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ｓｉｘ ° ᴀᴜᴅɪᴏ.
Has anyone seen an ice dragon?
[ musing, seemingly to herself, atop her bed. nymeria's head and forepaws are pillowed on arya's thighs and belly. she brushes the sleeping direwolf's neck. ]
There’s a story of a girl who was born during winter. The cold was so terrible it stole into the house and past the great fire her father had built and it crept under the blankets piled high on the birthing bed. It killed her mother, but not her. She was born blue and cold but alive and winter was inside her.
[ children of winter. a fairy story. but arya is a northern girl — no, a woman, now — and though she has not seen winter yet, it lives in her bones. ]
She loved everything about winter. The cold and the grey skies. Making enormous snow castles that turned to hardest ice overnight and playing with the ice lizards that swarmed out of the snow, but she loved nothing half as much as she did the ice dragon.
It came to her when she was very young. She could pet it without burning her hands from the cold. And one day, she got to ride it.
She didn't tell anyone, though. No one had ever tamed an ice dragon, you see. Anyone who'd gone close would be found the next day a block of ice. And it was her secret anyway.
One day, when summer had come and winter was still a long ways away, other dragons, fire breathing ones, came with their riders. She hid and she thought she would die but her ice dragon came to her even though it was summer and ice dragons never come in summer. Even though she wanted to leave and be with her ice dragon in a place where it's always winter, she couldn't leave her family to die. And the ice dragon loved her so much it stayed and battled the other dragons and their riders and it froze them all and it won — but its wings were melted and it was felled.
[ arya takes her time running her fingers through her wolf's long warm fur. nymeria continues to nap, and arya finishes her story. ]
She ran inside the house and freed her family, but when she went back outside, where her ice dragon had been was only a pond of always cold water. She saved her family, but no one believed her. No one had ever tamed an ice dragon, after all.
It's only a story, [ she continues, her tone as even as it had been through the narrative, ] but I always hear of weird animals in other places. Mayhaps someone knows of one like it. The only true ice dragon we have is a bunch of stars: follow the tail and you'll go south but if you chase its blue eye, you'll find north.
[ find home, she means. but there is no ice dragon here either. perhaps it is only meant to live inside the stories old nan spoke in winterfell. ]
[ musing, seemingly to herself, atop her bed. nymeria's head and forepaws are pillowed on arya's thighs and belly. she brushes the sleeping direwolf's neck. ]
There’s a story of a girl who was born during winter. The cold was so terrible it stole into the house and past the great fire her father had built and it crept under the blankets piled high on the birthing bed. It killed her mother, but not her. She was born blue and cold but alive and winter was inside her.
[ children of winter. a fairy story. but arya is a northern girl — no, a woman, now — and though she has not seen winter yet, it lives in her bones. ]
She loved everything about winter. The cold and the grey skies. Making enormous snow castles that turned to hardest ice overnight and playing with the ice lizards that swarmed out of the snow, but she loved nothing half as much as she did the ice dragon.
It came to her when she was very young. She could pet it without burning her hands from the cold. And one day, she got to ride it.
She didn't tell anyone, though. No one had ever tamed an ice dragon, you see. Anyone who'd gone close would be found the next day a block of ice. And it was her secret anyway.
One day, when summer had come and winter was still a long ways away, other dragons, fire breathing ones, came with their riders. She hid and she thought she would die but her ice dragon came to her even though it was summer and ice dragons never come in summer. Even though she wanted to leave and be with her ice dragon in a place where it's always winter, she couldn't leave her family to die. And the ice dragon loved her so much it stayed and battled the other dragons and their riders and it froze them all and it won — but its wings were melted and it was felled.
[ arya takes her time running her fingers through her wolf's long warm fur. nymeria continues to nap, and arya finishes her story. ]
She ran inside the house and freed her family, but when she went back outside, where her ice dragon had been was only a pond of always cold water. She saved her family, but no one believed her. No one had ever tamed an ice dragon, after all.
It's only a story, [ she continues, her tone as even as it had been through the narrative, ] but I always hear of weird animals in other places. Mayhaps someone knows of one like it. The only true ice dragon we have is a bunch of stars: follow the tail and you'll go south but if you chase its blue eye, you'll find north.
[ find home, she means. but there is no ice dragon here either. perhaps it is only meant to live inside the stories old nan spoke in winterfell. ]
voice;
no subject
You can come when you like.
[ she'll kick bran out so he doesn't get jealous if she has to. ]
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Whenever I like? Are you certain?
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I can't stop a king from doing what he wants.
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Then it please me to come knock on your door, within the hour.
[ because lbr, robb's always pleased when arya's socializing. ]
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[ and then she makes the king in the north her personal server. ]
action.
You didn't say please.
[ more teasing than chastising. ]
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I didn't have to. [ after taking her first bite, she eyes the bundle. ] Is that my gift?
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[ the starks should have tried harder to teach her table manners. alas. robb's picking his battles, mostly trying to make sure she isn't stabbing lannisters left and right. ]
I'll give it to you if you say please.
[ this is totally teasing, he didn't bully gendry into making a morningstar for nothing. [
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arya lays her cookies aside and sits up. nymeria, who hasn't moved from the bed, smells the cookies then turns her nose away from them. ]
What is it?
[ arya clasps her hands over her chest to keep from snatching it from him. she bites on her lip, a little smile forming.
she forgets to say please. ]
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It's something useful.
[ the only kind of gift one gives up here. the only kind of gift robb would give to arya, who had no use for anything beautiful. ]
You must promise to use it responsibly.
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[ she has no idea what it is except that robb is giving it to her. that is enough for her to almost stumble over the words in her eagerness to get them out. arya holds her hands out for it. ]
Please!
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[ he's careful where he sets it, how he guides her hands to hold it. the cloth catches and pulls at the spikes. it's not much of a disguise, but robb did what he could. ]
Carefully.
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Gendry made this! [ initially she looks ready to march to the forge and hit gendry with it. ] He never said!
[ he never said because it was a surprise, she reminds herself. cradling the morningstar carefully, she smiles gratefully at robb. ]
Thank you! [ fascination lights her face when she studies her new weapon again. another thought has her biting her lip. ] I don't know how to use it though…
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He kept it secret at my request. I wanted to surprise you.
[ and it does gendry credit, that he'd kept robb's secret. ]
I know a little of how to use it. Not as much as my bannerwoman did.
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Your bannerwoman?
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[ surprise yo. ]
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[ it's like taking the heroines from her favorite stories and making them real, making them better. ]
I never heard of them. [ being part of robb's forces, she means. ]
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[ and there would be, but not the ones robb assumed. ]
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And they fought with this?
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[ arya you have no idea. ]
Perhaps we will be fortunate, and someone on board knows better how to wield them than I. I imagine there's more to it than simply swinging it at one's enemy's head.
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Like there's more to swords than sticking someone with the pointy end.
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[ softly, robb's tone incredibly fond. and maybe proud even. this isn't what anyone had wanted for arya, but robb looks at her and cannot think of anything but how proud he is of her. ]
Does it please you?
no subject