#aurqilea

----- “ NOT BAD FOR A HALFLING “ fili says, admiring the dagger that had just been thrown slightly too far left of the bullseye. he is impressed, as even bilbo had been slightly awkward in his first attempts of using a dwarvish weapon. “ relax your body a some more - you are tense. “

        ❝  What brings you to Winterfell, my lady? ❞          Ever since the Boltons had been defeated more visitors had traveled to Winterfell to meet with and swear allegiance to their new queen. Most, if not all, had been former bannermen of her brother who were now her bannermen. None had looked like the woman before her now. She had no SIGIL to declare allegiance to any house and her name was entirely unfamilar. A traveler perhaps, but that description didn’t seem to fit either. 

                      “ where to ? “ brienne asked , her helm tucked underneath her arm as she brushed away the hair from her neck . 

SUFFER WITH ME KENNA

but her moment of shock quickly evaporated, and her face went white. as she bobbed an awkward curtsey, she felt her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment.    “  i’m sorry, milady... shall i take them away then?  ”   she may have remembered her duty, but even still she could not hide the twinge of disappointment in her voice.

Her touch was feather light, running over marred skin. At one point in time he knew all the stories behind them all. Though that had been years ago, now there were simply too many for him to remember them all. Too many years, too many battles, one time too many he had done something stupid. “Are you going to ask that question for all of them?” he asks teasingly, a smile brightening gray hues. “Because if so you and I will be here all day.” There’s a soft chuckle as he leans over, propping himself on an elbow. “But that one was I think from an arrow, or maybe a sword, I can’t exactly remember.”

        oh, how those words pierce her through! and how very still she goes, a soft-flanked creature in sight of a hunter’s arrow. she is both pierced and waiting, hurt and hopeful. debating whether she should run or simply remain still as the shadow of a tree, where perhaps the hurt might pass over her when he speaks of nightmares. for what else can he mean, when he says he dreamed of her? what else can he mean but dreams of screams and blood and death, and music played to drown it all before bed-chamber doors? in the flicker of the firelight she looks up, turns soft brown eyes upon the man who is still her husband and still so much a stranger. the father of the baby sleeping in her arms and the one with most cause to hate her. “i fear to ask what it was,” she admits, almost in a whisper, turns her gaze back to the sleeping baby. “i....i wish you only good dreams. and i fear all chance of me in those has vanished.” 

ALL SHE DOES IS WANTING,  it seems she cannot stop. she wants the cold desert air on her skin and the scalding heat of afternoons spent in sunspear.  she wants to undo her mistakes,  she wants to prove to her father that she can be his equal,  his heir,  she wants the warmth of Tyene’s embrace around her once again  (  oh,  how she hates to let her go  !  ).  Arianne wants and wants so much,  because she is tired of losing, it is finally time she gains instead.  the princess fears that if she opens her mouth she will never stop talking,  so she delays her answer,  pulling the coat tighter around her frame.  yet Arianne has no need to dwell on it too long,  for there is indeed something that she desires above anything else,  at present. «  I want all of this to be over soon.  »    she wants to go home,  in other words,  although she hopes to make it sound less childish than that.