sixthiterationlogs | (no subject)

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WHO: Arya Stark
WHERE: By the fountain
WHEN: December 13th, afternoon
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Arya Stark being Arya Stark, discussions of violence more than likely
STATUS: Open

It had become something of a habit. Arya would explore the strange town, and on the days when her older brothers weren’t keeping tabs on her? She’d range further. Into the woods, looking for any signs of anything off. Old campfires, ruined buildings, anything that might hint at what story this place had. Not too far yet, not with what had happened. Just enough to start getting used to what was normal, so she’d notice when things were off. While snow hid quite a bit, the lack of leaves and undergrowth currently meant she could see much more of her surroundings.

But even on days when Robb or Jon were paying more mind to what she was doing, her daily explorations took her to the fountain park. If anyone asked, she was simply hoping that other members of her family might show up. Not entirely a lie, but the knife borrowed from the kitchen hidden under her coat belied the claim, as did the dark expression she sometimes cast towards the fountain when alone.

There were specific people that if Arya saw them arrive would certainly get a hand, though that would be followed rather quickly with a knife somewhere unpleasant. There was no way she’d take any risks and if there was one Southern lady here already, who was to say more wouldn’t come? Those who meant her family harm? So no one should pay any mind to the girl scowling at the fountain like it had somehow personally offended her, hands in the pockets of the coat she wore. She wasn’t bothering anyone, wasn’t getting into trouble. Just plotting a bit of hypothetical murder, nothing wrong with that.

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Thorfinn had been walking along the river once more, looking for Bogiron, or in truth just getting away from people in general. He was making his way back to the village, his patchwork cloak pulled up to hide his golden hair. He hadn't been feeling very social since the festival of food and alcohol had happened. Just quietly doing any of the many tasks he gave himself.

What he didn't expect was approaching the fountain to see the young woman standing there. He almost felt he should recognize her, but a lot of the faces he saw in the other world he had been spirited to were so foggy since his years back home and months here he decided to ignore it. He thought about walking by without a word, but that was rather rude, so a short ways off, just a few steps away from her he stopped, reaching up with his heavily scarred hands and pushed the hood back. His long blond hair spilling down his back. He had a scar on one cheek, and despite the hair covering it he was missing a chunk of his ear on the other side of his face.

"Good afternoon." He spoke in a calm pleasant tone, his voice having a thick Scandinavian accent.

The man was one she'd seen around, but the sight of blond hair had her expression darkening ever so slightly before easing again. Not that it was surprising with how she'd been quite intently plotting against the first Lannister to poke their head out of the fountain. But he wasn't one of them, and he certainly didn't sound like them either. So she made herself settle somewhat, studying him a bit further. Scars like so many bore back home, nothing new to her, and nothing that told her anything about him beyond that he'd not had a pampered life.

"...Good afternoon." Replied slowly after a moment's thought. It cost nothing to be polite here, and was important besides. It wasn't like she could simply move on when things got dangerous, especially not with her family here. For better or worse she had to try and get along with those that lived in the town with them.

Arya wouldn't be the only one frequenting the woods, and the wildling was the cause of at least one of those old campfires. It was more often than not in those recent days that Ygritte found more comfort and familiarity out there. That's they way she was used to living, after all.

Ygritte was headed in that particular direction, in fact, with a used wooden bow and a single arrow in her hand when she passed by the fountain, noticing the girl standing there. And normally she would walk on by, but as she approached the words came out without much thought.

"Ya might be waitin' awhile." It was of the Free woman's own discovery that no matter how long people waited around for people they might know to surface, it didn't happen. "No one seems to actually see people come out of it."

The same had happened with Sansa when the met, and a few times in the other world he had been spirited away to once before. He tipped his head slightly when she returned the greeting, a faint smile offered.

"Are you new here?" He asked, trying to keep the fact that the new language was still one he was gaining confidence in. he didn't like people seeing his short comings. He knew he could have walked on away and yet he didn't move, merely folded his arms under the cloak, and yet it was easy to see where they were, and that he had a knife tucked in his belt but didnt seemed armed besides that. he was usually seen with an axe, but not this time.

