favourite asoiaf characters; Arya Stark
“Who are you?” he would ask her every day.
“No one,” she would answer, she who had been Arya of House Stark, Arya Underfoot, Arya Horseface. She had been Arry and Weasel too, and Squab and Salty, Nan the cupbearer, a grey mouse, a sheep, the ghost of Harrenhal but not for true, not in her heart of hearts. In there she was Arya of Winterfell, the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn, who had once had brothers named Robb and Bran and Rickon, a sister named Sansa, a direwolf called Nymeria, a half brother named Jon Snow. In there she was someone … but that was not the answer that he wanted.”
One day she came back grinning her honey grin, her hair all tangled and her clothes covererd in mud, clutching a raggedy bunch of purple and green flowers for Father. Sansa kept hoping he would tell Arya to behave herself and act like the highborn lady she was supposed to be, but he never did, he only hugged her and thanked her for the flowers.
“Drogon,” she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten. “Dracarys.”
I am Daenerys Stormborn and I will take what is mine with fire and blood.
