╳ ┊❛ arya.
looking at lyanna’s face – so much like her own, down at the bones,
and yet coloured in painted accoutrements that look like they feel more
of an obligation than a choice – arya feels as though she has half a
hundred questions and doesn’t know where to start. does she drink
rye whiskey snuck from the liquor cabinet? does her heart sing in her
chest when the moon rises in a cloudless sky? does she taste splashes
of blood in her mouth in her dreams and wake not quite knowing where
she is? does she fight and scream and smoke and spit and curse? does
she always want more, more to feel, to see, to know, to live, to be? does
she want to travel every corner of the world and know it like her own body?
does she ink her skin, under her clothes? does she push and stretch and
challenge and feel like she’s never enough for herself? ( never enough for
anyone? )or is the pretty dress and the perfect make-
-up and flawless hair the real lyanna?not that arya would hold it against her if it is – it’s not for her, but
she’s not going to tell lyanna not to do something that makes her
happy – but she wouldn’t be able to deny the disappointment, for
all that the yearning for a kindred spirit is fierce and almost desperate
in a way that very nearly frightens her.nearly. she isn’t scared. not of lyanna, not of anything.
and if she is, she fights that, too, spits in the face of
death and splits her knuckles punching in fear’s teeth.
not today.her bones move under her skin as she walks like wild things
aching to rend the flesh and shed the girl guise, idle thoughtless
habit cracking rusted iron knuckles first one hand and then the
other, but animal pacing is disrupted by lyanna’s assertion.
meaning to come find you. for what? arya has her own ragtag
lot of friends – though most of them don’t attend the school
proper, and rather live in the poorer streets around its outskirts
– and she knows they put up with her, at least ; she isn’t alone.
but she knows, too, the sort of girls lyanna hangs out with, and
wolf pack or not, arya knows damn well she isn’t of their ilk. too
hard, too hungry, too kind, too mean, too messy, too raw, too
smart, too intense, too much.the kind of girls lyanna befriends would be ashamed to be
seen with her, much like sansa and jeyne had been when
they were young, and family or not, it gives her pause. what
do you want from me?‘ i want them to leave me alone, ’ arya corrects, not
unkindly, but unmistakably pointed and wry – warm
of heart, but she can’t remember ever having been a
gentle person. lips twitch, half embittered hollow point
diversion. ‘ don’t worry. i won’t tell your friends you talked
to me, case they think you caught something. ’
’ friends ’ she says && lyanna laughs. tosses her head back && opens maw wide. a strangely sweet low sound. booming, almost too big for such a small girl && slim hands clap, hold on to each other. loose punctuation absently forged. it is not a laugh for polite company, not a sound let loose in those dreadful events unless it gets dragged from her breast by skilled hand. she can count the amount of those in this school who have heard this sound on one hand && still have fingers left over. few graced by stark girls true mark of mirth. that cousin draws it forth ?? unsurprising.
❛ friends ?? ❜ she speaks though rolling shoulders, still quaking form. no intent to be rude ( you would know right away if there were. she does not hide it. ) && she fights to stifle, to calm. cares little for attention gained, goes tempted to raise a hand && flash them single lifted finger. just barely refrains. doesn’t trust any of them to not go running to a faculty member && she’s still on thin ice after her last school. ❛ they’re not my friends, arya. business connections. you ken ?? one day we’re gonna be out in the world on our own, running business’ of our own. they’re gonna need me or i’m gonna need them. all there is to it. ❜ she wouldn’t be surprised if half of their fellow students thought poorly of her behind closed doors && that’s more than okay. she feels the same. ( she’s never been fond of plastic. ) judge her all you want but lyanna stark knows how to play the game.
&& she feels as if she’s being judged. cocks her head, does not hide her stare. when was the last time she talked to a true friend ?? before the almost scandal ?? in that period of time between this school && the last ??
she rubs her eye, is careful not to claw it out accidentally or otherwise. heaves a sigh. laughing has left her deflated in a way that broadcasts her sharp edges, draws them out && though she’s never really hid them they are frighteningly blatant for a moment. ( in this moment she aches for a fight. aches for someone to touch her without asking so that elbow can go thrown. fist can swing. maybe add a new scar to the collection. she will fill herself back up with violence in a way this academy never will. knows its no use. ) a whiplash child. tongue probes teeth before settling on sharp canine. presses against the edge before disguising the motion with absent lick of chapped lips.
she offers a smile. re-inflates herself on desire for familial affection. she is a simple creature. more often than not, if asked, lyanna will say everyone here can go to hell. no connection between her && them besides money && shared education. she does not want to say the same of arya. wants some sort of thread between them beyond their name. wants to learn about her, will take anything she wants to give. doesn’t know how to ask && so she doesn’t. she has no doubt she is dangerous, herself. steel skeleton && fur hidden beneath flesh, hot blooded. that precarious mix of well trained && street fighter. something tells her arya is even more so.
❛ anyways … if you want them to leave you alone, tell them. tell ‘em to fuck off or something. usually works. i mean … what are they gonna do ?? tattle on you ?? try && start a fight ?? i have a feeling you can kick anyone heres arse. includin’ my own && that’s saying somethin’. ❜ she winks, single hand spanning distance ‘tween them to pat the other on the shoulder blade as if she were coming from a sports field. two hard hits followed by soft slide as hand goes dragged back to her side. ( something tells her that she does not need to play soft with arya stark. that she might end up treating her like her brothers if she’s not careful. )
❛ ’course, if you do get in a fight, say the word && i’m there. ❜ she does not fight for fun. does not fight without cause. rarely lifts a fist for herself, an internal, hardwired cage. but without a doubt she would come running if need be. this is family && lyanna would let herself get absolutely shredded for family. anything for the pack.