Firstly to everyone reading this I would like to give a great big, huge shout-out to DarkAnubis27 who wrote this first chapter but then put it up for adoption due to losing inspiration and then picked me for the honor to continue writing it. I only hope to live up to the high standards they set so yeah... lots of feed back and love will help me out to keep this fanfic at this high standard. I also don't own A song of Ice and Fire so yeah... consider yourself warned!

King's Landing, 299 AD, 4 Days before

Sansa had heard the sounds of conflict from her chambers, high in the Red Keep. She ran downstairs, thoughts echoing around her head endlessly. Jeyne Poole trailed behind her, still nagging at her about how they would be safer in their chambers.

I need to find Father, and Arya too.

She was about to pass around a corner to the West Hall when she heard footsteps. She turned slowly to see a gold cloak walking briskly towards her and Jeyne.

"Lady Sansa, I will escort you back to your chambers."

He made to grab her arm, but Sansa pulled back, gazing at him suspiciously.

"Where is my father? I command you to take me to him."

The gold cloak narrowed his eyes and grabbed her arm and her it in an iron grip.

"Stop!", she tugged, trying to pull herself from his grip. "Let go of me! I am a Lady."

He raised his other fist, as though to strike her.

He never got the chance.

Blood bubbled from his mouth, and it was then that Sansa saw the arrow protruding from his throat.

Behind her, Jeyne screamed.

Sansa pulled herself from the dying man in horror, and whirled around. Panic seized her when she saw him there, until she saw the grey direwolf embroidered on the breast of his surcoat. He was one of her father's men.

"You must run my lady, they have seized your father, go to the stables, and get out!" He yelled.

Sansa stared at him, her mind working slowly, sluggishly, still not fully understanding the situation. Jeyne grabbed her forearm and pulled her along, sobbing as she ran. Sansa felt a cold fist close around her heart as she saw the first body, but when she again turned her eyes to the end of the hall she sat it was littered with bodies, Stark and Lannister both. They tore towards the stables. They encountered no-one as they ran, twisting and turning through the corridors.

Are we even running towards the stables? We could be running right to the Throne Room for all I know.

But somehow they emerged from that nightmare of passages into the courtyard. They passed beneath and overpass, and found themselves at the stables.

Sansa saw Arya kneeling on the tome, a slim sword in her hand, she seemed to be in shock. It was only as she got closer that she saw the boy. She froze on the spot, stomach in full rebellion against her. Her sister was beside him, the edge of her sword stained with blood. Arya turned to look at her.

"I… I di… didn't m… mean to."

"It doesn't matter now." Sansa voiced as Arya pulled herself to her feed. The sound of approaching footsteps snapped Arya out of her shock.

"Sansa, run, take a horse and leave, you need to get out."

"But…"

"Not buts! You need to go, or the gold-cloaks will capture you!"

Sansa looked at her sister helplessly.

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine." Arya gave her sister a sad smile.

"I… I can't."

"Sansa." Arya's expression was deadly serious this time, all memory of the smile gone from her face, "Take the fucking horse."

Sansa stared at her sister, shocked. Arya was wild, as any decent northerner was, but she never cursed. She saw for the first time how serious this was.

She grabbed the reins of the nearest horse, and clambered onto its back, not side-saddle like she'd been riding for years, but with her legs split. It felt strange, but she shrugged the feeling off.

She looked back at her sister one more time as she spurred her horse from the stables.

Arya closed her eyes as Sansa rode away. She didn't even bother fighting the gold cloaks when they seized her and Jeyne. They dragged them to the throne room, along with several others they had taken prisoner.

At least she's safe.

Relief flooded through when she heard that the gold cloaks had been unsuccessful in locating Sansa.

The next few days were awful. The queen had Arya bathed and dressed in a gown, as befits a lady. She spent most of her time in her chambers, not allowed to speak to anyone. She harassed her servant when they refused to speak to her, shouting and begging. On one occasion she fell at the feet of her handmaid, clutching her leg, screaming at her to tell her of her father.

3 days she spent in her tower, until some of her questions were answered.

King's Landing, 299 Ad, 1 Day Before

There was a knock at the door.

Arya stood and went to answer it, expecting another mute servant, only to be greeted by the Queen.

"The King requests your attendance in the Throne Room." The Queen said, eyeing her rumpled, dishevelled appearance.

"I will make myself presentable before going before the King, if it pleases Your Grace."

"It would." Cersei waved some handmaids into the room, where they began to draw a bath for her.

Arya was dressed in a gown of grey myrish lace and silver samite. The gown was edged in black, and it's silk under-layers were of grey silk. It was as though they were trying to make her lineage more pronounced by her blothing, which it did, infuriatingly, work rather well. Arya's hair was coiled into an alaborate bun on the top of her head, a string of opals were placed at her throat.

"Why am I dressed so extravagantly, Your Grace?"

"Because, stupid child," Cersei hissed, "You need to look absolutely stunning, otherwise Joff will never agree to this."

"Agree to what? Arya asked. Cersei didn't answer. As soon as she was dressed and ready, she was escorted from her room to the Throne Room.

Arya had never previously noticed how far her chambers were from the Throne Room. It might have been ten minutes or more until they entered the Throne Room.

