For Want of a Better King

On the Road

On The Road

Arya

She sleeps lightly, too afraid of nightmares and revealing too much. And like the night before, she finds herself less exhausted than when she'd lye down in the first place, but not actually rested. The three boys are still asleep around her, Hot Pie snoring not quite loudly enough to wake the others. For the second time, Gendry is curled up nearest to her, taking up as little space as possible given his large frame, like he's used to sleeping on a tiny mattress, not yet used to the ample ground. With his eyes closed she's not distracted by the blue, and she can see how long his lashes are, how his ears stick out a bit, and how soft his lips look. He's a kind giant, she's officially decided. What to do with him was another matter entirely. Her father had felt responsible for him. So now she was too, especially since she couldn't seem to be rid of him anyway. And he did serve as a kind of friendly guard dog, or maybe a bull, like his helm. In actuality, a stag, but he didn't know that.

She got up to make water before the sky was fully light, taking the opportunity to unwrap her chest, scratch to her heart's content, and redo the wrapping. She also readjusted the pouch to a more manageable position. She felt her face too, it didn't hurt so much, but it was quite stiff, and still slightly swollen. She had no mirror to inspect her reflection more closely, but it was a few days in, so she could imagine it would be turning blue and purple around the edges. If she were so inclined, she might make a compress of rosemary and cinnamon to place on the swelling, but it wasn't available, and besides, she would rather slow the healing than quicken it. The ugly marks were a godsend; they added to her tough persona, reduced the chance of being recognized, and made her undesirable.

Breakfast that morning was to be biscuits and salted squirrel. A few of the older recruits were already waiting in line; she took her place, and with a quick glance back at her little group, took enough for each. The man handing out the portions looked suspicious, but told her if she was lying, she'd go without for the next few days. Hot Pie woke immediately to the smell of breakfast, and smiled as he took the shares for the three of them. He hungrily scarfed down his portion, and looked longingly at the rest. She gave him such a nasty look; hand on her sheath that he put the food down gently. She walked off satisfied; she'd already reached her quota of nice for the day.

Apparently, The Gods must have seen her reluctant good deed, because after midday, Yoren announced that her little group would have a turn riding in the wagons. Lommy climbed up fine, but Hot Pie had to scramble up. Her and Gendry watched, then looked at each other, before chuckling at the scene. Gendry climbed aboard the second wagon, and while she could have gone with the two idiots, when Gendry held his hand out to her, she clasped it and let him pull her up. While her feet were glad for the reprieve, she worried about the consequences to her sanity. Too much free time, led to too much thought. She needn't have worried though, after a few bumpy stretches of road, the sun shining down, she fell into a deep sleep.

In the dream, which she knew was a dream, she was riding on a horse, black as night, through the same King's Road. On her right, her father, alive and well, if a little pale; just the two of them. She takes in every detail, focusing primarily on his warming smile, the soft grey of his eyes.

"Will we make it home?" She asks. Though there's so much more she wants to say and ask, it's all that comes out.

"I won't, I'm afraid." And he pats his speckled mare lovingly.

"But then, where will you go?"

"Don't worry yourself yet, love. I'll ride the roads with you as far as I can." There's a particularly rocky stretch, and her horse hobbles and whinnies.