SIXTEEN

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"You're so stupid Arya!"

"No I'm not!" replied the feisty girl who had her fists clenched at her sides.

"Yes you are." answered Sansa who was arrogantly sat in the chair opposite her sister, sewing with a delicate hand

Arya looked down at her own creation and her cheeks flared with embarrassment. This was hopeless.

"What Lady," Sansa continued, "cannot sew." 

"The kind that has some sense." Muttered Arya under her breath.

Sansa glared at her, "You're so unpleasant Arya, no man will want to marry you!" She said, her eyes burrowing into Arya's.

She broke her stare and gazed off into nothingness and sighed. "I can't wait to get married. Father says he has some potential suitors for me soon, he says I will meet them soon."

"Who?" Arya asked loudly, not particularly interested.

"Will Hart." She said dreamily, "They say he's brave and valiant. And very handsome, Marie says she saw him once when she was a servant in Braavos. He was only twelve but apparently a very good looking boy already."

"Mmhh" answered Arya, already not listening.


****


Lorsa frantically knocked on Will's door, supporting Arya with her other arm.

Arya slipped in and out of consciousness, her body giving up on her and her eyelids feeling heavier by the second.

"I swear to the seven Will." Muttered Lorsa under her breath.

The moments spent at the door seemed to stretch out into an eternity for both girls when finally the door budged and a bored Will opened the door.

That expression was quickly wiped off his face as he analysed the situation before him.

"Lorsa, what are you-"

He immediately stopped dead still and he seemed to freeze for a second before regaining his composure.

"Arya!"

He ushered them both in just as Arya fell into an abyss of darkness and quiet.

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