Joffery sat atop the Iron Throne, picking at the handles in boredom. He did a double take when he saw her, as did many of the nobles in attendance.

No doubt they would, they had beard that Eddard Stark's youngest daughter was wild as an animal.

Joffery stood, and addressed the hall.

"I am here today to hear the troubles of the counsel, and any proposals you may have for me."

There were many and more come to see the new king. Men and women, nobles and commons alike came before Joffery to ask for things, and propose this or that. There were commoners coming to talk about stolen pigs, broken pipes and insurance for their houses, and nobles come to ask of Eddard Stark. Arya listened to the latter most carefully. But Joffery's answer was always the same.

"The crimes of Lord Stark will be answered on the morrow, as will his sentence."

Finally, though, all the commons had melted away, and it was Arya's turn, she knew what she had been brought here to do.

She was led before the King, and sank to her knees at the foot of the stairs.

"Your Grace, I understand the crimes committed by my traitor father are punishable by death, and I know that whatever judgement you carry out will be just and lawful. I ask only this, he is a traitor, my mother and brother also, but he is also my father, and I ask only mercy for him, if you would be as kind to reward such a man with this gift." Tears were gathering at the corners of her eyes, but she forced them back.

"Stand."

Arya pulled herself up off the ground.

"My lady, you have touched me with your words, I will gift what mercy I believe your father deserves."

"Thank you, Your Grace, I could ask for nothing more for a traitor."

Arya stepped back as Cersei stood to make an announcement.

"Your Grace, as you know, your betrothed, The Lady Sansa Stark, has disappeared, we have been unable to locate the girl, but my reports show that she might still be in the city. However, it is believed that the girl has perished."

"A shame," Joffery said "But who will take Sansa's place as my betrothed?"

"I will understand if you deny her, Your Grace, but I offer up the Lady Arya Stark, to take her sister's place."

Arya stared at the Queen. Gasps and whispers erupted all over the hall.

No, no, no, I can't marry Joffery, he's horrible, he'll just abuse me and torture me, and anyway, he hates me.

Joffery looked at his mother a moment, considering it.

"Well mother, I must say, I originally thought the Lady Arya was nothing like her beautiful sister, but now what I see her garbed as befits a lady, I cannot deny that she shares the same beauty as her sister. Lady Arya, I will gladly wed you."

Arya forced a gracious smile, all the while thinking no, no, no.

Cersei stood again. "Well Your Grace, it seems that all matters have been addressed. Council dismissed!"

The crowd dissipated, and Arya was waiting to return to her chambers, when she heard her new husband-to-be calling her.

"Lady Arya!"

Arya halted, and taking a deep breath to prepare herself, turned to face Joffery, smiling.

"Good Morning, Your Grace."

"So, it seems that you are to be my wife."

Arya smiled again. "It seems so, Your Grace."

"I had honestly taken you for a wild, until I saw you walk in this morning, you will be just as beautiful on our wedding day."

Arya just smiled and nodded again. I can see right through him, but he thinks I am as dense as Sana. I will play his little game for now, say what he wants, please him, but if he thinks he can control me, he has another thing coming.

King's Landing, 299 AD, The Day

Arya stood atop the steps of Baelor, looking out at the gargantuan crowd that had gathered to watch the trial of Eddard Stark.

The crowd consisted of hundreds, perhaps even thousands, and every one of them was angry. She could see people from Dorne, from the North and the Reach, from Lys and Mry and Colantis, from the Crannog and the Iron Islands. People from every corner of the earth were here. Arya had always known that the cultural diversity of King's Landing was cast and impressive but only now did she appreciate its scale and complexity.

She heard a chorus of shouts and jeers, and turned her head, scanning the stairs until she saw him.

Father.

He was being led out in chains, his hair was dirty, his clothes bedraggled, but she felt only an unquenchable happiness to see him unharmed.

He won't be that way for long.

Joffery had promised to have mercy on him, but Arya knew that his word was worth about as much as a cup of goat piss.

Her father was led up to stand at the top of the stairs. Now he will confess the crimes he never committed.

"I, Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, and Hand of the King, come before you on this day to confess my crimes in the sight of Gods and men. I promised to King Robert Baratheon to forever protect and council his children, but before his blood was cold, I plotted to kill them and steal their birth right."

A stone sailed from the crowd and hit him in the brow. He stumbled, but regained his footing, and continued his speech.

"Joffery Baratheon, First of his name, is the rightful King of Westeros and the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the realm, may he judge my crimes in the sight of the Gods."

Joffery smirked triumphantly.

"My mother has begged for you to be granted to take the black, so you may live out the remainder of our life serving the realm. My new bride to be, Arya Stark, has begged for mercy for her father. But they have the soft hearts of women, so long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished."

Fear climbed in Arya's throat, everyone's eyes were now on Joffery, waiting in anticipation.

"Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!"

The crowd exploded into noise.

"No!" Arya screamed. She struggled, pulling and screaming when she was seized by a guard.

Even the Queen was protesting.

"Stop this, Joffery, this is madness!"

But not eve his mother seemed to be able to sway him. And Arya could only watch in horror as Ilyn Payne drew a great long sword from a fur scabbard.

Ice…

Arya was pulling and struggling right up to the point Ser Ilyn swung the sword and cleaved right through her father's neck.

The darkness took her.