𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 || 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑪𝒓𝒚 𝑶𝒖𝒕

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 𝑰𝑰 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒄𝒕 𝑽

꧁꧁~~~𝑨𝒓𝒚𝒂 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒌~~~꧂꧂
꧁꧁~~~300 𝑨𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕~~~꧂꧂

꧁"Don't look away, Arya."

She did not look away.

"Don't look away from it."

She could hear his voice so clearly in her head, even as she faintly slept. It wasn't much. She struggled to close her eyes at night. The voices always came crawling to her door.

"Do you understand why Father did what he did?"

Opening her eyes, Arya knew she would not be getting sleep. Opening her grey-blue eyes that were Stark, Arya opened them to see she remained in the same spot she fell asleep yesterday, on the docks of the Free City of Braavos. The sky was bleak, grey and blue both melded together, creating a fog that narrowed her view of the Titan that stood tall, guarding the city.

"Our way is the Old Way.."

Arya whispered, and she can almost hear his chuckle. She could see her father with his stern, stoic look upon his face, his honorable face, and even more honorable eyes of justice. But the irony was, those eyes were never given justice, Arya knew. She could still see them in her sleep. She could see her father beheading the man of the Night's Watch. She could see her older brothers, Benget, Jon, Robb. Her little brothers, Bran and Rickon. She could see them all. She could see her mother, her father, even her sister, the one who never did like her.

Arya missed them all.

Standing up, Arya stretched a bit as she began to walk to the very end of the dock peaking out into the harbor. She watched as early morning ships did sail through the calm, still black water of Braavos. Men working on their ships in their native tongue of the language spoken hear. She didn't understand them, naught but the words he had spoken to her.

"Valar Morghulis.."

Arya whispered, gazing out with tired eyes to the water. The voices still echoed in her head, the Braavosi ones and the ones of her family. The family that was dead.

Arya knew better than to place a hope in loose ends and chances. Robb and her Lady Mother were loose ends to Tywin Lannister, she knew surely. And those ends were tied that night. That..horrible night Arya so wished to rid herself of the memory. But it was so clear..the wining of Grey Wind as he died alone in his kennel, where his master died with his family under an oathbreaker's roof and promise.

"So we're going, then?"

A voice sounded almost like a whisper from behind her, but Arya faintly paid attention. But then she did. The voice was that of Common, a language she almost believed nobody spoke in Braavos. Turning a bit with narrowed eyes, Arya spotted two figures walking slow up the docks, both had blue hair that seemed only bluer in the blue-grey hue of the sky that morning.

"We are. I already read to you the letter from Varys."

The Spider of King's Landing?- Arya wondered with furrowed brows, and she crouched behind several crates, moving closer to try and listen in on the conversation of something and someone she at least recognized.