(no subject)
Who: Sansa Stark, Arya Stark
What: reunion
When: Arya's arrival
Where: Arya's room and hallway
Rating: PG
Arya fidgeted, feeling extremely exposed in the corridor. She continued to look around, carefully. The stone halls were lit with lights that didn't flicker, like fire was wont to. More magic. She had been very hesitant to say anything at all in the journal, but what else was she to do? If it was some sort of trap to reveal her identity... well, she had several. Let them try.
The part she hadn't expected? Her sister. Her sister. She sniffed once, hard, rubbing her eyes with a dirty arm. Arya Stark was no crybaby. Would this... could this all be real? Arya froze, tears forgotten, and slowly lowered her arm until it rested back by her side. Sansa was practically in love with Queen Cersei and Prince Joffrey the last time they saw each other... perhaps this was all some sort of trap.
Arya shook her head clear. Be ready for anything. Even if this place didn't look like the Red Keep, and certainly nothing like Harrenhal... she couldn't afford to be weak or off her guard. A feeling of familiarity fell upon her. This readiness, this tension was what she had been living with for what seemed like ages, after all.
Sansa hadn't only resigned herself to living in Paradisa forever, she had resigned herself to never seeing her family again. Of course she would miss them, miss them with a constant ache in her--but she didn't deserve to see them again. Sansa Stark was convinced that the gods of the First Men had answered her prayers--but that in exchange from delivering her from the Red Keep, she would no longer be a Stark. No longer a burdern to her family--no longer a traitor.
So although she missed her family terribly, she had accepted the ache in her heart caused by their absence as the burden she must bear for repentance.
So when she heard her little sister's voice through her journal, she was completely unprepared. Arya? Arya was here? The little sister she had fought with so constantly, who refused to conform to anyones ideas of what a lady should be and--the little sister who had been missing and presumed dead since the day their Lord Father had been captured by the Lannisters.
Arya was here.
Sansa ran from her room in a most undignified, unladylike way--she couldn't bring herself to care otherwise. She practically held her breath the entire way up to the floor Arya was supposed to be on. Perhaps this was some trick of the castle--such as when she had imagined herself back at the Red Keep. Perhaps this was only a cruel trick and the hallway would be empty, and Sansa would go back to being alone.
...But the hallway wasn't empty. Instead, there stood a small, scruffy, dirt-covered little girl. A girl with wolf-brown hair and the long somber face characteristic of their father. Arya.
With a cry, Sansa fell open her sister, sobbing. For a moment she was unable to form any words--but eventually her sobs became clearer. "Arya! I'm s-s-sorry! I'm so, s-so, s-s-sorry!"
Arya quickly looked down the hall at the approaching footsteps, slowly sinking into a "ready" position. What she didn't really count on was the fact that "ready" readied her for big, nasty men with swords and maces and gods knew what else. What "ready" didn't ready her for was an older girl coming with all of the strength of months and months of endless worry.
Still, she did have enough foresight to back off a few steps when Sansa hit. No need for both of them to fall down.
Still... Arya paused, and sniffed a bit. Clean smell. Definitely red hair, like Mother. And a blubber that eventually coalesced into a frantic apology, definitely in Sansa's... Sansa's...
How long had it been since she had seen Sansa?
Arya didn't notice herself start to shiver. She did notice tear droplets starting to fall off the tip of her nose, and, well, she couldn't have that, she was a wolf, a wolf, gods damn it all, she couldn't just fall to pieces right when... right when...
Arya sniffled even more loudly, and whispered, "Are we... are you... is everything fine. Are we s-safe?" Her lower lip started trembling. Damn.
When Sansa finally pulled back, she was able to stop crying at least long enough to give Arya a once-over. Her sister had never been the most hygenic or ladylike of noblewomen, but the girl she saw before her now---well, she was gaunt. And serious--so serious. Her face looked just like their father's before he...
She quickly shut down that train of thought, and instead chose to answer her sister. "Yes, Arya--we're safe here. This isn't Westeros anymore. Joffrey, Queen Cersei--they can't find us here. No one can."
When the two pulled apart, Arya had quickly looked her sister up and down. It was really, really definitely Sansa. She looked well. Tons taller (Arya would've pouted at that under normal circumstances), and positively... glowing. Sansa always had a talent for that, even though other people looked awful when they cried, what with all the snot dripping and the red nose.
