[ It takes Arya a long time to write the message. To sort out lies from truth, to find the words. ]
For a long time, I did not have a home, or a safe place to make one. I ran all over Westeros, and eventually I left the kingdom itself, and went to Braavos. In Braavos, I came upon the House of Black and White, home to the priests of the Many-Faced God. They took me in, provided food and shelter and promised safety.
But such things are not free, and in exchange, I had to give them Arya Stark. Her name, her memories, her desires, her entire self. I was to become no one, a faceless girl with no ties and no connections.
That is no easy task and I was not always successful.
Sometimes, I was punished.
The Door pulled me from that place. Nymeria is no more my name than Arya is. I made it up so you would have something to call me by.
The memories the gods used to give gifts are ones I am not allowed to have. That the gods can see them at all is frightening.
no subject
For a long time, I did not have a home, or a safe place to make one. I ran all over Westeros, and eventually I left the kingdom itself, and went to Braavos. In Braavos, I came upon the House of Black and White, home to the priests of the Many-Faced God. They took me in, provided food and shelter and promised safety.
But such things are not free, and in exchange, I had to give them Arya Stark. Her name, her memories, her desires, her entire self. I was to become no one, a faceless girl with no ties and no connections.
That is no easy task and I was not always successful.
Sometimes, I was punished.
The Door pulled me from that place. Nymeria is no more my name than Arya is. I made it up so you would have something to call me by.
The memories the gods used to give gifts are ones I am not allowed to have. That the gods can see them at all is frightening.