Arya Stark (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fearcutsdeeperthanswords) wrote2011-06-06 02:59 pm
fearcutsdeeperthanswords) wrote2011-06-06 02:59 pm
Entry tags:
OOC | lastvoyages app
User Name/Nick: Ari
User LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rivin
AIM/IM: FallenSun13
E-mail: redrobin133@gmail.com
Other Characters: T'Pol, Tim, Cooper, Olive
Character Name: Arya Stark
Series: A Song of Ice and Fire
Age: about 12. Truthfully, she lost track of her age when she had to run away from everything she knew at 9.
From When?: Near the end of Feast for Crows, after murdering Dareon and before returning to the House of Black and White.
Inmate/Warden: Warden. Arya has had a poor lot in life, and she's killed a lot of people - but most of them were either because she had no choice, or were in line with the laws of her world. Not to mention, she has five members of her family she's determined to make deals for.
Item: The iron coin Jaqen H'ghar gave her at Harrenhal.
Abilities/Powers: Arya has shown signs of being a warg, also known as a skinchanger, someone who can slip their skin and enter the minds of animals, controlling their actions. She's only done this with Nymeria, her lost wolf, and she isn't aware that they're anything more than dreams at this point. With work, she could theoretically become as adapt at it as her younger brother Bran, who was once able to slip into another human's mind, however briefly.
Beyond that, she has become extremely adept with a knife and sword. She's quick, quiet, and was taught to see - as in, beyond the surface of a situation. Once, Queen Cersei had King's Landing men dress as Winterfell men, hoping to catch her when she disappeared in the city. Most nine-year-olds would have run right into the trap, but thanks to her teaching from Syrio Forel, Arya saw it and was able to get away.
Personality: Arya has often been compared to her Aunt Lyanna, a woman who, in a way, started the war that most of the shit Arya has been through can be dated back to. Though she never met Lyanna, Arya is very much like her, though more in personality than appearance (though they are, apparently, similar on that level too). Lyanna was said to be fiery and willful and outspoken, and Arya has been like a miniature Lyanna all her life. Though her parents clearly wanted her to be a lady, she couldn't imagine anything more dull; ladies sew and dance and since, and Arya is good at absolutely none of those things. In her mind, needlework is sword practice (her sword is called Needle), and dancing is the waterdancing of Braavos, a style of sword fighting. She can be blunt, and frequently says what's on her mind. When her father told her that she could not be lord of a castle, but could be mother to lords and knights and princes, she shook her head and refused. That was not the life she wanted, one of dresses and real needles and children: she wants adventure and exploration and new things, and even if the Starks had not fallen and the War of the Five Kings had not happened, her parents would have been hard pressed to talk their willful daughter into marrying.
Born during a summer that lasted ten years (long by even her world's standards), Arya was a child of summer, and winter is coming. The Stark motto was never more apt in describing Arya's life. Her earliest years were spent happily, playing with her brothers and tormenting (and occasionally hating) her sister. It was a good, if cold environment, and she took to her bastard brother Jon Snow very early on. They were both of them a little different, just enough to stand apart from the others. They had the Stark coloring, while the rest of their siblings inherited Arya's mother's Tully coloring. Something so small frequently has a profound affect on children: Arya never felt like a redheaded stepchild, but she was always a little different. She hated sitting still and learning to sew, though her sister Sansa did so wonderfully. She wanted to be in the practice yards, to learn the sword with Robb and Jon and Bran. When it was clear that wasn't going to happen, she did everything she could to avoid all those things she'd have to learn to be a lady.
That was where one of her earliest aliases came from: Arya Underfoot.
Arya has always been a curious girl. She wants to know how something works and why, if it interests her, and she has a tendency to look into things herself, prefering a first hand experience. Harwin, one of Winterfell's sworn guards, took to calling her Underfoot, along with his father Hullen, the Master of Horse: she was frequently in the stables when avoiding Septa Mordane's lessons. Many things are worth learning, after all, but some things are just really, really stupid.
Identity in general is a very big deal with Arya. She's gone by many names in the last few years: her given name, Arya of House Stark, is something she had to abandon during the fall of the Starks in King's Landing. Before that, while still living at Winterfell, she was called Arya Underfoot, as above, and Arya Horseface - something her sister's friend Jeyne called her whenever she was being particularly annoying. She was Arry when she pretended to be a boy heading to the Wall, Weasel when she was captured by the Mountain, the Ghost of Harrenhal, responsible for several deaths in that burned and dreary place, Nymeria an Nan when she acted as Roose Bolton's cupbearer, Salty on her journey from Saltpans to Braavos, Cat when she wandered the alleys and causeways of Braavos' ports, and most importantly, no one when she entered the House of Black and White, and the guild of the Faceless Men. She's very bad at being no one, because under the lies and false names she is still Arya Stark, a Stark of Winterfell, and member of a once proud pack.
That's another thing that has kept her alive, the idea of having a pack. The sigil of House Stark is a direwolf, a giant species of wolf that has forever been tied to her family. Her father once taught her that when winter comes, the lone wolf dies while the pack survives. Though it's still autumn where she comes from, Arya's life has been in winter since the Starks fell at King's Landing. With her family scattered, then killed, she made her pack where she could: for a while, Hot Pie and Gendry and Lommy were good enough, but Lommy was killed, Hot Pie left them, and Gendry dissolved the pack completely when he chose to join Beric Dondarrion. She should have known not to make of them her pack: they weren't really wolves, not the way Starks are.
Letting her father's advice go has proven hard: she has been a wolf alone for many months, now, trying to be no one. She still aches for a pack, though she's found that if a lone wolf must die, no one can survive.
But Arya has always been very good at that: she's made do under terrible circumstances. When the Starks fell, she fled the Red Keep and survived in the most miserable part of King's Landing. She could have allowed herself to be taken captive and avoided much of the hardship she suffered, but it isn't in Arya to give in. When her safe ticket back home to Winterfell died in battle, she carried on with her substitute pack; when the Hound kidnapped her, she tolerated it because he was taking her to her mother. And when her mother and Robb died at the Red Wedding she found a way to carry on despite the hole in her heart. She has manage to take the absolute worst of every hand she's been dealt, and find a way to survive. She resourceful, and cunning, and observant: she does everything she needs to in order to survive, because she knows better than most that she can't control the people around her. Bad things happen, and they happen frequently, and all you can do is look and listen and look after yourself and your pack, for however long it's around.
And when it is around, she can be devoted. Arya will never be the type to fall over herself to help another, but when she cares for someone, she will protect them and move them toward safety to the best of her abilities. She frequently foun fault in traveling with Hot Pie and Gendry, and knew that she could make much better time, and be less likely to be spotted by others on the road without them, but despite considering abandoning them, she couldn't leave her pack until they'd left her. She knows what it is to protect your own - even though she never got on with Sansa, even though in many ways she hates her sister, Arya would defend her. She is pack, and nothing will change that. Arya also understands that sometimes protecting those you care about can hurt both of you. Before King Robert arrived in Winterfell, when all this began, her brothers found a litter of direwolf pups at their dead mother's teat. There were five, one for each Stark, and a sixth for Jon. Jon said they were meant to have them, that they were a sign from the old gods - but all Arya cared about was that she had a wolf pup that was all her own. All the children bonded with their wolves, but Arya was the first to lose hers. Nymeria was like Arya in too many ways to not believe that it was fated: but on the long trip south, when Nymeria defended her by biting Prince Joffrey, Arya knew that the king and queen would have her wolf killed. She did everything she could to save Nymeria: ultimately, she had to throw rocks, and struck the wolf twice before she ran. Arya has wolf dreams, sometimes, dreams that she is Nymeria, with a pack of southron wolves around her. She doesn't know they are true dreams, but they are her favorite.
Part of what allowed her to keep Hot Pie and Gendry safe was her wit, but even more so was the fact that she is as quick on her feet as she is to act. Shit has had a way of hitting the fan frequently in recent years, and Arya has survived it by thinking quickly and acting quicker. Staying a step ahead is out of the question for someone who can't control the people around her, but keeping apace is something she's more than familiar with. To escape the Red Keep, she did not run, which would have drawn the attention of the guards, but walked right out of the castle. She kept her head down and her eyes up. Later, she held a watch with her small pack, and did what she could to keep Hot Pie and Gendry from being found by the wrong people. Despite being the smallest, and the youngest, she was their leader: she could read, and she could guide, and she knew not to make a fire at night in the middle of the war ravaged riverlands. Arya is a very smart girl, and though she doesn't come off as a dominant personality, she takes to the role of leadership naturally.
And as far as natural things go, killing has become second nature to Arya. Ever since leaving King's Landing, she has whispered a prayer to herself every night before sleeping, whether she was camping on the road, living in Harrenhal, traveling through the riverlands, or becoming no one in Bravos: "Ser Gregor," it goes, "Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei." It used to be longer, and should be somewhat shorter, but there's no such thing as instant communication or obituaries in Westeros or the Free Cities. These are the people who have harmed her or those she cares about. Gregor took her and Hot Pie and Gendry captive, and allowed his men to commit atrocities to the small folk. Dunsen was one of those men, as was Raff. Ser Ilyn beheaded her father, Ser Meryn killed her waterdancing instructor Syrio, and Cersei was responsible for the fall of the Starks. Arya managed to kill several of the people who had been on her hit list herself, in addition to others who had the misfortune of trying to take her to the queen, or of standing guard the night she escaped from Harrenhal.
She has not regretted these murders. She's rejoiced in some of them. The Tickler was one of Gregor's men, and interrogator who would torture one prisoner in front of the rest, before killing them. Arya watched him work many, many times, and when she killed him she stabbed him as many times as the questions he would ask of those he 'tickled.' He terrified her: killing him was a balm.
Once, before she knew her mother was dead, she wondered what Lady Catelyn would think of her if she knew, and worried that her mother would not want her back for many reasons - murder amongst them. Beyond that, however, Arya has allowed revenge to become her prayer, her salve, her replacement for her pack. She believes the majority of her family to be dead, her pack dispersed; she has no place to go, and no family to turn to. All that is left is revenge for what she lost.
Path to Redemption: --
History: Arya's history, and summations of: A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, and A Feast for Crows.
Arya was born and grew up during the long summer, in a noble house: she was the second daughter of the Warden of the North, a Stark of Winterfell. She never put much stock in birth stature, however; Arya was always happy to play with high and lowborn alike. It didn't matter, as long as the game was fun. She spent the majority of her earliest years causing mischief and getting into trouble, and dashing again and again her parents' hopes that she'd one day be a proper lady. She rarely showed up for Septa Mordane's lessons on needlework: watching her brothers in the practice yards was far more entertaining. When Jon and Robb and Bran brought back their direwolf pups, it got even worse: Nymeria was the perfect accomplice, and training a direwolf was, of course, far more important than learning to stitch a straight line.
When the king showed up, and asked her father to be his Hand, she saw it as an opportunity for adventure. The journey south back to King's Landing would take months, and Nymeria would be with her. So would her sister Sansa, whom Arya never really got on with, but she could ignore that. Before they left, her bastard half-brother Jon had a small, thin sword made for her, and helped her name it Needle. A lady must know her needlework, after all.
