Chapter One
Arya stood on the wharf, rocking back and forth on her boot heels. A slight breeze lifted her short hair, cooling sweat on her neck. Seeing the sea again brought back the memories of sailing away a year ago. After the Night King was dead, she had boarded a ship full of hope and discovery to journey west. It was not a good memory, as the boat had broken up in a fierce storm 10 days out from the westernmost coast. 6 days in the water before a fisher found her had nearly killed her, and she had sworn off sailing forever....
A nearly silent footfall off one shoulder caught her attention, and she wheeled towards it, hand touching Needle at her waist. "Aye, Salty, quick as ever I see." She took in the grey of his beard, but the stark blue of his eyes sparkled at her, "No one has called me Salty since I was 10. Do I know you?"
"No lass but I knew your father for a time." I captained a ship on which he was aboard for a while. When he spoke of his youngest daughter, 'Salty,' his eyes lit up. That name may serve you well soon," His eyes crinkled into a smile as he said the words.
"You have me at a disadvantage, sir," Arya quipped. The older man smiled at that, "Forgetting me manners, am I? My friends call me Dirk, Captain Dirk." Before the words finished leaving his mouth, a dirk quivered in the bench beside her. She took in the exotic weapon as it still vibrated in solid wood. "Valyrian steel, unless I miss my guess," Arya smiled back menacingly at the man. "Good eye," Dirk said. "And I do mean to be a true friend, lass, make no mistake." The older man nodded his head at her.
Arya caught movement further down the wharf. Sansa, her sister, was pushing her brother Bran in his chair. A small crowd of others followed them. Brienne of Tarth was impossible to miss, and it looked like Gendry was beside her. Several knights and what looked like a couple of woodsmen were in a small group around a large, low wagon. Whatever it was carrying was covered by a heavy cloth. There was a small, strange girl being escorted or driven before them. "Hello, Arya," Bran said. "It is good to see you again."
Arya nodded at Sansa and blurted out, "Why am I here, Bran?" "I mean to reward you," Bran smirked, "And give you a mission." Bran turned toward the sea and said, "Ah, here is your reward now." A large 4-masted ship had come into view, and she could see its Iron Islands flag lowered and a silver banner with what looked like a wolf's face going up. "She was christened the 'Sovereign,' but she's your ship, so call her what you like," Bran had that matter-of-fact look on his face as he said it. She knew that look...trouble was coming,
"She's huge, Bran, and is that Nymeria's face on the flag?" No sooner than the words left her lips, a low whine came from the covered box on the wagon. Arya stepped back; she knew that sound. Bran pointlessly quipped, "Yes, she's more than 90 yards long...and yes, that's your dire wolfs likeness."
Sansa laughed and said, "They captured her, Arya. I couldn't let them kill her." But Arya was already running towards the wagon, and a deep growl issued from it as the tarp was pulled away. "She's been eating people," Sansa chortled. "Be careful." But it was too late, Arya was at the wagon's side. "Nymeria?" she said, tears in her eyes, in wonder. She reached a hand between the bars, but the wolf bowed its back and growled. It nipped at her hand, but then it sniffed her, and a look of recognition entered its deep gold eyes. Nymeria lay down, but she was not at ease; her fur had a ragged look to it, and it was clear she hadn't eaten in some time."Let her free!" Arya shouted and went to her knees.
"Now hold on, Arya," Bran stated over his shoulder. "She's killed dozens of good men, and their families want her blood." "She can't be free in the 7 kingdoms ever again." "The only way she lives is if she goes with you on this mission."
The young girl started singing hauntingly in a language no one understood, and she climbed right through the bars of Nymeria's cage. When the shock of it wore off, Arya asked, "Who is she?" Everyone's eyes were on the young girl as she settled down in the cage in front of Nymeria. "She's some kind of pixie we think, maybe like the First Children." Bran's eyes held a fascination as he followed the girl's actions. "That's your mission, Arya." "Take the girl home." "Her nanny has been teaching her our language since she got here. A fisher found her floating in a small dinghy far to the west." "When asked where she was from, she just pointed west." "Look at her ears," Bran admonished her. Arya studied the young girl, eyes moving between her and Nymeria. The girl's ears were slightly pointed, and her skin had a silver sheen. She definitely wasn't human. "What's your name, girl?" Arya asked. The young girl looked deeply into Arya's eyes. "This one remembers you...but there is ...pain." Then she pointed to herself and said "Calanthiel" in a distant language and in a way few could reproduce. Her nanny stepped forward and said, "We've been calling her Calancy." Curtsying, the young woman added, "Begging your pardon, ma'am, my name is Beth." Calancy pointed at Nymeria and said, "I calm her."