If I Want To

Arya

Arya Horseface! That one hurt. Arya Underfoot! That one was better. Although it was the first one that assaulted her ears. Escaping between giggles, carried by the breeze. Hurtful words whispered by the two girls with their heads bowed together, sharing giggles, secrets, and sneaky taunts aimed at Arya.

She remained hidden behind the barrel, not really sure why she was hiding, her toes digging into the dirt. Her thighs were aching and she wanted to get up and leave. But her body refused to cooperate.

They were aware of her presence. She just knew it. So hastily had she crouched behind the barrel. Her head was sure to be peeking over the top, easy for them to spot. Arya sighed in annoyance. She usually wasn't such a poor hider.

Her body stiffened as the beautiful girl and the pretty girl continued to whisper and giggle. Why won't Septa Mordane scold them? She was always quick to catch all of Arya's misbehavior and scold her soundly for them.

"She's always so dirty," the pretty one's voice was full of gleeful disdain.

"Mother doesn't even understand her," the beautiful one's voice was soft and gentle as the summer breeze.

They burst into a fresh bout of giggles and Arya's lip curled. Her fists balling up as she furiously blinked away sudden tears that burned her eyes and blurred her vision. Oh how she hated them. All snooty and haughty. Rotten and mean! Her breathing had quickened from her anger and she wished that she wasn't affected by their words.

Sansa was the perfect little lady, but at the same time she could be so horrid to Arya. But no one ever saw that. All everyone ever noticed was the fact that Arya's hair was always tangled. Her face always dirty. And her clothing always torn.

I'll run around if I want to, she thought fiercely, jutting her chin out.

And I'll play with Mycah if I want to. He's a better friend than you two!

She wanted to tell them that they were awful. All they ever did was gossip, call her names, and look down on her commoner friends.

Arya glanced down at her wooden sword that had fallen to the ground, wishing that she could wield it against the words continuing to flow towards her. Cut away the sounds of their laughter and with one strike loosen the tightness in her chest.

She could still remember the joy that had swelled her heart as she battled with Jon earlier. Swinging and hacking her wooden sword wildly, but Jon had only laughed in glee, mussing up her hair before twisting out of reach.

She'd had so much fun, barely able to contain her laughter. And Jon had engaged her in battle until she'd grown tired and sank down on the ground to rest.

He'd grinned down at her, "good job, little sister." His eyes that looked so much like her own had been full of pride.

Arya smiled as the thought of Jon effectively melted away the constriction in her chest.

She peeked back at the two girls, before picking up her sword and getting to her feet; no longer caring if they saw her. She whirled away, swinging her sword as she headed towards the practice yard to find another opponent to battle.