Arya
She had to bite back the string of insults and denial just waiting to be released. It was not fair! How could this all happen?
"Arya," her father crouches down in front of her. His hand resting on her head. "I know this seems cruel."
She doesn't answer that. Her only reply would be the frustration and glare evident on her face. Father's face grows wearied at the sight.
"As hand, I must travel for King's Landing with the king. Sansa is betrothed to the crown prince so she must travel as well."
The inexplicable obscenities she wishes to shout at her sister are overwhelming but she holds that in once again. "Then why must I come?"
Lord Eddard Stark lets out a weary sigh before looking solemnly at his youngest daughter. "As her sister, you will be somewhat of a handmaiden of hers and you will learn proper etiquette and behavior of a lady of the court."
Perplexing situations and plans come to her head. How could she escape this? Would Jon help her escape? Maybe, Thor?
"Bran will be coming with us so you will not feel that lonely," her father tries to reassure her but that does little to eliminate the crushing misery. "Robb and Rickon would have to stay in Winterfell, of course. Your mother as well. Though Thor might accompany us."
She couldn't look at her father, she didn't want to show weakness in front of father. Damn it all!
"I do hope that you can understand this," he is pleading. She can hear it in his voice.
The need to reject the idea is too great. But no. She couldn't.
"I understand, father," she dejectedly accepts.
He pats her head and lays a kiss on her forehead. A thought pops into her head. "What about Jon?"
Father freezes in mid step, eyes lowering to the floor. His hands behind his back.
"Jon has already left by that time."
The blow of those words is too painful for me to even say anything. It left a deep hole within her chest.
'Jon is leaving...'
"Why?"
A pregnant pause. "For the black."
She clenches her fists in indignant fury. This was the bloody last straw!
She stomps away from her brother to violently open the door and slam it in her rage. Her only mission now is to find her annoying beloved brother. And question him for not acknowledging to her his journey for the black.
'Jon.'
The training grounds were empty and so was his chambers. This infuriated her so.
Though the clatter of a sword hitting solid rock disturbs her thoughts. Mercury orbs search for the its source until finally she reaches her destination. The beholder of the sword stands by the Godswood, face obscured by the dark.
"Jon," she calls out.
The figure swerves his head to her direction, angling it right enough for the moonlight to hit his face.
"Arya," he answers.
She rushes to him, enveloping him in a hug. Now she could let out her rage in its finest.
Punching him felt incredibly good.
"You fool," another punch to his chest. "Traitor." A swift jab to his chin. "Liar." Mage almost socks his stomach but is stopped his strong grasp.
"Arya," there is a weariness to his voice. One she is entirely used to hearing.
"Why Jon?"
Sadness grips his face, masking it more from her sight. "Even bastards can achieve honor, Arya."
This confuses her greatly. "What are you talking about?!"
Eyes much akin to hers stare back. The same piercing silver glare of her father. Yet you could see the guarded tears. "You know what I speak of, sister."
"Do I?" Blinding fury is all that she can feel.
"You do," callused hands encompass her face, caressing it in the process.
Her eyes look down, not bearing to see her brother this weak. "You could come with us to King's Landing."
"I can't." The words just broke her heart.