a team.”
She sat there trying to process the information. There were gadgets and booklets and strange looking equipment all over her dining table, and her entire family was in a panic.
What had she done?
“You were running in the forest and you must have sensed them. They shot you with a long distance rifle, using a hunter’s bullet, but my guess is that you were too fast for them, because it went into your hip instead,” Jory informed her, his eyes never looking up. It was always a thing Jory did, multitask with minimal verbal communication. He took his cell phone out and made a quick phone call.
Arya had a nostalgic feeling that what he told her was right, but she before she could ask him anything, her father grabbed her hand. “They tried to track you and hunt you down,” he said, looking straight into Arya’s eyes. “Whether they knew who you were or not, they were definitely hunting for something part human. Robb and I have discussed all the possibilities and I’ve tried connecting the dots… but we can’t know anything for certain just yet. But for now, to be safe, we’re going to split up for several days and meet back at our designated safe house.”
Arya remembered her father mentioning the safe house once or twice in passing, years ago. It was around the same time he explained just exactly what kind of traits the Starks managed to pass down from generation to generation, for the past hundred years.
“What do you mean by split up?” She could sense Robb stiffen behind her. He didn’t like this plan.
“Your father and I discussed this, and it seems that it’s in our best interest to separate those of you with the ability to shift into small traveling groups. We can’t be certain what these hunters’ motives are just yet, and if they continue trying to track you, they’ll be lead directly to the house by early morning,” Arya’s mother replied. “There is an underlying danger that comes with shifting into the wild forest, and now that our circumstances have changed, your father and I cannot risk anything happening to any of you if we stay.” She paused, and sighed deeply. “We are leaving the country. Once Jory gives us what we need, and explains to you all what is going on, we’ll finalize and confirm who goes where.”
There were so many questions Arya still had swimming in her head, but she didn’t know where to start. She felt confused but hollow at the same time, like everything was happening too fast in front of her. It almost didn’t feel real. And the guilt that was lingering inside her chest was making it difficult for her to decipher exactly how she felt about this whole situation.
“Track me,” she repeated to herself. They had tried to shoot her dead, and missed. It was coming back to Arya in small fragments. She began to backpedal, and zoned out Jory’s voice that told everyone Yoren and Uncle Benjen were on their way.
Back in those woods… she had shifted back into her human form when she was running, and then the pain had gotten worse and worse. There was so much blood... She looked down at her hands briefly, remembering the way the blood made her hands sticky.
She couldn’t remember much else. The house was empty when she left for the forest, save for Bran who was upstairs reading and Rickon who was with the maid. It was after lunch, and she had such a desire to go for a run, that she didn’t think anyone would notice if she went out on her own. She hadn’t even told Jory. When her parents weren’t in the manor, he was the one left in charge. And as usual, Arya had gone off to do what she wanted without consulting him first.
Jory must have heard the shot… must have gone searching. She remembered tripping on a tree root when she was on foot, covered in blood and looking for her clothing. In that small amount of time after getting shot, she must have bolted for a few miles before she transitioned back into her human form, then had quickly found her garments, and then ran another mile and a half towards the property before Jory found her and ran straight for her.
“Jory said you had left a bit of a blood trail. Fortunately, thank the old gods, it rained while you slept,” Her father informed her, his voice started to crack from soreness. “It’ll buy us some time to get ourselves ready.”
Jory started rearranging everything on the table in an organized manner. “We won’t have long,” he quipped, tossing the empty duffle bag to the side on the floor somewhere. “If they try tracking you now, they won’t get far. Your scent’s been skewed with the downpour. But it’ll be dried up by early morning, and they won’t hesitate to approach the woodland again soon.”
Arya nodded slowly in understanding.
Ned Stark stared at his daughter’s blank face. “We have to assume the worst. The safety of this family is top priority. I know it’s quite a lot for you to wake up to, but we don’t have any other options. They know your scent, Arya. The danger that implies is too grave. We have a few hours to get ready and leave until… Jory will explain everything, and it’ll be easy. It’ll all be over soon.” He squeezed her hand and she automatically squeezed it back.
