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The pain isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. He’s not sure why but thinks it’s probably because she’s there with him. And even now he can’t help but smile because even though he’s dying, his little sister’s beside him and so it’s not so bad, he thinks. It could be far worse. She could be the one dying.
But he sees that Arya’s leaning over him, crying, and that sobers him immediately. He tries to move a hand to wipe her tears away, but his limbs refuse to cooperate. All he can manage is to grab one of her hands and hold it.
She says something. His name, he thinks. He attempts to say something in return, anything. Maybe to tell her not to be sad, that she’ll be fine without him. There’s really a lot he wants to tell her but he’s so weak now, and it’s getting harder for him to think coherently.
She presses her hands against his chest, trying to stop the bleeding. “You’re going to be okay, I promise”, she repeats over and over again. The words keep falling from her lips like some sort of desperate prayer. Perhaps they are one.
He knows it’s hopeless though, wants to tell her, but it’s getting so hard to breathe and he doubts she would listen to him anyways. After a few moments, he finally settles with telling her, “I love you”. He tells her he doesn’t regret anything that’s happened, that he would rather die a thousand bloody deaths than never have been with her. That makes her cry all the harder though.
She presses frantic kisses to his bloody lips and begs him not to leave her. It’s too late; they both know it. He’s lost too much blood. Still he gives her one final smile, because no matter what, she always could make him smile…