"I can be patient." Replied in an easy tone, Arya turning her attention from the fountain to the woman who'd been passing through. "Got some people who I would hate to miss being able to greet should they arrive."

Surely that was an innocent statement, right? There wasn't an edge to her tone as she spoke, certainly not from this small unassuming girl. Except there entirely was, Arya was quite intent on being the first person that a few select people would see upon arriving.

As well as the last, but that was simply a technicality.

"I arrived a short while before the strange feast at the Inn." She wouldn't blame him for being armed, not in this place where there were so few people in general. There wasn't a town guard to run to when trouble arose, they had to handle things on their own.

"Just came by to see if anyone had come from the fountain yet today." Usually there were signs even if the new arrival was gone, fresh ice around the fountain from the spilling water, or still-freezing slush. Some sign for her that she needed to find out who'd come that day, to see if they would pose a threat to her siblings.

Perhaps it was an innocent statement and had Ygritte been anyone else, she likely would have taken it in the tone it was said. Yet, as she looked towards the fountain, one thing could not be missed in the way the young girl said her words. It was far too easy and lacked the emotion that would tie whomever she was waiting for to be anyone close.

Like family.

'An' would they say the same about seeing you?"

Only then did she turn her attention back to Arya with a look that almost suggested she was on to the girl. Maybe.

"They've wanted to see me for some time now." Not untrue in the least, she's heard plenty of grumbling regarding her disappearance from King's Landing. "Wouldn't want to disappoint them, would I? That would just be rude."

Tone mild, but even then she couldn't mask the hatred she felt for the Lannisters, not entirely. Chin lifting slightly at that look being sent her way, as if challenging Ygritte to say something about it. Go ahead, you're not her siblings she has no problem expressing her opinions about the Lannisters to you.

"Oh, my apologies for not introducing myself sooner." He had gotten pretty drunk that night and spent his days since working and keeping to himself. Feeling much less social since Jo and Cougar left to hunt whatever killed Karen. He had never lived in a place where town gaurds really mattered, royalty had guards and he had spent a short time years ago as a prince's guard, but all in all he mostly stayed armed for hunting.

"I would feel much bad for any who came through in this weather. They would surely be taken by illness to come through wet in this snow." His eye's shifted to the fountain. Always worried someone he knew might pop out. He still planned if his uncle's head ever came through he would drown the man before he could get out. This world was not a place for a man like Thorkell.

Thorfinn unfolded his arms, and held over one of his scarred hands. "My name is Thorfinn, and you?"

The fountain was, without a doubt, Robb's least favorite place in the whole of this inexplicable village he found himself making a new life in. Since his arrival, he had crossed through the park perhaps four times all together, too much associated with it that he'd prefer not to remember.

Yet both of his sisters had arrived one after the other with only strangers to help them from the freezing water. Thinking of Bran or Rickon or -- Gods be good -- their mother or father struggling alone into this confusing and upsetting world pricked him with too much guilt. He still could not be called a frequent visitor of the place, but he now tried to walk through everyday.

He frowned when he saw Arya, although he couldn't have articulated why -- His own dark memories of the place, or perhaps just brotherly intuition.

"And what are you doing out here?" he asked as he approached and ruffled a hand over the top of her head.

"You seem quite sour today," Margaery said, having come from the outer edge of the forest to collect kindling. Her basket was full of dried bark and moss, where once she had gathered berries and mushrooms. Since the incident in the woods, and now the creature that had been found, she had no intention of wandering to far again.

Though it seemed Arya had not fully heeded her warning, given the small signs that indicated she had been in the woods. It didn't matter. Let Jon and Robb reprimand her. Margaery was still trying to earn Arya's friendship and affection.

"Come walk with me. You need to keep warm."

Ciri hadn't been by the fountain much since her arrival, having spent the past few weeks either exploring and hunting the wood or getting a feel for the rest of the village. From what everyone had told her, there was no point in trying to examine the fountain for her belongings, as they would not be coming back, and in fact the only thing she was likely to encounter from it were new arrivals.

It was only after she felt she could get her head around this place that Ciri decided she might actually be of use to someone just getting there. However, upon entering the park, she spotted a dark haired girl she'd only seen before occasionally at meals, younger than most of the others. Something about the ever-present awareness of her surroundings the girl seemed to have had caught Ciri's eye more than once. She appeared sharper than most.

