How you got yourself into this, you don’t know, but shrinking to two inches tall and having a cat threaten you with nomming makes this the worst, and possibly the last, day of your life. Backed into a corner with nowhere to go, you prey to the old gods, and the new, and even some that don’t exist yet.
“Shoo!” a booming voice came from above, and a foot nearly connected with the beast. While it didn’t hit, it did have the desired effect of scaring the thing away. The giant girl kneeled down and looked at you curiously. She reached down and picked you up gently, holding you up for inspection. “You’re one of the servants aren’t you?”
“Y-yes my lady,” you say. Everyone knew Arya Stark, the Hand’s daughter. “I’m not sure how I ended up this way; I was headed towards the kitchens when I found myself this size.”
“Well, you’re my pet now,” she said, placing you on her shoulder. “Better be good or I’ll feed you to something.” Well, not knowing how to get back to normal, being under her protection would be better than nothing, and far better her than the queen or the prince.
“I’ll be good, I swear!” Arya was a bit of a troublemaker, but she wasn’t vicious. You clung to her shirt as she walked through the castle, wondering where she was headed.
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