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It took her seconds to tune out of the world, now. There was no need to worry about a brutal slog on the King’s Road when you could turn inwards in on yourself. Letting the sounds of hooves pounding the ground act as a meditation to think of nothing. There was an art to it, feeling nothing but sensing everything around you. A harsh meditation. She felt how to both be there and not there.
A few days ago there would not have been any other meandering thoughts. A few days ago, the threat of the world hung in the balance. Everything was now twisted around, inwards and outwards and back again.
The throbbing of her neck brought her back, and she realised she could not tune out as easily now. She could see his eyes glittering as she turned him down. Stop. It was easy, just stop thinking, she’d done it millions of times. A swirl of emotions were clawing just behind the throbs of pain coming from her eye, from her neck. A grunt snapped her back to attention.
The Hound and his horse inched forward into her vision.
“You gonna be silent the whole fucking way down or do I have to start talking to the horse”, Clegane said, still staring straight ahead but moving his horse closer to match with her speed.
“Didn’t think you were much of a talker.”
“Yeah, well, it’s unnerving considering you used to annoy the fuck out of me.”
“People change.” An ache reverberated through her throat every time she swallowed. Blinking traced hazy images of blue, aching cold splintering across her face.
“That’s what concerns me. Something’s off. Why the hell you not going back after this, you expecting to die?”
The Hound thought he was being smart now. “If that’s what it takes.”
“If this is about the list, about wanting to kill Cersei…”
“You don’t know anything about what I want.”
“Of course I fucking do, you’ve said it yourself before, you’re not really Arya anymore. You’re a cold little bitch that somehow killed a dead king, and Cersei is still on that li- ”
Arya cut him off. “She deserves to die.”
“Is it just about revenge to you now, is it?” The Hound dared to look over at her, wind sweeping his limp hair over his face.
She glanced over, but stopped herself from rolling her eyes at the hypocrisy. “How are you surprised? You taught me.”
“Aye, and I’m beginning to regret that.” The Hound subtly softened his tone, unbeknownst to him. Arya could sense it in his lowered gaze, the slowing of his breath.
He’d taught her revenge. He was obsessed with it. The seed of death was planted before him, was nurtured after him, but his life and way of living had shaped her. How could it be a bad thing, when she had just found out it was her destiny? For years she had remembered The Red Woman’s words, they enveloped the names she spoke at night before sleep. She could not be bothered with this.
“You would be dead otherwise”.
“Now you’re playing the fucking hero card?” he scoffed, back to being glib, squidging his words together in a hurry to leave his mouth behind.
“Yes, whenever I want.”
“Living for only revenge is no life. You’ll end up feeling and looking like shite.”
“Do you honestly think I care about what I look like?”
“ I - “ He stumbled over himself. “No. You’ll regret not actually living. Stop twisting my words.”
“I’ll twist ‘em, if it means you shut up.”
“Where have I heard that before?”
Arya’s eyes softened and her mouth crept into a grin. She’d managed to not think about Gendry for more than a few minutes. Perhaps she’d have to keep talking to the Hound the whole way down this godforsaken road.