❈ | 029 | Video

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[When the video comes on, the view is skewed: if you look long enough, it may seem like you're looking at a small section of a blanket, possibly on a bed, and a fold of cloth to one sight. Up comes the camera after a moment and an in drawn breath, and the fold of cloth is one skinny leg, the blanket tucked on a bad. Only then does she turn the device around so she's visible.]

I'm-- [Arya Stark, she almost says, but she's afraid to. Last time there was Tyrion; last time there was Tywin. Better they should think she's dead. But there are people who she wants to know she's alive. She chews her lip a moment, and decides to forgo names all together.]

I'm looking for anyone from Westeros.

Comments

[therearenomenlikeme]

Finish the sentence. You're Arya Stark.

Arya Stark with a rather alarming haircut.

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[no no no no no no

Her throat tightens, and she wants to say I'm no one, or a man is wrong. But she's not Beth, she's not Cat, she's not no one. She bites the inside of her cheek until she tastes blood, expression settling in a scowl.]

And you're the Kingslayer.

[therearenomenlikeme]

Does just the one king honestly make you a slayer of them? I have to wonder.


So where's the rest of the Stark clan, then? Still up north, fighting off little more than fleas and frost?

[morewine]

And much of Westeros has been looking for you.

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[She still says her prayer at night, still thinks the names and moves her lips.

Queen Cersei. Valar Morghulis.]

Why, am I lost?

[ladysarmor]

[Alayne recognizes Sansa's sister immediately. She just doesn't know if she can believe her eyes. Even at her worst, Arya never looked this unladylike. And her sister's clearly aged too, though considering how long it's been, that much isn't a surprise. Then again, she hadn't even been sure her sister was still alive.

Then again, she can hardly throw stones. With her hair dyed brown (shhh yes really ignore the icons) and the way she's grown into a woman lately... she's hardly the girl she was. Sansa wasn't a bastard, for one thing. Alayne is.

She hesitates before speaking, not sure what to say, not sure if she should even try to say anything. But at this point, she really should.

She wonders if Arya will even remember her.]

I am from Westeros.

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[Arya remembers her too well.

She remembers a red hair girl who sang stupid songs and sewed stupid things. She remmebers a red haired girl who whispered behind her hands with Jeyne Pool, a girl who dreamed of princes and kings and the south, who wanted to be a lady like their mother, who had a wolf--

She remembers, and Arya feels her mouth open, feels her throat work and her tongue lay still without words. She doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know what to do. She she lets the first thing that comes to mind tumble out.]

Your hair is brown.

[northernking]

You are in the Northern lands of Westeros, boy. Throw a stone and I'm certain you'll find one.

[A voice replies as if distracted. He isn't focused on the video and his reply is gruff and humorless. He has yet to note the appearance of a face and images within the flames of a small hearth in his tent. She had video, he had-- to rely it seemed on stranger means.

The King in the North sits at a makeshift table reviewing maps. He does not even bother to look up to the open flap (though there is no one to be seen.)]

Did no one teach you how to address highborns? I have not the time for games or teachings, off with you.

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[She sees him immediately. She sees and goes very still, forgets to breathe. There are Lannisters here, and them she's not afraid of, them she can snap at and snarl from afar. There's a girl who used to be her sister, and that is hard; this is hardest.

She sees him, but in her mind she is back in port. She sees his head on his shoulders, but she also sees Grey Wind's. And it's not fair, it's not fair that he doesn't know her, though she always suspected they wouldn't recognize her. She feels something bubble in her chest, but before she can decide if it's a sob or a laugh, she shoves it back, beats it down.

Her voice is still very small when she speaks; she's so afraid she'll blink, and find him as he was in Silent Hill.]

Robb? [The King in the North is her brother, and she's never given a damn about titles.]

[pigtailsbutterflyknives]

I don't even know where or what Westeros is.

[Yo, bro. How's it goin'?]

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[Oh hey it's you bro] It's a country. It's the country I'm from.

[Private]

[mistconduct]

Jesus fuck. This fucking day.


...Jesus, are you talking to fucking Hit Girl?

[Private]

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

Mindy? She's my friend. [This is like the third or fourth time they've chatted like this bro.]

[catelynstark]

[Catelyn knows not how she's come to see her daughter's face in the flames, but if this is trickery, it doesn't matter. All thoughts of caution flee as she kneels by the fire, almost close enough to burn.]

Arya. [She practically breathes her name, her voice filled with wonder, relief, guilt. In her darkest moments, she has allowed despair to overwhelm her, to indulge the most treacherous thoughts that could fill a mother's mind instead of pushing them away.

She has dreams where she sees her daughter again. If this is one of them, then she will gladly welcome it.]

Gods, you've grown.

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[No. This isn't fair. Her eyes widen, almost painfully, but she can't look away. In Silent Hill, she'd thrown herself at her mother, held her tight, only to find it was a shade of the lady Stark, bloated and water logged. The hole in her chest constricts and swells, and it's not supposed to hurt anymore, but it does.]

Mother? [Her voice is small, afraid to voice it out loud, afraid to make it not true.]

here's the icing on that angst cake

[ex_winterfelt941]

( he knows that face, of course. whatever haircut she might wear and whatever face she might deem to put on, eddard stark will always know his sons and daughters.

and this is arya, his wild child, his daughter. )

Arya.

you are all slaying me, jsyk

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[Knows it as well as she knows his. The last time she saw it was in Silent Hill, and it was rotting. It takes everything, at this point, to keep herself from crying. She's not a baby. She's not a baby. She isn't going to cry.

It's so hard.]

Father-- [She can't say you're dead, can't tell him that if he doesn't know. All she can do is bow her head to make sure there are no tears, to take a shaky breath.]

I wish you were here.

Private;

[ukan]

[There isn't a single conversation that isn't sad.]

It might be good if the pack sleeps together tonight.

[He hasn't ever showed her how safe that feels, how deep the belonging is, but he figures she might need to feel something like that.]

Private;

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

[This is horribly accurate.]

Okay. [Her voice is much too high, and she's still trying so hard not to cry. She's seen her old pack, now - and three of four of them she knows are dead. All she wants is to cling to the one she has, now.]

idek am i doing this right

[pimping]

A wolf pup with sea legs. Such a curious sight.

YEP C:

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

Wolves can swim. [Un. Sure.] Can you?

[private]

[yeahscience]

[There's no way Jesse's going to interrupt Arya talking to her mom and dad, but God, it hurts to watch her react the way she does. He switches off after a few minutes, figuring to give her some privacy, but a little while later he calls her up.]

You okay?

[private]

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

Yes. [Not really, though, and she shakes her head instead of admitting it out loud.] I'm going to stay with the pack tonight. [She doesn't even pause before looking up at him.] Will you come?

[scentbombed]

Oh, hello. How's Nymeria?

[fearcutsdeeperthanswords]

Angua. [She remembers best the people who have wolf in them. Swiveling the camera, she shows the Direwolf, laying stretched out on the other side of the small room. She's huge, now.]

She's good. I think she's almost full grown.