The air of Winterfell was dead silent, an overwhelming sense of dread having seemed to overtake all of its inhabitants. Everybody was awaiting the answer of Bran Starks outcome with baited breath.
Panic now melting into melancholy had drained Thalina greatly, having spent the past hours of the morning by Arya Starks side, rubbing the young girls back as she'd cried into her pillow, laying in bed and refusing to exit her chambers since breakfast.
She'd tried to offer the girl soft shushes, sitting on the feather mattress by Arya's side, even as she'd refused to face her older cousin, barely speaking as she weeped softly for her brother.
"You must eat, little wolf."
The small plate of sweetbread and fish that Thalina had brought up when she arrived had come untouched, now certain that her little cousin had not eaten since last night. It tore at her heart to see this little wolf in such pain, her words still going unanswered as her eyes turned to look down at the floor, letting out a soft sigh.
"When my father died, I didn't sleep for two nights and two days. I wandered the halls until the hour of the owl."
It was her hope perhaps that a recounting of her own ill decisions while in grief might serve as a caution to the young girl, so she might allow herself some small semblance of peace in reminding her that her brother was not yet dead, instead asleep.
"The little lord is only sleeping still, The Maester has even said he believes it to be only temporary."
She tried so dearly to comfort the young girl with her words, wanted so desperately to see a smile return to her face. Little girls such as her didn't deserve to cry so hard, they deserved no pain whatsoever.
Finally turning slowly to face Thalina, Arya Starks eye's were reddened with tears, her lip quivering as she tried to bring words from her throat.
Thalina's brows upturned, her hand coming forward to rest across the young girls cheek, her hand seemed ice cold against Arya's burning skin, the poor girl would soon work herself into a fever if she wasn't careful.
"Is my brother going to die?"
Any other question she could have asked, anything else would have presented an easy answer. Thalina's mouth opened quickly, no sound coming out as she tried to think what she could possibly say that might have made her poor little wolf stop the tears.
She could not lie to this young girl, she could not promise her brothers life, nobody could. Should she tell a false truth, a false reassurance was often times worse than a hard truth.
"I.. I don't know.."
She recalled the way in which people had spoken to her upon her fathers death, the reassurance that he was with the gods now, insisting that she should not mourn, that she should not be angry. The gods were so cruel in their ways just as they were unknown. Even if she were to reassure Arya that she would pray for her brother, other, deeper and spiteful parts of her did not want to find herself begging the same gods that took her father from her for anything.
"I wish I knew, I wish I could tell you that I knew he was going to live... It is up to the gods now."
Never would she have dared to speak these same words to her aunt Catelyn, yet here she found herself speaking them to her own cousin. A part of her felt cruel, she was so young, reassurance seemed to appropriate reaction, and yet, as much as she craved to promise Arya Stark her brothers life, The gods may not have been merciful enough to do the same.
Watching the way the young girl's eye's watered, she felt the guilt overtake her, furrowing her brows as she looked away shamefully, regret filling her system.
YOU ARE READING
𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 -
Fantasyher father is dead, poisoned by the treachery of those he had once served. broken promises of loyalty costing the lives of those all around her. the war of five kings has emerged, and now she must flee, lest she meet the same fate of both her father...
