Not Just A Serving Girl

Chapter 37

~Carver's POV~

"I'm fine, promise!" Carver whispered to the concerned Arya, who was eyeing up his wounds. "Just scratches"

The three survivors had made a small camp, as the sun truly set behind the mountains, enveloping them in darkness.

"Wounds heal" he added, as he glanced at the red roses blooming upon the cloth he pressed again this chest.

"Not all wounds"

He glanced up at her, and a horrible dead atmosphere crashed around him as he saw the loss in her eyes.

"I'm truly sorry Arya, but if Katrina was in there when it happened you should know, clearly there was nothing that could be done"

"I hope she made it out alive" she muttered, trying to distract herself from her dead mother and brother. "She doesn't die easily"

"You're right there" grinned Carver, a grin which was entirely false. If Arya wasn't with him, he'd be crying in the mud somewhere, giving up. But her little face kept him strong, he had to be, for her sake.

"Can you tell me about them?" She asked timidly, poking a stick into the fire.

"Who?" Frowned Carver, yet he had a hunch.

"My mother and brother, you must have stories?"

Her eyes were full of hope, hope that he could tell her something, anything about them.

"If only Katrina was here" he sighed, "She knew Robb better than me, better than anyone. But I'm afraid she has all the stories you'd want to hear... all I can say is your brother was a good man and I'm glad to have met him. Katrina spoke of him so often, with such love, wherever she is right now she'll be blaming herself for this entire thing"

"She always took the blame" sighed Arya, "Back in Winterfell she did everything to try and keep us out of trouble, but clearly trouble had it in for her"

Carver sighed, what a fucking mess. He couldn't get his head around it, not any of it. The sick, twisted image of his sister, like a tree rooted to the ground as she watched the people who loved her be massacred. The image of her crying in a pool of Robb's blood, rage building until she couldn't see through a curtain of her own tears as her world fell around her...

"Carver?"

He exhaled slowly, quickly wiping a tear from his cheek.

"I'm fine" he sighed, "I've just lost a lot of blood, that's all. I need rest, won't be able to find Katrina if I can't keep my eyes open now will I?"

Suddenly, Arya leaned in, looking back to check if the hound was still asleep next to their dying fire.

"We should leave him here, go out on our own. We don't need him, he kidnapped me remember?"

Carver sighed, he couldn't move now even if he tried, his legs were led and eyes were heavy.

"If we wake up before him we will, but just remember you don't have to worry about him anymore. You've got a wolf now"

She smiled, nodding softly as Carver lay down amongst the dry leaves, protected from the rain by the canopy of trees.

"This feels so strange"

"What does?"

"Lying next to you, Kat's brother... it's so frustrating to think that she's out there and we're both here"

"I know, but we'll find her tomorrow. We'll stay with you little shadow, you're not alone anymore"

Suddenly, Carver felt a warmth on his chest, and opened his eyes to see Arya's head lying on it. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he felt her begin to shake with tiny sobs. Just as he suspected, she'd cry herself to sleep tonight.