Winter Is Here // Game Of Thrones

Black Is My New Color(Audelia POV)

I was locked in a cell. No food or water. Not that I wanted any. I would most likely throw up just at the sight of it. I couldn't move, I couldn't talk, I couldn't even breathe properly. I just wanted to wake up from this nightmare, wake up back in Winterfell, in my room, walk down the hallway and see Jon and Robb play fighting, Sansa embroidering a new dress, Arya practicing with her sword, Rickon and Bran running around, bickering. I wanted to see mother and father together, happily smiling. I wanted to go back, I wanted to scream at myself, don't go! Don't let any of your family go, and now it was too late.

Father was dead.

And I couldn't even bring myself to cry over his death. I couldn't shed a tear.

I wasn't angry, I wasn't sad, or happy. I felt nothing.

Absolute silence.

I knew my father's blood was still on my face, I still had the dagger on my thigh but I was too tired to use it. I was so tired.

Exhausted.

But I couldn't sleep, in fear of seeing my father. Of seeing my happy previous life, and then waking up disappointed.

Suddenly the large, heavy metal door opened and a guard walked in. But I couldn't bring myself to look up at him, or even acknowledge his presence.

"You have been released by the mercy of his Royal Majesty, King Joffrey", announced the gard and unlocked the chains around my legs and hands. He forcefully pushed me up, and I stood, still staring at the ground. "Let's go, girl. I don't have all day", said the guard, slightly raising his voice.

He dragged me up the stairs and out of the Black Cells. Down the hallways that I memorized as the way to my room. He pushed me inside and left. I stood there, all alone, not knowing what to do.

"My lady...", whispered a servant as she ran over to me. "I am so sorry", she whispered but I didn't acknowledge it. I didn't care.

It's as if their 'sorry' is going to bring Father back. Like it's going to sow his head back onto his neck, and he is going to all fine again.

She gently brought me to the bath and began helping me to undo my dress. She took off my necklaces, and my dagger. She was about to touch the bag with my art book in it but I grabbed her hand.

"Don't touch that", I whispered and she looked at me scared but withdrew her hand. I took off the bag and put it on my bed myself and got inside the bathtub. 

There was a mirror across from me, where I could see myself, see my dirty body, my dirty hair. The blood on my face. It was dried now but it was still there.

I couldn't get the picture of his bloody neck out of my head. I couldn't unsee his headless body falling down, lifeless.

Finally, I broke down. Tears slipped from my eyes, and I didn't stop them. But I still felt nothing. No emotion.

It was like my heart was ripped out from my chest.

"My lady, we need to wash your hair", whispered the maid and I let her. I didn't protest anything she did. Even when she washed my face. 

After we were done, the maid extended me a clean dress I could wear but I refused. Instead I chose a black one. It was simple, with no design but it symbolized my mourning.