"I wish we didn't have to be here." Arya grumbled.
Sansa raised an eyebrow and stared at her sister cooly. "Do you think that I want to be in Darry either? The Queen wants us to make stops along the way north so that is what we are doing."
The sisters were headed north to Winterfell for Lord Rickon Stark's wedding. Along the way they were making stops at various castles to ensure that the Lords remembered that their Queen thought of them. Their husbands were hunting at that moment, and their children were at play by the riverbank. The sisters were near their children, and spending time catching up with one another. It had been about a year since they had last seen one another.
The years had changed them much in some ways and little in others. Sansa was still the model of a proper woman. She managed the affairs of her household as a wife and mother. She dressed in the finest gowns a woman of her position could wear. She was kind and gentle to her people. Arya was on the other hand was nothing like her sister. Lady Arya was the Queen's sword. She wore soft leather breaches and silk shirts. A sword always hung by her side, though it was no longer her Needle, that sword was now her daughter's. Motherhood and quiet inner strength were seemingly the only things the young women had in common, but for them it was enough. They were family and nothing would ever separate them again.
Her sister sighed. "I know. I just... I can push away the past most of the time. Some days though. I feel like a nine year old girl again. Especially here."
Sansa reached out and held her sister's hand in her own. "I feel that way here too. I remember them all. The King and Queen, the Princes and Princess, their court. I remember father and Lady most of all. I was so angry at him. So angry at you. What a fool I was."
Arya squeezed her hand and laughed. "Yes, you were."
Sansa pulled away. "Hey! That's not fair!"
The brunette shrugged and laughed harder. "I only agreed with you."
Her sister giggled and shook her head. "So long ago. In the Long Summer, when nothing was wrong with the world until we came here."
They heard loud splashes in the water and happy children shouting. The sisters walked closer to the river to see what the children were doing. There were four of them in the river and four upon the riverbank: Cat, Brandon, Eddard, Jon, Catelyn, Robb, Lyenne, and Nymeria. Cat was the one doing the most shouting. She was Arya's firstborn, and looked exactly like her mother. She was holding something long and metallic in her hands, laughing as her brothers Brandon and Jon and her cousin Eddard tried to help her retrieve her prize.
"Catelyn, Robb, Lyenne, what are your brother and cousins doing?" Sansa asked sharply.
Catelyn looked at her mother, suddenly worried. The ten year old girl looked much like her namesake, though her eyes are grey-green instead of Tully blue. "Cat wanted to find rubies. Brandon never tells her no and Eddard always does what Brandon does. Jon joined them too. I kept Robb, Lyenne, and Nymeria up here. They wanted to play in the water too"
Sansa shook her head. "You should discipline your daughter more Arya."
Arya just laughed. "She is my child. I teach her discipline with a sword not a river. The Queen doesn't mind."
"The Queen teaches her daughters to ride dragons, but they are still ladies."
"So is my daughter. She just isn't afraid to hold a sword and fight for what she wants."
"She's thirteen! You should be seeking a marriage for her, not teaching her to be a knight!"
Arya shrugged. "She could always marry Eddard, he's twelve and doesn't mind her wildness."
Sansa wrinkled her nose. "They know one another too well."
"Cat!" Arya shouted, ignoring her sister for the moment. "What are you trying to drag out of the river? I don't want you to drown!"
The girl finally made it back to the riverbank. Her shirt and trousers were clinging to the forming curves of her body, and her hair hung as a dark, thick, mass down her back and in front of her eyes. She was holding the metal object in her hands. "I found a sword mother. The boys were helping me get it out of the river. It has no sheath and was half buried."
Arya and Sansa both gasped. They looked between one another and the sword. "Let me see the sword." Dutifully the girl handed her mother the sword. Arya handled the sword as though she had seen a ghost.
"It can't be his sword." Sansa whispered, not even convincing herself. "There must be a thousand swords in this river from all the battles that were fought here."
Arya shook her head. "Men have their swords looted before they are thrown into the river, even Prince Rhaegar. This sword though..." She knew its weight and owner, ghosts of her pasts. "I know this sword."
The eyes of all the children widened. They had decided to swarm around their mothers, staring at the sword Cat had pulled from the river. Suddenly there were eight young voices all wanting to know how their mothers seemed to know the sword that Cat had found. Eventually they convinced the children to all sit on the ground so that they might be told the swords story.
"Once upon a time we two were very young." Sansa said with a wistful tone. "We were nine and eleven I think, when we left Winterfell for King's Landing. We traveled with a King and Queen and a... a handsome Prince." She paused and glared at Arya when she scoffed. "He was handsome but cruel and young Lady Arya defended a boy against the evil Prince. She flung the Prince's sword into the river. For years and years it lay buried in the sand of the river until this very day."
"You threw this sword into the river mother?" Cat gasped. The children all stared wide-eyed at Lady Arya.
Arya smiled. "I would have used it on the sweet Prince if I had known what he would become one day. I do think that is enough story telling for one day however. It is late and your fathers will be returning soon. I know my sweet sister would hate for all of you to be so messy when your fathers return."
There was grumbling, but the children all complied. As they walked, Arya pulled her Cat aside. "Will you keep that sword and Needle?"
The girl thought a long moment. "I will give this sword to Brandon. He helped me get it. I want to keep Needle."
Arya kissed the messy wet hair atop her daughter's head. "It seems fitting to give such a sword to Brandon." Arya didn't explain to her daughter why. Some details of the family's past were best left untold.
AN: Random idea that came to me, oneshot. Sorry if I didn't catch grammar and other related issues.