A/N: Arya should be about… 12 I think. Gendry's still 15.

"My mother bids me let Lord Eddard take the black, and Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father." Joffrey turned and looked straight at Sansa and smiled. Arya held her breath, wondering if the gods had heard her prayer and decided not to take her father.

"But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!"

The crowd roared.

Arya threw herself into the crowd, drawing Needle and slashing wildly at the crowd as it surged. A rough hand grabbed her arm and drew her around, pressing her to its owner. A face pressed close to hers, long black hair and tangled beard and rotten teeth. "Don't look!" a thick voice snarled at her.

"I…I…I…" Arya sobbed.

He shook her so hard her teeth rattled in her head. "Shut your moth and close your eyes, boy." The crowd suddenly held its breath.

Sansa's scream pierced the silence. Torn and bloody.

The man's fingers dug into her arm, stiff as iron. "Look at me. Yes that's the way of it, at me." Sour wine perfumed his breath. "Remember, boy?"

Arya saw the greasy hair, the patched, dusty black cloak, and the hard black eyes. But it was the smell that did it. She remembered the black brother who had come to visit her father.

"Know me now, do you? There's a bright boy." He spat. "They're done here. You'll be coming with me, and you'll be keeping your mouth shut." When Arya opened her mouth to reply, he shook her again. "Shut, I said."

She trailed listlessly beside him… Yoren, yes, his name is Yoren.

He looked at Needle in her hand. "Hope you can use that, boy."

"I'm not –" she started.

He shoved her into the doorway, yanking her head back. "—not a very smart boy, is that what you mean to say?"

He had a knife in his other hand.

Arya thrashed wildly at the sight of the blade, kicking wilding. But his grip held strong and true, and he sawed rough patches of her hair off.

Sansa's screams were still echoing through Arya's ears.


Afterward, Yoren told her that she'd be Arry the orphan boy from here to Winterfell. "Gate shouldn't be hard, but the road's another matter. You got a long way to go in bad company. I've got around thirty o' them. Men and boys headed for the wall. And don't be thinking they're like that bastard brother o' yours." He shook her. "Lord Eddard gave me pick o' the dungeons, and I didn't find no little lordlings down there, I didn't. This lot, half o' them would turn you over to the queen quick as spit for a pardon and maybe a few silvers. The other half'd do the same, only they'd rape you first. So keep to yourself and make your water in the woods, alone. And don't drink no more water'n you need."

He pushed her roughly into the rest of the group and left her.

"Oy! Hot Pie! Come have a look at this!" A scrawny boy with a head of hair the colour of dull hay sneered at her. "What's that you got there, Lumpyhead?"

The one named Hot Pie walked over to her. "Where's a gutter rat like you get a sword? Give it here."

"I bet he's a squire."

"He's no squire, look at him! He looks like a girl. I bet he stole that sword."

Arya looked away.

The skinny boy pushed her roughly to the floor. "I'm talking to you! Give it here if you want to live. Hot Pie here's killed a boy before."

Why couldn't they just leave her alone?

"I knocked him down and I kicked him in the balls, and I kept kicking him and kicking him, until he was dead." Hot Pie boasted. "I kicked him all to pieces. You better gimme that sword."

Now she was angry. She got up, and pointed Needle at him. "Oh, you want this sword, do you? I bet you've never even killed anyone. I have. A fat boy, just like you. I'm good at killing fat boys. I like killing fat boys." Hot Pie walked into a tall, muscled boy with jet black hair and bright blue eyes, who turned.

"Oh, you like picking on the little ones, do you? You know I've been hammering an anvil these past ten years. When I hit the steel, it sings. You gonna sing when I hit you?"

Hot Pie and the scrawny boy cowered and ran off.

The tall boy turned his attention to Needle. "This is castle forged steel." He said. "Where'd you get it?"

"I didn't steal it!"

"Never said you did."

"It was a gift." She mumbled.

"Well, don't matter now. Where we're going, they don't care what you are. We've got rapers, pick pockets, highwaymen, murderers…

She looked up at him. "Which are you?"

"Armorer's apprentice." His eyes fell. "But my master got sick o' me, so here I am."

Arya opened her mouth to reply, but Yoren's bellow broke her off.

"COME ON, YOU SONS OF WHORES! It's a thousand leagues from here to the wall! And Winter is coming!"