fearcutsdeeperthanswords: (Up and up and up again)
[Private to Beatrix]

[You know what sucks? Spending a few days with the surname of the people you really want to murder the crap out of. Arya has been fairly quiet since the flood ended - mostly to keep from having Nymeria hunt Tyrion down and murder him. If he would stay dead, she wouldn't have resisted at all.

But she's trying to be Faceless again, and it's much harder with floods and breaches and Lannisters, but they were going to train her in all sorts of things in the House of Black and White - so she's ready to train in all sorts of things here.]


I want to start learning. To fight like you do. Can we start now?

Custom Text



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.