A/N: I just read a Dance With Dragons. PM me if you're a spoiler hound and you want to know what happens. Changing topic: Presenting, once again, Arianna Stark! (Sorry. I couldn't resist!)
After I've beat my head against a wall a few times, Theon's bastard sister comes in to tell me the feast starts soon. We've kept her as a servant. I feel sorry for her. Theon always avoids her.
But enough about other people's problems. I have to marry a bloody idiot/evil child/ugh/weasel! Who cares about being Queen? Well, Sansa, I guess. Arya's the one with common sense.
But she doesn't have to marry him.
There's only one benefit to this arrangement. I get to be closer to the Kingslayer.
I throw a dress on and head to the feast. Outside the door, Joffrey (weasel!) takes my arm, and we walk to our seats. Out of the corner of my eye I see Theon and Robb pointing at me and laughing.
I shoot a rude gesture at him, which causes Sansa to gasp, Theon and Robb to crack up, and Arya to ask "What does that mean?" eagerly.
"You're very amusing." the weasel says.
"Glad I could be of service." I mutter back sarcastically.
He grabs me by the wrist and says, "Address me as Sire."
"Yes, Sire." I reply.
How could he get so worked up about titles? I shudder. A man like that should be locked up. Soon.
Joff's uncle, the Imp, grimaces at me. Jaime looks amused, and Arya makes a face.
Thank God for Arya.
The Queen is hissing in Father's ear angrily. If I knew what the hell her problem was…
Three words: Worst. Situation. Ever.
Joffrey tries to kiss me on the cheek. I hiss at him, which startles him.
"Faolan, to me…" I say, trying to call my direwolf. And then I realize: 1. She's outside. 2. If Joff gets hurt, that's it. Actually, I might bite him to get out of this…
And then the thought fades, because really, who bites other people? And God, Theon would just smile.
I hate him. I really do.
But that's not the point. My. Life. Is. Ruined.
I pull my lips back and hiss again.
I hate my life.
A/N: Be good little direwolves and review!