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Blood Child. Wolf Child.
No one. No one.
sidebar image is an edit of the graphic made by aggressivebutterfly.
"You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you…"
Sansa Stark Meme - 1/3 Relationships // Sansa and Arya
I didn’t think anyone would come here.
Ah, what a familiar tale that was to Jaime. In the moment of passion and lust he had shared with Cersei back in Winterfell, when Robert and the rest of the men, Ned Stark himself included had gone out on the hunt. While at first, Cersei had insisted he accompany them, Jaime had remained behind. Not out of lack of desire to go, but the thought of being alone with her, after so long.. it had been far too tempting. Jaime had needed her, more than he would have thought possible. They had found a place, where never would he have thought of another appearing. The area had been abandoned, and half in ruin.. an ideal place for an adventurous boy to explore, but still Jaime had not thought to find a child straying upon them- and through a window, no less.
But such was life, filled with all sort of unexpected surprises. Jaime had done what he’d needed to in order to protect his kin, but this? While there were some similarities between the situations, still the girl was not at a risk of life or death. He would not kill her, or harm her, should she make an attack against him with the intent to harm. And even then, should he be able to.. I will not take the life of a child needlessly. He hadn’t wanted to harm or kill this girl’s brother, and even knowing the boy lived.. it did not ease the regret he felt for it. Gods, but I will not take another of Stark’s children from him, regardless of the sentiments I hold towards the man.
He hated Ned Stark, certainly. For reasons perfectly acceptable in his mind, and entirely justifiable. The opinions of others did not matter. The thoughts of how honorable Stark was, while Jaime himself was a tainted and foul thing in comparison, despite the white cloak he wore.
If only the truth were known, though never will I speak of it. Aerys’ secrets.. were Jaime’s secrets now. As they had been since he was a boy of seven and ten. A boy.. who had been made to make a choice any of his age should have not. A king, or a city and his own father.. Any faced with such a choice might have hesitated, more so than he had.
Is that what she felt, then? When facing Joffrey, and what he was? Jaime knew the two things were so vastly different, but to a child such as she.. She did believe she had been protecting her friend, and he too had something he’d needed to keep safe.
If Cersei could hear his thoughts at the time, she would think him mad. And perhaps he was beginning to do so, if he looked upon any Stark with anything but disdain for them.
"Practicing," he repeated softly. It was almost a shame, that she needed to do so alone, in this place. But there were many who would not understand the allowance of her wielding a sword, which gave cause for the lack of a companion and sparring partner. As a squire, he had relied much upon the facing of an opponent to further his abilities, so for her to be without.. it would only take her all the longer to learn, if she truly meant to gain any skill with the blade.
"Such is not something one should do alone.. Have you an instructor, girl? Or a partner, perhaps?"
Arya kept her attention focused on the lion before her with the careful and weary eyes of a wolf. Her father had warned her to be careful and being in the kingslayer’s presence wasn’t the greatest start to upholding her promise. Still, the man had not done anything to warrant such fear from the young girl. His eyes lacked the brimming hatred his sister so proudly possessed, but Arya wasn’t fooled - or perhaps she had simply grown far too paranoid. After what happened to Micah and Lady, she felt she had a right to be.
Sansa blamed their lord father; but mostly Sansa blamed her as if Arya had started the entire bloody ordeal. But it was Sansa who had lied. If only her sweet sister had told the king the truth, Micah might still be alive, Lady too. It was unsettling; how blinded her sister was. One day, would she forget the north in her veins and become a lion? Mayhaps that would be better. Arya would prefer some time away from her sister.
Sansa could pretend to be a lion all she wanted. Arya Stark was a wolf and she would behave as such. Her eyes watched the man’s carefree movements, waiting for the beast to pounce, and when he never did, she was a bit surprised. Reluctantly, she lowered her guard, just a bit, face scrunched slightly with suspicion and tilted her head. She watched as his expression smoothed over from consideration to skepticism and Arya sighed softly, halfheartedly dropping the wooden edge of the blunt sword into the ground. It hit the dirt with a heavy thunk.
Such is not something one should do alone..
His words were not expected, and the slight disbelief showed plainly in her expression. Her lips parted - only to snap close as she decided the proper way to respond to his comment. How strange. Narrowing an eye, she angled her head to the side, suspiciously. “You aren’t going to lecture me?” she inquired, wild wisps of brown hair hanging in her face. “Go on,” she goaded with a frown, “Tell me how a lady should be perfecting her needlework and curtsies.” Gods knew she was horrendous at both.
There was a smidgen of respect that developed because of his words however. Gratitude, that he did not shrug her off, and this appreciation distracted her from her detestation. But, he was still a Lannister, which meant she couldn’t be completely honest with him. He asked if she had a partner, and Arya was quick enough to know that Syrio must be kept a secret.
Jutting her chin into the air, she smirked and shook her head proudly. “I don’t need a partner!” She quickly continued, almost conversationally. “I learned how to shoot a bow all by myself and now, I’m even better than my brother, Bran.” The pride slowly dissipated though when she mentioned her brother, the color draining from her face. She did her best to shake it off, unaware that her brother’s assailant was standing before her.
"Although," she quickly tried changing the subject, chewing on her lip and glancing down at the sword gripped between her hands. "This is much harder.”
Syrio had already taught her so much. Every day - even days when lessons weren’t scheduled - Arya was out training. After this, she was planning on chasing a few cats. There was a rather quick black one roaming about the castle that always managed to slip passed her. The child wanted to share stories with her company (Syrio says this, and Syrio says that) but she held her tongue.
Cross my heart and hope to die,
I’ll see you with your laughter lines.
A ghost of a smile played on his lips. “I’m glad”, he simply said. Rickon’s Tully blue eyes observed his sister. He had a look of concern etched upon his face. “Is something troubling you, dear sister? Mayhaps I can lift the burden off of your shoulders. You need not have to suffer alone anymore, for we are thankfully reunited.”
Silence settled between them, but it was he who spoke first, sensing there was something behind her sullen mood. When had Rickon grown to become so perceptive? Grey eyes glanced away from torchlight, finding his and for a while, she had nothing to offer him but more silence. She was not one who liked to talk about such things. The memories… they were not kind.
"I-," she paused, struggling to produce the words. "You wouldn’t remember; you were too young…" Aye, but she had not been. "This was the day our father was stolen from us." Those many years ago. The day would forever be etched into her memory.