NOTE: I have been on a GOT kick. Suddenly this just hit me. I thought this is what would run through her mind if she totally just lost it. (And honestly, with Arya, this it isn't that far off of a possibility.) This is based mainly off the show, with slight book references. Most of the quotes are correct. If some aren't, oh well. They are pretty close, so live with it.
Read and Enjoy. Please review. I would love to know what you think.
It wasn't enough. It wouldn't be enough until all of Westeros was drowning in blood. Only then would her rage subside. A maniacal grin took over her face.
She could see it in her mind's eye and feel it on her hands. Crimson life. Blood dripping down from her father's severed head that rested on a pike. A roar of sound of sound in her ears along with the pounding of her heart. Her sweet gentle sister screaming as if she were the one dying, pleading, begging-
-the crowd cheering and demanding her father's head-
-NONONO. Why would they do that, they didn't know him-
(Him? Was it her brother? Her father? Maybe both. Those blood thirsty beasts. How could they want someone dead that they didn't know?)
(But she wasn't any different was she? Her innocence raped and Now…a monster unlike any other, yet one that she had seen before in the laughing eyes of her families murderers rose from the ashes.)
-he was a good man! A noble one.
But he was dead.
A hysterical giggle burst forward. The same one she let loose at her Aunt's death, the one she bellowed with a feminine smile as she stood above Walder Fray's body, his throat split wide open, down to the bone-
-"They say that Stark woman's throat was cut down to the bone, her body thrown in the river."-
-A crossbow to Grey Wind. The howling silenced. The world silenced, slew Stark bannermen around her, the ground covered in that sickening crimson, the same blood she was sure now poured from her brother's direwolf. Grey Wind…Robb…-
-Frey's men riding around, Grey Wind's head sown onto her brother's head…
(A scream frozen inside her. Tears stuck behind her eyes. Her young chest burning and her head dizzy. AAHHHHHHHHH! WHY! NOOOOO-)
Soooo much blood. Yet not enough. It wasn't enough. It wouldn't be enough until all of Westeros was drowning in blood, until the corrupt and innocent both fell. Only then would her rage subside. Perhaps not even then.
(In the back of her mind, she mused darkly of what her oh so noble mother and father might think of their twisted little daughter. Then she remembered they were dead, and she wasn't. They were honorable and still died. So why what would they have thought mattered? They were dead because of their honor and trust in people, people that were evil and vile, and if they weren't would eventually become so. She was simply paying Westeros its due.)
"The Many Faced God will have his due."
-"He's not my one true god."
"No? Who's yours?"
"Death."
Arya Stark was going home.
"Arya, come with me, I'll bring you to safety."
"Safety? Where the fuck's that? Her Aunt in the Eyrie's dead, her mother's dead-
-"The Lannister's sent their regards."—
-her father's dead—
"They said they were going to kill you!
….I'm not lying."
-her brother's dead—
-"They call him the young wolf. They say he ride's into battle on the back of a giant direwolf. They say he can turn into a wolf himself when he wants. They say he can't be killed."
"And do you believe them?"
"No, my lord. Anyone can be killed."-
-Winterfell is a pile of rubble. There's no safety, you dumb bitch.
"Speak three names."
Ser Illyn. Joffery. Cersei. Ser Meryn. The Mountain. The Hound.
"The Hound. He wasn't on her list anymore. She had taken him off it."
"Why? Didn't she want him dead any longer?"
"She did. And she did not."
"She sounds confused."
"Yes. She was."
And she would give Westeros it's due. Her wrath would know no bounds, and the Stark name would live on forever in the minds of those that survive.
"What do we tell the god of death?"
"Not today."
Tomorrow.
.
.
.
.
.
"The Many Faced God will have his due. Winter has come."