#arya pov

[marlas-writing-blog]

for whatever reason i was seized by the all encompassing urge to write something so here you go ig:

[yanak324]

The Last Time: Ch. 27 is up! ❄️🐣

chapter 27: high as hope (e) (ao3)

“Have you guys even talked since you left?”

“No.”

“Maybe you should.”

There's a part of Arya that wants to tell her sister to mind her own business, but it wouldn’t exactly be fair.

For so long, her relationship with Jon was the one she never had to think about, never had to wonder about and it’s even more apparent now than ever how much she’d taken it for granted.

Maybe they both have.

Catch up here. 😘✌🏻

[chispas-and-broken-bindings]

Know the Love - Part II Update

Chapter 8: And do you feel Victorious? 

Posted on Archive of Our Own.

Arya Chapter!

Excerpt below the break:

The trees along the path, between the castle and the village, were picked nearly bare, and few but the birds were brave or light enough to go after the remaining fruit clinging to the highest branches.

"A little further." Arya strained for the small bunch of date-plums dangling just beyond her fingertips.

Elia grunted below her, "I'm pushing as high as I can. You're heavier than you look."

"And you're weaker."

With a curse, Elia heaved once more, and Arya claimed their prize, snapping the laden twig while her other hand fought against the sloughing bark of the slender branch overhead. Quickly, before she lost her grip and tumbled through the dense leathery leaves, she dropped the fruit into Elia's open satchel and shifted her weight from her friend's sun kissed shoulders.  

"Only half are fully ripe," Elia inspected the fruit as Arya straddled their shared branch, kicking her bared legs through the air.

"It's fine, I like them tart."

"You would," the younger girl tossed her a couple and Arya bit into the flesh, relishing the velvety sweet taste that puckered at the back of her tongue. She and Elia had taken Lemore to their secret swimming hole earlier in the day, and when the septa took her leave, the girls were reluctant to exchange the golden haze of the afternoon for the dark noisy halls of Storm's End.

"Did you see her belly?" Elia asked.

"It was hard to miss," Arya said. For a holy woman, Lemore was shockingly free with her body, stripping down to nought but her septa's crystal to bathe, before draping herself over a tide-smoothed boulder in the sun. Elia was equally eager to disrobe, slicing through the water in quick, confident strokes and diving from the rocks above, as graceful as a gannet. She and Arya swam together often, and when it was just the two of them, Arya relished the feel of saltwater and sun against her skin. She had sated Elia's curiosity over her scars with the briefest of explanations and their friendship had quickly turned to more pressing concerns, like which was the fastest horse in the stable and would anyone notice if they snuck away to the ruins of Summerhall one day.

If the septa spied the healed stab wounds across Arya's abdomen, however,  her violet eyes would surely mist over in concern and she'd fuss and call her dear and ruin everything. Better to swim in her shirt and bear the later discomfort of salt trapped against her skin by the linen binding her breasts. The stink of brine still clung to her, mingling with the sweet zest of the fruit.

"Well, what do you make of it?" Elia pressed, wondering about Lemore's stretch marks

"She must have had a baby," Arya shrugged, biting into another unripe date-plum with a grimace; the tannic juice dribbling down her chin. She didn't like them that tart.

"But she's a septa!"

"Isn't Tyene's mother a septa?"

"Well, she was... before my father got to her. Lemore still wears the habit."

Arya would eat her boots before she'd believe Lemore was an ordained woman of the cloth. While she was certainly faithful enough, leading the king and his court through daily worship, Arya didn't buy it. She was too free in her affections with the king; too comfortable exchanging her white robes for the colorful painted silks of Dorne, and frankly, too beautiful to be truly godsworn. Evidence of a prior pregnancy only solidified Arya's suspicions.

Footfalls along the path brought their musings to a halt, however.

[nrgburst]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Faces that you can’t see (Love is a Wild Thing, 4/5)

(T, 1879 words)

AxG week Day 5: Deja Vu

[daceytheshebear]

About Oaths and Wolves updated!

Chapter five, The She-Wolf’s Interlude

She’d been laying on the furs without closing her eyes for what felt like hours when Gendry stirred at her side.

"What keeps you from sleep?"

He held her with his strong warm arms and gathered her into his chest, but tonight this made her feel no more at ease.

"Death awaits us in Winterfell," she whispered.

"What?" His voice was raspy and slow, like it ought to be at such hour.

"That's what the Ghost said."

"The… ghost?" Gendry chuckled "you're not making sense, m'lady."

He was teasing her. That probed a slight smile to form on her lips. There was no stiff deference in the way he said the title now, and for that reason she let it slide. That, and also she was concerned about other things, serious things.

