three twins mingle post whoop

[nedstarksbastard]

Who: the crew of the Three Twins and whoever might decide to visit them!
Broadcast: N/A
Action: SS Three Twins
When: Just after this latest Shuffle.

[good news, folks: your engineer's not floating anymore!]

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[nedstarksbastard]

[It seems like a lifetime ago, when he last hugged her in Winterfell, when he last ruffled her hair, when he last teased her. He missed her, but he hadn't quite realized how much until now, when she's back in his arms and hugging him tight. His grip is just as tight, as if he's afraid to let her go and slip through his fingers.

The last time he heard of her--

(--I want my bride back--)

--he's not going to think about it. He blinks back the tears threatening to well, breathes out, and--with great reluctance--loosens his hold on her to hold her at arm's length. Gods, she looks so young. Gods, he has no idea how to explain any of this to her, not the scar, not the future, not the timeline.]

Look at you, you haven't changed a bit. [Jon Snow, you liar.] How was your needlework coming along, before you got here?

[aliased]

[ He sets her down and for moment, she doesn't move away from him, no way, she's afraid he'll somehow disappear before her eyes. And for a moment, she can't let go of his neck before she realizes how ridiculous she's being, she wants to prove she's older now. More mature. Or something.

She lets go and looks up at him, then that she realizing how much older he looks, even past the scars on his face. For a moment, her brow furrows as she makes her own assessment before her expression loosens and she just smiles back at him.] You look older. [ It's a tease, one that has her lips turning upwards even more. Oh, she is so glad to see him. At his question, she looks prideful.]

Father got me a dance instructor. [ She leans in conspiratorially--] But he was really there to teach me how to use my sword. [ Whatever smile that curves her lips fades as memories return, her happiness retreats.] He's dead now. They killed him. The Kingsguard. For protecting me. I couldn't save him. [ her voice quivers ] Or Father.

[nedstarksbastard]

[He feels older, most of the time, much older than his seventeen years--but not now. Now, he just feels lighter than he's felt in a while, pure giddy happiness filling his lungs, his heart. Arya's here, and safe, and not dead or hurt or worse.]

That's what happens when you're on the Wall, you get older faster. [He's had to do some quick growing up even before then, though--perks of being a bastard.

He leans in as well, and whispers in a tone just as conspiratorial:] You'll have to show me what he taught you, when I can find you a sword. [A proper one, hopefully.] Then mayhaps you might be able to beat me in a match.

[And he would be so proud to get beaten by his baby sister.

His smile fades, and he rests a hand on the back of Arya's neck to draw her in close for another hug.]

I know, Arya. [He sounds quietly sad.] About Father. And I don't blame you. [How could he? There's no way she could've saved their lord father, no matter how good she got at sticking them with the pointy end. He's just glad she's alive.]

[aliased]

[ Frustrated tears fill her eyes as he hold her close as he says he knows about father. Sansa must have told him.] I tried to save him. I tried. [ And she'd failed. She hadn't been strong enough, quick enough, clever enough. She'd learned a lot from her dance instructor but she'd been no match for Yoren's strong, smelly embrace, holding her back.] The Lannisters betrayed us... I'm going to kill Joffrey. [ There's so much venom in her voice, so much hatred. ] And Cersei too.

[nedstarksbastard]

Arya. Arya. [He can't burden her with what he knows of her fate right now, no, but his brow furrows as he pulls away again and looks her in the eyes.] It wasn't your fault, you couldn't have saved him. [Empty words, but he believes them all the same. This is Arya, and he doesn't want her to blame herself for something out of her hands.

And--he supposes he can give her some bit of good news. He lets out a breath.]

Joffrey's dead. He's been dead for some time now, for me and Sansa. [Yeah. Assure your younger sister that one of the people she wants dead is already dead. A plus, Snow.] It's--hard to explain, and you'll want to sit down for it, but for me, it's been more than a year or so since Father died.

[aliased]

A year--[ her brow furrows at the news, whatever relief she'd gotten from hearing Joffrey was dead dissipating (what is their life). ] It just happened. I just saw it. I could still hear the crowd cheering before.... before I woke up here. [ she must have fainted, which didn't seem like her. or maybe yoren knocked her out to keep from crying out.

bran had said something similar to her but she hadn't believed him.]

[nedstarksbastard]

[He nods, looks down for a moment. It's hard to believe it's been only been more than a year or so, not counting the months he's spent on this ship. It's hard to look back and not see a lifetime between the boy he used to be and who he is now.

He looks up, takes her hands in sword-calloused fingers. What is he supposed to say, he wonders, to his sister for whom their father's death is still fresh? What is he supposed to do?

He lets out a breath.]

It happens here sometimes--people remembering more than their friends or family do, when they come here. [A breath.] For all of us, you've been missing since Father died. And that, at the most, has been a long time ago. [And last he heard she had been married to Ramsay fucking Snow, but he's just not going to mention that.

He breathes out, looks down at her hands.]

I'm sorry you had to see that, Arya. [Soft, sad, and full of regret. Sometimes he wishes they could just--go back.]