[Had Lady Catelyn Stark been less of a lady, this could have been her sword. The mother who lost three sons. Arya wonders, sometimes, if she thought she lost her daughters, too. Maybe she mourned all of them, by the end. It makes her sad. Her hand tightens on the hilt, watching as Bea pulls the sword free.
It's sharp. It's strange and beautiful. And when Arya looks up at Beatrix, she is still angry. There can be no pack, no when your pack abandons you. But it's easier, now, not to hate her too. She nods.]
spam <333
It's sharp. It's strange and beautiful. And when Arya looks up at Beatrix, she is still angry. There can be no pack, no when your pack abandons you. But it's easier, now, not to hate her too. She nods.]
I won't forget.