no home sweet no sweet home

[persequor]

[ At Alexstrasza's tree ]

[ She finally stopped inside the woods. Sagging against a tree, she grabs her side. Her breaths come in shallow gasps. She inhales through her nose, exhales through her mouth. Calm as still water. I must be still water. This time, her dancing lessons don't help.

For once, Arya is completely alone. Nymeria some days left early in the morning to hunt and wouldn't return until evening. Arya did not worry, but she misses her companion keenly now. The girl and wolf are the same; their pack is all gone.

When she opens her eyes, she blinks. The vegetation ahead is verdant, moreso than the one where she is. Look with your eyes, she hears her dancing master say. Looking with her eyes, she spots a tree. An oak. An old, old oak, peaceful and warm. She doesn't think there are any weirwoods here. But this oak has the feel of a weirwood. Of Winterfell's heart tree.

Is the tree still there? Did they cut it down and burn it? Is it broken and dead too?

She sits in front of the tree like she used to in front of the heart tree. They would go together to say their prayers to the old gods. She remembers one night they spent in vigil outside. Rickon was not yet born and Bran was still a baby. Arya had said she could stay awake all night, but she fell asleep against Jon Snow. Only their father had stayed awake until morning. He had woken them all up, her and Robb and Jon, even Sansa had stayed outside, to see the sunlight wash over the red leaves. The tree had seemed on fire, but it wasn't scary. It was beautiful.

When she tries to pray this time, the journal trapped against her chest pokes her. Arya tugs it out and drops it beside her. The cover falls open. Her prayer is quiet and one she has been whispering to herself every night before sleeping. Today, it has a new name. ]

Joffrey. Queen Cersei. Ser Ilyn. Ser Meryn. The Hound. Theon Greyjoy.

Comments

[persequor]

[ The tone she takes it on is quiet and even. Her face is still water. It reveals nothing. But she still refuses to look anywhere but at the branches. ]

My father was executed in King's Landing. Those that came with us were too except for Sansa and me. My other brothers were betrayed by Father's ward and Winterfell was sacked and put to the torch. Our household must be dead too. They loved my father. And they loved us. Maester Luwin delivered all of Mother's children. Mikken made my sword. Needle has his mark. And the rest...they would have all tried to protect my brothers. And my elder brother and my mother will be betrayed and murdered at the Twins. Our bannermen as well.

The North is broken. And winter is coming.

[wilder]

[he's quiet as he listens. He has no advice, no words of condolence. There's nothing someone can possibly say to all that. ]

...What will you do?

[persequor]

[ Finally, she looks at him. ]

I don't know.

[ She's nothing. She's a little girl with a toy sword who wanted to go up against knights and butchers. But this isn't a story. There's no hero. The monster isn't defeated. The direwolf is her sigil. A direwolf loyally follows her. Yet Arya feels nothing like a direwolf. She's a mouse. Grey, small, scared. Ineffective. Incapable. Weak. ]

[wilder]

Hmmm...

Well, you're still small. So I think start simple, maybe preparing for winter. Figure out things from there.

[persequor]

[ Our winters last years, she wants to argue. Summer was ten years long. The longest on record. Winter will be as long. We stockpiled provisions in Winterfell from every harvest, but they must all have been destroyed or stolen. Queen Cersei is still looking for my sister and me. There's no one we can trust.

But that's not right. There is someone. Jon is at the Wall. The Lord Commander. Women aren't allowed at the Wall, but she can pretend she's a boy if she must. And Jon won't turn her away. Jon who used to muss her hair and call her "little sister." A frail ghost of a smile appears at the memory. ]

If I can make it to the Wall, I'll be safe. I can see Jon again.

[wilder]

[yeah Catelyn already told him about that long winter. It sounds like absolute hell to him. But it doesn't change things. She'll have to prepare or she'll die. And there's too much fight in that girl to lay down and die]

Make it to the Wall. Sounds like a reasonable plan to me.

[persequor]

[ To make it to the Wall she first needs to find a way out of King's Landing. At every gate, they will be looking for her. The ship her father had hired to take them all North had the guards and sailors replaced with Lannister men dressed in Northern garb. Even if she could make it out of the city, she still had to cross the Riverlands before she reached the North. The North is a huge expanse of woods and streams and hills she must cross before she reached the Wall.

