After, after she’d gained the alliance of the wolves and the loyalty of Brotherhood Without Banners (after she’d finally put her mother to rest), after she had gathered the scattered River Lords around her, after they had sacked the Twins and re-taken Riverrun - there is a coronation.

They do not give her Robb’s crown- that crown was lost, somewhere along the way- but secretly Arya is glad for it: at least this crown, for all its rushed ironwork and unpolished shine and lack of adornment, is entirely her own.

“To the Queen of the Trident!” her uncle shouts, his fist raised, “Queen of the Trident! Queen of the Trident!” echo her people, and in the distance wolves begin to howl.