"Pardon me," she announces herself, so as hopefully not to startle the girl. "Are you here to help as well? It's quite cold out here."

"It's fine. It's not like I've been that social anyways." Mostly lurking around her family members as if wary one or all would be snatched away. She was... well paranoid would be a start to describing her at least?

"Not a pleasant way to go, that. However with everyone so willing to help, it hopefully won't come to that." She even managed to sound sincere, though partly that was because the targets of her ire? She wasn't satisfied with letting them be taken by illness and cold. Blood spilled would be all that would satisfy her, spilled at her hands, before they could even think of causing trouble.

"Arya Stark." Glancing at the hand offered before offering one of her own in turn.

It was telling that she didn't try and swat his hand away when she felt it settle on her hair to muss it so. It was a surefire way when she was younger to irritate her, to get her huffing and puffing over 'wounded pride' in the way only a young girl could. Nowadays it simply drew a faint grin from her, something of her younger self in the crooked expression as she peered over at him at the inquiry.

"Just came by to see if anyone had come out so far today." Let him think she was hoping for more of their family. She was, of course, but at the same time she almost didn't want that to happen until the threats she worried about had come through and been... dealt with.

"Surely no more than any other day?" Said in a teasing sort of tone. She didn't mind Margaery. Still wasn't entirely sure what to make of her, wary of her, but she seemed earnest enough in her attempts to be friends, so Arya was willing to try as well, if only for the relationship she seemed to have with Robb. She knew however that she'd need to be wise about what she said around the woman, that truth would be easier. Her lies weren't good enough yet, and there were certain things she didn't want the Southern lady to get to the bottom of. Better safe than sorry.

At the invitation, she peered back at the fountain, considering a moment before she shrugged faintly, stepping away and closer to Margaery.

"Alright then."

She recognized the stranger, at least insofar as she'd seen her around the village, or at the inn during meals. Definitely memorable, her pale hair reminding Arya of countless stories of Targaryens and their dragons though she certainly didn't say as much. Not with a real Targaryen back home looming on the horizon with the claims of real life dragons to back her.

"Yes, I am." Replied easily, with a faint shadow of a smile. It didn't kill her to be personable here. Just another mask, Arya as she might have been without the harsh world to sharpen her. They had to live with these people, work with them to survive after all. "Not much I can tell them, but I can at least get them into the Inn before they freeze to death."

"Less so than in the mornings," Margaery nudged Arya, grinning at her. "What causes you to frown, little wolf?" She asked, curious to know what exactly was so appealing about the fountain. She knew that others kept an eye on it, if only to greet those that emerged from the waters, but Arya's continual presence was...strange.

The girl had her secrets, but since Margaery's last encounter with them, she hadn't tried lying again. To allow Arya her fun, she didn't bother to ask about her activities. Better to let her have her mischief.

"Most of my chores seemed to be finished. I wonder..." she leaned closer, "would you help teach a southron lady how to play in the snow?"

Johanna's seen the girl around, seeing her age, seeing the look in her eyes, and for some reason, it makes her feel at home again. When she finds her by the fountain staring at the fountain with a scowl, she honestly feels like she's found a kindred spirit. That doesn't mean she's about to go poking the crazy (not that she's crazy, but she knows what other people think about her).

"Waiting for someone in particular?" Johanna asks, raising her brow and wondering what'll happen if that someone comes over the edge.

So much for being quiet about it. But in a way she wasn't surprised, it wasn't like she was the only one who kept an eye on the fountain after all. Granted most others had more kind intentions, but that wasn't something she went shouting from the rooftops. Glancing at the other, someone she's seen around for a bit now, but not someone she'd introduced herself to just yet. She still found trusting anyone hard, and that probably wouldn't ever change, not really.

"A few someones actually." An easy tone, gaze flicking to the other young woman consideringly, wondering how she'd decide to take that answer.

"Someone has to be around to give them a proper welcome."

Clearly she'd need to change her routine a bit then. She didn't want to have everyone paying too close of mind to her presence around the fountain, didn't want to have to avoid answering questions. She could probably deflect with the all-too-honest wish to see more of her family safe, but that required her to let someone see her vulnerabilities and she was entirely unwilling to do that unless absolutely necessary.

