#title is taken from son luxs You Dont Know Me

[from-ib-to-asshai]

WIP WEDNESDAY- I see you down on your knees

Arya should like to imagine that Frey blood is different then other blood. Maybe that the smell is more putrid, or that the liquid more viscous. Perhaps even a different color; more brown. Dirty blood would be fitting for such a dirty, rotten family.

But this isn’t the case. Despite all odds, the blood of the Frey men is almost lovely; she doesn’t clean the blood out from under her fingernails for weeks in a futile hope to keep it there forever. It’s color seemed so bright in the candlelight of the Twins’ kitchen, runny and red like the wine she’d serve to the other family members later on. It was almost indescribable how it felt to watch it.

It was meant for her, she realized. Arya was meant to bleed men like them just like the sun was meant to rise in the east. It was destiny.

At night sometimes, Arya would shake with anticipation at the thought of Cersei Lannister’s blood. Would it be just as wonderful? Even more so? The expression on Cersei’s face would be of no matter to her because all that matters was her blood, because blood was her life force and Arya would weep with joy to have the chance to rip her life out of her, Needle forgotten at her side as she would instead dig it all out with her bare hands, the squelching sounds of flesh and muscle and blood combined with the cracking of bones would-

Oh. She’s getting ahead of herself again, isn’t she. 

Sansa stares at her from across the table, obviously still waiting for an answer.

“I’ve been around,” she said, “Surviving. Training. Hiding.” She shrugged. “Nothing worth mentioning.” If Arya hadn’t been trained so well, she would've missed the almost imperceptible narrowing of her sisters eyes.

“I see.”

A pause.

“What about you?”

There was another pause, and Arya saw something in Sansa’s demeanor change - not for the better. On guard. Jaqen would have hit her for her mistake; Now Sansa either thought she was mocking her, since wherever she had been was obviously public knowledge, or her sister now knows that she’d spent the last years out of Westeros.

Jaqen would have hit her for it, the Waif would have beat her for it, Sansa now distrusts her for it. Arya just cursed herself for it instead.

“Lord Baelish got me out of King’s Landing,” the redhead began smoothly, ringing her hands together on her lap, “I was hidden in the Vale for a while(...)”

The silence between them was neither pleasant nor unpleasant, but simply a reminder that they were essentially strangers, weren’t they, after so many years apart. Sansa was beautiful, sitting on the simple wooden chair as if it were a throne, back straight, hands folded and head held evenly as not to disturb the non-existent crown that rested upon it. Her red hair neatly braided and her face illuminated by the low fire, her displeased expression was identical to the one she’d given Arya almost every day growing up. This realization stopped her in her tracks. 

She tilted her head. No, it couldn´t be. Couldn´t it? They wouldn't have sent someone to Winterfell this fast, they couldn't have. Oh, but they could have. They could have gotten to Winterfell in the time she was in The Twins, they could have taken it over, they could have taken her sister's face. 

They had reasons too.

The House had reasons to be angry with Arya Stark, and they had the resources to tear her down, to kill her. All the shattered promises, all the ignored oaths, all the broken rules. But why? Revenge? That wasn’t their style, really; hadn’t that been the whole point? The lesson that Jaqen H’Ghar had tried to teach her, that The Waif had tried to beat into her?

We never give the gift to please ourselves. Nor do we choose the ones we kill. We are but servants of the God of Many Faces…

A lesson. That would be a motive. That would be a reason to kill and impersonate Sansa Stark. Maybe they needed more servants for the god then she’d thought. Maybe they wanted her back. Maybe-

The door creaks open. 

She flinches, instinctively tracing the outline of the hidden knife beneath the sleeve of her tunic with her hand. The door opens too slow for it to be an attacker, the footsteps too loud for an assassin, she knows -- but flinches anyway.

Petyr Baelish looks different then from when she last saw him. Perhaps older, perhaps more weary.The last time she had seen him had been years ago after all,  No, thats not it; he looks smaller, almost like a small child dwarfed by the thick winter furs he has to wear to stay warm.

Littlefinger isn’t made for winter, she realizes. A small grin briefly twists itself over her face. His beady little eyes fixed onto her and he smiled tightly, bowing deeply in their direction. 

“My Lady Arya. It truly is wonderful to see you,” he said, taking a seat by Sansa, “When was the last time I saw you -- four, five years ago?” He says it like he doesn’t exactly know how long, which of course is a lie, seeing what kind of person Petyr Baelish is. “You were naught but a child then. I am delighted to see you have grown into a beautiful young lady, and are safely back in Winterfell.”

Are you? She thinks to herself. Outloud she says, “Yes.” 

The simple reply throws Baelish off, and he awkwardly readjusts himself in his seat. 

