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Description
SPOILER ALERT: If you haven't seen the show Game of Thrones through the second season, this won't make a great deal of sense.

She awoke with the scummy taste of old milk in her mouth and a dull ache behind her eyes as if she were holding back tears. A soft groan escaped her lips as she raised her head and her eyes came into focus. A spike of dread shot through her as she tugged at the dull leather straps around her wrists and across her waist and knees. Arya Stark was trapped in her chair. Her leather gerkin had been removed and she sat in a pale woolen tunic and plain black breeches.

"Awake already?" a soft voice asked from behind her. "You must be very strong for one so small. That is a good thing." Before she could react, another leather strap had found its way across Arya's throat.

She could barely turn her head as a girl barely older than her sister Sansa floated around the side of the chair and knelt by her feet. She had the olive skin of one of the Free Cities and wore a silken dress richly embroidered with the lion of house Lannister and hemmed in cloth-of-gold. Her hair was jet black streaked with red and she had teh most intense green eyes Arya had ever seen. It was only then that Arya noticed that her feet were bare and had been placed in stocks in front of her. The girl had a dreamy smile on her face and an eager look in her eyes as if she had been looking forward to whatever was in store for some time now.

"Let me go" Arya demanded as she tugged in futility against her bonds. The girl just continued to smile, allowing Arya to realize the unsettling truth that she was not going anywhere under her own power.

When she stopped, Arya gave a gruff pant and a steely stare to her captor. "Are you quite finished, love?" asked the girl.

"Who are you?" Arya asked with daggers in every word.

The girl leaned against the stocks as a lover would lay across a pillow and licked her lips. "I propose a small game. I will answer your question, if you first answer mine." The questions came across the room like fresh-lit incense.

Arya eyed the girl carefully. She had no love for Lannisters or those whom they employed, but she saw little choice. "Alright" she agreed.

The girl netted her fingers and gave her a much more focussed look. Her smile lost none its mischief as she asked Arya "What is the last thing you remember?"

Arya forced her self back through the fog of the last few hours. She remembered struggling against two armed soldiers, thrashing to get away as hard as she could. It was early morning in the prison camps of Harrenhal and The Mountain had chosen the poor girl for the day's interrogation. To date, none of those taken had survived the day after the Lannister questioner called The Tickler had his way. If Arya had to go, she had no intention of going quietly. She was a Wolf of Winterfell.

The two soldiers were considering calling a third over to handle her when a man on a white courser rode towards them. "What in the seven hells are you doing? Unhand her!" boomed the command of Tywin Lannister. The soldiers dumped Arya at the feet of the horse, stepped back and saluted their liege lord. Lord Tywin showed no interest as they fumbled for excuses. "Enough. I'll not have young ladies killed while I occupy Harrenhal." He began to bring his courser around. "Send her upstairs to my attendant. See to it that she breaks this young lady gently."

Arya had no time to protest. A rag was cupped over her mouth and nose. The smell of cinnamon and charred plants filled her lungs and nostrils.

"Good" said the girl. "You have lost no memory and any ill effects you feel will pass."

"What about you?" Arya started, glaring.

"Me?" the girl feigned surprise. "I am called Valynna. An orphan of the Free Cities. I had no direction in life until Lord Tywin took me in and gave me training. Now, I do what he asks of me."

"Then go clean his chamberpot. I'm sure he needs that done." Arya shot back.

Valynna scoffed and said "I'm certain. But for now, what he needs done is this." She gave the sole of Arya's right foot a soft, light run from the tips of her fingernails.

Arya was totally unprepared for the sensation. She jerked her foot back as far as the stocks would allow and gave a gasp of surprise. She had always been ticklish. Her half-brother Jon gave her playful tickles from time to time and her sister Sansa hated being tickled for as long as she could remember, but this was different. Arya had never felt anything that intense before.

Valynna lazily drifted her fingernails under the curl of Arya's toes and said "Lord Tywin would like to know about the rebellion in the area organized by Beric Dondarrion. What do you know about it?" She danced her fingernails along the arch of the helpless girls' right sole.

Arya clenched her teeth and screwed her eyes shut. Her heart raced and her breathing became tight and heavy. She was determined not to give in; to not let her tormentor see just how ticklish she was. Her outside appearance might have been strong, but waves of twitching shook the inside of her ribcage. She had no idea how long she would last.

"How many are there in the city? Have they weapons? Armour?" Valynna continued. She changed her rhythm of tickling constantly. She tickled the sole and top of the foot, never staying in one spot for more than a few seconds. The technique was not lost on the young girl. "Is there gold? Silver?"

Before long, Valynna began tickling Arya's left sole. Her lips unstuck from eadch other and turned to a strained grimace. Her grunts and squirms dissolved into a string of giggles that she tried to restrain as best she could, but to little avail. When Valynna asked her where the rebels could be found, Arya prayed a silent prayer to any gods, old or new, that would give her strength, only to find her utter "I don't know" over top of her giggles.

Valynna left her feet and cupped her hand on Arya's cheek. Arya fought back tears of humiliation as she gasped for air. "There now," cooed the interrogator. "That was hardly as difficult as you made it seem, yes?"

Arya opened her eyes just wide enough to give Valynna a look of pure malice. "Burn in hell" she said between gasps.

Valynna simply smiled back. "Just so. Now, for my other questions."

The answer she got for most of them were rounds of helpless laughter.

With apologies to George R.R. Martin. I'mma not so good a writer.

