restlessly seeking images a child needs

[wolfchild]

Who: Arya and you!
What: Escaping the clinic
When: Noon-ish.
Where: Lobby/Satis Tower stairwell


[ two days in the clinic is too much for one arya stark. earlier she had shoved her blankets on the floor and dropped down on top of them. gripping them, she had given the end to nymeria for the direwolf to pull her out.

the plan had worked. until they came to the stairs. nymeria has enough strength to pull her up. she also has enough strength to pull arya's arm out of its socket. arya had struggled up two of them herself before sinking on them, breathing hard and sweating copiously. a week asleep and her legs refuse to work right. even her arms feel weak. she feels weak. she hates it. she hates the castle for changing her. and she hates the fucking stairs.

with no journal on her to call someone, she stays at the bottom of the stairs, the blanket pooled around her legs. nymeria lies on the floor, blocking the entire way, panting heavily. to make it look planned, arya makes herself comfortable and even sings a few verses of queen nymeria's song as she picks things out of nymeria's fur.

pajamas and blankets are totally the fashionable look, man. ]

Comments

[wolfchild]

[ she shifts as well as she's able to the side so he has space. the blanket tightens around and her legs and she struggles to free it. ]

I was already a criminal. Mayhaps now they'll clap me in irons.

[ she's joking. half. which half, tho. ]

[gravedigs]

[ He grins, playing along. ]

Why do I get the feeling that if anyone tried to do that they'd end up with chunks missing courtesy of-- [ He points surreptitiously in Nymeria's direction. ] --you know who?

[wolfchild]

[ she smiles. ]

Her brother took a man's fingers off for speaking badly of my brother. He's the well-behaved one. She's a terror. [ arya says it fondly. ]

[gravedigs]

[ He makes a show of cringing. ] Gross. Remind me to never treat you like anything less than a princess. [ Not that he actually knows how to treat a princess. ] So. What's the real reason you're sitting at the bottom of the stairs in your PJs?

[wolfchild]

[ she does not answer the question because she does not want to and the princess comment was the last thing she expected to hear. ]

How do you know that? Have you spoken with my brother?

[gravedigs]

How do I know what? [ She can't be wondering how he knows she's sitting at the bottom of the stairs in her PJs because, well, it's a little obvious, so-- ] Wait a minute. You're not actually a princess, are you?

[wolfchild]

[ arya's expression takes a turn for the guilty. it is not something she makes public or even likes to think about. she qualified as a lady only on the basis of birth. her ancestors were all kings, and her lineage among the oldest and noblest of westeros and still identifying as royalty herself feels odd. she feels less like a princess than she ever did a lady.

but robb is king. he has referred to her as princess before so arya supposes she should too. as much as it feels like donning another ill-fitting, scratchy gown. ]

I am Princess of Winterfell. My brother is King in the North.

[gravedigs]

[ Isaac grins. She's not anything like Disney led him to believe, okay? ] Shit. That's crazy.

I've never actually heard of Winterfell, though. Do you have a castle or whatever?

[wolfchild]

[ this is...not a reaction she expected. ]

Winterfell is our castle. Our dominion is over the North and the Riverlands. You won't know of those. There's not many here from Westeros.

[gravedigs]

Oh. That sounds-- wet. [ Yep. He went there.

Also sorry Arya he's really not good at being reverent. ] So. Don't think I didn't notice you dodging my other question.

[wolfchild]

It's not so wet. [ though when it rains, it does so heavily. ] What other question?

[gravedigs]

Why are you really sitting at the bottom of the stairs?

[wolfchild]

[ she shrugs again. arya doesn't look at him as she says, ] I can't walk well.