No one doesn't have a hole in her heart.
Every day Arya had woken up and the loss was still there, an empty space with aching sides, and so every day she'd made some small preparation and hoped that maybe the next day something would change.
She'd been stupid, she realized; nothing was going to change unless she changed it. She'd known since Halloween what she might have to do, and the coin had just made her certain, for all that she'd tried to ignore it afterward.
Today, then, was the day. She woke up early, as she always did, and forwent her usual routine. No exercises today, no practice. She took Needle, because if she left it that would be noticed, but did not bother strapping the sword-belt on, and left Summerfell. Nymeria, she firmly ordered to stay close to home; she'd be back tonight, there was no way around that, and in the meantime she didn't want to scare anyone. While Nymeria was still here, Arya of House Stark still was, too, somewhere, so let them see her wolf and know that.
Thus assured her family wouldn't worry, she gathered up the small parcel she'd hidden, and made her way to the pool by the waterfall. She waited till she was absolutely sure no one was around, and as soon as she was sure - if she waited too long someone might show up - she stripped off and dived into the pool, naked as the day she was born, and swam down, letting the water wash off every little trace of Arya Stark, all the smells of her life.
She surfaced, and pulled on the dress she'd scavenged from the clothes box one day when it had been deserted, and hidden away; she couldn't use the dresses Glinda had given Arya, not right away because those could be recognized. So she had a different one, a simple one. The first such she'd found had had acorns on, so she'd thrown it back in favour of the current, on which there were flowers.
Arya of House Stark would never wear a dress, let alone a dress such as this, so it was perfect. She pulled it on, it sticking to her wet skin in places, tugged her hair free and let it sit unbraided down over her shoulders. Then she took up Arya Stark's clothes and swords and put them away in a hidden place only she knew about, and then she walked to the beach, taking care to stay off the paths, but taking care, also, not to tear her dress, or get leaves in her hair, or to get dirty.
By the time she emerged onto the beach, she was dry, and she wasn't sad any more. She didn't have any reason to be sad, after all; that was some other girl. She was just confused, and scared, and this all read clearly on her face.
Her name was Rosalind Oliver, and she'd just arrived.
[A debut, of sorts. Meet Rosalind Oliver. She's new. ...kind of. Please don't have anyone seeing through her without talking to me, because she's pretty good at this. Edit: But of course anyone can see that they're identical, or mistake her for Arya at first, or what-have-you.]
She'd been stupid, she realized; nothing was going to change unless she changed it. She'd known since Halloween what she might have to do, and the coin had just made her certain, for all that she'd tried to ignore it afterward.
Today, then, was the day. She woke up early, as she always did, and forwent her usual routine. No exercises today, no practice. She took Needle, because if she left it that would be noticed, but did not bother strapping the sword-belt on, and left Summerfell. Nymeria, she firmly ordered to stay close to home; she'd be back tonight, there was no way around that, and in the meantime she didn't want to scare anyone. While Nymeria was still here, Arya of House Stark still was, too, somewhere, so let them see her wolf and know that.
Thus assured her family wouldn't worry, she gathered up the small parcel she'd hidden, and made her way to the pool by the waterfall. She waited till she was absolutely sure no one was around, and as soon as she was sure - if she waited too long someone might show up - she stripped off and dived into the pool, naked as the day she was born, and swam down, letting the water wash off every little trace of Arya Stark, all the smells of her life.
She surfaced, and pulled on the dress she'd scavenged from the clothes box one day when it had been deserted, and hidden away; she couldn't use the dresses Glinda had given Arya, not right away because those could be recognized. So she had a different one, a simple one. The first such she'd found had had acorns on, so she'd thrown it back in favour of the current, on which there were flowers.
Arya of House Stark would never wear a dress, let alone a dress such as this, so it was perfect. She pulled it on, it sticking to her wet skin in places, tugged her hair free and let it sit unbraided down over her shoulders. Then she took up Arya Stark's clothes and swords and put them away in a hidden place only she knew about, and then she walked to the beach, taking care to stay off the paths, but taking care, also, not to tear her dress, or get leaves in her hair, or to get dirty.
By the time she emerged onto the beach, she was dry, and she wasn't sad any more. She didn't have any reason to be sad, after all; that was some other girl. She was just confused, and scared, and this all read clearly on her face.
Her name was Rosalind Oliver, and she'd just arrived.
[A debut, of sorts. Meet Rosalind Oliver. She's new. ...kind of. Please don't have anyone seeing through her without talking to me, because she's pretty good at this. Edit: But of course anyone can see that they're identical, or mistake her for Arya at first, or what-have-you.]