ᴛᴡᴏ ♚ broken dreams and silent screams

[wolfskin]

Is there naught we can do but sit and wait for this... affliction to run it's course?

[ Robb fears he knew the answer to this question before it ever left his mouth. By his tone he is by no means pleased. (But who is?) The background a low rumble can be heard, heavy foot falls soon joining them as Grey Wind paces the room.

The line across his neck was the first to appear, spreading like greyscale. Then the heart... bleeding words as if that sword had truly pierced his chest. Robb covered them with scarves and leathers, but it did little to hide the stains. They simply bleed through as if the fabric had never been there to begin with.

The padding suddenly stops with a bestial groan. Grey Wind plops down at his feet, quite literally on his feet. Thanks bro. ]

Alright boy, lets go outside.

[ Neither wolf nor king seem to be good at sitting, so outside they go. With journal in hand and stains for all to see. ]

Comments

[wolfchild]

You cannot lie in front of a weirwood.

[ Just a small reminder. You know. Just in case. ]

[wolfskin]

Nor can you. [ He knows Arya, and he certainly would not lie in front of it. ]

[wolfchild]

I don't. [ She jerks her hand back when a line etches itself across the back of it. The words had only been on her left first. She pulls away from the tree, just in case. The grey heart on her chest beats a little faster. ]

[wolfskin]

I know, Arya. [ He looks at her hands, frown settling upon his features. He thinks to ask, he wants to ask however... ] Do they hurt?

[wolfchild]

[ She's relieved that is his question and smart enough not to show it. ]

No.

[wolfskin]

Good. [ He would not know what to do if they did. ]

[wolfchild]

Do yours?

[wolfskin]

[ Robb looks from the free to Arya, swallowing the lump forming in this throat. ]

They hurt my heart only.

[wolfchild]

[ Arya doesn't know what to answer to that. She toes the earth. Biting her lip, she throws her arms around his waist and hugs him fiercely. ]

[wolfskin]

[ A moment passes and Robb does not move, he stands stunned before hands move to hug her back. Falling to his knees to hug her better, tighter, like holding her is the only thing that keeps him breathing and his blood flowing. ]

[wolfchild]

[ It's a little too tight, but she doesn't fight him. It's good. When she thought she would never see her brothers again. When she thought she would never find him in time. Every morning, she peeks in his room and their mother's before doing anything for fear they would have gone in the night. Some days, she filters to them just to hear their voice. To know they haven't left her.

She hates that he's hurting and hates more that she can do nothing. Robb did so much for them and he was doing so well...

Arya was never very good articulating. Sansa could always express herself without difficulty. She settles for the truest thing she can think of. ]

I love you.

[wolfskin]

[ He does not know if he wants to laugh or weep. He settles for a breath escaping his lips, not quite a laugh but not quite noise either. He does not know, in all honesty, yet he kisses the top of her head. ]

I love you too, little sister.

[ He repeats himself in more hushed tone, lips twitching into something of a smile. ]

[wolfchild]

[ She smiles into the embrace. The kiss warms her. Arya can feel her heart beat a little faster. No one can lie in front of a weirwood. An odd thing to remember now, and she pushes it aside. She returns the kiss and makes a face. Her fingers comb through his beard. ]

You need to shave.

[wolfskin]

[ And he would not lie, not to her, not in front of the weirwood. The place that shall be their godswood in Paradisa. Robb makes a face, brow furrowing into almost a pout.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Young Wolf is indeed pouting! ]

Truly?

[wolfchild]

The hair is on your face is getting as long as the hair on your head.

[ okay not so much but she's a little sister and her job is to be a brat. le shrug. ]

[wolfskin]

It is not. [ He huffs, bringing a hand to his face to feel his jaw. ]

[wolfchild]

[ She pokes him on the chin with a laugh. ]

It is so.

[wolfskin]

Your hair is getting long. [ That is the worst comeback ever Robb, be ashamed. ]

[wolfchild]

That's what hair does, stupid.

[wolfskin]

It will be knotted again.

[wolfchild]

You brush it then. [ It's a trap. ] And brush your beard too.

[wolfskin]

Am I your maid now?

[wolfchild]

Yes. [ she says it promptly. ] I'll be queen.

[wolfskin]

Queen of the North? [ He laughs. ] Shall I get a crown made for you, Your Grace?

[wolfchild]

Of iron. Like yours. With wolves etched on it. And with winter roses like Lyanna's.