Until Prince Joffrey, her sister's prideful and cruel betrothed-to-be, decided to torment Arya's low born friend Mycah for playing at swords with her. When the prince saw fit to draw his real sword where Arya and Mycah had been using sticks, Arya interceded, and Joffrey turned on her. That was when Nymeria attacked, mauling the prince's arm before Arya called her off, and ran.
She had to throw stones at Nymeria to get the wolf to leave. It was the hardest thing she'd had to do up until that point, but she knew that if Nymeria stayed, the king and queen would have her killed.
It worked; Nymeria was spared. but Queen Cersei proved cruel, and had Lady - Sansa'a direwolf - killed instead. And the Hound, Sandor Clegane, Joffrey's sworn man, rode Mycah down and killed him.
After that, nothing could convince her that King's Landing was a place of adventure. She wanted to go back home, but more than that, she wanted to go back to that area of the Trident, and find Nymeria again. She could do neither, though, and eventually found something to love in the capital of the Seven Kingdoms: Syrio Forel, the Braavosi waterdancing teacher her father found. It wasn't dancing he taught her, but needlework - and the way a warrior sees.
But all that came to an end, too; the Lannisters orchestrated the fall of the Starks. Arya saw Stark men killed, and when a stableboy threatened to bring her to the king, she killed him. It was his life or her freedom: she didn't even think about it. After that, she spent days in Flea Bottom, the poorest part of King's Landing, where most people thought she was a boy, and no one thought she was Arya of House Stark. Eventually, her father was brought forward in front of Baelor's Sept, and there he was beheaded for treason. Arya was there, though Yoren, a man of the Night's Watch, kept her from seeing the deed.
She started a long journey north, then, with a band of boys and prisoners, all being taken to the Wall to take the black. Yoren was going to leave her at Winterfell, before continuing on with the other boys to the Wall. Those plans fell through when they were attacked by Ser Armory Loch. Yoren died, and the boys and men who lived scattered. But Hot Pie, Lommy, and Gendry stayed. They became her pack while they traveled, and they traveled far. Until Lommy was killed when Ser Gregor, the Mountain that Rides, captured them. She watched the Mountain's man, who she knew only as the Tickler, torture and kill many people, always wondering if she'd be next.
Eventually they reached Harrenhal, the cursed castle, and Arya entered a life of servitude. She labored under Weese, until Jaqen H'Ghar showed up. He was one of three men she'd saved in the attack that killed Yoren - and he promised her three lives in return. She became the Ghost at Harrenhal, killing with a whisper: at her bidding, Jaqen killed Chiswyck, one of the Mountain's men, and Weese. When she realized her choices had been selfish and petty, in terms of the war that was raging across Westeros, she conned Jaqen into helping her free the northmen who had been taken prisoner. Roose Bolton took charge of the castle, rousting most of the Lannister men who remained, and Arya stayed on to act as his cupbearer. When she learned that the castle was to be left to the Brave Companions, a group of mercenaries who were renowned for their cruelty, she convinced Hot Pie and Gendry to escape with her. They traveled for a long time, heading for Riverrun, her mother's House, but they never got there: Hot Pie left them at an inn, and just as the Mountain had taken them prisoner, so did Beric Dondarrion, a man who had did six times, and been brought back to life.
He was a kinder captor than the Mountain, but he was still a captor. Arya tried to escape, but it proved harder this time, and it wasn't until the Hound kidnapped her that she had hope of ever getting to her family. She fought him bitterly, until he told her where he was taking her: the Crossing, where her mother and brother Robb would be, for her uncle's wedding.
It would become known as the Red Wedding: they arrived just in time to see the Freys turn on her brother's people and kill Robb, the King in the north.
After that, she was listless. She traveled with the Hound, often saying nothing, not knowing where to go or who would have her or who to be. As far as she knew, all her family was dead. Eventually, she and the Hound happened upon an inn, where she met the Tickler and Polliver, another of the Mountain's men, who had stolen Needle. There was a squire with them as well, and when a fight broke out, she killed him, and the Tickler, stabbing him repeatedly. She had Needle back and she had shaken off some of her depression: but the Hound had been badly wounded. She helped him at first, but when he begged the gift of mercy - of death - she recalled what he'd done to Mycah, and refused. She left him to die, and traveled on alone, to a harbor called Saltpans. There she bought passage on a ship to Braavos, the home of Syrio Forel and Jaqen H'Ghar, who had taught her so much.
There, she entered the House of Black and White, and became no one.
Sample Journal Entry: [Arya has never seen electronics before. It's officially at the top of her list of Must Be Magic things she's already seen on the Barge. Her room was number one until she found her device. Now she's busy trying to figure out what all the buttons are for. At least she can read and write, but there are buttons that aren't letters that she just doesn't get.
So, Barge, you're being subjected to the Arya method of making electronics work. It doesn't involve hitting the on button.
When the video finally clicks on, there's no sound, the screen is doing one of those constant rolls upward, before freezing in the middle, with the top of one frame at the bottom, and the bottom of the same frame at the top. It's a technical disaster. The image suddenly straightens out again, turns purple, and shakes hideously - she's banging it against the floor. That's when the audio clicks on.]
--and. Valar morghulis? Valar doeharis-- Stupid, things can't do magic on their own--
[She falls silent again, scowling, and suddenly the feed goes black. For a long time.
When the picture comes back, it's not purple, and it's relatively steadied, and Arya still doesn't know how to work it, but one good thump managed to hit the right buttons. She also has no idea how to aim it, so there is a super close up shot of the lower left side of her face. What you can tell is, she has a jaw! A small jaw. She's pretty young. But it's hard to tell if she's a girl or a boy; people have mistaken her for a boy loads of times, and her hair is at that in between point where it could really go either way.]
Is this how everyone talks to each other? Don't you use ravens, or-- [She's been moving about, and now the edge of a plain, practically medieval styled wooden door can be seen: she's looking out into the hall.] Does everyone live in this hall? Why don't you just walk to whoever you want to talk to?
...How is it lit? [Where are the torches. :|]
((OOC: Aaand here are a few extras from dear_mun, with spoilery elements: Here, two, and c.))
Sample RP: Here is one in the setting of the book, and here's one on the Barge:
Mealtimes were going to take getting used to. Where was the roasted aurochs? The trout wrapped in bacon? Arya had assumed that a place like this would have a kitchen worthy of Harrenhal, or at least of Acorn Hall, but there wasn't even simpler fare - no fruit tarts, no pease pudding, not even oatcakes or black pudding! There were pieces of the thinnest meat she'd ever seen pressed between slices of bread, or meals she didn't recognize at all. Breakfast was especially trying. There was something peculiarly like porridge, but it was dry: she watched as other people added milk, and when she did so herself she found it interesting but strange.
Dinner, at least, was a chance to experiment. Picking out any fish dish was almost automatic to her, after so many months in Braavos; they relied on fish there, and given how often she'd shouted 'mussels and cockles and clams,' it felt only fitting. But it was never baked in clay or wrapped in bacon or crusted in almonds, and she never could quite recognize all the flavors. It was almost as odd as realizing she didn't smell of fish anymore. Her hands smelled like soap, and not like lemon water, which had only masked the smell. She was clean, and liable to stay clean here. The only place to dirty herself she'd found had been the - what did they call it? The CES. That was magic, she didn't care who tried to say otherwise. She'd explored as far and long as she dared, and come to the conclusion that it could go on forever. It would be the perfect place to practice her needlework.
Which was a much more tantalizing idea than food, but she wanted to know what this brown substance on her bread was. It looked creamy, but there were bits and pieces in it that made her frown - but when she tried one, it tasted like a nut. Not like a pine nut, but something like it, and it was almost sweet. She ate a whole slice like that, but by the end her mouth felt as if it was sticking together. Resolving to try something that looked suspiciously like roast goat next time, Arya slipped out of the dining hall, her hand resting on Needle's hilt. She was still wary, sometimes, and she'd find herself doing it when she didn't mean to; then she'd remember what she'd learned at the House of Black and White, and force her hand away. She controlled her body, her hand was a tool, she would not be ruled by it.
Pressing Jaqen's coin into the lock on the door of the CES, Arya whispered "Valar morghulis" to herself, and pushed the door open. Silently, she walked through the woods, looking for the pale bark that would denote a weirwood, but she couldn't find one. Instead, she stopped at a big tree, three or four - maybe five - times as wide as she was. There was a branch low enough that she could grab it with a big jump, and she walked herself up the trunk. Another branch, and then another, until she found one steady and solid under her bare feet. They were callused, and up there, amid leaves and branches, she drew Needle, and hacked and slashed at the air and any leaf that got in the way.
"Ser Gregor," she said to herself, twisting her arm in a jab that Syrio had taught her. "Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling." She pivoted gracefully, thinking light as a feather. "Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn." She Slashed, cut, and finally stabbed, where she knew the heart would sit in a woman grown. "Queen Cersei, valar morghulis!" She paused, breathing hard, arm still outstretched as she stared at the tree. What had once been a golden haired woman became the trunk again, and she pulled Needle from the tree, shoving it back into her belt.
As she started the climb down, she muttered the words Jaqen had taught her again. All men must die.
Special Notes: So I know that Arya's age is the most immediate and glaring problem here, but I thought I'd leave a note to try and make her case a little more. I think the biggest problems with young characters, especially young wardens, is that there is the risk their inmate won't listen to/respect them, and the fact that occasionally characters go through some pretty tough scenarios. For the first problem, I think that this is an issue that many characters have: when you pair certain inmates with certain wardens, there's going to be a divide over IC philosophies no matter what, so I don't think she'd run into any situation where she couldn't gain respect over time, like a lot of wardens have to do with their inmates anyway. She is also the kind of character who would work well with a certain type of inmate, but one look at the pairing page shows that most characters work like that. I can already see a couple inmates would could feasibly work out well with her. We had a thirteen-year-old warden a while back - Cassie, from Push - and she was able to manage; arguably, Arya is more an adult, and more adept at dealing with the hardships she's faced than Cassie was. As to the second concern, Arya at age twelve is already more capable than a several wardens we've had. As far as my own go, I know Arya will handle awful situations a thousand times more capably than Olive. In a few ways, she could even deal with things better than Tim, because she's been through so much. We've had Rapunzel and Giselle in the past, and as I understand it, they were able to function on the Barge - and they are far, far more innocent than Arya. She's killed, she's been in the company of murderers and thieves, of people who have threatened to hurt and rape and kill her, and she's managed to get by without it destroying her. There's also the fact that she comes from a medieval setting, where children aren't really children after, oh, age seven-ish. At twelve, had things not gone to hell in her life, she'd be looking at a betrothal and a marriage within a couple years, and she'd be having kids of her own in five. To all intents and purposes in her world, Arya isn't a child, and that fact that she'd be treated as one here would be interesting, for me, to play through, since she is - as her canon shows - more than capable of handling herself without help.
User Name/Nick: Ari
User LJ:rivin
AIM/IM: FallenSun13
E-mail: redrobin133@gmail.com
Other Characters: T'Pol, Tim, Cooper, Olive
Character Name: Arya Stark
Series: A Song of Ice and Fire
Age: about 12. Truthfully, she lost track of her age when she had to run away from everything she knew at 9.
From When?: Near the end of Feast for Crows, after murdering Dareon and returning to the House of Black and White. I'm going to say the milk she drank killed her instead of made her blind.