"The Ghost of High Heart. That old dwarf woman we called on on our way from the inn," Arya said into the night.

"Is that what she said? I always wondered."

read from the beginning here

[0writerchick0]

Petyr x Sansa, 7 + 47? Please? Pretty please, with a cherry on top?

Sansa paced back and forth in front of her sister.  Arya refused to be affected, focusing ongetting as much dip on a chip as she possibly could before it snapped under theweight of it.  Her hair hung around herface, shielding her from having to see Petyr’s scrutinizing look.  

He may not have been pacing, or talking, but he was grillingher all the same.  Sansa crossed her armsover her chest, “Which one was it?!”  

Arya shrugged, attempting to act nonchalant.  Sansa’s eyes furrowed, “Did you justshrug?  Seriously?  Right now, in my kitchen.  After what you just told me?  You’re saying, you don’t know which one?”

“Yes, Sansa.  Dig outyour ears, cause that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”  Arya had grown tired of feeling embarrassedand vulnerable.  Being a victim was neverher strong suit anyway.  She glanced backover at Petyr, still staring at her, analyzing her.

Elenei walked in the kitchen and froze at sight of all thegrownups paused mid-conversation, staring back at her.  Sansa broke the silence, “What is it,baby?”  

“I wanted to see auntie aerie…”  She took a couple of short steps into thekitchen.  

Arya turned in her chair, plastering a big grin on her face,“Aww, kiddo.  Sit with me.”  

“You’ve got chips!” Elenei exclaimed as she grabbed a handful and started munching on themin Arya’s lap.  

Clearly frustrated that their conversation was paused, Sansabawled up her fists and growled, “I could just–”  She paused trying to find a word Eleneiwouldn’t know yet, “strangle you.”

Arya grinned, “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”  

The tiny voice from her lap said, “You’re not supposed to sayass.”  

“Elenei.”  Petyr’s tone was one of warning.  

Elenei shrugged in Arya’s lap and then turned to Arya with amouth full of chips, “Our fish died, and it didn’t turn into a ghost.”  

“What?”  Sansa asked,confused at how the conversation had derailed.

Petyr spoke up, “I know you want to see auntie,Princess.  But Mummy and Daddy need tofinish chatting with her first.”  

“Aww, come on!”  Eleneibalked from Aryas lap.  

“Yeah!”  Arya startedto protest, but stopped when she saw Petyr’s eye raise at her.  Sansa stood beside her husband, offering thesame warning glare.  Arya looked down atElenei, “Best listen to the rents for now, kiddo.”  

Elenei looked up at her, completely betrayed, “You too?!”

“Not by choice.  Trustme.”  Arya sighed as the little onehopped down and stomped off.

Sansa cuddled into Petyr, and kissed his cheek, “Can I seeyour phone?”

Petyr dug it out of his pocket, and handed it to her.  Arya noted the lack of hesitation in doingso.  Lots of men started sweating bucketswhen their women asked to see their phones, instead Petyr used the opportunityto pull her in closer to him.  His gripon her waist was high and Arya didn’t know who he thought he was fooling, buteveryone could see him grazing the underside of Sansa’s breast with his thumb.  The man was not as subtle as he would havethe world believe.  

Arya saw the glint in her sister’s eye as she looked on thescreen and quietly giggled, “You said it wasn’t on.”

His hand slid down, grabbing a quick handful of Sansa’s assas he grinned in her ear, “’The whole time.’ I never said it wasn’t on at all.”

Sansa grinned, snuggling even further into him as she playedwith his phone.  Unable to bear itanymore, Arya cleared her throat.  TheBaelishes looked up, giving her their full attention.  Arya scowled at them, “Is this why you sentkiddo out?  Cause if so, can you send meout too?”  

“Ha-ha.”  Sansa rolledher eyes, and Petyr maintained his hold on her, offering Arya a smugsmile.  

“Then what do you want to say to me?  Seriously. Just say it.”  Arya rose from thebarstool at the counter and adjusted her pants.

Sansa pushed something on Petyr’s phone and brought it to herear.  She wasted no time on greetings,going straight for the purpose of her call, “You got her pregnant?! What were youthinking?”

Fuck.  Sansa was eitheron the phone with Gendry or Bronn.  Petyrshook his head and kissed Sansa’s cheek as she kept talking, “No.  Don’t you ‘Golden Snatch’ me!  She is by baby sister and she’s knockedup!  By someone twice her age–”

“Hey now.”  Petyrtugged her close, furrowing his brow at her.

She shook her head at him and kissed his cheek before sheturned back into the phone, “Who lives on a boat!”  