Jory tossed everybody a new and improved passport with new identities. “Every Stark in this room gets one of these. And these documents are to be seen by no one, do you hear me? If you’re stuck and have absolutely no other choice, then save them just for those extreme emergencies. But they are only a precaution.”
“But aren’t our names changed?” Bran asked, opening his passport.
“It doesn’t matter,” Sansa said to him, slowly catching on. “We can’t be hiding if the wrong people see what we look like. If someone here sees us and knows who we are, and finds these passports, they’ll know it’s all a scam.”
“Which is exactly why you need to keep them in a safe place. They can only help you once you are out of the country. Memorize your names and think of some other place to call home, because once you leave this house you are going to become another person. ”
Jon narrowed his eyes and tried to read his alias. He absorbed the information quickly and with little effort. Things like this were probably common for him. Maybe he wouldn’t have a hard time adjusting. He could treat it like just another job. Arya was slightly envious of him as she took in her brother’s strength.
Jon knew when he was fourteen that he wanted to be like Uncle Benjen, and work in Special Forces. They came from a family of very involved soldiers; Ned had been a military sergeant years ago, and just recently Robb became one himself, following in his father’s footsteps.
It was only just that Jon wanted to prove his worth at a young age. Every summer he practiced and practiced until he perfected a new skill. He asked his Uncle Benjen what they were looking for, what kind of bar he had to reach in order to be a blimp on their radar. And he must have given him sound advice, because Jon had been recruited at eighteen. There was a division created just for people his age. Special Forces put him through their training program for an additional three years. That’s where he met Gendry. And that’s when he stopped coming home in the summers – they were when he worked, his did jobs, saved people. He’d pop in about once a month when he had the time, and he’d made the habit of bringing Gendry with him to the manor. They were partners in the same unit, and Gendry didn’t have any other family.
Jon never talked about what exactly he did in Special Forces, never mentioned a steak out or any of his operations to the family, but when he was alone with Arya, he would let himself discuss it with her and listen to her questions. And answer them truthfully. Arya loved that.
“Yoren is coming with the itineraries. He’s got it down to the grid. Make sure you follow them once you leave here. These phones,” Jory held up a few of them, “have disposable cards. Once you finish talking on the phone, you crush it. You get one card a week. Yoren’s going to give you one envelope to start, with one card inside and directions to find the next envelope. You can only call the next person on your list at a specific time once you reach a specific place.”
“And how will they follow his directions? Where do they lead?” Catelyn Stark did not try to hide her confusion.
Arya, knowing exactly how Yoren and Jory worked, could have answered her mother’s question herself.
Jory exhaled. “There are care takers across Europe, and in some places of the world, that you will remember to have sworn fealty to you. Once we leave here, your children will open the envelopes, and go to those specific locations. Once they wait for the specific time, they call whoever is on the list. It could be you, or another Stark. Those are the only times they may come in contact with you. Once their calls end they have to make sure their call is untraceable, so they’ll need to take the card out of the phone and crush it. Then read the rest of the directions in the envelope.” He met the eyes of all the Stark children and added, “You’ll be meeting with those who hold a sincere loyalty for the Starks. They’ll be the ones keeping guard of the next envelope.”
Arya’s father had a sudden flash of recognition showing on his face. He knew exactly which loyalists Jory was talking about. The pieces were starting to click, even for Arya herself.
“You’ll receive three envelopes that will lead to your final caretaker. Once you reach that destination, you must stay there for further instruction. From that point it’ll be gray area. So let’s focus on getting there first, shall we?”
“So we stay idle until its okay to meet up again, at the safe house,” Robb nodded. Out of understanding? Out of agreement? Because everything was happening too fast and Arya’s head started to hurt again. Didn’t her father say this would take a few days? Now it was weeks?