Inmate/Warden: Inmate. Arya is a good person at her core, but circumstance has forced her to do terrible things, and she's adapted: revenge is all she wants at this point. Age is a non-issue for her: Arya's world is one of adults. Children have responsibilities beyond schooling when they're anywhere between seven and ten; Arya left her childhood behind when she left Winterfell at nine and lost Nymeria. She doesn't have much patience for children herself, either.
Item: --
Abilities/Powers: Arya has shown signs of being a warg, also known as a skinchanger, someone who can slip their skin and enter the minds of animals, controlling their actions. She's only done this with Nymeria, her lost wolf, and she isn't aware that they're anything more than dreams at this point. With work, she could theoretically become as adapt at it as her younger brother Bran, who was once able to slip into another human's mind, however briefly.
Beyond that, she has become extremely adept with a knife and sword. She's quick, quiet, and was taught to see - as in, beyond the surface of a situation. Once, Queen Cersei had King's Landing men dress as Winterfell men, hoping to catch her when she disappeared in the city. Most nine-year-olds would have run right into the trap, but thanks to her teaching from Syrio Forel, Arya saw it and was able to get away.
Personality: Arya has often been compared to her Aunt Lyanna, a woman who, in a way, started the war that most of the shit Arya has been through can be dated back to. Though she never met Lyanna, Arya is very much like her, though more in personality than appearance (though they are, apparently, similar on that level too). Lyanna was said to be fiery and willful and outspoken, and Arya has been like a miniature Lyanna all her life. Though her parents clearly wanted her to be a lady, she couldn't imagine anything more dull; ladies sew and dance and sing, and Arya is good at absolutely none of those things. In her mind, needlework is sword practice (her sword is called Needle), and dancing is the waterdancing of Braavos, a style of sword fighting. She can be blunt, and frequently says what's on her mind. When her father told her that she could not be lord of a castle, but could be mother to lords and knights and princes, she shook her head and refused. That was not the life she wanted, one of dresses and real needles and children: she wants adventure and exploration and new things, and even if the Starks had not fallen and the War of the Five Kings had not happened, her parents would have been hard pressed to talk their willful daughter into marrying.
Born during a summer that lasted ten years (long even by her world's standards), Arya was a child of summer - and winter is coming. The Stark words were never more apt in describing Arya's life. Her earliest years were spent happily, playing with her brothers and tormenting (and occasionally hating) her sister. It was a good, if cold environment, and she took to her bastard brother Jon Snow very early on. They were both of them a little different, just enough to stand apart from the others. They had the Stark coloring, while the rest of their siblings inherited Arya's mother's Tully looks. Something so small frequently has a profound affect on children: Arya never felt like a redheaded stepchild, but she was always a little different. She hated sitting still and learning to sew, though her sister Sansa did so wonderfully. She wanted to be in the practice yards, to learn the sword with Robb and Jon and Bran. When it was clear that wasn't going to happen, she did everything she could to avoid all those things she'd have to learn to be a lady.
That was where one of her earliest aliases came from: Arya Underfoot.
Arya has always been a curious girl. She wants to know how something works and why, if it interests her, and she has a tendency to look into things herself, preferring a first hand experience. Harwin, one of Winterfell's sworn guards, took to calling her Underfoot, along with his father Hullen, the Master of Horse: she was frequently in the stables when avoiding Septa Mordane's lessons. Many things are worth learning, after all, but some things are just really, really stupid.
Identity in general is a very big deal with Arya. She's gone by many names in the last few years: her given name, Arya of House Stark, is something she had to abandon during the fall of the Starks in King's Landing. Before that, while still living at Winterfell, she was called Arya Underfoot, as above, and Arya Horseface - something her sister's friend Jeyne called her whenever she was being particularly annoying. She was Arry when she pretended to be a boy heading to the Wall, Weasel when she was captured by the Mountain, the Ghost of Harrenhal, responsible for several deaths in that burned and dreary place, Nymeria an Nan when she acted as Roose Bolton's cupbearer, Salty on her journey from Saltpans to Braavos, Cat when she wandered the alleys and causeways of Braavos' ports, and most importantly, no one when she entered the House of Black and White, and the guild of the Faceless Men. She's very bad at being no one, because under the lies and false names she is still Arya Stark, a Stark of Winterfell, and member of a once proud pack.
That's another thing that has kept her alive, the idea of having a pack. The sigil of House Stark is a direwolf, a giant species of wolf that has forever been tied to her family. Her father once taught her that when winter comes, the lone wolf dies while the pack survives. Though it's still autumn where she comes from, Arya's life has been in winter since the Starks fell at King's Landing. With her family scattered, then killed, she made her pack where she could: for a while, Hot Pie and Gendry and Lommy were good enough, but Lommy was killed, Hot Pie left them, and Gendry dissolved the pack completely when he chose to join Beric Dondarrion. She should have known not to make of them her pack: they weren't really wolves, not the way Starks are.
Letting her father's advice go has proven hard: she has been a wolf alone for many months, now, trying to be no one. She still aches for a pack, though she's found that if a lone wolf must die, no one can survive. She's had to let go a lot of her father's ideals to do that.
But Arya has always been very good at that: she's made do under terrible circumstances. When the Starks fell, she fled the Red Keep and survived in the most miserable part of King's Landing. She could have allowed herself to be taken captive and avoided much of the hardship she suffered, but it isn't in Arya to give in. When her safe ticket back home to Winterfell died in battle, she carried on with her substitute pack; when the Hound kidnapped her, she tolerated it because he was taking her to her mother. And when her mother and Robb died at the Red Wedding she found a way to carry on despite the hole in her heart. She has manage to take the absolute worst of every hand she's been dealt, and find a way to survive. She resourceful, and cunning, and observant: she does everything she needs to in order to survive, because she knows better than most that she can't control the people around her. Bad things happen, and they happen frequently, and all you can do is look and listen and look after yourself and your pack, for however long it's around.
And when it is around, she can be devoted. Arya will never be the type to fall over herself to help another, but when she cares for someone, she will protect them and move them toward safety to the best of her abilities. She frequently found fault in traveling with Hot Pie and Gendry, and knew that she could make much better time, and be less likely to be spotted by others on the road without them, but despite considering abandoning them, she couldn't leave her pack until they'd left her. She knows what it is to protect your own - even though she never got on with Sansa, even though in many ways she hates her sister, Arya would defend her. She is pack, and nothing will change that. Arya also understands that sometimes protecting those you care about can hurt both of you. Before King Robert arrived in Winterfell, when all this began, her brothers found a litter of direwolf pups at their dead mother's teat. There were five, one for each Stark, and a sixth for Jon. Jon said they were meant to have them, that they were a sign from the old gods - but all Arya cared about was that she had a wolf pup that was all her own. All the children bonded with their wolves, but Arya was the first to lose hers. Nymeria was like Arya in too many ways to not believe that it was fated: but on the long trip south, when Nymeria defended her by biting Prince Joffrey, Arya knew that the king and queen would have her wolf killed. She did everything she could to save Nymeria: ultimately, she had to throw rocks, and struck the wolf twice before she ran. Arya has wolf dreams, sometimes, dreams that she is Nymeria, with a pack of southron wolves around her. She doesn't know they are true dreams, but they are her favorite.
Part of what allowed her to keep Hot Pie and Gendry safe was her wit, but even more so was the fact that she is as quick on her feet as she is to act. Shit has had a way of hitting the fan frequently in recent years, and Arya has survived it by thinking quickly and acting quicker. Staying a step ahead is out of the question for someone who can't control the people around her, but keeping apace is something she's more than familiar with. To escape the Red Keep, she did not run, which would have drawn the attention of the guards, but walked right out of the castle. She kept her head down and her eyes up. Later, she held a watch with her small pack, and did what she could to keep Hot Pie and Gendry from being found by the wrong people. Despite being the smallest, and the youngest, she was their leader: she could read, and she could guide, and she knew not to make a fire at night in the middle of the war ravaged riverlands. Arya is a very smart girl, and though she doesn't come off as a dominant personality, she takes to the role of leadership naturally.
And as far as natural things go, killing has become second nature to Arya. Ever since leaving King's Landing, she has whispered a prayer to herself every night before sleeping, whether she was camping on the road, living in Harrenhal, traveling through the riverlands, or becoming no one in Bravos: "Ser Gregor," it goes, "Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei." It used to be longer, and should be somewhat shorter, but there's no such thing as instant communication or obituaries in Westeros or the Free Cities. These are the people who have harmed her or those she cares about. Gregor took her and Hot Pie and Gendry captive, and allowed his men to commit atrocities to the small folk. Dunsen was one of those men, as was Raff. Ser Ilyn beheaded her father, Ser Meryn killed her waterdancing instructor Syrio, and Cersei was responsible for the fall of the Starks. Arya managed to kill several of the people who had been on her hit list herself, in addition to others who had the misfortune of trying to take her to the queen, or of standing guard the night she escaped from Harrenhal.
She has not regretted these murders. She's rejoiced in some of them. The Tickler was one of Gregor's men, and interrogator who would torture one prisoner in front of the rest, before killing them. Arya watched him work many, many times, and when she killed him she stabbed him as many times as the questions he would ask of those he 'tickled.' He terrified her: killing him was a balm.
Once, before she knew her mother was dead, she wondered what Lady Catelyn would think of her if she knew, and worried that her mother would not want her back for many reasons - murder amongst them. Beyond that, however, Arya has allowed revenge to become her prayer, her salve, her replacement for her pack. She believes the majority of her family to be dead, her pack dispersed; she has no place to go, and no family to turn to. All that is left is revenge for what she lost.
Path to Redemption: Arya needs to be shown that revenge is not a replacement for justice. The best way to do this would probably be through her father: Ned Stark was a man who stood by the law, who was in every way an upright citizen. He killed people, too: in war, or as punishment for dereliction of duty. That was justice, in her world: what Arya has done, what Arya has made her focus in life, is not justice. She's joining a group of assassins in order to have revenge, not justice. What she needs to learn is that justice can be just as good as revenge. The difficulty in this will be that attempting to keep justice got her father killed. She needs to let go of her desire for revenge, which will be difficult: she thinks her family is dead or unattainable, and revenge has replaced mourning. That should be relatively easy to deal with: just get her proof.
She'll also be inclined to form a pack, eventually: a group of people she will come to trust. This is both good and bad for her: they'll become her family in a way. She'll know it's a poor substitute, most likely, unless they become incredibly close, but she'll be extremely protective of these people. If any harm comes to them, she is very likely to go after whoever hurt them. This can definitely be used to a warden's advantage: if that situation arises, talking her out of exacting revenge will be monumental. Be careful, though - she will very likely lie, if she believes that to be useful.
Lying is also something to watch out for: she doesn't have to stop lying to achieve redemption, but she will use it against any warden she doesn't trust - and possibly even those she does. Treating her like a child will just facilitate this: she will take advantage of those who treat her like a little girl, and likely not respect them very much, unless they prove themselves some other way. By the rules of her world, she is almost a woman grown, so being treated like a child in the modern world would be bizarre to her.
History: Arya's history, and summations of: A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, and A Feast for Crows.
