Missing Moment from Phase 2 – Abandon: Arya's Gift
In which Arya's first Christmas without her father is terrible, but gets better.
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Almost reverently, she had removed the page, taking care not to tear off a corner. Her fingers swept over the note, feeling the depressions where the pen had written. This was her gift from her father, something for her and her alone.
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Christmas was a quiet affair that year.
The Stark family sat quietly in the living room, which was unadorned by decorations. Ned Stark had always been the one to set up the tree, got the whole family to decorate, and put the stupid plastic candy cane sculptures up on the pathway to the front door from the street. This year, however, he wasn't there to do anything, and neither his widow or children found the urge to take up this task in his stead.
Catelyn, however, had insisted on exchanging gifts on Christmas night and being together as a family.
Sansa, of course, had put forth the most effort into the night, going so far as to put on a festive sweater and making cookies, although she couldn't seem to take a bite; instead, she sat on the couch pulling lint off of her sweater. An awkward silence hung over the room as everyone pointedly did not mention Ned, and looked for an excuse to go upstairs.
Arya, in particular, wanted to go back to her room. Carouse was the word of the day, with a simple 'Merry Christmas!' written in her father's handwriting on the page. Arya felt a peculiar wave of sadness come over. Usually she enjoyed the days she found notes from her father, but knew this was one of the last ones.
After what seemed like an eternity, Catelyn gently said she was going to clean up and go to bed, which the Stark children knew was her way of telling them she wanted some time alone.
As Arya followed Bran up the stairs, she glanced back and saw her mother staring out the window as the snow blew across the sky.
Finally, she reached the door to her room and closed it softly behind her, happy to be alone and have her own memories without her mother prying and asking questions.
She sat down at her desk and reached for the calendar, now thin in her hands, but paused before her hands reached it. There was a small wrapped box with a perfectly-tied bow on top of it.
This was her mother's handiwork. No one else in her family bothered wrapping anything that well, and certainly none of them could tie a bow evenly. In fact, Sansa was the only one who wanted to learn.
Curious, she pulled the ribbon off and carefully peeled back the wrapping paper, wondering what her mother would have gotten her she didn't want to present in front of the rest of the family.
In her hands she revealed the contents of the box, and saw that it was a word-a-day calendar for next year. Suddenly, Arya felt an uncomfortable lump form in her throat, and hurriedly set down the gift, and stared at the note from her father.
With a sudden surge of determination, she pushed back her chair and went back downstairs, where she saw her mother paging through a photo album.
"Arya?" she asked, setting down the book on the couch and standing up.
Without a word, Arya crossed the room and wrapped her arms around her mother, who smoothed down her hair and kissed her on the head.
Shortly after, Arya pulled back, gave her mother a small smile, and did not mention she tears she saw forming in her mother's eyes. Neither of them spoke as Arya climbed the stairs again.
Neither of them had to.
Author's Note: So...yeah...that whole fluffier thing...apparently I had to get out one more sad moment before I got to some of the more fun stuff again. This scene isn't essential by any means, but it feels very important to me that Arya and her mother have a small moment.
Also, I swear that most of the rest of these are more along the lines of Sansa and the tampons instead of Arya and sad father moments.