Back To Winterfell || Arya Stark

As If She Was Made Of Ice

Arya was still eyeing the dagger turning it delicately in her hands when Bran turned and spoke to her again. "Was he your friend?" Arya looked up, sheathing the blade and studied him for a moment, puzzled.
"Was who my friend?" She asked hesitantly. Bran's face remained emotionless, but his head tilted to one side ever so slightly.
"Jaek." Arya's breath hitched and her lips parted with shock. She blinked and stood as if she was made of ice. She felt lost for words.
"I—. He was just traveling with me." It was true, she would never have described them as friends, and yet somehow she liked him. She told herself it was ridiculous to trust someone so quickly, but she knew why it was. He helped and defended her, that much was true, but in all the time they were together he had not once lied to her. Even Sansa had lied in their first conversation. He was just a boy. She thought scolding herself for her feelings. But the burden off his death still felt heavy on her shoulders. She wondered whether he might have escaped had she not been there. All of this happened in her mind so quickly she simply stood and said nothing.
Sansa could see her sister was distressed even thought she was trying to hide it. "Come." She said to Arya as gently as she could without trying to upset either of them. She was being cautious, she did not know who they were anymore. "You are probably in want of some food and a wash." She glanced Arya up and down quickly. "And some fresh garments." She added. The torn leather weeping over Arya's back. Arya nodded slowly. "Don't worry, I won't make you wear a dress." Sansa jested, trying to lighten the mood. But Arya simply followed her with a placid face as she walked silently, her feet hardly touching the snow.
Behind them Bran's eyes flickered to white and he became still. I need to learn to see better if I am to be of any use. He thought. Before the Long Night comes again.
The two girls wound their way through of the Godswood past the twisted trees retracing their steps by following the crumpled snow. "I'm sorry he's dead. He must have meant something to you." Sansa said after a bit. Arya's head shot up and she glared at her. "I didn't—" Sansa started.
"He didn't mean anything to me. You don't understand and you never will." She lashed out. "I don't have anyone who means anything to me. I'm not Arya Stark anymore."
"Well who are you then?" Sansa asked angrily.
"I'm No One."
"No one? Do you think you're being funny? And that this is some sort of
game? I am not a child anymore for you to play games with. I know what it is to be a woman. And I have the scars to show for it. You're not the only one who has had a terrible childhood. So you should stop acting like you are alone still." She stopped for a moment to catch her breath. She didn't know why she had got so angry. She looked back at Arya guiltily, hoping she would not be angry.
      But Arya was staring at her with sad eyes, her mouth slightly open. She had her fingers clenched tightly on her new dagger so that her knuckles whitened. Sansa bought for a second she might draw the dagger and slit her throat. "I—,"
"Who?" She asked, her eyes seeming to darken.
"Sorry?" Sansa asked.
"Who hurt you?" She asked again, her voice unwavering. Sansa realized what she meant.
"They're dead now." Sansa said quickly, remembering the screams as the blood ran down his fingers and the hounds tore apart his face as if it were cloth. Arya's grip relaxed slightly.
"I'm sorry." Arya said quietly, "It was selfish of me to assume." She did not necessarily mean it, but she knew it's what needed to be said.
"It's alright. But we need to trust each other now."
"I'm Winter we must protect ourselves." Arya said looking back into the trees, "Look after one another." Sansa shadowed a smile.
"Father." She said longingly. "When snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives." She said looking up at the crystal blue sky. "I miss him." She whispered. Arya looked up as well.
"Me too."