Arya was born and grew up during the long summer, in a noble house: she was the second daughter of the Warden of the North, a Stark of Winterfell. She never put much stock in birth stature, however; Arya was always happy to play with high and lowborn alike. It didn't matter, as long as the game was fun. She spent the majority of her earliest years causing mischief and getting into trouble, and dashing again and again her parents' hopes that she'd one day be a proper lady. She rarely showed up for Septa Mordane's lessons on needlework: watching her brothers in the practice yards was far more entertaining. When Jon and Robb and Bran brought back their direwolf pups, it got even worse: Nymeria was the perfect accomplice, and training a direwolf was, of course, far more important than learning to stitch a straight line.
When the king showed up, and asked her father to be his Hand, she saw it as an opportunity for adventure. The journey south back to King's Landing would take months, and Nymeria would be with her. So would her sister Sansa, whom Arya never really got on with, but she could ignore that. Before they left, her bastard half-brother Jon had a small, thin sword made for her, and helped her name it Needle. A lady must know her needlework, after all.
Until Prince Joffrey, her sister's prideful and cruel betrothed-to-be, decided to torment Arya's low born friend Mycah for playing at swords with her. When the prince saw fit to draw his real sword where Arya and Mycah had been using sticks, Arya interceded, and Joffrey turned on her. That was when Nymeria attacked, mauling the prince's arm before Arya called her off, and ran.
She had to throw stones at Nymeria to get the wolf to leave. It was the hardest thing she'd had to do up until that point, but she knew that if Nymeria stayed, the king and queen would have her killed.
It worked; Nymeria was spared. but Queen Cersei proved cruel, and had Lady - Sansa'a direwolf - killed instead. And the Hound, Sandor Clegane, Joffrey's sworn man, rode Mycah down and killed him.
After that, nothing could convince her that King's Landing was a place of adventure. She wanted to go back home, but more than that, she wanted to go back to that area of the Trident, and find Nymeria again. She could do neither, though, and eventually found something to love in the capital of the Seven Kingdoms: Syrio Forel, the Braavosi waterdancing teacher her father found. It wasn't dancing he taught her, but needlework - and the way a warrior sees.
But all that came to an end, too; the Lannisters orchestrated the fall of the Starks. Arya saw Stark men killed, and when a stableboy threatened to bring her to the king, she killed him. It was his life or her freedom: she didn't even think about it. After that, she spent days in Flea Bottom, the poorest part of King's Landing, where most people thought she was a boy, and no one thought she was Arya of House Stark. Eventually, her father was brought forward in front of Baelor's Sept, and there he was beheaded for treason. Arya was there, though Yoren, a man of the Night's Watch, kept her from seeing the deed.
She started a long journey north, then, with a band of boys and prisoners, all being taken to the Wall to take the black. Yoren was going to leave her at Winterfell, before continuing on with the other boys to the Wall. Those plans fell through when they were attacked by Ser Armory Loch. Yoren died, and the boys and men who lived scattered. But Hot Pie, Lommy, and Gendry stayed. They became her pack while they traveled, and they traveled far. Until Lommy was killed when Ser Gregor, the Mountain that Rides, captured them. She watched the Mountain's man, who she knew only as the Tickler, torture and kill many people, always wondering if she'd be next.
Eventually they reached Harrenhal, the cursed castle, and Arya entered a life of servitude. She labored under Weese, until Jaqen H'Ghar showed up. He was one of three men she'd saved in the attack that killed Yoren - and he promised her three lives in return. She became the Ghost at Harrenhal, killing with a whisper: at her bidding, Jaqen killed Chiswyck, one of the Mountain's men, and Weese. When she realized her choices had been selfish and petty, in terms of the war that was raging across Westeros, she conned Jaqen into helping her free the northmen who had been taken prisoner. Roose Bolton took charge of the castle, rousting most of the Lannister men who remained, and Arya stayed on to act as his cupbearer. When she learned that the castle was to be left to the Brave Companions, a group of mercenaries who were renowned for their cruelty, she convinced Hot Pie and Gendry to escape with her. They traveled for a long time, heading for Riverrun, her mother's House, but they never got there: Hot Pie left them at an inn, and just as the Mountain had taken them prisoner, so did Beric Dondarrion, a man who had did six times, and been brought back to life.
He was a kinder captor than the Mountain, but he was still a captor. Arya tried to escape, but it proved harder this time, and it wasn't until the Hound kidnapped her that she had hope of ever getting to her family. She fought him bitterly, until he told her where he was taking her: the Crossing, where her mother and brother Robb would be, for her uncle's wedding.
It would become known as the Red Wedding: they arrived just in time to see the Freys turn on her brother's people and kill Robb, the King in the north.
After that, she was listless. She traveled with the Hound, often saying nothing, not knowing where to go or who would have her or who to be. As far as she knew, all her family was dead. She met a little girl along the way who had taken to following her around one of the villages they stayed at. Arya couldn't understand how very childish the girl was, though they were of an age. She had no patience for her tag-along, and eventually tore the head off her soldier doll to make her go away. The girl missed the point; Arya wasn't even aware she was making it. She knew more about the real world than most children ever would. Eventually, she and the Hound happened upon an inn, where she met the Tickler and Polliver, another of the Mountain's men, who had stolen Needle. There was a squire with them as well, and when a fight broke out, she killed him, and the Tickler, stabbing him repeatedly. She had Needle back and she had shaken off some of her depression: but the Hound had been badly wounded. She helped him at first, but when he begged the gift of mercy - of death - she recalled what he'd done to Mycah, and refused. She left him to die, and traveled on alone, to a harbor called Saltpans. There she bought passage on a ship to Braavos, the home of Syrio Forel and Jaqen H'Ghar, who had taught her so much.
There, she entered the House of Black and White, and became no one.
Sample Journal Entry: [Arya has never seen electronics before. It's officially at the top of her list of Must Be Magic things she's already seen on the Barge. Her room was number one until she found her device. Now she's busy trying to figure out what all the buttons are for. At least she can read and write, but there are buttons that aren't letters that she just doesn't get.
So, Barge, you're being subjected to the Arya method of making electronics work. It doesn't involve hitting the on button.
When the video finally clicks on, there's no sound, the screen is doing one of those constant rolls upward, before freezing in the middle, with the top of one frame at the bottom, and the bottom of the same frame at the top. It's a technical disaster. The image suddenly straightens out again, turns purple, and shakes hideously - she's banging it against the floor. That's when the audio clicks on.]
--and. Valar morghulis? Valar doeharis-- Stupid, things can't do magic on their own--
[She falls silent again, scowling, and suddenly the feed goes black. For a long time.
When the picture comes back, it's not purple, and it's relatively steadied, and Arya still doesn't know how to work it, but one good thump managed to hit the right buttons. She also has no idea how to aim it, so there is a super close up shot of the lower left side of her face. What you can tell is, she has a jaw! A small jaw. She's pretty young. But it's hard to tell if she's a girl or a boy; people have mistaken her for a boy loads of times, and her hair is at that in between point where it could really go either way.]
Is this how everyone talks to each other? Don't you use ravens, or-- [She's been moving about, and now the edge of a plain, practically medieval styled wooden door can be seen: she's looking out into the hall.] Does everyone live in this hall? Why don't you just walk to whoever you want to talk to? How is it lit? [Where are the torches. :|]
[She draws another breath, about to ask how she got here and what this place is, but she doesn't see anyone else wandering around confused. Everyone else seems to know. So it's time to play it cool as she looks around.] Where do these stairs go?
((OOC: Aaand here are a few extras from dear_mun, with spoilery elements: Here, two, and c. And here's one from another game that illustrates how she uses her appearance to get information.))
Sample RP: Here is one in the setting of the book, and here's one on the Barge:
Mealtimes were going to take getting used to. Where was the roasted aurochs? The trout wrapped in bacon? Arya had assumed that a place like this would have a kitchen worthy of Harrenhal, or at least of Acorn Hall, but there wasn't even simpler fare - no fruit tarts, no pease pudding, not even oatcakes or black pudding! There were pieces of the thinnest meat she'd ever seen pressed between slices of bread, or meals she didn't recognize at all. Breakfast was especially trying. There was something peculiarly like porridge, but it was dry: she watched as other people added milk, and when she did so herself she found it interesting but strange.
Dinner, at least, was a chance to experiment. Picking out any fish dish was almost automatic to her, after so many months in Braavos; they relied on fish there, and given how often she'd shouted 'mussels and cockles and clams,' it felt only fitting. But it was never baked in clay or wrapped in bacon or crusted in almonds, and she never could quite recognize all the flavors. It was almost as odd as realizing she didn't smell of fish anymore. Her hands smelled like soap, and not like lemon water, which had only masked the smell. She was clean, and liable to stay clean here. The only place to dirty herself she'd found had been the - what did they call it? The CES. That was magic, she didn't care who tried to say otherwise. She'd explored as far and long as she dared, and come to the conclusion that it could go on forever. It would be the perfect place to practice her needlework.
Which was a much more tantalizing idea than food, but she wanted to know what this brown substance on her bread was. It looked creamy, but there were bits and pieces in it that made her frown - but when she tried one, it tasted like a nut. Not like a pine nut, but something like it, and it was almost sweet. She ate a whole slice like that, but by the end her mouth felt as if it was sticking together. Resolving to try something that looked suspiciously like roast goat next time, Arya slipped out of the dining hall, her hand resting on Needle's hilt. She was still wary, sometimes, and she'd find herself doing it when she didn't mean to; then she'd remember what she'd learned at the House of Black and White, and force her hand away. She controlled her body, her hand was a tool, she would not be ruled by it.
Waiting for someone to let her in was a test of patience, but she had waited days at Harrenhal for just an hour in the godswood. She knew how to wait. once she was able to slip inside, she disappeared, light as a feather, swift as a deer, and left the kind warden who'd let her in behind. Silently, she walked through the woods, looking for the pale bark that would denote a weirwood, but she couldn't find one. Instead, she stopped at a big tree, three or four - maybe five - times as wide as she was. There was a branch low enough that she could grab it with a big jump, and she walked herself up the trunk. Another branch, and then another, until she found one steady and solid under her bare feet. They were callused, and up there, amid leaves and branches, she broke off a branch, wishing she still had Needle, and hacked and slashed at the air and any leaf that got in the way.
"Ser Gregor," she said to herself, twisting her arm in a jab that Syrio had taught her. "Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling." She pivoted gracefully, thinking light as a feather. "Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn." She Slashed, cut, and finally stabbed, where she knew the heart would sit in a woman grown. "Queen Cersei, valar morghulis!" She paused, breathing hard, arm still outstretched as she stared at the tree. What had once been a golden haired woman became the trunk again, and she let her arm drop, branch falling away when her hand opened.
As she started the climb down, she muttered the words Jaqen had taught her again. All men must die.
Special Notes: Teeniest of tiny edits: Arya has a huge problem with being grabbed. It's practically wired into her. Grab her from behind, grab her wrist, grab her arm, and she will lash out, usually violently and with a weapon if she has one.
Okay, hopefully she'll work out better as an inmate. I took a lot of the points you guys raised and tried to incorporate them, because they were definitely very good points, and they're certainly things I've been looking forward to playing out. So I'm hoping that, given this, her young age won't be an issue. I know in the explanation last time you said it might still be a concern given "how very young twelve is," and I want to take the opportunity to stress that in her world, she's less than a year away from being an adult (once girls hit puberty, they marry). I understand the age is still a concern, so I'm really just trying to make it clear that she isn't considered to be all that young where she comes from, that she's been put side by side with a girl her age (when she was ten or so) and been painted as an adult while the girl was still a little girl, and that I'm very much okay with playing out people reacting to Arya as a child.