Arya listened intently, and then went over the information again in her mind. Not... in Westeros? Somewhere Joffrey and the Queen couldn't find them? "A-a-are you s-sure that this isn't o-one of the Free C-c-cities? That's w-where I th-thought I was... I was g-going." Arya forced out that last bit without falling apart. She quietly patted herself on the back.
Sansa nodded, taking her sister's hand in her own and squeezing it tightly. "The gods answered my prayers, Arya--they delievered me to this land...and now they've delievered you to me. This castle...it's called Paradisa. You and I--we are the only ones from Westeros here. It's...a magical place. Full of many strange people. Some are warlocks, some are maesters, some are even knights but--they are all different from...home."
Arya was going to the Free Cities? Sansa frowned slightly at that information. Why would her sister choose to go to the Free Cities and not meet their lady mother at Riverrun? Wasn't that where Robb and his men were? And if not Riverrun, Bran and Rickon at Winterfell. For the moment she chose not to press it--Arya was here and safe and that was all that mattered.
Really, Arya didn't wanted to be treated like a little girl - she wasn't a little girl anymore, she'd killed grown men, ordered them to be killed, fought for her life and escaped more times than she could remember. But when Sansa took her by the hand, she didn't pull her had away. She cursed herself, but squeezed back. It was a very... Sansa thing to do.
And again, more information that she tried to process as fast as she could. "Paradisa... Not Westeros. N-nowhere in Westeros." She frowned. Sounded impossible... but then, it was impossible for Winterfell to fall, wasn't it? "We're... alone? B-but of course we are alone, Sansa." Winterfell was gone, Bran and Rickon with it, she had seen the aftermath of Riverrun before her eyes. Father was dead. Jon could never return. They... they were the only Starks left.
"W-warlocks?" Arya could believe that, at least. "D-did they make the lights and the journals? A-and there's more than one m-maester? A-and... the knights, are they... are... the Mountain? Or the... Hound?" The Hound. Arya bit her lip. The Hound couldn't be here. He was dead.
Sansa's eyes widened slightly in fear at the mention of the Hound. Arya...Arya didn't need to know about him having been there. It would only scare her. At least, that's what she told herself. The truth was more that...it scared here.
"There is no Mountain and no Hound." She smiled, albiet somewhat fakely. But her smile died totally as she considered the rest of what Arya had said. 'Of course we're alone?' It sounded so fatalistic. Fear gripped her heart--but Sansa pushed it back. She would try to be stronger.
"I believe they must have--there are many magic things here, many wonderous sights." And many terrifying ones. But Sansa wasn't looking to discuss the zombie invasion at the moment. "And I've made friends...friends who will love you, Arya." She smiled.
"No Mountain. No Hound." That meant she couldn't complete her prayer. Arya frowned. That was... she started to shake. No prayer. Then what... where was she... what was she supposed to do? She looked back up, just barely missing the false smile on her sister's face.
Wondrous sights? Arya wondered if they were in the Free Cities after all... but for some reason, she was starting to believe that they were both safe. Sansa looked... relaxed. Not the kind of formal relaxed that she had always adopted around all the nobility that they had to stay with at the Red Keep, although it seemed to suit her like a glove... it was the more childlike relaxed, the composure she had when she was yelling at Arya or getting ready for bed. She surely wouldn't be like that anywhere where Cersei or Joffrey would be...
And friends? Arya couldn't help but laugh. "You like noblemen and women for friends, Sansa. I don't think they'd like me around very much." She paused, and tacked a hesitant smile to the end of her sentence. She was starting to believe it.
It was true that Sansa generally prefered the company of refined ladies and attractive and gallant young men but...well, Paradisa had forced her to broaden her horizons a bit. Besides--Lana would surely love Arya. Arya was ten times the rider Sansa would ever be...and Vivi was so like Bran in her mindseye that she imagined the two of them would get on famously.
But now that the intial joy and relief of seeing her sister had faded to a pleasant happiness, Sansa was beginning to feel exhausted. It was just like Arya to show up unexpectedly in the middle of the night, when it was least convienty for everyone else. She smiled wryly, and then stood.
"Arya, they will love you. You'll see--they're very..unique. And one of them keeps horses..." She smiled, then motioned for her sister to follow her into the room that was now Arya's own. "Come...let me show you your room. I'll stay here with you tonight."
Keeps horses? Now why would Sansa keep friends like that? Unless... they really were in somepleace where.. there was no one else. That, or she had really been knocked out on the boat ride to the Free Cities.
Still. Sansa's hand felt real enough. She was smiling. And... Arya felt she could too. If this all was a lie... well, it was one she couldn't help but like, anyway. "All right," she said, allowing herself to be pulled into the room.
