𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑰𝑰𝑰

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𝐴𝑟𝑦𝑎 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑘

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𝐴𝑟𝑦𝑎 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑘

299 𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡
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They had called her "Horseface" when she was a child. "They" being specifically her sister Sansa. And her being a child, all but a few months ago. And now, Arya felt as though her days of childhood were long gone. She wasn't even Arya anymore. She was alone. Sure she had Gendry, that stupid armorer's apprentice who manged to piss off his master enough to send him to the Night's Watch.

The Wall, Arya thinks to herself. That's where Ben and Jon are. It was true, for all she knew. The rumors spread around like Wildfire that Ben had actually participated in the Battle of the Whistling Wood, and was the one who led the attack and bested the Kingslayer himself. A rumor, but one backed with first hand accounts, supposedly.

Arya had no doubt Ben would do something like that. She had no doubt that he and Jon would go through every Hell imaginable to save her. Even Sansa, whom spoke the harshest words to Ben ever since Arya could remember understanding words. Ben would go through Hell for her, too.

And yet if this were all true, then the war would be over in no time. From the rumors that spread, so too do the rumors that Ben and Jon went back to the Night's Watch, abandoning the war and leaving it on Robb's shoulders. And if that is the case, Arya could not help but feel abandoned in a way. That last game of Tag still hung in her mind like a painfully sad memory that would never go away. That was the last time she ever saw Ben and Jon, the last she saw Robb and Rickon, her mother, her very life. And now, Arya felt unrecognizable. Her hair was hastily cut short to match that of a boy, mud constantly coated her clothes, and she felt like she smelled as bad, if not worse than the sewers of King's Landing.

But Arya felt alone. And as she stared into the starry night sky, that fact that she was alone was never more made aware to her than that moment. She felt small. She felt weak. She felt alone.

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 || 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑪𝒓𝒚 𝑶𝒖𝒕Where stories live. Discover now