User LJ:
rivinAIM/IM: FallenSun13
E-mail: redrobin133@gmail.com
Other Characters: T'Pol, Tim, Cooper, Olive
Character Name: Arya Stark
Series: A Song of Ice and Fire
Age: about 12. Truthfully, she lost track of her age when she had to run away from everything she knew at 9.
From When?: Near the end of Feast for Crows, after murdering Dareon and before returning to the House of Black and White.
Inmate/Warden: Warden. Arya has had a poor lot in life, and she's killed a lot of people - but most of them were either because she had no choice, or were in line with the laws of her world. Not to mention, she has five members of her family she's determined to make deals for.
Item: The iron coin Jaqen H'ghar gave her at Harrenhal.
Abilities/Powers: Arya has shown signs of being a warg, also known as a skinchanger, someone who can slip their skin and enter the minds of animals, controlling their actions. She's only done this with Nymeria, her lost wolf, and she isn't aware that they're anything more than dreams at this point. With work, she could theoretically become as adapt at it as her younger brother Bran, who was once able to slip into another human's mind, however briefly.
Beyond that, she has become extremely adept with a knife and sword. She's quick, quiet, and was taught to see - as in, beyond the surface of a situation. Once, Queen Cersei had King's Landing men dress as Winterfell men, hoping to catch her when she disappeared in the city. Most nine-year-olds would have run right into the trap, but thanks to her teaching from Syrio Forel, Arya saw it and was able to get away.
Personality: Arya has often been compared to her Aunt Lyanna, a woman who, in a way, started the war that most of the shit Arya has been through can be dated back to. Though she never met Lyanna, Arya is very much like her, though more in personality than appearance (though they are, apparently, similar on that level too). Lyanna was said to be fiery and willful and outspoken, and Arya has been like a miniature Lyanna all her life. Though her parents clearly wanted her to be a lady, she couldn't imagine anything more dull; ladies sew and dance and since, and Arya is good at absolutely none of those things. In her mind, needlework is sword practice (her sword is called Needle), and dancing is the waterdancing of Braavos, a style of sword fighting. She can be blunt, and frequently says what's on her mind. When her father told her that she could not be lord of a castle, but could be mother to lords and knights and princes, she shook her head and refused. That was not the life she wanted, one of dresses and real needles and children: she wants adventure and exploration and new things, and even if the Starks had not fallen and the War of the Five Kings had not happened, her parents would have been hard pressed to talk their willful daughter into marrying.
Born during a summer that lasted ten years (long by even her world's standards), Arya was a child of summer, and winter is coming. The Stark motto was never more apt in describing Arya's life. Her earliest years were spent happily, playing with her brothers and tormenting (and occasionally hating) her sister. It was a good, if cold environment, and she took to her bastard brother Jon Snow very early on. They were both of them a little different, just enough to stand apart from the others. They had the Stark coloring, while the rest of their siblings inherited Arya's mother's Tully coloring. Something so small frequently has a profound affect on children: Arya never felt like a redheaded stepchild, but she was always a little different. She hated sitting still and learning to sew, though her sister Sansa did so wonderfully. She wanted to be in the practice yards, to learn the sword with Robb and Jon and Bran. When it was clear that wasn't going to happen, she did everything she could to avoid all those things she'd have to learn to be a lady.
That was where one of her earliest aliases came from: Arya Underfoot.
Arya has always been a curious girl. She wants to know how something works and why, if it interests her, and she has a tendency to look into things herself, prefering a first hand experience. Harwin, one of Winterfell's sworn guards, took to calling her Underfoot, along with his father Hullen, the Master of Horse: she was frequently in the stables when avoiding Septa Mordane's lessons. Many things are worth learning, after all, but some things are just really, really stupid.
Identity in general is a very big deal with Arya. She's gone by many names in the last few years: her given name, Arya of House Stark, is something she had to abandon during the fall of the Starks in King's Landing. Before that, while still living at Winterfell, she was called Arya Underfoot, as above, and Arya Horseface - something her sister's friend Jeyne called her whenever she was being particularly annoying. She was Arry when she pretended to be a boy heading to the Wall, Weasel when she was captured by the Mountain, the Ghost of Harrenhal, responsible for several deaths in that burned and dreary place, Nymeria an Nan when she acted as Roose Bolton's cupbearer, Salty on her journey from Saltpans to Braavos, Cat when she wandered the alleys and causeways of Braavos' ports, and most importantly, no one when she entered the House of Black and White, and the guild of the Faceless Men. She's very bad at being no one, because under the lies and false names she is still Arya Stark, a Stark of Winterfell, and member of a once proud pack.
That's another thing that has kept her alive, the idea of having a pack. The sigil of House Stark is a direwolf, a giant species of wolf that has forever been tied to her family. Her father once taught her that when winter comes, the lone wolf dies while the pack survives. Though it's still autumn where she comes from, Arya's life has been in winter since the Starks fell at King's Landing. With her family scattered, then killed, she made her pack where she could: for a while, Hot Pie and Gendry and Lommy were good enough, but Lommy was killed, Hot Pie left them, and Gendry dissolved the pack completely when he chose to join Beric Dondarrion. She should have known not to make of them her pack: they weren't really wolves, not the way Starks are.
Letting her father's advice go has proven hard: she has been a wolf alone for many months, now, trying to be no one. She still aches for a pack, though she's found that if a lone wolf must die, no one can survive.
But Arya has always been very good at that: she's made do under terrible circumstances. When the Starks fell, she fled the Red Keep and survived in the most miserable part of King's Landing. She could have allowed herself to be taken captive and avoided much of the hardship she suffered, but it isn't in Arya to give in. When her safe ticket back home to Winterfell died in battle, she carried on with her substitute pack; when the Hound kidnapped her, she tolerated it because he was taking her to her mother. And when her mother and Robb died at the Red Wedding she found a way to carry on despite the hole in her heart. She has manage to take the absolute worst of every hand she's been dealt, and find a way to survive. She resourceful, and cunning, and observant: she does everything she needs to in order to survive, because she knows better than most that she can't control the people around her. Bad things happen, and they happen frequently, and all you can do is look and listen and look after yourself and your pack, for however long it's around.
And when it is around, she can be devoted. Arya will never be the type to fall over herself to help another, but when she cares for someone, she will protect them and move them toward safety to the best of her abilities. She frequently foun fault in traveling with Hot Pie and Gendry, and knew that she could make much better time, and be less likely to be spotted by others on the road without them, but despite considering abandoning them, she couldn't leave her pack until they'd left her. She knows what it is to protect your own - even though she never got on with Sansa, even though in many ways she hates her sister, Arya would defend her. She is pack, and nothing will change that. Arya also understands that sometimes protecting those you care about can hurt both of you. Before King Robert arrived in Winterfell, when all this began, her brothers found a litter of direwolf pups at their dead mother's teat. There were five, one for each Stark, and a sixth for Jon. Jon said they were meant to have them, that they were a sign from the old gods - but all Arya cared about was that she had a wolf pup that was all her own. All the children bonded with their wolves, but Arya was the first to lose hers. Nymeria was like Arya in too many ways to not believe that it was fated: but on the long trip south, when Nymeria defended her by biting Prince Joffrey, Arya knew that the king and queen would have her wolf killed. She did everything she could to save Nymeria: ultimately, she had to throw rocks, and struck the wolf twice before she ran. Arya has wolf dreams, sometimes, dreams that she is Nymeria, with a pack of southron wolves around her. She doesn't know they are true dreams, but they are her favorite.
Part of what allowed her to keep Hot Pie and Gendry safe was her wit, but even more so was the fact that she is as quick on her feet as she is to act. Shit has had a way of hitting the fan frequently in recent years, and Arya has survived it by thinking quickly and acting quicker. Staying a step ahead is out of the question for someone who can't control the people around her, but keeping apace is something she's more than familiar with. To escape the Red Keep, she did not run, which would have drawn the attention of the guards, but walked right out of the castle. She kept her head down and her eyes up. Later, she held a watch with her small pack, and did what she could to keep Hot Pie and Gendry from being found by the wrong people. Despite being the smallest, and the youngest, she was their leader: she could read, and she could guide, and she knew not to make a fire at night in the middle of the war ravaged riverlands. Arya is a very smart girl, and though she doesn't come off as a dominant personality, she takes to the role of leadership naturally.
And as far as natural things go, killing has become second nature to Arya. Ever since leaving King's Landing, she has whispered a prayer to herself every night before sleeping, whether she was camping on the road, living in Harrenhal, traveling through the riverlands, or becoming no one in Bravos: "Ser Gregor," it goes, "Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei." It used to be longer, and should be somewhat shorter, but there's no such thing as instant communication or obituaries in Westeros or the Free Cities. These are the people who have harmed her or those she cares about. Gregor took her and Hot Pie and Gendry captive, and allowed his men to commit atrocities to the small folk. Dunsen was one of those men, as was Raff. Ser Ilyn beheaded her father, Ser Meryn killed her waterdancing instructor Syrio, and Cersei was responsible for the fall of the Starks. Arya managed to kill several of the people who had been on her hit list herself, in addition to others who had the misfortune of trying to take her to the queen, or of standing guard the night she escaped from Harrenhal.
She has not regretted these murders. She's rejoiced in some of them. The Tickler was one of Gregor's men, and interrogator who would torture one prisoner in front of the rest, before killing them. Arya watched him work many, many times, and when she killed him she stabbed him as many times as the questions he would ask of those he 'tickled.' He terrified her: killing him was a balm.
Once, before she knew her mother was dead, she wondered what Lady Catelyn would think of her if she knew, and worried that her mother would not want her back for many reasons - murder amongst them. Beyond that, however, Arya has allowed revenge to become her prayer, her salve, her replacement for her pack. She believes the majority of her family to be dead, her pack dispersed; she has no place to go, and no family to turn to. All that is left is revenge for what she lost.
Path to Redemption: --
History: Arya's history, and summations of: A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, and A Feast for Crows.
Arya was born and grew up during the long summer, in a noble house: she was the second daughter of the Warden of the North, a Stark of Winterfell. She never put much stock in birth stature, however; Arya was always happy to play with high and lowborn alike. It didn't matter, as long as the game was fun. She spent the majority of her earliest years causing mischief and getting into trouble, and dashing again and again her parents' hopes that she'd one day be a proper lady. She rarely showed up for Septa Mordane's lessons on needlework: watching her brothers in the practice yards was far more entertaining. When Jon and Robb and Bran brought back their direwolf pups, it got even worse: Nymeria was the perfect accomplice, and training a direwolf was, of course, far more important than learning to stitch a straight line.
When the king showed up, and asked her father to be his Hand, she saw it as an opportunity for adventure. The journey south back to King's Landing would take months, and Nymeria would be with her. So would her sister Sansa, whom Arya never really got on with, but she could ignore that. Before they left, her bastard half-brother Jon had a small, thin sword made for her, and helped her name it Needle. A lady must know her needlework, after all.
Until Prince Joffrey, her sister's prideful and cruel betrothed-to-be, decided to torment Arya's low born friend Mycah for playing at swords with her. When the prince saw fit to draw his real sword where Arya and Mycah had been using sticks, Arya interceded, and Joffrey turned on her. That was when Nymeria attacked, mauling the prince's arm before Arya called her off, and ran.