“Sometimes.”  Arya feltit only right that the facts be straight.

“Sometimes.”  Sansa corrected the statementbegrudgingly.  She then added, “Who disposes of things for people for aliving!”  

Arya didn’t understand why Sansa was so upset over the possibilitythat she may be carrying a hitman’s child. Sansa and Petyr both had their own death tolls, at least Bronn washonest about killing as a career.  Hey,why was Sansa zeroing in on Bronn anyway? “Sans, why do you think it’s him?”

Sansa scowled, “Because if it were Gendry, you’d have noproblem bringing him by to deliver the news.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong. But Arya wouldn’t admit to her being entirely right either, “Give me thephone.”  

Sansa handed it over and then turned into Petyr, shaking herhead and whispering, “Obviously, I didn’t mean anything by it.”  

Bronn’s raspy voice sounded through the phone, “So, am I adad?”  

“Probably.”  Aryaadmitted, “You bang a lot of chicks. Odds are high.”  

He laughed, “Funny. What are the odds that the bun in your oven is mine?”  

“Fifty-fifty.”  Aryaconfessed.  

“What does welder-man say about it?”  Bronn’s voice sounded light, but Arya knewbetter.  

She watched as Petyr wrapped his arms around Sansa and kissedher deeply.  Arya admired how long theyhad been together, still kissing like that. She sighed, “He says he doesn’t care whose kid it is.  It’s mine.”

“He do a runner on you?” Bronn’s tone deepened.  

Arya shook her head, “No. Opposite.”  

“Wedding bells?”  Bronnlaughed.  

“I’m not the marrying type.” Arya growled.  

Sansa’s head snapped up to attention, “Marrying type?  Who’s getting married?  You’re getting married?!”  

“Sansa.”  Petyr grippedher cheek and pulled her attention back to him. “She will be alright.  Let’s giveher some space to talk about things.”  

Arya would have thought he was being considerate of what shewas going through, but again she knew better. He was looking for an excuse to drag Sansa away, probably to thebedroom.  Anyone could see the lust inhis eyes reserved for the older Stark sister.

Bronn smiled through the phone, “Well, whatever happens, callme.  I’d still very much like to see you,Punky.”  

“Yeah?”  Arya wassurprised at how well he was taking his possible paternity.  

Sansa shook her head, “No. I’m staying.”  

Arya felt confused for a moment, thinking that Sansa wasanswering one person when really she was answering another.  Lost in the conversation she simply said, “Okay.”  

“Damn straight.”  Sansanodded her head.  

“Okay then.  I’ll be intown Tuesday next week.  We can havedinner, and a little of each other.” Bronn chuckled through the phone before he hung up.

“You really don’t know whose baby it is, do you?”  Sansa sighed, taking the phone back to giveto Petyr.  

He was about to put it back in his pocket when hestopped.  He looked up at her, a devilishgrin on his face, “So the odds are fifty-fifty?”

“Yes, why?”  Aryashrugged.  

“No reason.”  Petyrsnickered and started punching buttons on his phone.  

All of a sudden a group text sent to all the Starks flashedacross Arya’s screen.  Seeing as howSansa suddenly reached for her phone, Arya could only imagine that she wasgetting it just then too.  “Currentlytaking bets on baby’s paternity.  Odd arefifty-fifty.”  

Sansa slid a twenty dollar bill in his pocket, “My money ison Bronn.”  

“How about you Arya, which way are you going to bet?”  Petyr cocked an eyebrow at her.

Arya started to think about it.  She thought about the encounters she’d hadwith the two men, struggling still to determine who it may be.  Finally she realized what he was doing, andshe exclaimed, “Fuck you, Petyr!”

He broke out into a devilish grin and said, “Seriouslythough, congratulations.”  

[yanak324]

The Last Time: Ch. 25 is up! 🌅 💋

chapter 25: solid ground (e) (ao3)

For years, Arya lived her entire life in her memories. Going through the motions to advance her career but not doing much else. Then Sandor’s death shook everything up. Blew up the road in front of her so she had no choice but to find another one.

It took being home to realize she wanted more.

She wants more. And that includes a family that isn’t broken by secrets and pride.

Catch up here. 😘 

[yanak324]

The Last Time: Ch 22 is up!

chapter 22: wake for young souls (e)

The person staring back at her reminds Arya of the strong-willed girl who left home at eighteen and never looked back.

The girl who had a goal and purpose and saw it through. The girl who relied mostly on herself for the last ten years.

She could become that girl again. A girl with no name and no history.

The problem is she doesn’t want to.

Catch up here. 😘💜