“You simply must tell me about what you’ve been doing all these years. No one has heard from you in years.” He trying to play with her, she knows, but she is not interested in playing his game. He is far more interested in him playing hers. The smile she wears in small and light, weightless and nonchalant. She needs to make Baelish believe she thinks she’s smarter than she is. Not to trick him later; no, like she says, she has little interest in the game of thrones. No, she needs both him and Sansa to believe she had no capabilities to kill him, that she was too dumb to try. 

She shrugs. “Same could be said for you My Lord. I hear one moment you’re working for the Lannisters, next you’re marrying into House Arryn, only to move on to the Boltons. All quite conflicting reports, really.” Her voice is soft and dispassionate. “I was hoping, that as I tell you of my travels, I’d be able to hear about yours more. Oh, you know how the smallfolk speak -- all rumors and claims -- one can never really know the truth.”

“No,” Littlefinger replied, “One truly can’t. I-”

“So I must wonder, Lord Baelish, where your loyalties really lay.”

“My loyalties are solely with your sister and House Stark, my Lady,” he said smoothly, “Any mishaps or conflicts in my actions were purely to survive and to get your family back home.” Sansa stiffened slightly beside him but said nothing.

“As Lady Sansa can surely attest to, the Vale’s armies played an important part in defeating the Boltons and securing Winterfell. The Vale has sacrificed many a moon and many a man to get us where we are today. So if my word itself isn’t enough to make you not distrust me My Lady, then at least trust my actions.” He bowed his head to her with a smile, his hand on his chest.

It took her a moment to riffle through his words to actually gain some meaning from them; Littlefinger spoke fast and spoke many words whilst saying little. But aside from the acknowledgement that his loyalties to Sansa meant more to him then any other, and the mention of how indebted the North was to the Arryns, there wasn’t much behind his words.

She’d expected more from Lord Baelish after all she’d heard. Or maybe it was on purpose - perhaps he didn’t think she-

“Of course, you should know best that I can be trusted -- After all, I never revealed your secret to anyone, all those years ago.”

Ah. There it is.

Sansa’s sharp, icy gaze pierced through her. She didn’t even have to look over to see the question burning in those pale eyes. Baelish grinned wider.

“Harrenhal was such a terrible place, wasn’t it. I can’t imagine what it must have been there -- especially under Tywin Lannister.” Arya felt herself grinding her teeth together. “I just hope you managed to get out of there before before the Mountain took over,” he continued, “But it surely would have been hard to escape unnoticed -- especially being Tywin’s personal cupbearer.”

And there it was. The kick she’d been expecting. 

Thick tension filled the room as silence took over. Baelish’s smile waned slightly, unnerved by the quiet. He’d surely been expecting some sort of revoke from her, a hurried defense, a glim of anger; even just a startled look. 

But Arya Stark did not bend to the whims of men.

Sansa's dry voice broke the moment.

“Lord Baelish, you must excuse us. It seems my sister and I have much to discuss.”

The man stood and bowed, obviously pleased with his work, and left, footsteps loud and they echoey as he descended down the hall.

“You haven’t even been here half a day and he’s already trying to cause distrust between us.” Arya looked over, surprised. Now this she hadn’t been expecting. Sansa leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples and sighing. She caught her younger sisters inquisitive gaze and smiled faintly.

“He loves doing things like this,” the redhead murmured, tracing her finger along the wood of the table, “Trying to tear families apart, causing chaos wherever he steps foot,” she huffs. “I do understand why, I am easier to manipulate when alone. That doesn’t mean he’s any less despicable.”

Arya blinked. Sansa leaned over to her, laying her hand close to hers, close enough to feel the warmth without direct touch. She appreciated that, in a strange way.

“Why don’t you just...send him away?” Sansa smiles again, and Arya thinks it’s somewhere between patronizing and affectionate. Her younger self would have gotten at the gesture, but the last time anyone had looked at her with any kind of real affection had been years ago, so she didn’t even mind getting talked down too -- For all she’d been taught in Bravos, the House had not cared to teach her about Westerosi politics. 

“Because we need the Vale’s army. We can’t afford to lose their alliance because, while Lord Royce cares little for him, if our dearest cousin hears that his lord regent and surrogate father is killed on flimsy claims of conspiracy and treason ...” Sansa paused, looking out the window. The bright grey light reflected on her blue eyes. Arya realizes, then, that she hadn’t suggested to murder him, only to remove him from Winterfell. 

No, she realizes then. This was not a faceless man trying to trick by using the face of her sister.  The amount of fury in her face, etched into the curve of her gentle smile, sparkling in her kind eyes, evident in every small nod and calm word - this is not the way of a faceless man. The subtlety of the anger, no - they would try to  be much more obvious.They would not try to conceal their resentment as effectively as Sansa did.

