Arya Stark (nothorsefaced) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-07-09 22:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, arya stark, sandor clegane |
Who: Arya Stark and Sandor Clegane
What: Meeting and chatting
When: Backdated: Monday, June 24th. Afternoon
Where: A Park
Rating: PG probably
Status: Complete
Now that school was over, which meant that Arya wouldn’t be playing sports the way she had over the last however many years, she needed to find ways to keep herself active to stay in shape as well as so that she wouldn’t get bored. She already planned on swimming in the mornings, but that just wasn’t enough. She needed to do something where she’d be running. Something that would actually be a bit of a challenge. She planned on asking around on Valarnet, see if that one person was still around who played rugby. Gendry had only ever seen her play softball that one time, so it would be fun to invite him to a rugby match so he could see what she could really do.
At the moment, she was walking through the park, trying to see if there were any summer teams practicing that she could talk to.
Sandor Clegane was sitting in the shade of a large tree, reading a book while slicing cuts off an apple with his pocket-knife. The girl caught his attention (for some reason) and he instantly recognised her as the Stark girl, Arya. She certainly wasn’t Sansa.
“Girl!” he called, eating a slice of apple from his blade. “You’re Arya Stark, aren’t you?”
Hearing someone call her name, Arya turned towards the voice, frowning slightly until she spotted the man. He seemed familiar and it took her a moment to recognize him from her post about Hot Pie and Lommy and the Knight’s Watch. “Yeah. You’re...Sandor Clegane, right?” She hadn’t really given it much thought before, but most of the people she knew had pretty strange names; her family included. She didn’t get too close just yet, keeping some distance between herself and the older man.
He laughed a little. “Do you seen many people with faces like this?” he asked. “What brings you out here, little wolf, away from your pack?”
The way he spoke to her meant that he knew a thing or two about the Starks, including their Sigil; or family crest in the real world. However, she didn’t know him aside from Valarnet, but that didn’t mean anything, because she was sure that there were plenty of people out there who she didn’t know who knew her family. After all, how many Lords were there who lived in California? “Looking for something to do now that school is over.” She crossed her arms as she spoke, wondering exactly how he knew her family, “Do you usually hang around in parks talking to teenage girls?” He tone was light, but quizzical.
Sandor smirked with a short grunt of laughter. “I usually spend my time installing security systems in the homes of people with more money and paranoia than good sense,” he said, thinking of Cersei Lannister. “Be glad it’s me you’re talking to, not the other Clegane. He doesn’t have the same kindly demeanour and sense of humour as me.”
He sliced the apple again. “I remember school, back in England. What now, for the Stark cub? Get married, buy a dress, learn to say ‘yes dear’ and toss a few babies in the direction of your husband?”
“He sounds like the kind of guy you don’t want to invite to a party,” Arya said, giving him a look that said ’Are you kidding me?’ in response to his suggestions. “What year do you think we live in? If my husband expected me to do the whole yes dear and pearls thing, I’d have to kick him in the shins.” Besides, Arya didn’t really see herself getting married; at least any time soon. If things worked out with Gendry in the long run, which she hoped it would, she wouldn’t if in the future they just lived together. She could change her mind in the future, but for now she didn’t actually see marriage in her future. Then again, she hadn’t expected to go to prom either and that had changed. Only time would tell.
Sandor gave a grunt of laughter. “Maybe I’m confusing you with your sister,” he said. “And confusing time periods. Well, at least there’s one rich girl with an ounce of sense in their damned head.”
Of course he knew Sansa. Everyone knew Sansa. Of course whether or not he knew her in person or just of her from TV, there was no way to really tell, “Yeah, Sansa’s the one who likes dresses and girly stuff. Give me cleats and a soccer ball and I’m happy.” She wasn’t going to bring up the fact that she’d just worn a dress on two different occasions. “So, how do you know Sansa?”
Sandor stood up. “I know her the same way I know all the Starks; I’m someone just on the peripheral. I work for the Lannisters a lot of the time. And the Baratheons. And it’s all connected,” he said. “But I mostly know her from those insufferable adverts on the television. And it’s not ‘sockah’ it’s ‘football’.”
