fearcutsdeeperthanswords | ❈ | 029

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❈ | 029 | Video

[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.

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[And Lark is surprised, disturbed even, to realize that when he hears tears in her voice he wants to rush out and find her. He's used to being around packmates with tragic, unspeakable pasts...at home he had never been personally invested in them. He hadn't really thought he was still capable.

But he cares, now. And he flounders for once, for something to say to explain himself.]

If we ever end up in Westeros, I can help you dispose of bodies.

I don't want to dispose of them. [She swallows, and her voice goes harder, with that wild thing in her that has nothing to do with being a werewolf, and everything to do with coming so close to being reunited, only to have it ripped away.]

I want everyone to see what happens to people who play with thrones.

[This pretty much epitomizes why he changed her and thus made her the other alpha.]

If I can help, I will. Just ask.

I know you will. [She gets it more than ever, what being a pack can really be. She's finally, if slowly, moving away from thinking her father was wrong.]

Should I look out for any of them, if they get pulled on board?

[She hesitates, because secrets are heard to break - but she's admitted her name, how can she not admit her family?]

The girl. With - with the brown hair, but it's supposed to be red. She's my sister. And-- [She links Robb, her mother, and her father, because it's easier to just point them out.] Them too. They're - they don't know they're dead. [She makes herself say it, forces the words out.]

But if the woman with gold hair comes, don't talk to her. Tell me right away. And don't let anyone tell her I'm here.

No reason to tell them they are. [Lark has already decided that should anyone he knows turn up, he won't let them know they've died. It seems cruel to tell the truth.]

Will she be asking about you?

Probably not. But just in case. If she doesn't know I'm here, she won't know who killed her.

If she does find out, you can handle her?

[It goes without saying that if the answer is anything but a truthful 'yes', Lark will probably kill this woman himself if she shows up.]

Yes. [It does go without saying, and that's why there's practically a growl in her voice: he better not take this from her. It all comes back to Cersei, and she wants her revenge. She didn't get it with Joffrey, and she can't bear the idea of someone else taking all of it from her.]

[He knows that tone. It should be a surprise to hear it from someone so young, but by now it's not. This is Arya, the pack leader as much as he is. If she couldn't be this strong, he would never have taken her in.]

All right. Then I'll keep watch and let you know. She's yours.

Good. [She almost leaves it at that, but she pauses and adds,] Tyrion wants to kill her too. Don't let him get there first. [Her quarrel with him is minimal at best, now, but she's still not willing to give him first shot just because she's his blood.]

I won't. [But that brings up a subject he has avoided for her sake.] Tell me about Tyrion.

He's a Lannister. [But that...isn't entirely fair, not anymore, and she looks away, uncomfortable and annoyed that it isn't black and white.]

He's her brother. He's annoying, and he doesn't know when the shut up, but he's - [hnnn] - he's all right.

...He's not an enemy, then?

[Lark understands shades of gray (he lives off of them), but some things need clear labels. The pack needs clear labels, for those times when control is hard to manage.]

He's not an enemy, [she can affirm that, at least.]

Not anymore.

[He nods, tempted to point out the way she bristles--but then she bristles with almost everyone, anyway. And it's her business. He knows what he needs to know, for now.]

All right.

Jesse's coming tonight.

Do you think he'll take the Change?

I don't know. [Beat] Maybe eventually.

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❈ | 029 | Video

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