Prompt fic, Game of Thrones
Jun. 30th, 2013 10:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
catkoMore prompt fic for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
universe_the: prompt is from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
trivher: "Girl, you'll be a woman soon." Though I mostly thought of silly stuff related to this, here is what came out.
Bloodflower
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Word count: 300
Arya opens her hands in the glow of the burning torches and feels heat of the fire, the warmth of the dark blood slipping between her fingers. "Valar Morghulis" -- a harsh whisper in her ear -- "Valar Dohaeris." She lifts her arms skyward, and lets the blood drip down onto her face …
…the splash on her cheek is cold, and as she opens her eyes another hits her nose. Hard ground beneath her, cool breeze skimming her skin, dark all around, and the intermingled sound of the patter of the rain, the snort of a horse, and the snoring of a huge lump of a man nearby. She shifts on the damp earth and breathes as waking reality strips off the heat of the dream. It's a familiar ritual--she'd been having this particular dream since she ended the Frey man. She moves to rub her face when a coppery tang makes her freeze. Yes, the dream was always realistic, but never….she darts out a wary tongue and tastes blood.
Sitting up, she slides her hands into a patch of ice-colored moonlight and sees dark smears on her fingers. She swallows a sob as realization seeps in, and feels beneath her to confirm. All those years hearing Nurse talk to Sansa about the time of her flowering, hoping some miracle would render her immune. And so. Here, now.
For a moment she thinks fixedly of her Nurse, and her sister, and her mother, and tries to remember what it was like to be in the company of other females.
Shoving the feelings down deep, she clambers to her feet and strides to the moon-dappled stream, to wash and do whatever else a warrior -- warrior woman -- must to ready herself for the coming day on the field of battle.
universe_the: prompt is from trivher: "Girl, you'll be a woman soon." Though I mostly thought of silly stuff related to this, here is what came out.Bloodflower
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Word count: 300
Arya opens her hands in the glow of the burning torches and feels heat of the fire, the warmth of the dark blood slipping between her fingers. "Valar Morghulis" -- a harsh whisper in her ear -- "Valar Dohaeris." She lifts her arms skyward, and lets the blood drip down onto her face …
…the splash on her cheek is cold, and as she opens her eyes another hits her nose. Hard ground beneath her, cool breeze skimming her skin, dark all around, and the intermingled sound of the patter of the rain, the snort of a horse, and the snoring of a huge lump of a man nearby. She shifts on the damp earth and breathes as waking reality strips off the heat of the dream. It's a familiar ritual--she'd been having this particular dream since she ended the Frey man. She moves to rub her face when a coppery tang makes her freeze. Yes, the dream was always realistic, but never….she darts out a wary tongue and tastes blood.
Sitting up, she slides her hands into a patch of ice-colored moonlight and sees dark smears on her fingers. She swallows a sob as realization seeps in, and feels beneath her to confirm. All those years hearing Nurse talk to Sansa about the time of her flowering, hoping some miracle would render her immune. And so. Here, now.
For a moment she thinks fixedly of her Nurse, and her sister, and her mother, and tries to remember what it was like to be in the company of other females.
Shoving the feelings down deep, she clambers to her feet and strides to the moon-dappled stream, to wash and do whatever else a warrior -- warrior woman -- must to ready herself for the coming day on the field of battle.
