She thought of all the names that she had worn: Arry, Weasel, Squab, Cat of the Canals. She thought of that stupid girl from Winterfell called Arya Horseface. Names did not matter. “I can pay the price. Give me a face.“
I have a hole where my heart should be, she thought, and nowhere else to go.
And how she smiled and how she laughed, the maiden of the tree. She spun away and said to him, no feather bed for me. I’ll wear a gown of golden leaves, and bind my hair with grass, But you can be my forest love, and me your forest lass.
maisie williams + fans
