Dead Man's Hands: Arya/Tywin, dreams + blood and snowmoderntricksterMarch 16 2013, 02:43:09 UTC
Snow swirled dizzily around her, leaving the world in blinding whiteness as she stepped out from under a stone archway and out into the expansive lichyard. Mausoleums rose like a tiny city all around her, snow clinging thick to their pitched roofs and craggy walls, obscuring the features of the statues standing like frozen sentinels ian their eternal watch. The snow crunched softly under her bare feet as she moved, rising up to her ankles with each step, but she felt no cold - not from the snow under her feet or the flakes that pelted her pale, bare face and shoulders. The only covering she had was the a linen sheet wrapped snug around her body and tucked high under her arms, held by one clenched fist across her chest. The warmth of the braziers, unevenly dispersed throughout the tombs, should not have been enough to keep the chill from penetrating her skin, but the flames gently licking at the wind seemed to chase away whatever cold tried to find her.
I am a wolf, she thought, and wolves don't feel cold.
She couldn't remember ever being here before, but somehow she still knew her way through the maze of tombs, the sheet dragging behind her like a train and dusting away her footsteps. There was a reason she'd come here, something she was meant to find, and she could feel it like a hand at the back of her neck gently guiding her onward. She was not usually one to be so easily guided, but this touch felt familiar, and there was no reason to fight it just for the sake of being difficult. So she let it draw her further inward, through each twisting row and past the eroded gazes of lords and knights from ages past. It was there, near the heart of the lichyard, she found what she'd come here for.
I am a wolf, she thought, and wolves don't feel cold.
She couldn't remember ever being here before, but somehow she still knew her way through the maze of tombs, the sheet dragging behind her like a train and dusting away her footsteps. There was a reason she'd come here, something she was meant to find, and she could feel it like a hand at the back of her neck gently guiding her onward. She was not usually one to be so easily guided, but this touch felt familiar, and there was no reason to fight it just for the sake of being difficult. So she let it draw her further inward, through each twisting row and past the eroded gazes of lords and knights from ages past. It was there, near the heart of the lichyard, she found what she'd come here for.
Read the rest...
Reply
Leave a comment