SS

Description
SPOILER ALERT: If you haven't seen the show Game of Thrones through the second season, this won't make a great deal of sense.

She awoke with the scummy taste of old milk in her mouth and a dull ache behind her eyes as if she were holding back tears. A soft groan escaped her lips as she raised her head and her eyes came into focus. A spike of dread shot through her as she tugged at the dull leather straps around her wrists and across her waist and knees. Arya Stark was trapped in her chair. Her leather gerkin had been removed and she sat in a pale woolen tunic and plain black breeches.

"Awake already?" a soft voice asked from behind her. "You must be very strong for one so small. That is a good thing." Before she could react, another leather strap had found its way across Arya's throat.

She could barely turn her head as a girl barely older than her sister Sansa floated around the side of the chair and knelt by her feet. She had the olive skin of one of the Free Cities and wore a silken dress richly embroidered with the lion of house Lannister and hemmed in cloth-of-gold. Her hair was jet black streaked with red and she had teh most intense green eyes Arya had ever seen. It was only then that Arya noticed that her feet were bare and had been placed in stocks in front of her. The girl had a dreamy smile on her face and an eager look in her eyes as if she had been looking forward to whatever was in store for some time now.

"Let me go" Arya demanded as she tugged in futility against her bonds. The girl just continued to smile, allowing Arya to realize the unsettling truth that she was not going anywhere under her own power.

When she stopped, Arya gave a gruff pant and a steely stare to her captor. "Are you quite finished, love?" asked the girl.

"Who are you?" Arya asked with daggers in every word.

The girl leaned against the stocks as a lover would lay across a pillow and licked her lips. "I propose a small game. I will answer your question, if you first answer mine." The questions came across the room like fresh-lit incense.

Arya eyed the girl carefully. She had no love for Lannisters or those whom they employed, but she saw little choice. "Alright" she agreed.

The girl netted her fingers and gave her a much more focussed look. Her smile lost none its mischief as she asked Arya "What is the last thing you remember?"

Arya forced her self back through the fog of the last few hours. She remembered struggling against two armed soldiers, thrashing to get away as hard as she could. It was early morning in the prison camps of Harrenhal and The Mountain had chosen the poor girl for the day's interrogation. To date, none of those taken had survived the day after the Lannister questioner called The Tickler had his way. If Arya had to go, she had no intention of going quietly. She was a Wolf of Winterfell.

The two soldiers were considering calling a third over to handle her when a man on a white courser rode towards them. "What in the seven hells are you doing? Unhand her!" boomed the command of Tywin Lannister. The soldiers dumped Arya at the feet of the horse, stepped back and saluted their liege lord. Lord Tywin showed no interest as they fumbled for excuses. "Enough. I'll not have young ladies killed while I occupy Harrenhal." He began to bring his courser around. "Send her upstairs to my attendant. See to it that she breaks this young lady gently."

Arya had no time to protest. A rag was cupped over her mouth and nose. The smell of cinnamon and charred plants filled her lungs and nostrils.

"Good" said the girl. "You have lost no memory and any ill effects you feel will pass."

"What about you?" Arya started, glaring.

"Me?" the girl feigned surprise. "I am called Valynna. An orphan of the Free Cities. I had no direction in life until Lord Tywin took me in and gave me training. Now, I do what he asks of me."

"Then go clean his chamberpot. I'm sure he needs that done." Arya shot back.

Valynna scoffed and said "I'm certain. But for now, what he needs done is this." She gave the sole of Arya's right foot a soft, light run from the tips of her fingernails.

Arya was totally unprepared for the sensation. She jerked her foot back as far as the stocks would allow and gave a gasp of surprise. She had always been ticklish. Her half-brother Jon gave her playful tickles from time to time and her sister Sansa hated being tickled for as long as she could remember, but this was different. Arya had never felt anything that intense before.

Valynna lazily drifted her fingernails under the curl of Arya's toes and said "Lord Tywin would like to know about the rebellion in the area organized by Beric Dondarrion. What do you know about it?" She danced her fingernails along the arch of the helpless girls' right sole.

Arya clenched her teeth and screwed her eyes shut. Her heart raced and her breathing became tight and heavy. She was determined not to give in; to not let her tormentor see just how ticklish she was. Her outside appearance might have been strong, but waves of twitching shook the inside of her ribcage. She had no idea how long she would last.

"How many are there in the city? Have they weapons? Armour?" Valynna continued. She changed her rhythm of tickling constantly. She tickled the sole and top of the foot, never staying in one spot for more than a few seconds. The technique was not lost on the young girl. "Is there gold? Silver?"

Before long, Valynna began tickling Arya's left sole. Her lips unstuck from eadch other and turned to a strained grimace. Her grunts and squirms dissolved into a string of giggles that she tried to restrain as best she could, but to little avail. When Valynna asked her where the rebels could be found, Arya prayed a silent prayer to any gods, old or new, that would give her strength, only to find her utter "I don't know" over top of her giggles.

Valynna left her feet and cupped her hand on Arya's cheek. Arya fought back tears of humiliation as she gasped for air. "There now," cooed the interrogator. "That was hardly as difficult as you made it seem, yes?"

Arya opened her eyes just wide enough to give Valynna a look of pure malice. "Burn in hell" she said between gasps.

Valynna simply smiled back. "Just so. Now, for my other questions."

The answer she got for most of them were rounds of helpless laughter.

With apologies to George R.R. Martin. I'mma not so good a writer.

SS