She had to throw stones at Nymeria to get the wolf to leave. It was the hardest thing she'd had to do up until that point, but she knew that if Nymeria stayed, the king and queen would have her killed.
It worked; Nymeria was spared. but Queen Cersei proved cruel, and had Lady - Sansa'a direwolf - killed instead. And the Hound, Sandor Clegane, Joffrey's sworn man, rode Mycah down and killed him.
After that, nothing could convince her that King's Landing was a place of adventure. She wanted to go back home, but more than that, she wanted to go back to that area of the Trident, and find Nymeria again. She could do neither, though, and eventually found something to love in the capital of the Seven Kingdoms: Syrio Forel, the Braavosi waterdancing teacher her father found. It wasn't dancing he taught her, but needlework - and the way a warrior sees.
But all that came to an end, too; the Lannisters orchestrated the fall of the Starks. Arya saw Stark men killed, and when a stableboy threatened to bring her to the king, she killed him. It was his life or her freedom: she didn't even think about it. After that, she spent days in Flea Bottom, the poorest part of King's Landing, where most people thought she was a boy, and no one thought she was Arya of House Stark. Eventually, her father was brought forward in front of Baelor's Sept, and there he was beheaded for treason. Arya was there, though Yoren, a man of the Night's Watch, kept her from seeing the deed.
She started a long journey north, then, with a band of boys and prisoners, all being taken to the Wall to take the black. Yoren was going to leave her at Winterfell, before continuing on with the other boys to the Wall. Those plans fell through when they were attacked by Ser Armory Loch. Yoren died, and the boys and men who lived scattered. But Hot Pie, Lommy, and Gendry stayed. They became her pack while they traveled, and they traveled far. Until Lommy was killed when Ser Gregor, the Mountain that Rides, captured them. She watched the Mountain's man, who she knew only as the Tickler, torture and kill many people, always wondering if she'd be next.
Eventually they reached Harrenhal, the cursed castle, and Arya entered a life of servitude. She labored under Weese, until Jaqen H'Ghar showed up. He was one of three men she'd saved in the attack that killed Yoren - and he promised her three lives in return. She became the Ghost at Harrenhal, killing with a whisper: at her bidding, Jaqen killed Chiswyck, one of the Mountain's men, and Weese. When she realized her choices had been selfish and petty, in terms of the war that was raging across Westeros, she conned Jaqen into helping her free the northmen who had been taken prisoner. Roose Bolton took charge of the castle, rousting most of the Lannister men who remained, and Arya stayed on to act as his cupbearer. When she learned that the castle was to be left to the Brave Companions, a group of mercenaries who were renowned for their cruelty, she convinced Hot Pie and Gendry to escape with her. They traveled for a long time, heading for Riverrun, her mother's House, but they never got there: Hot Pie left them at an inn, and just as the Mountain had taken them prisoner, so did Beric Dondarrion, a man who had did six times, and been brought back to life.
He was a kinder captor than the Mountain, but he was still a captor. Arya tried to escape, but it proved harder this time, and it wasn't until the Hound kidnapped her that she had hope of ever getting to her family. She fought him bitterly, until he told her where he was taking her: the Crossing, where her mother and brother Robb would be, for her uncle's wedding.
It would become known as the Red Wedding: they arrived just in time to see the Freys turn on her brother's people and kill Robb, the King in the north.
After that, she was listless. She traveled with the Hound, often saying nothing, not knowing where to go or who would have her or who to be. As far as she knew, all her family was dead. Eventually, she and the Hound happened upon an inn, where she met the Tickler and Polliver, another of the Mountain's men, who had stolen Needle. There was a squire with them as well, and when a fight broke out, she killed him, and the Tickler, stabbing him repeatedly. She had Needle back and she had shaken off some of her depression: but the Hound had been badly wounded. She helped him at first, but when he begged the gift of mercy - of death - she recalled what he'd done to Mycah, and refused. She left him to die, and traveled on alone, to a harbor called Saltpans. There she bought passage on a ship to Braavos, the home of Syrio Forel and Jaqen H'Ghar, who had taught her so much.
There, she entered the House of Black and White, and became no one.
Sample Journal Entry: [Arya has never seen electronics before. It's officially at the top of her list of Must Be Magic things she's already seen on the Barge. Her room was number one until she found her device. Now she's busy trying to figure out what all the buttons are for. At least she can read and write, but there are buttons that aren't letters that she just doesn't get.
So, Barge, you're being subjected to the Arya method of making electronics work. It doesn't involve hitting the on button.
When the video finally clicks on, there's no sound, the screen is doing one of those constant rolls upward, before freezing in the middle, with the top of one frame at the bottom, and the bottom of the same frame at the top. It's a technical disaster. The image suddenly straightens out again, turns purple, and shakes hideously - she's banging it against the floor. That's when the audio clicks on.]
--and. Valar morghulis? Valar doeharis-- Stupid, things can't do magic on their own--
[She falls silent again, scowling, and suddenly the feed goes black. For a long time.
When the picture comes back, it's not purple, and it's relatively steadied, and Arya still doesn't know how to work it, but one good thump managed to hit the right buttons. She also has no idea how to aim it, so there is a super close up shot of the lower left side of her face. What you can tell is, she has a jaw! A small jaw. She's pretty young. But it's hard to tell if she's a girl or a boy; people have mistaken her for a boy loads of times, and her hair is at that in between point where it could really go either way.]
Is this how everyone talks to each other? Don't you use ravens, or-- [She's been moving about, and now the edge of a plain, practically medieval styled wooden door can be seen: she's looking out into the hall.] Does everyone live in this hall? Why don't you just walk to whoever you want to talk to?
...How is it lit? [Where are the torches. :|]
((OOC: Aaand here are a few extras from dear_mun, with spoilery elements: Here, two, and c.))
Sample RP: Here is one in the setting of the book, and here's one on the Barge:
Mealtimes were going to take getting used to. Where was the roasted aurochs? The trout wrapped in bacon? Arya had assumed that a place like this would have a kitchen worthy of Harrenhal, or at least of Acorn Hall, but there wasn't even simpler fare - no fruit tarts, no pease pudding, not even oatcakes or black pudding! There were pieces of the thinnest meat she'd ever seen pressed between slices of bread, or meals she didn't recognize at all. Breakfast was especially trying. There was something peculiarly like porridge, but it was dry: she watched as other people added milk, and when she did so herself she found it interesting but strange.
Dinner, at least, was a chance to experiment. Picking out any fish dish was almost automatic to her, after so many months in Braavos; they relied on fish there, and given how often she'd shouted 'mussels and cockles and clams,' it felt only fitting. But it was never baked in clay or wrapped in bacon or crusted in almonds, and she never could quite recognize all the flavors. It was almost as odd as realizing she didn't smell of fish anymore. Her hands smelled like soap, and not like lemon water, which had only masked the smell. She was clean, and liable to stay clean here. The only place to dirty herself she'd found had been the - what did they call it? The CES. That was magic, she didn't care who tried to say otherwise. She'd explored as far and long as she dared, and come to the conclusion that it could go on forever. It would be the perfect place to practice her needlework.
Which was a much more tantalizing idea than food, but she wanted to know what this brown substance on her bread was. It looked creamy, but there were bits and pieces in it that made her frown - but when she tried one, it tasted like a nut. Not like a pine nut, but something like it, and it was almost sweet. She ate a whole slice like that, but by the end her mouth felt as if it was sticking together. Resolving to try something that looked suspiciously like roast goat next time, Arya slipped out of the dining hall, her hand resting on Needle's hilt. She was still wary, sometimes, and she'd find herself doing it when she didn't mean to; then she'd remember what she'd learned at the House of Black and White, and force her hand away. She controlled her body, her hand was a tool, she would not be ruled by it.
Pressing Jaqen's coin into the lock on the door of the CES, Arya whispered "Valar morghulis" to herself, and pushed the door open. Silently, she walked through the woods, looking for the pale bark that would denote a weirwood, but she couldn't find one. Instead, she stopped at a big tree, three or four - maybe five - times as wide as she was. There was a branch low enough that she could grab it with a big jump, and she walked herself up the trunk. Another branch, and then another, until she found one steady and solid under her bare feet. They were callused, and up there, amid leaves and branches, she drew Needle, and hacked and slashed at the air and any leaf that got in the way.
"Ser Gregor," she said to herself, twisting her arm in a jab that Syrio had taught her. "Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling." She pivoted gracefully, thinking light as a feather. "Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn." She Slashed, cut, and finally stabbed, where she knew the heart would sit in a woman grown. "Queen Cersei, valar morghulis!" She paused, breathing hard, arm still outstretched as she stared at the tree. What had once been a golden haired woman became the trunk again, and she pulled Needle from the tree, shoving it back into her belt.
As she started the climb down, she muttered the words Jaqen had taught her again. All men must die.
Special Notes: So I know that Arya's age is the most immediate and glaring problem here, but I thought I'd leave a note to try and make her case a little more. I think the biggest problems with young characters, especially young wardens, is that there is the risk their inmate won't listen to/respect them, and the fact that occasionally characters go through some pretty tough scenarios. For the first problem, I think that this is an issue that many characters have: when you pair certain inmates with certain wardens, there's going to be a divide over IC philosophies no matter what, so I don't think she'd run into any situation where she couldn't gain respect over time, like a lot of wardens have to do with their inmates anyway. She is also the kind of character who would work well with a certain type of inmate, but one look at the pairing page shows that most characters work like that. I can already see a couple inmates would could feasibly work out well with her. We had a thirteen-year-old warden a while back - Cassie, from Push - and she was able to manage; arguably, Arya is more an adult, and more adept at dealing with the hardships she's faced than Cassie was. As to the second concern, Arya at age twelve is already more capable than a several wardens we've had. As far as my own go, I know Arya will handle awful situations a thousand times more capably than Olive. In a few ways, she could even deal with things better than Tim, because she's been through so much. We've had Rapunzel and Giselle in the past, and as I understand it, they were able to function on the Barge - and they are far, far more innocent than Arya. She's killed, she's been in the company of murderers and thieves, of people who have threatened to hurt and rape and kill her, and she's managed to get by without it destroying her. There's also the fact that she comes from a medieval setting, where children aren't really children after, oh, age seven-ish. At twelve, had things not gone to hell in her life, she'd be looking at a betrothal and a marriage within a couple years, and she'd be having kids of her own in five. To all intents and purposes in her world, Arya isn't a child, and that fact that she'd be treated as one here would be interesting, for me, to play through, since she is - as her canon shows - more than capable of handling herself without help.
User Name/Nick: Ari
User LJ:
rivinAIM/IM: FallenSun13
E-mail: redrobin133@gmail.com
Other Characters: T'Pol, Tim, Cooper, Olive
Character Name: Arya Stark
Series: A Song of Ice and Fire
Age: about 12. Truthfully, she lost track of her age when she had to run away from everything she knew at 9.
From When?: Near the end of Feast for Crows, after murdering Dareon and returning to the House of Black and White. I'm going to say the milk she drank killed her instead of made her blind.
Inmate/Warden: Inmate. Arya is a good person at her core, but circumstance has forced her to do terrible things, and she's adapted: revenge is all she wants at this point. Age is a non-issue for her: Arya's world is one of adults. Children have responsibilities beyond schooling when they're anywhere between seven and ten; Arya left her childhood behind when she left Winterfell at nine and lost Nymeria. She doesn't have much patience for children herself, either.
