good dirt | arya stark

one: leilani waters

  PRESENT DAY

   Irene walked through in peasant clothing, her head down and her light hair pulled away from her face as she pushed past the bodies of sweaty, rank people. Kings Landing was the place where she was supposed to be the happiest and learn the most, and for a while, it lived up to her expectations. But she never thought that she could go from admiring a person like Cersei Lannister to hating her, not in thirty minutes. She wanted to stop and cry, she wanted to end her own life, she wanted to pray. But she knew that the further she got from Kings Landing, the better.

   She got rid of her rose based outfits, got rid of her flower crown that she characteristically wore. Anything that would have given away the fact that she was a Tyrell, she buried in the life behind her. Everything but the simple silver band that her grandmother had made for her, with the words growing strong engraved onto the side that went onto her finger. Slowly but surely, she was becoming someone else.

   She walked slowly, without purpose. She had no purpose left. She had no reason to walk, no reason to run, no reason to even fight. She wished that she was in the Sept of Baelor when it blew up, and she wished that she had died with the rest of her family. But she couldn't afford to cry now, she couldn't afford anything at the moment.

   She was soon in the outskirts of the shit world of Kings Landing, and she couldn't have felt happier. She wanted to smell the fresh air, she wanted to be back at home, in High Garden. But she knew she couldn't go back home, back to her grandmother. It was too predictable, and there was no way that the Lannister army wouldn't be marching for the Reach anyways, which would be easily sacked. She wanted to see Olenna again, but there was no point in them both dying. There was no way she could go anywhere that was safe, and that made her want to give up even more.

    She walked on foot, slowly going north. She was malnourished, she was suffering, and she was hurting emotionally more than she ever had in her life. Irene was usually the pillar of the family. Not because she was the emotional support, but because she was the logistical one,  because she was the realist of all of them. She thought for them when they couldn't anymore, planned for Loras's battles when he became too weak to think of harming another man, and finished Margaery's speeches when she couldn't think anymore from all of her stress. She was the pillar, but she didn't realize how much life that a pillar lost once the things that it held up left. There was no use for a pillar anymore.

   "I hate Cersei Lannister." She whispered, walking alone, trying to find water, a village, anything. There was no one in the world that hated Cersei Lannister more than she did, and that was a fact. She knew it. It burned deep in her soul, it burned more than it should have. Nothing came between Irene and her goals, but if she could've picked between becoming the ruler of the world or slitting Cersei's throat, she would think twice.

                                           §

   So many days passed that Irene lost count. It could've been months, and she would never know. She fell into a spout of depression, something growing as wild as the rose she once was. Her feet hurt, and she was the skinniest she had ever been. Her stomach growled, but not as much as she thirsted for water.

   Irene heard a low murmur in the forest, and her ears perked up to the sound of voices in the midday. She hadn't heard anything like that in so long. Where there was people, there was an abundant amount of food. Her legs dragged her to the noise, which grew louder. Her nose smelled bread baking, something that made her eyes water. Her blistered, dirty feet went faster on her skinny legs until she nearly fell against the door, her weak fingers grasping it. She opened the door, and all eyes fell on her momentarily before the people went back to business, which was laughing and talking rather obnoxiously.