What: reunion
When: Arya's arrival
Where: Arya's room and hallway
Rating: PG
Arya fidgeted, feeling extremely exposed in the corridor. She continued to look around, carefully. The stone halls were lit with lights that didn't flicker, like fire was wont to. More magic. She had been very hesitant to say anything at all in the journal, but what else was she to do? If it was some sort of trap to reveal her identity... well, she had several. Let them try.
The part she hadn't expected? Her sister. Her sister. She sniffed once, hard, rubbing her eyes with a dirty arm. Arya Stark was no crybaby. Would this... could this all be real? Arya froze, tears forgotten, and slowly lowered her arm until it rested back by her side. Sansa was practically in love with Queen Cersei and Prince Joffrey the last time they saw each other... perhaps this was all some sort of trap.
Arya shook her head clear. Be ready for anything. Even if this place didn't look like the Red Keep, and certainly nothing like Harrenhal... she couldn't afford to be weak or off her guard. A feeling of familiarity fell upon her. This readiness, this tension was what she had been living with for what seemed like ages, after all.
Sansa hadn't only resigned herself to living in Paradisa forever, she had resigned herself to never seeing her family again. Of course she would miss them, miss them with a constant ache in her--but she didn't deserve to see them again. Sansa Stark was convinced that the gods of the First Men had answered her prayers--but that in exchange from delivering her from the Red Keep, she would no longer be a Stark. No longer a burdern to her family--no longer a traitor.
So although she missed her family terribly, she had accepted the ache in her heart caused by their absence as the burden she must bear for repentance.
So when she heard her little sister's voice through her journal, she was completely unprepared. Arya? Arya was here? The little sister she had fought with so constantly, who refused to conform to anyones ideas of what a lady should be and--the little sister who had been missing and presumed dead since the day their Lord Father had been captured by the Lannisters.
Arya was here.
Sansa ran from her room in a most undignified, unladylike way--she couldn't bring herself to care otherwise. She practically held her breath the entire way up to the floor Arya was supposed to be on. Perhaps this was some trick of the castle--such as when she had imagined herself back at the Red Keep. Perhaps this was only a cruel trick and the hallway would be empty, and Sansa would go back to being alone.
...But the hallway wasn't empty. Instead, there stood a small, scruffy, dirt-covered little girl. A girl with wolf-brown hair and the long somber face characteristic of their father. Arya.
With a cry, Sansa fell open her sister, sobbing. For a moment she was unable to form any words--but eventually her sobs became clearer. "Arya! I'm s-s-sorry! I'm so, s-so, s-s-sorry!"
Arya quickly looked down the hall at the approaching footsteps, slowly sinking into a "ready" position. What she didn't really count on was the fact that "ready" readied her for big, nasty men with swords and maces and gods knew what else. What "ready" didn't ready her for was an older girl coming with all of the strength of months and months of endless worry.
Still, she did have enough foresight to back off a few steps when Sansa hit. No need for both of them to fall down.
Still... Arya paused, and sniffed a bit. Clean smell. Definitely red hair, like Mother. And a blubber that eventually coalesced into a frantic apology, definitely in Sansa's... Sansa's...
How long had it been since she had seen Sansa?
Arya didn't notice herself start to shiver. She did notice tear droplets starting to fall off the tip of her nose, and, well, she couldn't have that, she was a wolf, a wolf, gods damn it all, she couldn't just fall to pieces right when... right when...
Arya sniffled even more loudly, and whispered, "Are we... are you... is everything fine. Are we s-safe?" Her lower lip started trembling. Damn.
When Sansa finally pulled back, she was able to stop crying at least long enough to give Arya a once-over. Her sister had never been the most hygenic or ladylike of noblewomen, but the girl she saw before her now---well, she was gaunt. And serious--so serious. Her face looked just like their father's before he...
She quickly shut down that train of thought, and instead chose to answer her sister. "Yes, Arya--we're safe here. This isn't Westeros anymore. Joffrey, Queen Cersei--they can't find us here. No one can."
When the two pulled apart, Arya had quickly looked her sister up and down. It was really, really definitely Sansa. She looked well. Tons taller (Arya would've pouted at that under normal circumstances), and positively... glowing. Sansa always had a talent for that, even though other people looked awful when they cried, what with all the snot dripping and the red nose.
Arya listened intently, and then went over the information again in her mind. Not... in Westeros? Somewhere Joffrey and the Queen couldn't find them? "A-a-are you s-sure that this isn't o-one of the Free C-c-cities? That's w-where I th-thought I was... I was g-going." Arya forced out that last bit without falling apart. She quietly patted herself on the back.