She was glad that so far Margaery didn't seem to be all too concerned with digging into the things she said or did, found it a bit relieving in a way. It was sometimes tiring after all to keep up walls under scrutiny, easier, lighter interactions were more than welcome.

"I suppose I could be convinced to help." Quirking a brow as she peered over, a light smirk on her lips. "We've all this time and more than enough snow after all."

Johanna doesn't think there's anyone coming out of that fountain that she'd want to end except for a few particular Capitol folks, including Snow, whose face she'd like to smash in with a dull object again and again and again, to take all his children and grandchildren and force them to fight in the Games so they can understand what she had to go through.

"What's a proper welcome?" she asks, both amused and critical at once.

Ciri regarded her with an easy smile in return. Some part of her questioned if the girl's motives were entirely altruistic but she didn't press. The girl didn't appear to be up to no good, at least, so far as Ciri could tell. At her age Ciri had been out getting into all sorts of trouble, thanks in no small part to her favorite cabal of bandits.

"An admirable plan," she agreed. "I'm Ciri by the way, pleasure to make your acquaintance. Has it been quiet, then?"

No matter what Arya did, she had Margaery's notice. Since refuting Arya's lies, she found herself intrigued and concerned for the younger Stark girl. She had learned from someone to assume another identity and there seemed to be a purpose to her actions. The Starks were family to Margaery now and she would worry over all of them, especially Arya.

She had been without a nurturing influence, from what Margaery could detect. If she was allowed to, she would offer it to Arya freely.

Margaery grinned, "What games did you play in the snow when you were at Winterfell?"

Robb looked to the fountain and gave a slow nod as he considering the rippling surface of the water. "It's a good idea," he said, hand squeezing the back of her neck before finally falling away. "I try to check whenever I happen by, particularly now that the weather's turned."

There was no one pushing up from the depths now, though, and it was too cold a day to linger. "You going to walk me back home, be my bodyguard?"

"Someone needs to keep an eye on you." Replied in a playful tone, as if they were both young, teasing each other about what the future where Robb was Lord of Winterfell and everyone would bow and scrape.

More than willing to walk back with him, no signs of anyone near the fountains. No reason for her to avoid her siblings or trawl through the village for the moment. She could relax a bit, enjoy that they were here with her.

If Margaery learned just how much Arya had learned about assuming a new identity, she might be more than simply concerned.

"My brothers and I would build snow forts and try and storm each other's. Or pelt Sansa with snowballs when she came out to find me." Sometimes Sansa would join in, but as she grew, it became less likely that she would. She had to be a lady, after all. "Climb trees and shake all of the snow from the boughs onto whoever was under them."

Long story short, Arya Stark was entirely trouble.

Not entirely a lie either. Anyone aside from those on her list, anyone aside from a Lannister she'd be willing to help like she claimed. She was set on revenge, but she wasn't heartless.

"It's good to meet you, Ciri, I'm Arya." She glanced back at the fountain, nodding. "Things have been quiet, near as I can tell. Someone might have come before I came, but I haven't seen anyone."

"Depends who it is that peeks their head over the edge." Replied simply, but it was certainly a loaded answer, and a smile that might be a bit sharper than she means it to be.

Don't mind her she'd spent a bit of time fantasizing about breaking Cersi Lannister's pretty face on the stone of the fountain, so keeping the mask of normalcy on wasn't as natural as it normally would be.

She laughed, able to imagine how easily Arya could have tormented Sansa. Margaery had siblings as well and had a similar childhood. She had pushed Loras into the mud and chased him through the brambles maze. It was the sort of existence all children should have, but too many were pulled away from by the harsh realities of Westeros.

"Snowballs?" She knelt, scooping up a pile of snow. The cold stung at her skin sharply, causing her to give a small hiss of surprise. "I don't think we can throw them at your sister, but maybe at each other instead?"

She was inviting utter destruction at Arya's hands, but it would be worth it to see the young girl smile. "I expect no mercy."

"Put some gloves on first, elsewise you'll freeze your fingers off." Lightly reproachful in tone, but nothing mean about it. "Gloves and then I can teach you how best to be barraged by snowballs."