“Yes.” Jory passed out a few more sheets of information before he got to the money displayed before him. “Now, as your mother told you all, you’ll be separated in groups for this. It’s best to put one wolf in each group and stay as far away from each other as possible. Spread yourselves thin. Less wolf scenting, less trails for the hunters to follow. “
Who exactly would go to this much trouble to find her? Or any of them? Her father told her that they may not know she was a Stark wolf, but those hunters were predators. They were predators looking for someone who shifted, someone who had the bite, or the gift. They were aware of what they were doing. Would they really try to find the other Stark wolves if they had gotten to her?
Arya closed her eyes and propped her head up on her hands. She covered her eyelids with her palms and swallowed hard. She felt Robb’s hand on her back.
“I think we should wait for Benjen and Yoren, first,” she heard her mother say.
There were a few shared whispers between the two. Then her father’s voice said strongly, “We’ll fly straight there. Valkov will be our host. He has a safe place for the two of us in Moscow.”
“Ned, Rickon is still so young, he can’t transition by himself.”
“You must let him go, Cat. Listen to me when I say that he will be safer with my brother than with us.”
Arya blinked, lifting her head up to see six year old Rickon Stark still sleeping against Sansa. He was still so young when he started to sign. When Arya found him shivering, naked outside from shifting back, that’s when she ran back in the house to tell her father that Rickon was given the gift. He carried the Stark gene (that now made him a potential threat, thanks to Arya).
Yoren and Uncle Benjen arrived moments later, and both immediately got down to business. Uncle Benjen hugged and greeted them all, even Gendry, before grabbing a chair and sitting next to Ned. They shared a quick glance with each other before sixty year old Yoren got impatient.
“Now that we’re all here, let’s get to these things.” Yoren waved the envelopes with absolutely no enthusiasm. He handed them out as Jory took the list from Catelyn Stark’s hands and read off the names.
“First things first, Ned and Catelyn, you’ll be going to Moscow. Without Rickon. Ned said Valkov agreed to keep you in hiding, so he’ll be expecting you at the airport when you land. Rickon will be left with Jon and Benjen.”
An unfathomable look was bestowed upon Catelyn’s features, but she said nothing.
Jory turned to Jon and grabbed the stack of Yen off the table to give to him. “The three of you will be going to Kyoto.” Yoren tossed Jon his envelope from across the table. Neither of them would have a problem adapting. Jon and Uncle Benjen both knew how to speak Japanese.
“Robb, Bran, and Sansa, you’re with me. We’ll be going to Mendoza, Argentina. I know the guy who’ll be hosting us, and he has a wolf of his own living with him already. Shouldn’t be a problem.” Jory grabbed the stack of pesos and gave half of it to Robb to hold onto.
That took care of Robb and Rickon…
Arya’s eyes found Gendry’s at the end of the table, where he stood next to Jon with his arms crossed.
“Arya, you’ll be going with Gendry to Lisbon. Out of everyone in this room he’s been around you the least, and he doesn’t carry your scent. He’s the best choice to disguise your trail.”
Gendry’s jaw locked as Yoren came from behind him and smacked the envelope against his arm. He grabbed it without breaking eye contact. His face looked like Jon’s; accepting and unwavering.
It just came to her attention that Gendry probably already knew that this was going to happen, that he would be traveling with Arya. It made perfect sense now.
Arya and Gendry gave each other slight nods before Jory gave her the stack of Euros.
Gendry went through the same training Jon went through; he was a valid choice. He was skilled in numerous kinds of hand-to-hand combat, whereas Arya’s occasional kick-boxing didn’t even compare. Not only could he hide her scent from trackers, but his body build itself could protect Arya from just about anything. Who was going to notice her when her head barely grazed his chin? Arya was sure he could speak Portugese, as well. She knew very little. She tried it back in her first year but there was no one at home to speak with, and Jon was never around, so it was one of those things that just went away.