The trip had taken them a month by carriage. On horseback, it would be shorter and Arya knows she is an excellent rider. Half-horse Harwin had once called her. But that still left her open through hundreds of miles. Children don't usually travel alone. She'd attract attention, which means she'd have to avoid the King's Road. The way would be longer yet.

Her mother's father and brother were in Riverrun. Mayhaps they might help her? But she had never met her grandfather or uncle. Unlike her trueborn siblings, Arya did not take after their mother. She has the dark hair and grey eyes of a Stark, not the Tully red hair and blue eyes. If they didn't believe her…

Sansa was in the Vale with Littlefinger. She could try there, but if she had to say Littlefinger was her real father she might tear his stupid beard off his pointed face.

No. Only at the Wall would she be truly safe.

By sea, it'd be faster. Some ship bound for White Harbor then another that would stop at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. She could find or steal a horse then and ride hard for Castle Black. But a ship requires gold and gold was the one thing she did not take with her when she fled. Everything else was stolen. The only thing of value left to her is Needle; even if she considered selling it (she never would), it wouldn't be enough.

Perhaps working off the passage? A cabin boy. Everyone always mistook her for a boy. She could pretend to be one. She could pretend as long as she had to if it brought her to Jon. ]

I'll have to pretend to be a boy. Everyone already confuses me for one. [ She tugs at a strand of her hair. ]

[wilder]

Hmmm...

[he'll turn to look at her, judging to see if it'd be possible. She's young, she doesn't have to worry about her chest or voice or lack of facial hair. Her demeanor was certainly more of a boy than a girl. ]

I could see it, a peasant boy. Cut your hair, change your clothes, get a bit dirtier....you'll pass with ease.

[persequor]

[ She eyes the ends of her hair. Her gut reaction is a loud no to the idea of cutting it. It's just hair, stupid. It grows back.

Regardless, there isn't much she can do while she's here. Everything must wait until she returns to Westeros. By then, she probably won't remember anything that happens here.

She knows so much more here—and she can't do anything with it.

Arya recalls when Jon was here and what he told her. He was two years older and he had not seen her.

A trip to the Wall shouldn't take two moons much less two years.

Could she really be dead? Sansa is convinced she isn't. Sansa says she's too important; if she had died, it would have been announced. Arya isn't so sure. If they thought she was just a baseborn boy… ]

[wilder]

[Really, he can sympathize with the hair cutting. Even when he's on the run, he refuses to cut his own bright red hair that marks his identity. But she is young enough where explaining ways to hide hair would be too much trouble - he didn't start needing to go on the run until he was a grown man with more capabilities and resources at his disposal. It's safer this way. ]

[Either way, that girl is spending way too much time fretting without saying anything.]

Whatever will be, will be. I'm not gonna say everything will turn out alright, buuut we do what we can, hm~?

You're too much of a brat to take things lying down anyway.

[persequor]

[ If I die, I die, you mean. She doesn't rise to the bait. ]

It's not like we can do anything else.

[wilder]

[Well yeah, but whatever. Beats him lying and saying things will turn out]

Not out here, I guess.

[persequor]

[ He gets a tiny lifting and dropping of a shoulder. ]

[wilder]

[He'll put a hand on her shoulder and squeeze it before pulling away. Yep. Got nothing more to say]

[persequor]

[ She tears a few more blades of grass free. Dropping them suddenly, she glares at Zelos. An imperious finger is leveled at his face. Her tone is fierce. ]

You are not allowed to die. You stay alive and well. [ For her. For his sister. Or Arya will kill him when the castle brings him back. ]

1/2

[wilder]

[he blinks at surprise a bit like that. Not only was that sudden, but you know not too many people say that sort of stuff, except you know, Lloyd]

[wilder]

[But quickly doing the smirk]

Hey, don't worry. I'm much too pretty to die.

[persequor]

[ She punches him in the chest. ]

I'm serious!

[wilder]

[Flinches]

Hey! Ow!

Fine fine! No dying anytime soon!

[persequor]

Promise!

[wilder]

[he exhales some air]

I promise I will do everything in my power to remain alive.

[he's not dumb enough to say that he'll never die.]

[persequor]

[ They're not the words she wanted to hear. But it's something. She purses her lips at him before nodding. ]

[wilder]

[Putting his hand on top of her hair, giving it a small ruffle ]

[persequor]

[ Robb was the last person to ruffle her hair. She hesitates, then throws her arms around his neck. ]

[wilder]

[Whoa got a kid on me. It startles him for a couple seconds, but he'll wrap his arms around her to return the embrace. ]