Winterfell no longer felt like
The realization that the home of her childhood no longer felt the same crept up on Arya suddenly,
within a moon’s turn of her arrival in the North after spending more than a year in King’s Landing to secure the peace for Jon and his new queen.
Before that, she’d been fighting the War for the Dawn alongside her brothers, her sister… and the rest of her pack.
They had fought for the lives every man, woman, and child in Westeros. Much had been lost, but in the end, they prevailed.
Before the Wars, she’d spent many years Faceless in Braavos.
Years that felt patched together in her memory, years where she’d somehow crossed the invisible veil between childhood and womanhood without even realizing it.
Other than brief moments between battles, Arya hadn’t lived in Winterfell since she was eleven years old. Now, at seventeen, she barely knew it.
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