You’re running through the streets blindly, bumping into walls and people, being flung to the ground and scrambling to her feet. You have to get there, you have to. Syrio told you to run and you can’t stop, won’t stop until you’re in the middle of the square, your heart in your throat, your eyes burning. You’re a wide-eyed little girl climbing to the top of the pedestal, where you can see over the top of the gathered crowd. You’ve never been so terrified in your life, not even when you were lost in the dark tunnels while chasing the cat or when that stupid Joffrey had Nymeria hunted and Lady killed.
You see him there, on the other end of the crowd, and your belly drops. He’s always been the biggest man in your life but out there he looks small, breakable. He is saying words you can barely hear, but the relieved look on Sansa’s face gives you hope for a moment. He apologized. They won’t hurt him, you think. But then you hear Joffrey yell and Sansa scream and his blade is in the air and it’s coming for him and you want to scream and you jump down and try to run to him to make it stop no no no please don’t please stop.
A hand grabs you and holds you tight, pulling your face away so you can’t see. But you can hear the sound clear as day and you know it’s done and the panic builds and father, oh father what have you done? Now you’re being pulled away from the crowd and you can’t see and you’re not sure you want to see but have to try but now it’s too late and the crowd has gone wild. The world has gone quiet and the man who caught you is speaking but all you can hear is the sound that sound and it is a sound that you will hear every night for the rest of your life.