Item: --
Abilities/Powers: Arya has shown signs of being a warg, also known as a skinchanger, someone who can slip their skin and enter the minds of animals, controlling their actions. She's only done this with Nymeria, her lost wolf, and she isn't aware that they're anything more than dreams at this point. With work, she could theoretically become as adapt at it as her younger brother Bran, who was once able to slip into another human's mind, however briefly.
Beyond that, she has become extremely adept with a knife and sword. She's quick, quiet, and was taught to see - as in, beyond the surface of a situation. Once, Queen Cersei had King's Landing men dress as Winterfell men, hoping to catch her when she disappeared in the city. Most nine-year-olds would have run right into the trap, but thanks to her teaching from Syrio Forel, Arya saw it and was able to get away.
Personality: Arya has often been compared to her Aunt Lyanna, a woman who, in a way, started the war that most of the shit Arya has been through can be dated back to. Though she never met Lyanna, Arya is very much like her, though more in personality than appearance (though they are, apparently, similar on that level too). Lyanna was said to be fiery and willful and outspoken, and Arya has been like a miniature Lyanna all her life. Though her parents clearly wanted her to be a lady, she couldn't imagine anything more dull; ladies sew and dance and sing, and Arya is good at absolutely none of those things. In her mind, needlework is sword practice (her sword is called Needle), and dancing is the waterdancing of Braavos, a style of sword fighting. She can be blunt, and frequently says what's on her mind. When her father told her that she could not be lord of a castle, but could be mother to lords and knights and princes, she shook her head and refused. That was not the life she wanted, one of dresses and real needles and children: she wants adventure and exploration and new things, and even if the Starks had not fallen and the War of the Five Kings had not happened, her parents would have been hard pressed to talk their willful daughter into marrying.
Born during a summer that lasted ten years (long even by her world's standards), Arya was a child of summer - and winter is coming. The Stark words were never more apt in describing Arya's life. Her earliest years were spent happily, playing with her brothers and tormenting (and occasionally hating) her sister. It was a good, if cold environment, and she took to her bastard brother Jon Snow very early on. They were both of them a little different, just enough to stand apart from the others. They had the Stark coloring, while the rest of their siblings inherited Arya's mother's Tully looks. Something so small frequently has a profound affect on children: Arya never felt like a redheaded stepchild, but she was always a little different. She hated sitting still and learning to sew, though her sister Sansa did so wonderfully. She wanted to be in the practice yards, to learn the sword with Robb and Jon and Bran. When it was clear that wasn't going to happen, she did everything she could to avoid all those things she'd have to learn to be a lady.
That was where one of her earliest aliases came from: Arya Underfoot.
Arya has always been a curious girl. She wants to know how something works and why, if it interests her, and she has a tendency to look into things herself, preferring a first hand experience. Harwin, one of Winterfell's sworn guards, took to calling her Underfoot, along with his father Hullen, the Master of Horse: she was frequently in the stables when avoiding Septa Mordane's lessons. Many things are worth learning, after all, but some things are just really, really stupid.
Identity in general is a very big deal with Arya. She's gone by many names in the last few years: her given name, Arya of House Stark, is something she had to abandon during the fall of the Starks in King's Landing. Before that, while still living at Winterfell, she was called Arya Underfoot, as above, and Arya Horseface - something her sister's friend Jeyne called her whenever she was being particularly annoying. She was Arry when she pretended to be a boy heading to the Wall, Weasel when she was captured by the Mountain, the Ghost of Harrenhal, responsible for several deaths in that burned and dreary place, Nymeria an Nan when she acted as Roose Bolton's cupbearer, Salty on her journey from Saltpans to Braavos, Cat when she wandered the alleys and causeways of Braavos' ports, and most importantly, no one when she entered the House of Black and White, and the guild of the Faceless Men. She's very bad at being no one, because under the lies and false names she is still Arya Stark, a Stark of Winterfell, and member of a once proud pack.
That's another thing that has kept her alive, the idea of having a pack. The sigil of House Stark is a direwolf, a giant species of wolf that has forever been tied to her family. Her father once taught her that when winter comes, the lone wolf dies while the pack survives. Though it's still autumn where she comes from, Arya's life has been in winter since the Starks fell at King's Landing. With her family scattered, then killed, she made her pack where she could: for a while, Hot Pie and Gendry and Lommy were good enough, but Lommy was killed, Hot Pie left them, and Gendry dissolved the pack completely when he chose to join Beric Dondarrion. She should have known not to make of them her pack: they weren't really wolves, not the way Starks are.
Letting her father's advice go has proven hard: she has been a wolf alone for many months, now, trying to be no one. She still aches for a pack, though she's found that if a lone wolf must die, no one can survive. She's had to let go a lot of her father's ideals to do that.
But Arya has always been very good at that: she's made do under terrible circumstances. When the Starks fell, she fled the Red Keep and survived in the most miserable part of King's Landing. She could have allowed herself to be taken captive and avoided much of the hardship she suffered, but it isn't in Arya to give in. When her safe ticket back home to Winterfell died in battle, she carried on with her substitute pack; when the Hound kidnapped her, she tolerated it because he was taking her to her mother. And when her mother and Robb died at the Red Wedding she found a way to carry on despite the hole in her heart. She has manage to take the absolute worst of every hand she's been dealt, and find a way to survive. She resourceful, and cunning, and observant: she does everything she needs to in order to survive, because she knows better than most that she can't control the people around her. Bad things happen, and they happen frequently, and all you can do is look and listen and look after yourself and your pack, for however long it's around.
And when it is around, she can be devoted. Arya will never be the type to fall over herself to help another, but when she cares for someone, she will protect them and move them toward safety to the best of her abilities. She frequently found fault in traveling with Hot Pie and Gendry, and knew that she could make much better time, and be less likely to be spotted by others on the road without them, but despite considering abandoning them, she couldn't leave her pack until they'd left her. She knows what it is to protect your own - even though she never got on with Sansa, even though in many ways she hates her sister, Arya would defend her. She is pack, and nothing will change that. Arya also understands that sometimes protecting those you care about can hurt both of you. Before King Robert arrived in Winterfell, when all this began, her brothers found a litter of direwolf pups at their dead mother's teat. There were five, one for each Stark, and a sixth for Jon. Jon said they were meant to have them, that they were a sign from the old gods - but all Arya cared about was that she had a wolf pup that was all her own. All the children bonded with their wolves, but Arya was the first to lose hers. Nymeria was like Arya in too many ways to not believe that it was fated: but on the long trip south, when Nymeria defended her by biting Prince Joffrey, Arya knew that the king and queen would have her wolf killed. She did everything she could to save Nymeria: ultimately, she had to throw rocks, and struck the wolf twice before she ran. Arya has wolf dreams, sometimes, dreams that she is Nymeria, with a pack of southron wolves around her. She doesn't know they are true dreams, but they are her favorite.
Part of what allowed her to keep Hot Pie and Gendry safe was her wit, but even more so was the fact that she is as quick on her feet as she is to act. Shit has had a way of hitting the fan frequently in recent years, and Arya has survived it by thinking quickly and acting quicker. Staying a step ahead is out of the question for someone who can't control the people around her, but keeping apace is something she's more than familiar with. To escape the Red Keep, she did not run, which would have drawn the attention of the guards, but walked right out of the castle. She kept her head down and her eyes up. Later, she held a watch with her small pack, and did what she could to keep Hot Pie and Gendry from being found by the wrong people. Despite being the smallest, and the youngest, she was their leader: she could read, and she could guide, and she knew not to make a fire at night in the middle of the war ravaged riverlands. Arya is a very smart girl, and though she doesn't come off as a dominant personality, she takes to the role of leadership naturally.
And as far as natural things go, killing has become second nature to Arya. Ever since leaving King's Landing, she has whispered a prayer to herself every night before sleeping, whether she was camping on the road, living in Harrenhal, traveling through the riverlands, or becoming no one in Bravos: "Ser Gregor," it goes, "Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, Queen Cersei." It used to be longer, and should be somewhat shorter, but there's no such thing as instant communication or obituaries in Westeros or the Free Cities. These are the people who have harmed her or those she cares about. Gregor took her and Hot Pie and Gendry captive, and allowed his men to commit atrocities to the small folk. Dunsen was one of those men, as was Raff. Ser Ilyn beheaded her father, Ser Meryn killed her waterdancing instructor Syrio, and Cersei was responsible for the fall of the Starks. Arya managed to kill several of the people who had been on her hit list herself, in addition to others who had the misfortune of trying to take her to the queen, or of standing guard the night she escaped from Harrenhal.
She has not regretted these murders. She's rejoiced in some of them. The Tickler was one of Gregor's men, and interrogator who would torture one prisoner in front of the rest, before killing them. Arya watched him work many, many times, and when she killed him she stabbed him as many times as the questions he would ask of those he 'tickled.' He terrified her: killing him was a balm.
Once, before she knew her mother was dead, she wondered what Lady Catelyn would think of her if she knew, and worried that her mother would not want her back for many reasons - murder amongst them. Beyond that, however, Arya has allowed revenge to become her prayer, her salve, her replacement for her pack. She believes the majority of her family to be dead, her pack dispersed; she has no place to go, and no family to turn to. All that is left is revenge for what she lost.
Path to Redemption: Arya needs to be shown that revenge is not a replacement for justice. The best way to do this would probably be through her father: Ned Stark was a man who stood by the law, who was in every way an upright citizen. He killed people, too: in war, or as punishment for dereliction of duty. That was justice, in her world: what Arya has done, what Arya has made her focus in life, is not justice. She's joining a group of assassins in order to have revenge, not justice. What she needs to learn is that justice can be just as good as revenge. The difficulty in this will be that attempting to keep justice got her father killed. She needs to let go of her desire for revenge, which will be difficult: she thinks her family is dead or unattainable, and revenge has replaced mourning. That should be relatively easy to deal with: just get her proof.
She'll also be inclined to form a pack, eventually: a group of people she will come to trust. This is both good and bad for her: they'll become her family in a way. She'll know it's a poor substitute, most likely, unless they become incredibly close, but she'll be extremely protective of these people. If any harm comes to them, she is very likely to go after whoever hurt them. This can definitely be used to a warden's advantage: if that situation arises, talking her out of exacting revenge will be monumental. Be careful, though - she will very likely lie, if she believes that to be useful.
Lying is also something to watch out for: she doesn't have to stop lying to achieve redemption, but she will use it against any warden she doesn't trust - and possibly even those she does. Treating her like a child will just facilitate this: she will take advantage of those who treat her like a little girl, and likely not respect them very much, unless they prove themselves some other way. By the rules of her world, she is almost a woman grown, so being treated like a child in the modern world would be bizarre to her.
History: Arya's history, and summations of: A Game of Thrones, A Clash of Kings, A Storm of Swords, and A Feast for Crows.
Arya was born and grew up during the long summer, in a noble house: she was the second daughter of the Warden of the North, a Stark of Winterfell. She never put much stock in birth stature, however; Arya was always happy to play with high and lowborn alike. It didn't matter, as long as the game was fun. She spent the majority of her earliest years causing mischief and getting into trouble, and dashing again and again her parents' hopes that she'd one day be a proper lady. She rarely showed up for Septa Mordane's lessons on needlework: watching her brothers in the practice yards was far more entertaining. When Jon and Robb and Bran brought back their direwolf pups, it got even worse: Nymeria was the perfect accomplice, and training a direwolf was, of course, far more important than learning to stitch a straight line.
