fear_cuts (fear_cuts) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2015-03-06 10:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | arya stark, magdelene defoe, zz:status complete |
Underfoot (Mag)
Arya had never been a good patient. When she was very small, Winterfell had been swept by redspots: not a serious disease to children, but a potentially disfiguring one if the pustules were broken in visible places. They had itched horribly, and Septa Mordane had been driven to distraction trying to find ways to keep Arya from scratching and bursting them, potentially harming her chances for a good marriage later in life.
So it was here. Her leg itched in its cast, and she was bored in her room, and she hated the wheeled chair. Arya had always been an active child--Fat Tom had not called her "Arya Underfoot" without cause. She had nothing to do. So long before she had been given clearance by Hannibal or Erik, she was back on her feet--her foot, perhaps, was more accurate; though she leveraged the cast in a sort of awkward hobbling walk that became easier with practice--and slipped from the room.
She had only made it so far as the kitchen last time. This time she changed directions and began to wander further in, even navigating a staircase. She rested for a moment, taking the opportunity to make sure that nobody would come investigating the loud thumps that her cast and hopping steps had made on the ornate steps, and then turned to a long hallway filled with doors. She pressed her ear to the first one, listening for sounds from inside.