Nope, Margaery was definitely going to get buried in the process if that slight mischief to her seemingly innocent smile was any hint. But at least it was clear she did like the woman if she was worried about her wearing the right clothing for the game.

"Well that's good to know, as I know no one by that name here!"

"You sound like your brother," Margaery said, tossing the messily made snowball towards one of the nearby trees. Her gloves were tucked into the pocket of her cloak, forgotten earlier during her scavenging. Pulling them on, she felt her fingers throb beneath the wool, slowly warming.

Discomfort was something that could be pushed out of mind with the right amount of focus. She had no evidence of the fact, but part of her suspected that Arya might know that, if not know how to do it.

She grinned, "Nor do I. I do know several Starks and, according to southroners, they are as wild and untamed as the wolves associated with their house. Do you think you can live up to that expectation?"

"Robb is, on occasion, right sometimes." Said of course with affection, she did care for her brother for all she had to give him a hard time. Pulling her own gloves on, casually scooping a bit of snow as they spoke, packing it between her hands in an absent sort of way.

Discomfort? Surely not, surely Arya wasn't experienced with shoving it aside, though her focus to do so tended to be more... savage and bloodthirsty than anyone might suspect.

"I've heard such things as well." Replied in an easy tone. "I suppose you'll have to find out for yourself. If you can catch me!"

Lobbing the snowball at Margaery, aiming to hit maybe her torso or legs before turning to dart away with a grin. Not so fast that she was trying to actually escape, but enough to make a game of the chase.

"Only on occasion?" She grinned, already packing the next snowball together. "I would be careful not to let him hear that too often." She glanced over her shoulder, pretending to make certain he wasn't there. He wasn't and she knew that, as he was likely in the woods, but still. It was all part of the game.

Arya would have fared well as a Tyrell. There was even particular qualities in her that reminded Margaery of herself when she was younger. Perhaps it was that reason that lead her to want to nurture and encourage her abilities in deception. It wasn't something she could easily approach, so she preferred instead to make Arya feel at home.

She gave a cry of surprise as Arya's snowball landed on her shoulder. The burst of cold seeped into her scrubs, wetting her skin. Hardly deterred, she lobbed a snowball after her, watching it land short of hitting her.

Margaery was trailed after Arya, pausing only to pack more snow between her hands. "I'll get you for that!"

Arya didn't mind how things were at the moment. She'd settled when she realized that Margaery didn't tell Robb or the others about her lies when she arrived, something that might pique her older siblings worries for her if they heard. Content to let things continue as they were, see what happened with the bond that was slowly forming between herself and the older woman.

Friends were rare for her lately; she just worried that trend would continue in this place somehow.

But for the moment she didn't worry. She just laughed hearing the retort, leading away from the fountain, scooping snow from a windowsill as she turned a corner. If Margaery followed too quickly, she'd certainly be getting snow in her hair before the smaller Stark girl was taking off again.

She always had a fondness for children, though it was impossible to label Arya as a normal girl. Her maturity and spirit were unlike anyone else that she had met before. It was easy to understand how she was able to slip through Cersei's fingers. It would be impossible to hold someone like Arya down. She was clever in a way that couldn't be taught. She was born with it.

If it were even possible for Margaery to have a child (which she doubted since she was technically dead), she would want a daughter like Arya. The Tyrells relied on strong women and Arya would be well suited among them.

She nearly stumbled over herself as Arya showered snow in her hair. The snowball fell from her hand, lost when her gaze became obscured by her long curls. It was a momentary setback before she was chasing after Arya again, tossing another snowball after her, this one better aimed at her.

Gods above help anyone that wanted to make Arya do anything she'd set her mind against; she was far too stubborn to simply lay down and accept it. She'd claw and twist her way out just like an angry cat, she'd proven it time and time again.

Once she'd gotten Margaery, she took off again laughing, the sound devolving into a yelp as the snowball exploded against her back and some of the snow slid under her shirt collar.

Johanna steps closer. "Oh?" is all she asks, because that sounds like the very promising and intriguing start of a story that she might like to hear. Sure, it's not like her patience is endless or anything, but a girl who looks like she'd belong in the Games watching the fountain and talking about waiting for someone?

