fearcutsdeeperthanswords | Apr. 6th, 2012

A girl has no sister. That was some dead girl, sister of a dead girl. I am no one. I have no face.

[There's the smallest of pauses; Arya's face has been calm as still water until now, unmoving, betraying no emotion. But there's the tiniest crack, the bittiest of uncertainty. It's only there for a moment, then it flows away.]

A girl has no brothers, either. [Someone found out Jon left.] I'm no one.

[Nymeria bumps Arya's hand, on the very edge of the screen, and Arya turns to her wolf, frowning hard and apparently forgetting that the device is recording, because when she speaks, it's only for Nymeria.] You're no one, too. We'll be Faceless together.

[Then she reaches out, and kills the feed.]

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When at last she slept, she dreamed of home. The kingsroad wound its way past Winterfell on its way to the Wall, and Yoren had promised he'd leave her there with no one any wiser about who she'd been. She yearned to see her mother again, and Robb and Bran and Rickon...But it was Jon Snow she thought of most. She wished somehow they could come to the Wall before Winterfell, so Jon might muss up her hair and call her "little sister." She'd tell him, "I missed you," and he'd say it too at the very same moment, the way they always used to say things together. She would have liked that. She would have liked that better than anything.

calm as still water, swift as a deer

fear cuts deeper than swords

Apr. 6th, 2012

❈ | 015 | Video

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