When the king showed up, and asked her father to be his Hand, she saw it as an opportunity for adventure. The journey south back to King's Landing would take months, and Nymeria would be with her. So would her sister Sansa, whom Arya never really got on with, but she could ignore that. Before they left, her bastard half-brother Jon had a small, thin sword made for her, and helped her name it Needle. A lady must know her needlework, after all.
Until Prince Joffrey, her sister's prideful and cruel betrothed-to-be, decided to torment Arya's low born friend Mycah for playing at swords with her. When the prince saw fit to draw his real sword where Arya and Mycah had been using sticks, Arya interceded, and Joffrey turned on her. That was when Nymeria attacked, mauling the prince's arm before Arya called her off, and ran.
She had to throw stones at Nymeria to get the wolf to leave. It was the hardest thing she'd had to do up until that point, but she knew that if Nymeria stayed, the king and queen would have her killed.
It worked; Nymeria was spared. but Queen Cersei proved cruel, and had Lady - Sansa'a direwolf - killed instead. And the Hound, Sandor Clegane, Joffrey's sworn man, rode Mycah down and killed him.
After that, nothing could convince her that King's Landing was a place of adventure. She wanted to go back home, but more than that, she wanted to go back to that area of the Trident, and find Nymeria again. She could do neither, though, and eventually found something to love in the capital of the Seven Kingdoms: Syrio Forel, the Braavosi waterdancing teacher her father found. It wasn't dancing he taught her, but needlework - and the way a warrior sees.
But all that came to an end, too; the Lannisters orchestrated the fall of the Starks. Arya saw Stark men killed, and when a stableboy threatened to bring her to the king, she killed him. It was his life or her freedom: she didn't even think about it. After that, she spent days in Flea Bottom, the poorest part of King's Landing, where most people thought she was a boy, and no one thought she was Arya of House Stark. Eventually, her father was brought forward in front of Baelor's Sept, and there he was beheaded for treason. Arya was there, though Yoren, a man of the Night's Watch, kept her from seeing the deed.
She started a long journey north, then, with a band of boys and prisoners, all being taken to the Wall to take the black. Yoren was going to leave her at Winterfell, before continuing on with the other boys to the Wall. Those plans fell through when they were attacked by Ser Armory Loch. Yoren died, and the boys and men who lived scattered. But Hot Pie, Lommy, and Gendry stayed. They became her pack while they traveled, and they traveled far. Until Lommy was killed when Ser Gregor, the Mountain that Rides, captured them. She watched the Mountain's man, who she knew only as the Tickler, torture and kill many people, always wondering if she'd be next.
Eventually they reached Harrenhal, the cursed castle, and Arya entered a life of servitude. She labored under Weese, until Jaqen H'Ghar showed up. He was one of three men she'd saved in the attack that killed Yoren - and he promised her three lives in return. She became the Ghost at Harrenhal, killing with a whisper: at her bidding, Jaqen killed Chiswyck, one of the Mountain's men, and Weese. When she realized her choices had been selfish and petty, in terms of the war that was raging across Westeros, she conned Jaqen into helping her free the northmen who had been taken prisoner. Roose Bolton took charge of the castle, rousting most of the Lannister men who remained, and Arya stayed on to act as his cupbearer. When she learned that the castle was to be left to the Brave Companions, a group of mercenaries who were renowned for their cruelty, she convinced Hot Pie and Gendry to escape with her. They traveled for a long time, heading for Riverrun, her mother's House, but they never got there: Hot Pie left them at an inn, and just as the Mountain had taken them prisoner, so did Beric Dondarrion, a man who had did six times, and been brought back to life.
He was a kinder captor than the Mountain, but he was still a captor. Arya tried to escape, but it proved harder this time, and it wasn't until the Hound kidnapped her that she had hope of ever getting to her family. She fought him bitterly, until he told her where he was taking her: the Crossing, where her mother and brother Robb would be, for her uncle's wedding.
It would become known as the Red Wedding: they arrived just in time to see the Freys turn on her brother's people and kill Robb, the King in the north.
After that, she was listless. She traveled with the Hound, often saying nothing, not knowing where to go or who would have her or who to be. As far as she knew, all her family was dead. She met a little girl along the way who had taken to following her around one of the villages they stayed at. Arya couldn't understand how very childish the girl was, though they were of an age. She had no patience for her tag-along, and eventually tore the head off her soldier doll to make her go away. The girl missed the point; Arya wasn't even aware she was making it. She knew more about the real world than most children ever would. Eventually, she and the Hound happened upon an inn, where she met the Tickler and Polliver, another of the Mountain's men, who had stolen Needle. There was a squire with them as well, and when a fight broke out, she killed him, and the Tickler, stabbing him repeatedly. She had Needle back and she had shaken off some of her depression: but the Hound had been badly wounded. She helped him at first, but when he begged the gift of mercy - of death - she recalled what he'd done to Mycah, and refused. She left him to die, and traveled on alone, to a harbor called Saltpans. There she bought passage on a ship to Braavos, the home of Syrio Forel and Jaqen H'Ghar, who had taught her so much.
There, she entered the House of Black and White, and became no one.
Sample Journal Entry: [Arya has never seen electronics before. It's officially at the top of her list of Must Be Magic things she's already seen on the Barge. Her room was number one until she found her device. Now she's busy trying to figure out what all the buttons are for. At least she can read and write, but there are buttons that aren't letters that she just doesn't get.
So, Barge, you're being subjected to the Arya method of making electronics work. It doesn't involve hitting the on button.
When the video finally clicks on, there's no sound, the screen is doing one of those constant rolls upward, before freezing in the middle, with the top of one frame at the bottom, and the bottom of the same frame at the top. It's a technical disaster. The image suddenly straightens out again, turns purple, and shakes hideously - she's banging it against the floor. That's when the audio clicks on.]
--and. Valar morghulis? Valar doeharis-- Stupid, things can't do magic on their own--
[She falls silent again, scowling, and suddenly the feed goes black. For a long time.
When the picture comes back, it's not purple, and it's relatively steadied, and Arya still doesn't know how to work it, but one good thump managed to hit the right buttons. She also has no idea how to aim it, so there is a super close up shot of the lower left side of her face. What you can tell is, she has a jaw! A small jaw. She's pretty young. But it's hard to tell if she's a girl or a boy; people have mistaken her for a boy loads of times, and her hair is at that in between point where it could really go either way.]
Is this how everyone talks to each other? Don't you use ravens, or-- [She's been moving about, and now the edge of a plain, practically medieval styled wooden door can be seen: she's looking out into the hall.] Does everyone live in this hall? Why don't you just walk to whoever you want to talk to? How is it lit? [Where are the torches. :|]
[She draws another breath, about to ask how she got here and what this place is, but she doesn't see anyone else wandering around confused. Everyone else seems to know. So it's time to play it cool as she looks around.] Where do these stairs go?
((OOC: Aaand here are a few extras from dear_mun, with spoilery elements: Here, two, and c. And here's one from another game that illustrates how she uses her appearance to get information.))
Sample RP: Here is one in the setting of the book, and here's one on the Barge:
Mealtimes were going to take getting used to. Where was the roasted aurochs? The trout wrapped in bacon? Arya had assumed that a place like this would have a kitchen worthy of Harrenhal, or at least of Acorn Hall, but there wasn't even simpler fare - no fruit tarts, no pease pudding, not even oatcakes or black pudding! There were pieces of the thinnest meat she'd ever seen pressed between slices of bread, or meals she didn't recognize at all. Breakfast was especially trying. There was something peculiarly like porridge, but it was dry: she watched as other people added milk, and when she did so herself she found it interesting but strange.
Dinner, at least, was a chance to experiment. Picking out any fish dish was almost automatic to her, after so many months in Braavos; they relied on fish there, and given how often she'd shouted 'mussels and cockles and clams,' it felt only fitting. But it was never baked in clay or wrapped in bacon or crusted in almonds, and she never could quite recognize all the flavors. It was almost as odd as realizing she didn't smell of fish anymore. Her hands smelled like soap, and not like lemon water, which had only masked the smell. She was clean, and liable to stay clean here. The only place to dirty herself she'd found had been the - what did they call it? The CES. That was magic, she didn't care who tried to say otherwise. She'd explored as far and long as she dared, and come to the conclusion that it could go on forever. It would be the perfect place to practice her needlework.
Which was a much more tantalizing idea than food, but she wanted to know what this brown substance on her bread was. It looked creamy, but there were bits and pieces in it that made her frown - but when she tried one, it tasted like a nut. Not like a pine nut, but something like it, and it was almost sweet. She ate a whole slice like that, but by the end her mouth felt as if it was sticking together. Resolving to try something that looked suspiciously like roast goat next time, Arya slipped out of the dining hall, her hand resting on Needle's hilt. She was still wary, sometimes, and she'd find herself doing it when she didn't mean to; then she'd remember what she'd learned at the House of Black and White, and force her hand away. She controlled her body, her hand was a tool, she would not be ruled by it.
Waiting for someone to let her in was a test of patience, but she had waited days at Harrenhal for just an hour in the godswood. She knew how to wait. once she was able to slip inside, she disappeared, light as a feather, swift as a deer, and left the kind warden who'd let her in behind. Silently, she walked through the woods, looking for the pale bark that would denote a weirwood, but she couldn't find one. Instead, she stopped at a big tree, three or four - maybe five - times as wide as she was. There was a branch low enough that she could grab it with a big jump, and she walked herself up the trunk. Another branch, and then another, until she found one steady and solid under her bare feet. They were callused, and up there, amid leaves and branches, she broke off a branch, wishing she still had Needle, and hacked and slashed at the air and any leaf that got in the way.
"Ser Gregor," she said to herself, twisting her arm in a jab that Syrio had taught her. "Dunsen, Raff the Sweetling." She pivoted gracefully, thinking light as a feather. "Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn." She Slashed, cut, and finally stabbed, where she knew the heart would sit in a woman grown. "Queen Cersei, valar morghulis!" She paused, breathing hard, arm still outstretched as she stared at the tree. What had once been a golden haired woman became the trunk again, and she let her arm drop, branch falling away when her hand opened.
As she started the climb down, she muttered the words Jaqen had taught her again. All men must die.
Special Notes: Teeniest of tiny edits: Arya has a huge problem with being grabbed. It's practically wired into her. Grab her from behind, grab her wrist, grab her arm, and she will lash out, usually violently and with a weapon if she has one.
Okay, hopefully she'll work out better as an inmate. I took a lot of the points you guys raised and tried to incorporate them, because they were definitely very good points, and they're certainly things I've been looking forward to playing out. So I'm hoping that, given this, her young age won't be an issue. I know in the explanation last time you said it might still be a concern given "how very young twelve is," and I want to take the opportunity to stress that in her world, she's less than a year away from being an adult (once girls hit puberty, they marry). I understand the age is still a concern, so I'm really just trying to make it clear that she isn't considered to be all that young where she comes from, that she's been put side by side with a girl her age (when she was ten or so) and been painted as an adult while the girl was still a little girl, and that I'm very much okay with playing out people reacting to Arya as a child.