good dirt | arya stark

eighteen: pins and needles

   Winter had come, and the dead had come with it. Before Irene's eyes were even ready to behold the sight and before her brain could even wrap itself around it, it was time for the things that the North called White Walkers to march on Winterfell. They had been through the northernmost parts of Westeros already, and they were moving faster than expected. The air was cold and the snow stuck to the ground, the sound of the whistling wind worked with the other elements to create an eerie feel in the ancient castle.

   Everyone was quiet. Everyone was with their loved ones, sitting with their knees to their chests and hands over mouths. Everyone's mind ran over every move they had ever made, every thought that had ever crossed their mind, every action that they had done that had potential to send them to each and every Hell, and every action that could possibly reverse it. They were all terrified and frozen in their fear.

   Their hearts raced eternally but slowly and quickly all at once, the way one's heart would race when they held their breath under water or when children were playing a hiding game with their friends, deliberately trying to think themselves into not taking in another breath until they came up from the water or the person walked away from where they were hidden. Winterfell was waiting to sigh its long, shaky sigh, whether it was in relief or in its last moments.

Night was approaching way too quickly, even though the sun was still up. The young Tyrell was making her rounds and wishing everyone strength and good thoughts, all she could do. Next to her through the whole thing was Eris, her knight. The one who had stuck with her through it all.

   "Eris," she called as they walked to Sansa's chambers. "Do you think that you could rule a city, if you had to?"

"I would surely hate it, probably." She nearly laughed. It wasn't as fun as lowborns said it was. Sure, having the money was, but everything else was a con to being a Lord or Lady. "But I think I could do it. If I had the right wife by my side."

  Irene smiled at the thought of him and his common woman, Jaya. She was sweeter than honey and easier to get along with than anyone else she had ever meant. She had such a natural sweet heart. She would do well.

   "Do you think that you're right for lordship?" Eris furrowed his brows, and she took a different approach to it. "If the gods came down today and told you that you were a high lord, a warden of a territory maybe, do you think that the people would be better off with or without you?"

Eris sighed. "We can hope that they would be better off with me, I suppose. The one thing that they'd have behind them is knowing that I wouldn't really want it. The only reason that I would take it would be if something entirely too crazy for me to handle right now happened."

  She stopped in her tracks, smiling subtly enough so that it couldn't be seen, and Eris followed. "Actually, I'll be seeing a lot of Lady Stark later. I'd rather be the one place that I can't be for a while."

"Of course, My Lady." Eris said, his smile wobbly on his face. "I'll see you after the battle is won."

Her face dropped and she threw her body in the way of his, hugging him tightly and wrapping her arms across his body. Her face was in his neck and her eyes were closed shut, holding onto every memory she had ever had with him. Tears started to build up behind her shut eyes, but she held it back. She didn't want him to die, she didn't need for him to die. She was so sad, so torn up, so beat down. If she never saw him again, she wouldn't know what to do. If he died and she didn't, she would feel an amount of guilt that couldn't even be measured.