asdaskfjqsflerjsmtler so I'm sorry it took so long to write and post! i've got several massive schol projects piling up and it's so stressful ekjrwth I will try to post more often, but seeing as school is becoming more and more busy, I can't post as frequently, but when I do, i'll try to post more in quality and quantity x
leave reviews and enjoy lovies! x
Ned was on the ground, kneeling in his own tears as he tried to hold himself together. A gentle palm had lightly brushed his back; it was small and he could feel the roughness of the hand through his thin shirt. It was the hand of Tyrion. The little man he had almost killed was now comforting him. It was a strange world.
Tyrion was in shock. Ned had simply dropped him, not because he felt cruel, but because Ned had no more strength in this world. All the anger that had filled him moments before had turned to grief, a grief that hid behind anger before peeling away and revealing itself.
He felt awful for the Stark. Arya was a well-loved girl, and she was her father's daughter. Ned loved his daughter with a fierce love and was extremely protective of her, despite her own objections to it. The once strong Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell was now on the ground, in tears, because he had lost a friend and a daughter. Tyrion could never imagine losing someone like that, then again, he's never had someone he loved as much as Ned loved Arya.
Tyrion knelt down next to Ned, and offered him support only another man could, a soft pat on the back and reassurance that his daughter would return, and he would assist him with all the power he had.
Footsteps were ringing down the corridor, which belonged to Catelyn Stark. She took one look at the situation and knew her deepest fears came true; her daughter was missing. She walked over to her husband, and just like him collapsed in tears and anger.
"Cat, I'm so sorry Cat," whispered Ned, his voice hoarse and dry with the anger of his tears. He held her tightly in his arms, afraid that if he let go, she'll go missing too. He would not be able to bear the pain of losing Cat.
Robb and Jon soon arrived after their mother. Jon shot a quick look at their father, and Ned nodded. The answer was clear. It was time to go hunting.
"Oh my sweet darling, I've waited so long for this day," cooed Ramsay, whose fingers were gently lacing around Arya's petite silhouette, looking for any curves and crevices he had not seen from afar.
The gown was thin and bare, and Arya could feel his touch circling around her body. His fingers were cold and hoarse and wrong. They were not meant to go around her body; her body belonged only to Gendry and to no one else.
"It seemed to long ago when I first saw you, a faded memory that will always resurface," he remarked, and Arya suddenly felt his touch was gone, and realized he was now circling her, like a vulture, waiting for it's meal.
"The first time I saw you, I had never felt more alive. You were perfect, and no man could not look at you," he continued. Arya had no idea what he was talking about. This memory of his, was it even real? Or was it fabricated in his mind, just like every other thing he'd been saying. The boundary between the truth and imagination did not exist within Ramsay's mind, and that frightened her.