Now her family had to do that with themselves.
Arya’s eyes fell on the dark wood of the dining table in front of her, and she didn’t have the willpower to keep listening. Her ears and her mind were alert, but her body wasn’t. Yoren started to yammer on about the specific things they needed to take with them and the provided time it would take to get to each pit stop.
Her siblings were going to play scavenger hunt all across these different countries. Her mother and father were flying directly to Russia. They were leaving the house. They were going to be in hiding.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gendry grab a pistol out of Uncle Benjen’s hand.
Rickon was lolling his head forward, slowly waking up.
Her father was talking to Robb about his shifting.
“We’re all flying to our countries,” Jory announced. “Our plane tickets are in the envelopes.”
They were leaving.
“Except you.” He turned to Arya and pointed directly at her. “You don’t have an ocean separating you from your host, and getting on a plane would be too risky, so-”
“I’ll have to take us there,” Gendry finished for him.
Jory nodded. “You’ll take the train and get off in Paris, and then make your rounds down to Lisbon.”
Arya inhaled a big breath, and exhaled quietly. She could do this. It wasn’t complicated. It was just a set of directions to follow. There was nothing uncomfortable about Gendry although traveling with him was a different story. But they’d get over it. She wasn’t some little girl who needed to be watched 24/7 and she most definitely held her own when she was in her wolf form. If anything, she could be protecting Gendry. There was nothing about this to complain about, not that there was any room for it.
The next half hour was a blur. Sansa helped her up the stairs to their room, while everyone else rushed off to their own bedrooms to pack. They needed to leave as quickly as possible, Yoren had shouted. There was no more time for questions or doubts. Everyone just had to keep moving. It was all too much to grasp but no one had the luxury to think about it for too long.
Arya changed out of her clothes and eased into a pair of jeans, slid into a baggy black tank, put a dark red zip up hoodie on top, and grabbed her beanie off of her nightstand. She put it on and tucked all her hair into it. When she finished packing her stuff, she zipped up her bag and she turned to Sansa. Her sister’s face was poised, but nothing could stop the worry that revealed itself in her eyes.
They hugged tightly for a minute before they left the room. Everything felt like it was on mute with every step she took down the stairs. Her arm was slung around Sansa’s shoulders, but even with her help she felt like it wasn’t enough to lift her feet off the ground. Her leg felt heavy, and her hip started to buzz. She felt weird. Tired all of a sudden, and a little nauseous. But she didn’t let it show.
Her family stood there ready when she made it to the living room. Hugs, kisses, and small words of encouragement were shared. Arya and Robb could sense how everyone was feeling. They all could. Being born with the wolf trait meant having a heightened sense of awareness, amongst other primal instincts. She could smell the uncertainty and the hope, just like Robb could.
Her mother hugged her strongly.
“We will do what we must.”
Rickon was awake now, holding onto Uncle Benjen’s hand. He must have felt it too. Senses can appear strong when you’re still getting used to them. Arya hugged him goodbye, hoping that he’d learn to adjust and let go of his wolf senses a bit. They could make young ones like him restless at times like this.
Arya got around to everyone in the room, including her father, who kissed her forehead and held her for a good minute, but said nothing. There was nothing simple left to say.
And then Arya got to Jon, and he wrapped his arms around her small frame and lifted her gently off the ground. She clung to him, and shut her eyes. She wished he could leave with them.
“Do you have the army knife I gave you?” He whispered into her ear.
“Of course.”
“Good. Be careful.”
Each member of the Stark family slowly dissipated out the door. It was dark out, and the streetlights flickered on. Arya felt like she had to say something to Jory, and made to turn around. He ended up being right there behind her. He grabbed onto her arm.
“Don’t get lost, kid. Keep your eyes open. Gendry Waters maybe the best thing we got, but he’s still only human. Just a man. Remember that. For the both of you.”
Arya barely had time to comment. She was ushered out of there and into the car, Jory’s eyes never leaving hers.