(no subject)
It had never snowed in King’s Landing when she’d been there, but it was snowing now, a light dusting of dirty grey falling in flakes that felt like melting razors as they brushed her skin.
“Winter is coming,” said her father’s head, from atop its spike on the wall. The features were blurry, as if she were seeing it from the other side of a badly made sheet of glass. And on the spike next to it…
…on the spike next to it was Robb’s head. “Why would I have wanted to trade for you?” it asked. “What are you to me? You’re not a Stark. You’re no one.”
“I am a Stark,” she shouted back, taking a step forward. Snow slipped into the over-sized boots on her feet. The walls of King’s Landing were stone, one and all, but this wall was made of ice. She could see herself in it, just, a dark shadow of a girl with no face.
“Oh?” asked Robb. “Where’s your wolf, then? Mine’s right behind you.”
She turned, and there was Grey Wind…
…and next to the headless wolf was Robb’s body, the neck flowing seamlessly into the wolf’s head that snarled atop it. It should have looked comical, but the head was slavering and alive and hungry, and in its hand was Ice.
“Fear cuts deeper than swords,” she whispered, backing away, collapsing backwards as her foot caught something buried in the snow. Then she saw what it was.
“Swords cut deep too, child,” said the corpse of Syrio Forel, blood from half a hundred wounds dyeing the snow crimson.
The corpse-wolf moved closer. Lifted Ice. Swung.
But she wasn’t there to take the blow, she was moving, prowling, she had four legs and muscles and instincts and teeth and this abomination was just a new kind of prey, she’d kill it then she’d kill the other one and then she’d keep killing until it was safe, again and again and again. Bones cracked. Blood spurted.
Arya Stark woke to the sound of howling.
Was that just an echo from her dream, or one of the wolves? But when she looked, Grey Wind was asleep over by Edmund, and Ghost never made a sound…
She burst from the shelter at a run, but the howling had stopped. If it was ever there at all.
She stood there, shivering, staring out into the forest until dawn came.
“Winter is coming,” said her father’s head, from atop its spike on the wall. The features were blurry, as if she were seeing it from the other side of a badly made sheet of glass. And on the spike next to it…
…on the spike next to it was Robb’s head. “Why would I have wanted to trade for you?” it asked. “What are you to me? You’re not a Stark. You’re no one.”
“I am a Stark,” she shouted back, taking a step forward. Snow slipped into the over-sized boots on her feet. The walls of King’s Landing were stone, one and all, but this wall was made of ice. She could see herself in it, just, a dark shadow of a girl with no face.
“Oh?” asked Robb. “Where’s your wolf, then? Mine’s right behind you.”
She turned, and there was Grey Wind…
…and next to the headless wolf was Robb’s body, the neck flowing seamlessly into the wolf’s head that snarled atop it. It should have looked comical, but the head was slavering and alive and hungry, and in its hand was Ice.
“Fear cuts deeper than swords,” she whispered, backing away, collapsing backwards as her foot caught something buried in the snow. Then she saw what it was.
“Swords cut deep too, child,” said the corpse of Syrio Forel, blood from half a hundred wounds dyeing the snow crimson.
The corpse-wolf moved closer. Lifted Ice. Swung.
But she wasn’t there to take the blow, she was moving, prowling, she had four legs and muscles and instincts and teeth and this abomination was just a new kind of prey, she’d kill it then she’d kill the other one and then she’d keep killing until it was safe, again and again and again. Bones cracked. Blood spurted.
Arya Stark woke to the sound of howling.
Was that just an echo from her dream, or one of the wolves? But when she looked, Grey Wind was asleep over by Edmund, and Ghost never made a sound…
She burst from the shelter at a run, but the howling had stopped. If it was ever there at all.
She stood there, shivering, staring out into the forest until dawn came.