ᴏɴᴇ ʟɪғᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴏɴ ʀᴇᴘᴇᴀᴛ

[persequor]

ᴡʜᴏ: Arya and you.
ᴡʜᴀᴛ: A day in the life.
ᴡʜᴇɴ: Today.
ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: Options A-E open to all. Just let me know where we're at.


[ A // ɢᴀʀᴅᴇɴs ]
[ A couple of hours after daybreak finds Arya still in the gardens. While Nymeria naps close by, she attempts to weave flowers into a crown. The end result is laughable. Growling in frustration, she rips it apart. Around her lie the bruised and wilting victims of previous attempts. ]


[ B // ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ]
[ From the open door of the music room comes the sound of drumming. There is no rhythm nor any sense of a song. A laugh sometimes accompanies it. Inside the room, Arya beats on a drum in front of Nymeria. The direwolf seems more interested in the drumsticks Arya has in her hands than the actual instrument. Occasionally, she lunges at the sticks and Arya laughs and moves back. Nymeria yelps. ]


[ C // ʀᴏᴏғ ]
[ Arya lies on her stomach, head and shoulders jutting out over the edge. She kicks her feet idly back and forth as she holds her arm straight out. Her hand opens and something falls. She counts under her breath before stopping with a frown. ]

I need something bigger. Nymeria, the stick.

[ Nymeria ignores Arya; the direwolf continues gnawing happily on her drumstick. ]


[ D // ᴘɪᴇ sʜᴏᴘ ]
[ Having mopped the floor, wiped down the tables and counter and rearranged the chairs—twice—Arya finally accepts she is done with her work. She had not thought she would enjoy it so. Work was a welcome reprieve. When she had something to do, she had less time to think. In Paradisa, there was nothing but time to think. She had even begun to miss her lessons.

With the store empty for the moment, Arya steals a day-old pie from the kitchen. She sits at a table against the windows to eat. Fork to her lips, she entertains herself watching the people walking by. ]


[ E // ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅs ]
[ Lying on the grass near the duck pond, the child is unobtrusive and quiet for once. The direwolf usually with her is nowhere to be seen yet they are not separated. Arya almost seems to be sleeping if not for the slit of grey marking open eyes. Try not to step on her. ]


[ F // ᴅᴀᴇɴᴇʀʏs ]
Daenerys!

[ Pushing everything out of mind, Arya smiles as she calls out. Behind her, Nymeria drags a deer carcass across the ground. ]

Viserion! Drogon! Rhaegal! Look what we've brought you!

Comments

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

No one that you would ever have wished to meet. His evil polluted Middle Earth for far too long but he's, thankfully, been defeated.

[persequor]

How? [ STORY TIME STORY TIME *^* ]

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

He was bound to a ring of his own creation, a ring which he lost long ago and with it went what power he had. A young Hobbit took possession of it... nearly two centuries ago now and when it was discovered what ring it was, he and a group of companions were sent on a quest to destroy it in the one place it could be destroyed.

[persequor]

A Hobbit? Where did he take it?

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

The name of his race. Small folk but stout of body and heart. He had to take the ring to where it had been forged, Mount Doom. Only the fires there could undo it.

[persequor]

Did he escape after?

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

The Hobbit? Oh yes, he was able to escape though he journey wore on him. He sailed West more than a century ago, by my knowledge.

[persequor]

Do they live as long as you?

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

No, Hobbits are mortal. We elves are immortal.

[persequor]

What other races are in your world? You've men, right?

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

Oh yes, there are Men and also Dwarves and Ents. Those are among the races most favorable. There are also orcs, goblins, trolls and dragons.

[persequor]

Dragons aren't bad.

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

Where I am from, they aren't anything but.

[persequor]

Mayhaps that's their master's fault. A sword can slay what's good, but not for that is it evil. That would be its wielder using it for terrible things.

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

Dragons, unfortunately, have no masters in Middle Earth. Were it only so, many would have been spared their wrath throughout the ages.

[persequor]

I guess wild dragons would be bad. [ She can only imagine what the Targaryen dragons might have done without the Targaryens to control them. ]

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

I imagine they would be but those in Middle Earth cannot be tamed. They are creatures of intelligence, just as you and I.

[persequor]

Can they speak too?

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

They can, yes. Though I've never heard one myself, and I am thankful for that.

[persequor]

You'll probably meet Spike soon.

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

Spike?

[A pause because obviously he's clever enough to guess what race Spike must be considering their conversation.]

A dragon is here?

[persequor]

There are a few. He's the only one who talks.

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

I see. And he is friendly?

[persequor]

He's very stupid. All he talks about is friendship.

[bow_of_the_galadhrim]

That is quite different than anything I imagined a dragon might speak of.

[He won't touch on the stupid part.]