Sansa nodded, taking her sister's hand in her own and squeezing it tightly. "The gods answered my prayers, Arya--they delievered me to this land...and now they've delievered you to me. This castle...it's called Paradisa. You and I--we are the only ones from Westeros here. It's...a magical place. Full of many strange people. Some are warlocks, some are maesters, some are even knights but--they are all different from...home."
Arya was going to the Free Cities? Sansa frowned slightly at that information. Why would her sister choose to go to the Free Cities and not meet their lady mother at Riverrun? Wasn't that where Robb and his men were? And if not Riverrun, Bran and Rickon at Winterfell. For the moment she chose not to press it--Arya was here and safe and that was all that mattered.
Really, Arya didn't wanted to be treated like a little girl - she wasn't a little girl anymore, she'd killed grown men, ordered them to be killed, fought for her life and escaped more times than she could remember. But when Sansa took her by the hand, she didn't pull her had away. She cursed herself, but squeezed back. It was a very... Sansa thing to do.
And again, more information that she tried to process as fast as she could. "Paradisa... Not Westeros. N-nowhere in Westeros." She frowned. Sounded impossible... but then, it was impossible for Winterfell to fall, wasn't it? "We're... alone? B-but of course we are alone, Sansa." Winterfell was gone, Bran and Rickon with it, she had seen the aftermath of Riverrun before her eyes. Father was dead. Jon could never return. They... they were the only Starks left.
"W-warlocks?" Arya could believe that, at least. "D-did they make the lights and the journals? A-and there's more than one m-maester? A-and... the knights, are they... are... the Mountain? Or the... Hound?" The Hound. Arya bit her lip. The Hound couldn't be here. He was dead.
Sansa's eyes widened slightly in fear at the mention of the Hound. Arya...Arya didn't need to know about him having been there. It would only scare her. At least, that's what she told herself. The truth was more that...it scared here.
"There is no Mountain and no Hound." She smiled, albiet somewhat fakely. But her smile died totally as she considered the rest of what Arya had said. 'Of course we're alone?' It sounded so fatalistic. Fear gripped her heart--but Sansa pushed it back. She would try to be stronger.
"I believe they must have--there are many magic things here, many wonderous sights." And many terrifying ones. But Sansa wasn't looking to discuss the zombie invasion at the moment. "And I've made friends...friends who will love you, Arya." She smiled.
"No Mountain. No Hound." That meant she couldn't complete her prayer. Arya frowned. That was... she started to shake. No prayer. Then what... where was she... what was she supposed to do? She looked back up, just barely missing the false smile on her sister's face.
Wondrous sights? Arya wondered if they were in the Free Cities after all... but for some reason, she was starting to believe that they were both safe. Sansa looked... relaxed. Not the kind of formal relaxed that she had always adopted around all the nobility that they had to stay with at the Red Keep, although it seemed to suit her like a glove... it was the more childlike relaxed, the composure she had when she was yelling at Arya or getting ready for bed. She surely wouldn't be like that anywhere where Cersei or Joffrey would be...
And friends? Arya couldn't help but laugh. "You like noblemen and women for friends, Sansa. I don't think they'd like me around very much." She paused, and tacked a hesitant smile to the end of her sentence. She was starting to believe it.
It was true that Sansa generally prefered the company of refined ladies and attractive and gallant young men but...well, Paradisa had forced her to broaden her horizons a bit. Besides--Lana would surely love Arya. Arya was ten times the rider Sansa would ever be...and Vivi was so like Bran in her mindseye that she imagined the two of them would get on famously.
But now that the intial joy and relief of seeing her sister had faded to a pleasant happiness, Sansa was beginning to feel exhausted. It was just like Arya to show up unexpectedly in the middle of the night, when it was least convienty for everyone else. She smiled wryly, and then stood.
"Arya, they will love you. You'll see--they're very..unique. And one of them keeps horses..." She smiled, then motioned for her sister to follow her into the room that was now Arya's own. "Come...let me show you your room. I'll stay here with you tonight."
Keeps horses? Now why would Sansa keep friends like that? Unless... they really were in somepleace where.. there was no one else. That, or she had really been knocked out on the boat ride to the Free Cities.
Still. Sansa's hand felt real enough. She was smiling. And... Arya felt she could too. If this all was a lie... well, it was one she couldn't help but like, anyway. "All right," she said, allowing herself to be pulled into the room.