we carried on through drought and flood;

[wolfchild]

ᴡʜᴏ: Arya + you
ᴡʜᴀᴛ: Little girl misses mother.
ᴡʜᴇɴ: Morning + Evening
ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: see below
ɴᴏᴛᴇs: Spoilers abound for ASOS

A. Gardens
[ Life does not stop. If the gods were just, they would make it all stop. Arya does not know if the gods are not here yet or mayhaps they are dead. But the direwolves need grooming and that task falls to her. She had loved it before. Arya would lead Nymeria and Grey Wind out with a brush in hand. Nymeria needed to be chased down; Grey Wind would sit obligingly and lick her face.

Today, both direwolves are energetic. Days spent in closed quarters and they have plenty of energy to burn. They play fight, snarls ripping through the air, tails up. But though they grab one another and tackle the other, there is no blood, no injury.

Arya has not played like that in a long time. Fights aren't games.

She screams at both and they break apart. Arya immediately feels bad. She crouches on the grass and holds an arm out to them. Grey Wind comes up to her first, always the less petulant of the two. He nuzzles her neck. Nymeria rolls on the grass. Arya glares at her over Grey Wind's head as she begins brushing his coat. ]


B. Stark rooms
[ A nearly full plate on the floor and Arya sits at the window to watch the outside. It's pretty. It's always pretty. She hates it.

Nymeria snuffles over and eats the meat portions. Robb will know. But Arya's not very hungry and Nymeria wants it. She strokes the direwolf's clean, warm fur. ]

At least one of us is happy.

[ Lucky Nymeria. She never misses her mother. ]

Comments

[wolfchild]

[ She slides her hand in his where she can lace their fingers. Loyally, she says: ] You are still the friend I love best.

[wilder]

[Once she does that, he'll squeeze her hand affectionately] Oh? What's with that? You aren't worried I'm jealous am I?

[wolfchild]

I wouldn't want you to be. [ She speaks frankly, without any fear of teasing she may receive. ] You've no reason to.

[wilder]

[he chuckles a little] Don't worry, my little wolf. I know you love me. As I do you.

[wolfchild]

[ She exhales through parted lips. Not quite a smile, but the near-permanent furrow in her brow softens. Her thumb rubs circles on his skin. ]

Can you stay? Until Robb gets back?

[wilder]

[Which hey he considers brow softening to be progress! He nods]

I'll stay as long as you'd like.

...Or until your brother wants alone time with his sister.

[wolfchild]

And if I don't want you to go?

[wilder]

...You two work that one out. I am so not getting in the middle of siblings.

[wolfchild]

[ Arya swats him on the knee. ]

[wilder]

Owwww, hey!

[wolfchild]

[ Without apology, she moves a little closer to Zelos so she can lie down on her side and pillow her head on his thigh. Arya tries to keep the contact to the barest minimum so he does not push her off. Her eyes remain on the door.

Having someone helps. But still a terrible feeling seizes her and she has to stop herself from running out to find Robb herself.

She no longer sleeps without him. Many times a night she wakes in the grip of a nightmare and can only breathe again to the sound of his heartbeat under her ear. If she could, she would remain abed forever with her brother's hand on her hair. They could both sleep and dream inside their wolf skins. They could race through the woods and hunt as a pack. No one would go looking for them.

But that's a child's dream. And she's not a child anymore. Children don't kill.

Arya can feel Jaqen's coin against her skin. She touches her tunic where under it rests. Her parted lips mouth the words, valar morghulis, before her hand drifts up and traces her feather through the tunic, warm against her skin. ]