Game of Thrones: Not So Different – Arya

Chapter 1 of a new Game of Thrones story, a sister story to Marina Ka-Fai's story Not So Different - Lancel. We worked together coming up with this idea for a double story, me focusing on Arya, her focusing on her beloved Lancel :)

So please be sure to check out Marina's story in order to see the other side of it.

Disclaimer: Game of Thrones belongs to George R.R. Martin.

Chapter 1

The room was bland, the only decorations on the walls were the cameras that watched her every move. Arya Stark lay on the bed, which was again bland, staring at the ceiling; forlorn and distant.

'Gendry, you...you saved me, but...why?' She thought to herself. 'I wanted to, I wanted to...that's why I...'

She looked down at her arms which rested at her sides, above the blanket; at her bandaged wrists. She was in a Psychiatric Institute being treated for severe depression. It had been bad enough she had tried to take her own life by cutting her wrists. Gendry Waters, one of her closest friends had found and saved her however; despite her wishes otherwise.

She sighed. 'I'm not allowed visitors yet, but Gendry was here when I woke up...He said; he said he saved me, because he didn't want to lose me. That I still had things worth living for.'

Her life had become an unbearable hell; she was always the wild child in her family. The Starks were an old and rich family, yet were still humble and kind to practically everyone, despite being high in society. Arya was the third child, the middle child of the family, the youngest girl and the only one to inherit her father's brown hair and grey eyes and long face.

She had struggled to find acceptance amongst her family, especially from her feminine mother and girly sister, she was more of a tomboy. Yet things never got out of hand or truly problematic, until recently, shortly after Arya turned seventeen.

'For some reason, Sansa started, acting out against me, we were at each other's throats. Our family never understood, things were, falling apart...and they all blamed me.' She recalled in anguish.

It had got worse and worse; with Sansa actually believing and stating that Arya wasn't really their parent's child, that she was a 'mistake'. Arya couldn't deny, despite her usual strength, that stung, that actually caused her to break down. In the end, the darkness and sadness got so bad, all she could think about was dying. All the anger and hatred being displayed towards her convinced her no one would miss her.

She recalled Gendry's words however. 'He said that wasn't true; that I still had things worth living for, people who still cared. He said he was one of them, could it, be...'

Just thinking about it made her wonder. As she wondered she looked down at her bandaged wrists again, remembered her actual suicide attempt. How she had held the scissors, the way the tears stung her eyes and made it hard to see what she was doing. Making the cuts, the blood, then the feeling of fading away, until Gendry entered.

It was then a new feeling overcame her, which actually made her feel worse.

That feeling was shame, crushing shame, over her actions.

'I'm a coward, I took the cowards way out and it's only because of the actions of my best friend that I...that I'm still here...' Her anguished thoughts tormented her.

With those thoughts holding her hostage, she almost didn't notice when the door opened and the nurse came in.

"Arya." The nurse greeted her, her manner friendly but professional. "It's time..."

Arya groaned but said nothing; all she wanted was to curl up on the bed and stay there; but the people at the institute insisted on her leaving her room, walking and spending time in the gardens. These things were never frequent, but she still found them irksome.

"I...I have to use the bathroom." She said; hoping to at least delay.

The nurse just nodded and, despite the effort, Arya got up from the bed and headed to the only other door in the room, inside was the bathroom, the only place not under camera surveillance, but also scoured thoroughly to ensure there was nothing within she could hurt herself with.

With a sigh she approached the sink; she didn't actually need to use the bathroom. Running the cold tap she splashed the water on her face and carefully dried it with the paper towels provided. She looked at herself in the mirror and cringed.

'Well, you still look like shit.' She told herself.

Being from the North of Westeros she was naturally pale, but now she was white as a sheet, she had almost purple shadows under her eyes, actually seemed to have lost weight, her cheekbones were certainly almost protruding from her face. Being so naturally skinny, that wasn't something she could afford, but it was happening.

Finally convinced to accept there was no getting away from it; Arya followed the nurse as they exited her room, about to walk down the hallway. She paused however, looking through the open door of the room next to hers. Her eyes widened as she beheld the occupant.

'I know him, it's...Gods...what's he doing here?' She thought in disbelief.

The occupant was a young man, older than her, with sandy blonde hair, emerald green eyes, he was frightfully pale, just like her, another similarity was clearly the loss of weight and the look on his face.

'So, desolate, depressed...just like me...' She noted. 'What the fuck happened to you, Lancel Lannister?'

It was indeed Lancel; the young man who had once helped his second cousin, Joffrey Baratheon, bully and torment Sansa and Arya. The young man whom Arya had mocked in return for his treatment of her. Yet seeing him now, how broken he was and how terrible he looked, she couldn't bring herself to mock him. In fact, she felt horrible seeing him like this, for one simple reason.

'It's like...looking in a mirror.'

End of chapter, hope you enjoyed it, read and review please.