"𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔨 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔴𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔞𝔫𝔡...𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔦𝔱"
Raised by uncles with prominent titles in war, she aspired to be what she could not. She plowed the soil and p...
A/N Oh my gosh, it's an update. I'm sorry, I hate me too ): I just realized it has been a year since I published this story and I cannot process it but anyway— ENJOY!
i hope. .
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"Forgetting you is the least of my worries. Impossible, in fact."
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My head tilted back, my eyes lifting to the ceiling of the cottage as a loud sigh escaped my lips. Even when Erebus and Cyran were not in the cottage, I still felt an extreme bother.
"I can take care of myself." I stated as I lifted my chin high.
"I know. They know." Arlo said, my eyes directed back to her as she sewed fabric together making it seem so easy. I have tried sewing before, the stitching was uneven and I had tiny holes in my thumb that day. I have not dared picked a needle since, I would not fathom the art of sewing.
"Then why are you here? No offense but I don't need to be watched like a child." I asked
"Because they worry for you and while they are out hunting with the King, Cyran asked me to watch over you. Just to make sure nothing happened to his little sugar pie." She gave me a half smile.
"Didn't you hear? I like hot peppers in my pie." I said as I raised an eyebrow.
Arlo chuckled "Of course. Everyone gets a taste whether they want it or not."
I stuck my tongue at her playfully and she returned one. I sighed "I'm bored."
"Well lucky for you, I have to meet Marie from the kitchen for an exchange of cloaks for some pie." Arlo said
We strapped our cloaks over our shoulders and set out for Winterfell. We walked on foot as the cottage was not very far from the castle. We separated after the gates as Arlo went to meet her friend; she urged me to meet back soon for supper before parting.
She disappeared into the castle with her woven basket, my eyes following up the large castle. The air was as silent as night and the castle felt cold and lonely. Ravens flew above, squawking in the mid-silence while small laughters occured in the courtyard. The two youngest Baratheon children played together, chasing one another. The little boy chased his sister with a stick but a sword in his imagination, giggles filled the air. The little girl tripped and fell over, turning around to see her brother pointing his stick at her "Got ya."
"Eila!" A sweet voice giggled as a pair of small arms wrapped around my waist. I looked down to see Bran smiling at me.
The sight of him made my heart warm "Don't you look happy."