That's definitely worth her attention. "And what happens to that certain someone, if they come here?"

"Someones," She shifted in her stance, turning to face the other a bit more, partly to make sure none of her siblings had wandered into earshot while she was distracted. "And I'll make sure they never get farther than the fountain."

"No one would want them around anyways." A glance back at the offending decoration, gaze darkening with a slight frown. This person had no idea who the Lannisters were, but if she could somehow emphasize the danger of them to this small community, perhaps she'd be less likely to be taken in by their duplicitous charms.

As they walked, Robb slipped an easy arm around Arya's shoulders and tugged her close. There was a time when she wouldn't have allowed that sort of overt affection, but she seemed more tolerant of him now, since—

Well. Since rather a lot.

"I ought to take you hunting with me. You were always a better shot than any of us."

So much had changed. So much for the worst and this here was one of the few things that had changed for the better. She couldn't bring herself to try and push Robb away like when they were younger, not after everything that had happened. A smirk on her face as she peered over at him at the suggestion, brow lifting in a teasingly haughty way.

"I'll catch the biggest deer you've ever seen."

Yeah, Johanna already likes this for what it is. "If you're planning on doing that and you want to make a scene, this is a great place," she says, her words dripping with mild criticism. "If that's the message you want to send, but if you want to get it done quietly and quickly, then I've got about a half dozen better suggestions." It's not like she wants to put herself out there and get a reputation as a murderous thing, but at the same time, it's kind of what she knows.

And you have to play to your strengths.

"Don't worry, I've got plenty of my own I don't want to see coming over that ridge," she vows. "And I do want people to see me end them."

Arya wanted to get annoyed. She wanted to get angry but at the same time? She was right. If she murdered them right here, how would she get rid of the bodies? How would she avoid being tangled in this and by extension her family?

"...I'm listening if you want to share." Better to choke down her pride for the moment, hear these other ideas. She needed to be careful here, it wasn't like she could simply vanish and move on if things got messy. She was stuck with the consequences if she was caught.

Johanna's kills have always been very strategic, but then, her entire play in the Games had been so. Unfortunately, it's the kind of strategy that you burn as soon as you use it because no one believes you as the weak little simple girl for that long, plus you kind of outgrow it. The girl in front of her, though, doesn't have that issue. "I've always been a fan of lulling someone into a false sense of security," she says.

"Act demure and weak, scared," she says. "And then, when they least expect it, in goes the sharp end."

"We'll have to find someone who can make you a bow. There aren't many to spread amongst us all here." There were a fair few days when he didn't arrive to the inn to sign one out early enough, and was left once again with simply checking the snares and hoping for luck.

"Do you already know how to dress a rabbit?" he asked, and glanced toward the treeline. It would be worth checking the snares again today, just in case. They might find a little something extra for the pot.

"If you're serious about hunting, you ought to learn to dress and butcher what you kill. Particularly now, when we need to use as much as we can."

“Are you here alone?” Ciri finds herself asking, as her concern gets the better of her. “In the village, I mean. I’ve noticed you sit with a group of others at meals, are you all from the same place?”

It had occurred to her before she’d only never had the opportunity to ask, before now. The notion that others could come, perhaps even from her home world, that whatever had them here might still capture Geralt or Yennefer was a terrifying thought.

Ygritte snorted, breaking the seriousness of the moment with an expression of pure amusement.

"Well," the wildling grinned, her eyes sparking with malicious understanding. "Guess that much is up to you. I'd go for the surprise if it were me. Catch 'em off guard."

She shrugged. "Least that's what we do where I'm from."

Thorfinn nodded when she spoke. "Many of us are not, none can fault that. This is a strange place to be spirited away to."

His eyes shifted from her to the water, a darker look crossing over as he looked to the water. He had already made up his mind that if Thorkell came through, he would drown the man before he could even step out of the water. It would be best for everyone even if the idea of killing again bothered him. Anyone else... well, he would worry then if it happened. "No, not at all pleasant, but everyone keeps an eye I suppose." he answered in his thick accent, before shaking her hand in return.

"A pleasure, are you by any chance kin to lady Sansa?"

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