Arya rides into Town

Three Friends

Arya huddled close to the roaring kitchen fire. Steam rose from her hair, and she had to continually move to avoid the heat searing her bare skin. Despite having stripped off her stinking clothes and been cleaned, Arya was sure she still ponged of fish guts. But the pleasant aroma of baking pies was helping banish the nasal memory of being in the horrible box.

Elsa had been the first one to throw her arms around Arya when the Innkeeper decided he was going to continue helping and not turn her in. Ignoring the fish scales clinging to her olive serving dress as she embraced her friend. Though she had stepped away fairly smartly when the stench had begun to burn her nose.

Then, as Elsa was helping Arya out of her sodden clothes, Lisa had barrelled into the room and leapt at her friend. The younger girl, however, had been less polite about Arya's situation. She scurried outside wretching and claimed it was the foulest smell her little nose had ever known.

The Innkeeper called two kitchen hands to unload the fish while Elsa led Arya into a dilapidated washroom at the back of the kitchen. The wooden shutters were broken, and the door had to be wedged shut with a thick block of wood, but it provided enough privacy for Arya to strip naked and wash without her stench pervading through the Inn.

Lisa helped carry as water as she could. Her skinny arms struggling a full bucket of warm water from the kitchen. When the filth was wiped from Arya's skin, Elsa found some slightly too small trousers and an overlarge tunic she could wear. Grateful for the dry warmth, Arya was led into the kitchen, and while Elsa prepared her a basic breakfast of warm brown bread and pork, Lisa demanded Arya explain why she was delivered in a box of fish.

It was hard to be hungry with events still spinning through Arya's mind, and the daunting prospect of solving the town's problems hanging over her. But Arya knew she needed to restore her energy, and the warm bread tasted good. The heavenly smells the big oven reminded her of Hot Pie's cooking, and for a moment she entered a wistful world where she, Gendry and Hot Pie were together again in a different Inn telling tall tales and without a care in the world. Then, remembering the last time she'd seen Hot Pie on the road to King's Landing with Sandor, she blushed, switching her concentration to tearing into the heavily salted pork.

Lisa brought her back to reality, pushing a goblet of wine into her hand. While Arya knew water would be wiser for keeping a clear head, she welcomed the warm, relaxing feeling the sweet apple-wine provided.

"I saw your mother," Arya said to Elsa. "She was okay. I'm going to get her out of there."

"I know." Elsa hunkered down, adding more logs to the fire after stoking the embers. The kitchen was a hive of activity directed by the Innkeeper and his sister. The large framed lady imposed her presence with constant verbal assaults on anyone she considered slacking. While she lived in the Inn the woman rarely made an appearance, preferring to let her brother run things. There were whispers she was a great cook, though rarely did she venture into the kitchen. With the Lord's feast to be catered for, however, it was deemed too important for her to languish in her rooms sipping wine. Other townsfolk had been called in to augment the normally sparse staff numbers and ensure the Lord's orders were carried out to the letter.

Every spare tablespace was taken up by food preparation, and the Innkeeper's sister moved some people into the common room to continue work.

Despite conjuring the tastiest looking food Bitterbridge had seen for many a year, it was no labour of love. The sweat on the brow of the Innkeeper was as much with fear of what would happen if he didn't deliver, than from the heat of the ovens. He would occasionally glance over at Arya with a look of pleading on her face.