By the time Lynn left the Main Keep's hall, darkness had fallen completely.
The cold wind swept fine snowflakes against his face.
A small figure leaned against a pillar in the porch, cradling a slender rapier.
She wore gray leathers, her hair tied carelessly behind her head, with a few unruly strands tossed about by the wind.
It was Arya.
She stood there quietly, blending into Winterfell's stern gray stone.
When she saw Lynn emerge, her gray eyes, always gleaming with a wild light, instantly brightened.
She did not squeal and throw herself at him. She simply hurried up to him, tilted her head back, and looked at him without a word.
It was as though she wanted to take in every change in him since he had left.
"I'm back."
Lynn reached out, instinctively moving to ruffle her hair.
But Arya jerked her head aside, dodging his hand.
Then she raised her fist and thumped his chest, neither gently nor hard.
"Bastard."
The next moment, she could no longer hold back. She buried herself in Lynn's arms, wrapping her arms so tightly around his waist that she seemed determined to press herself into his body.
"If you ever stay away that long again, I'll... I'll go to King's Landing and drag you back tied up."
She buried her face against Lynn's chest, her voice muffled and thick with tears.
Lynn smiled.
He could feel the small body trembling in his arms, and he could feel her wild, untamed heart pounding fiercely for him.
Lynn reached out and gently patted her back, as though soothing a wolf pup that had finally found its way home.
At the end of a nearby corridor, Ned Stark silently watched the scene.
He had just left his wife Catelyn's room and was heading to