Winter Is Here // Game Of Thrones

Revenge Goes Both Ways (Audelia POV)

(Warning: Suicidal Thoughts and Self-Harm. If you do not feel comfortable, please skip the chapter, I do not want to cause anybody to be uncomfortable. If you are having trouble with this exact same thing in your life, please seek help. Remember, everyone matters.)

It has been days, weeks perhaps since I last saw a living soul. 

I was still in shock, I couldn't understand what had happened. My mind could not wrap around the idea that Robb and mother were dead. That most of our allies were dead. That a man, even as awful as Walder Frey and Roose Bolton, could kill his king on a wedding day.

I wasn't sure what I was doing, where I was going. I knew I had to get to the Eyrie, but I was not sure where I was now.

Robb was dead.

My brother, who I grew up with, who always watched out for me, who taught me how to swordfight. Was dead.

My mother, although awful at times, was dead. I know we were never at our best terms but we still shared many good memories together. She taught me to sow, to draw, to pray. Praying was not going to get me anywhere now.

I prayed for my family's safety. 

More than half of them are dead.

I saw them in front of me when I tried to go to sleep. I would look up at the night sky, and remember how my father taught me to read the stars. How me and Robb used to sneak out in the night and lie on the fields, just watching them. How my mother used to tell me that my grandparents were watching me. How the gods watched over us.

No gods would save us now. Nobody was watching over my family.

So I had to.

I just wanted to go back. Train with Robb one more time. Goof off with Arya and Rickon one more time. Sow with Sansa one more time. Joke with Jon and see him smile one more time. Tell another made up story to Bran before he went to bed. What I wouldn't give to apologize to my mother for what I had said to her. Apologize to my father for not being able to protect my siblings like I had promised. 

To see Jaime and his stupid, cocky smile again. 

I wanted to go back to the happy times. Do everything differently. 

I wanted to so desperately go back. 

My body refused to move as the light shone on me. I hadn't slept in days, and I was so tired. Greywind kept me company but I could tell he was hurting as well. He whimpered, and looked at me with his grey sad eyes. His tail never wagged, and he has been moping around.

I felt the direwolf pull me by my dress but I refused to move.

What was the point?

I had no one to live for anymore.

Father was dead.

Robb was dead.

Mother was dead.

Bran was dead.

Rickon was dead.

Arya was most likely dead.

Sansa was the only one left alive.

Jon was at the wall.

My family was broken. The pack fell apart. In a blink of eye.

Jaime left me.

My heart still aches for him. For his touch. For his look. For his voice. Just even for a short moment.

Finally, the walls I had build up for years after my father's death broke. The tears slipped out uncontrollably. I just laid there, on my side, on the ground, numb and in pain as tears streamed down my face. Greywind came over and began licking my face but I was too tired to make him go away, or move.

I was done.

I didn't care what happened to me anymore. I wouldn't care if a man came from behind those bushes and threatened to rape me. I just wanted it to be over and done with. I would most likely thank whoever came to hurt or kill me first. I just wanted to feel something, even if it was pain.

I pulled out my dagger, the one I used to kill all of my victims. It was old, and beginning to rust, but I didn't care.

I had to feel something. Anything. I needed to feel alive.

Blood trickled down my hand and onto the green grass. Greywind began howling, and walking around me unhappily. He knew what was going on, he wasn't stupid.

I just stared at the blood.

I felt something.

Even if it was pain, it was something. A sign that I was still alive. Gods it felt good to feel something. 

It felt right to cut myself. Right to inflict pain on myself.

By what right did I survive but the rest of my family didn't? Who decided that I was worth it? Why did I have to stay alive and not die in that bloody Wedding, or have my head cut off, and labelled a traitor. I could not understand, why me? Of all people.

Audelia Stark, the beauty of the North. The winter flower. The girl who fucked Jaime Lannister, and was naive enough to believe he actually loved her. The little tiny girl who so desperately wanted to play with boys. The stupid, young lady with big dreams. The little Stark wolf who's family is dead, home taken away, with no hope.

Hope...

What a funny thing. 

It's so rare, and so easy to lose, yet so hard to gain. I had hope, somewhat after my father's death. I had even more hope when I got back to Robb and mother. Now I had no more hope.

I felt the world around me begin to spin as I rested my backside against the tree. I was losing too much blood. 

Well I will certainly be the first Stark to die of self-inflicted wounds.

I heard footbeats drawing near. I knew men were coming but I didn't move, didn't make an effort to hide myself. Greywind was starting to go crazy, howling and barking as he tried to lick my face for me to stay awake. I probably could have. If I had the will.

"Take me home....", I whisper to Greywind as he growled at men coming closer. I looked up, one last time, and saw a figure. I knew I was hallucinating. There was no way for this to be true. But I still smiled, knowing that even though he left me, he would still be here when I left.

"Take me home Jaime....".