“I know the Baratheons. My father and Robert Baratheon are friends.” Not to mention, technically Gendry was a Baratheon since Robert was his father, but instead she added, “And I’m friends with his daughter.” When he corrected her about the whole soccer vs football thing, she scoffed, “Whatever. I was born here, so it’s soccer.” She might have used various british slang from time to time since she’d grown up around Ned, not to mention, her accent from her dreams was beginning to bleed through, but when it came to sports, soccer was the game where you kicked the ball and football was the one that wouldn’t let her sign up for the previous year.
“All connected, cub,” he insisted. “You’ll always know the Baratheons and the Lannisters as if they were related to you. You won’t leave that circle of people; that’s the circle you were born into.” Sandor rolled his eyes. “Oh, bloody Americans. Stealing our words, making them into something new and not having anything make sense anymore. Football.”
It amused her how he kept referring to her as a cub or wolf girl, because she supposed it made sense since the Direwolf was the symbol of their house even in the real world. She wondered what he’d think if he knew about Summer and Lady. “Yeah, I figured as much.” It helped that so far the Baratheons and Lannisters didn’t seem as bad as they were in the dreams. “And it’s not my fault most of your words just sound silly.” Most girls wouldn’t stand around talking to a man like Sandor Clegane, let alone tease him, but Arya wasn’t like other girls.
Sandor lifted his eyebrows and turned a little more toward her. Either I'm going to kill her or I'm beginning to like her. “I hear Shakespeare was a hack, anyway,” he shrugged.
Arya laughed and nodded, “So, you’re blaming Shakespeare for all British slang? Pretty sure there weren’t any lifts or prams back then.” Okay, so Arya had no idea if there were, but she wasn’t as if she really cared. She was enjoying their banter and talking to him in general, because she knew that most other teenage girls would probably be afraid of a man who looked like he did.
“Oh, he invented a whole bunch of words. Bloody opportunist,” he said, finishing off his apple. “So school is out for you, then. And we’ve established that you probably won’t end up lying on your stomach in a pink bedroom talking about boys. So at this point in your life, everyone is probably telling you to make decisions. Or maybe not; a Stark cub might be able to do whatever she likes.”
Admittedly, the idea of him thinking about her in her bedroom was pretty creepy. “Why are you so interested in what I’m doing now that school is over?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest as she watched him, part of her knowing she should probably get going, but the other part rather intrigued.
Sandor smirked. “Because I’m a perverted serial killer who’s too honest for his own good,” he said casually. “And the Starks are one of those families that move in the same circles as I. And you don’t seem to want to take that route.”
Seriously, whether he was telling the truth or just trying to get a rise out of her, most girls would have hightailed it at either 'perverted' or 'serial killer', but Arya stayed where she was, giving him a look that showed that if he was trying to scare her, it wasn't working, "I don't know what I want to do. I'm undecided right now."
“I’m sure you can enjoy the luxury of being undecided,” said Sandor, glancing away for a moment as if expecting someone to attack him. He looked back to her. “With all that lovely Stark money to fall back on. Just....do something. It’s better than doing nothing.”
“My parents aren’t gonna let me sit around doing nothing for long.” Not that Arya planned on sitting around and doing nothing. She just wasn’t the type of person to sit around like a bump on a log. She’d already started thinking about getting a job; she just didn’t know what kind of job she would even be good at. “But I don’t plan on just sitting around. I’ll figure it out eventually.”
Sandor nodded. “Well, I wish this was more interesting, but it isn’t,” he said, not unkindly. “Learn to fight or something, that’s interesting.”
Arya laughed and shook her head, “Oh, I intend to learn to fight. I have a sword actually. Just got to learn to use it.” In fact, she was really hoping that she’d have a dream where she learned to use it or something, but considering her father didn’t even know about the sword in her dreams, so kind of doubted it. She could hope though. Without giving him a chance to respond to what she’d said about the sword, Arya smirked and started to turn away, “Well, I should get going and let you get back to your book.” She didn’t know why, but she had a feeling that she’d be seeing him again and if he still wanted to know, she would explain the sword then.