Arya felt a twinge of pride at that, unable to imagine how the elder Stark had become this good of a liar -- what had caused it.

Satisfied with her discoveries, she excused herself, venturing out into the old, dusty, grey halls that she had once called her home. The dark stains, the crumbling corners, the burn marks on the tapestries and the nervous maids that have quick, hurried direwolves stitched into their overcoats to distract from the pinks and reds of their skirts that they are too poor to replace.

[dorky-wolves]

Chapter 1: Before the Ceremony

Wind blew across the meadow as the pack of wolves gathered around the collections of caves halfway up the mountain. home. the place they have lives for centuries, barely known to mankind. the alphas and betas, who are the winged leaders of the pack. the gammas, deltas, luxs, and omegas, who are the warriors, gatherers, and everything else the pack needs to run. and Unfortunately, there are the runts and outcasts. not much use to the pack, but at least the runts try to do something to help, while the outcasts, well, they're out of the pack for their own reasons.

the alpha leaders of the pack, Eclipse and Snowfall were in the cave with their grown pups.

“one of you are being chosen to lead the pack. i believe you know who it is.” Their father,Eclipse, stated calmly while pacing in front of the twin pups, Dream and Nightmare.

Dream dropped his head in a bow, and Nightmare raised his head, a sign of acceptance to his fathers request to take leadership.

Eclipse continued, “nightmare, you will be expected to take up control of the pack. your mother and I are becoming too old and frail for the role as leader, and you know everything that must be done. i expect greatness from you”

“yes father. i hope to do you proud.” nightmare finally bowed his head in respect to his father.

“there is one thing i have not told you, son.” eclipse circled around to be between nightmare and Dream who has been silient this entire time. “dream, you are dismissed. i will see you in position when everyone is gathered.”

“Ok!” dream chirps happily before prancing out to find his friends.

“what do you need to tell me father...?” nightmares face contained worry, yet curiosity. what could his father possibly have to tell him that wasnt to be told to the favorite child?

“you are expected to pick a mate. tonight.” eclipse lips went into a small snarl as he walked around nightmare. “ you have taken long enough, and you are already a grown wolf. you should have at least had one in mind, knowing this day would come.”

“father, what if i dont want a mate...?”

that was a mistake.

Eclipse lunged at Nightmare, knocking him down while the older wolve’s lips curling into a wide snarl.

“you will pick a mate, Nightmare. you are taking too long. even your younger brother has someone he likes! you need to stop being such a loner or the pack wont accept you!”

Nightmare stood back up and held his ground, but inside he was in turmoil. he didn't want a mate. nobody in his pack interested him. and the only way to drop out of having a mate was to lose all titles and drop to lowest rank. but Nightmare couldnt talk back to his father. “y-yes father....”

“good. now, since you are incapable of actually having someone in mind, i suggest you take up the old way. walk through the crowd, smell out your mate.”

“wh-what...?” Nightmare looked confused for a minute.

“you will be attracted to a mates scent. if they are right for you, you should be able to close your eyes and sniff them out without even knowing who they are.”

“b-but how does that work???” nightmare backpedaled from his father, doing his best to hold his ground and failing

“you will know what i mean, or else dream will take leadership of the pack.” Eclipse smiled at nightmare.

Nightmare hated it when he would do this. there was no way or Nightmare to argue back.

to make matters worse, Eclipse didn't even want Nightmare to take up leadership of the pack. He wanted Dream to do it. The only reason Nightmare was given a chance was because snowfall convinced Eclipse that it was the better choice.

“just get out there. we dont want to keep the pack waiting,” Eclipse scolded nightmare.

Nightmare made his way out of the cave, through the vines that have grown there for the leaders privacy. the sunlight flickered at his eyes as he stepped out into the packs view on the large protruding rock. The Alphas rock. the pack was gathered around it, alphas and betas in front while the rest of the pack filtered in behind.

in the front row, nightmare could see dream with his two friends, Ink and Blue. the trio was always cheerful and friendly. something a pack looks for. something nightmare didn't have. nightmare was the quiet type of wolf. sitting alone while the other pups played in meadows and pretended to hunt each other. real hunting was the only thing nightmare was good at. he would be left alone and doing his thing. nobody bothered him then.

a nudge from eclipse brought nightmare back to reality as he knew he was expected to pick his mate. 

“you know what to do.”eclipse stated.

nightmare gulped as he made his way to the side of the protruding rock. his father announced that nightmare would pick his mate the old fashion way, and he would pick the perfect mate to help him run the pack.

nightmare had reached the edge of the crowd of wolves and looked out. it seemed like a never ending sea from down here. 

with a long sniff of the air, he closed his eyes and stepped forward.

to be continued.....