I didn't see exactly what happened. One moment I was watching Robb's footwork, and the next I heard screaming.
Arya lay on the ground, impossibly still. An arrow protruded from her chest. Her eyes were open, but unfocused, just staring at the empty sky.
I heard people talking, saying someone was practicing and she ran past at the wrong moment.
In a few moments, Maester Luwin was already kneeling beside her, checking her pulse at her neck. Father also arrived.
Robb stood there without knowing what to do. Sansa and Bran were being held back by Septa Mordane.
I saw Catelyn arrive. She ran to Arya's side. Her hands hovered over the arrow, afraid to touch it, and she let out a sound I never thought bitches like her could.
But when she saw me she shouted. "Stay back, bastard!"
"She's dying, Lady Catelyn! I can help her, I know I can!"
"You've done enough! You're a stain on this family, and now you want to befoul her last moments with your dark arts!"
She knew. Somehow, she knew about what I could do. Maybe she'd heard whispers from the servants about the stable boy. Maybe she'd always suspected there was something unnatural about me.
But then Maester Luwin's voice cut through her rage. "My Lady, she's stopped breathing. She's gone."
"Arya! Noooo." Catelyn dropped to the ground beside Arya, utterly broken.
Gone?
I'd brought life back from death before. Not a complex human life, but plants.
The same life force that animated those plants was flowing out of Arya's body right now.
I could stop it.
I moved again.
Catelyn saw my movement. "No," she said weakly. "No, you won't touch her."
"What is left for him to do, my Lady?" Maester Luwin asked.
"She is already gone. What harm can he do to a soul that's already left this world?"
I knelt beside Arya in the dirt and blood, and gently placed my hands on her. One hand rested on the arrow shaft, and the other beside the wound.
First, I needed to see what I was working with.
I could sense every cell, every organic molecule of her flesh. The arrow had punched through her chest wall, torn through the lung tissue, and cut a major artery.
But the body was still intact. The cells were dying, yes, but they weren't gone yet.
I started with the arrow. I sent my power into the tissues gripping it, commanding the muscle fibers to relax, the clotted blood to soften. Slowly, carefully, I eased the arrow free. It came out smoothly, and I let it fall to the ground.
Now I could see the full extent of the wound. A hole in her chest, about an inch wide. The lung was collapsed, the artery torn, and blood was gathering inside the chest cavity.
I began to work.
I started with the artery. At the cellular level, I could see where the vessel wall had been ripped apart.
Cells responded sluggishly at first, then faster as I pushed more. New cells formed, knitting together across the tear. I guided the smooth muscle cells next, then the connective tissue. Within moments, the artery was sealed.
Next, the lung. The tissue began to knit together, cell by cell and layer by layer.
Within minutes, the physical damage was repaired. The wound was sealed. But Arya's heart was still silent.
This was the hard part.
Life force. The spark that animated living things.
I took a deep breath and began to pour my own life into her.
It flowed out of me like water, through my hands and into her chest. In just a few moments her heart started beating again.
Now her body was sustaining itself. The heart was beating on its own, the lungs were breathing, and the brain was active.
I pulled my hands away and collapsed onto the ground beside her. I was gasping, shivering, completely drained.
Every part of me felt empty, but I knew when my life force recovers it will grow.
I'd done it.
Maester Luwin knelt beside Arya. He placed his hand on her chest, feeling for a heartbeat.
Arya let out a soft groan.
Her eyes fluttered open. Slowly, as if waking from sleep. She looked around at the faces staring down at her.
"Jon," she whispered.
I didn't have the strength to answer. I just nodded, and let the darkness pull me under.
When I woke, I was in the Maester's tower. My body ached. Grey afternoon light filtered through the window.
Arya was in a bed across the room, sleeping peacefully. Her breathing was deep and even. Where the wound had been, there was just a thin pink line.
Father stood by the window, staring out. Lady Catelyn sat on a stool.
Maester Luwin pressed a cup of tea into my hands. "Drink,"
he said quietly.
I drank.
"Tell me," Father said. "Explain this. All of it."
Maester Luwin looked at Father, then at me. "The girl was dead, my Lord. Her heart had stopped. The damage was mortal. Yet now she sleeps soundly. The wound is healed."
He looked at me. "The boy brought her back. He reversed death itself."
Catelyn let out a gasp. "It's sorcery. Black magic."
"No, my Lady," Maester Luwin said firmly. "I do not believe it is dark sorcery."
....