"Father told us the King is heading North…"
The girl to whom this was directed might as well have been a statue for all the stock she put in his words. Her eyes flickered like irritable little birds, never quite settling on one spot before jumping off to another. She didn't even turn to look at him as she crouched down slightly to scan lower, she looked deranged. "Have you seen Arya? I can't find her and she's been called for needlework."
"You don't have to bend down like that, you know. You're barely taller than she is."
She turned just long enough to shoot him a dirty look, she didn't correct him though. She might still be growing but it was unlikely and most of the Stark children were catching up quickly. It was a sore point and Jon knew it.
"Have you checked by the training field?" He picked up speed to catch up with her. His longer legs made it simple, and trailing behind made him feel like one of the younger brood that she cared for, they were of an age and he held enough rank over her to feel frustrated by his treatment, he might be a bastard but the servant girl should defer to him, shouldn't she? He caught her wrapping the strings of her apron around her fingers, tightly enough to turn them white and then unwrapping them, then starting the process again. Jon reached out and tugged them out of her hand, feeling himself soften his stance slightly. Arya could be a difficult charge, and it wouldn't just be the younger girl in trouble if Pippa couldn't get her under control.
"Of course, and the stable and the kitchens. I feel like she's running just ahead of me and leading me in circles. Lady Stark is going to roast the both of us and serve as at the King's feast." Her dark curls were fighting the pins in them with a fervor that most knights would have admired. The whole chase had only served to frustrate the girl. She felt like she was at a hunt only she couldn't follow any of the step that would actually lead to her finding her prey, it felt like a waste of time and energy and she knew that Arya would be found when Arya was hungry, or bored of waiting for someone to find her or any of the hundreds of other reasons Arya had for doing was Arya did.
Jon's hands itched to tuck those curls back, but he curled his fingers into fists and used his elbow to nudge her, "So you were paying attention."
She rolled her eyes, "Of course. I always pay attention when you Stark pups open your pretty little-" She didn't finish her sentence which was probably for the best since it wasn't likely to be appropriate or flattering to anyone involved.
She had tucked her skirts up to a height that any other woman on the premises would have found shocking. Was finding shocking. Pippa didn't seem to mind, she ran across the courtyard and slid along the mud, almost tripping and spraying it all up her legs and the inside of her dress. She reached down alongside a horseless cart and hooked a thin little leg and threw it over her shoulder to pick up Arya like a sack of potatoes. The shocked girl dropped the tart she was holding but didn't seem to comprehend what had happened enough to struggle. Jon stared at the two of them, before laughter took over and he found he couldn't stop. Arya's face flicked from shock to disbelief to frustration to anger, Pippa grit her teeth and brought the girl back down to the ground, holding her firmly by the wrist.
"Let's go."
Arya tried to pull away slightly, but found her captor was none too willing to let her have any sense of freedom, "Don't make me, Pip. You know how awful it is. Just tell them you couldn't find me."
Jon pulled into the other side of Arya and gently put his hand on her shoulder. Pippa shook her head vehemently, "You know I can't do that, don't make this anymore difficult Arya, please. Let's get you cleaned up, and I'll bring you something hot from the kitchens."
Arya dug her heels into the mud and put her free hand on her hips. Both Pippa and Jon stopped. It wouldn't have been difficult to drag the girl along. She was a little slip of a thing, powered more by willpower than muscle. Regardless, Pippa turned to face her, kneeling down slightly to be face to face with Arya. Arya frowned at the older girl, "You wouldn't treat Sansa like this."
Pippa frowned but didn't let go, "Sansa doesn't treat me like this, does she? I'm not a hunting dog, little wolf. And I am not made to go hunting for little girls who don't want to have warm things to eat or a nice soft place to sit. I'm a servant, not a slave, and I'm certainly not your personal whipping boy. If you don't get found, it is not only you who is scolded." Arya looked to interrupt, but Pippa held up a finger, "I am not your enemy. I am doing my duty to your Lord Father and your Lady Mother. If you want to muck about in the mud, be more careful about whom you're born to, yes?"
Arya glared into her face for another second before nodding, in return Pippa let her wrist go and kept walking towards Arya's chambers.
Pippa looked over Arya's head at Jon, her brow creasing slightly. He shrugged in response. She raised her eyebrows, her eyes bugging out slightly, he rolled his eyes, quirking his own eyebrows up for a second. This seemed to satisfy Pippa and she turned her attention forward again; then brought her hand gently to the back of Arya's neck. Arya glanced up at her, "Could I have a strawberry tart?"
"Will you wash behind your ears?"
"Fine."
"Fine."
Jon walked with them to the hallway outside Arya's room but stayed outside as Pippa ushered the girl in. He loitered for a moment until Pippa slipped back out. She had a streak of mud across her cheek and her skirts were still sodden, when she took his hand, hers was cold. They pressed themselves into an alcove, and she let go, tucking her hands into the pockets of her apron. "You won't tell, will you? What I said to Arya?"
Jon almost laughed; she looked to penitent now, where she had been so fierce before. The curls were still uncontrolled all over her face except for the few plastered down by rain and mud, he itched to shake her and hold her. "Of course I won't. You ought to be more careful, someone will hear you one day and tell Lady Catelyn."
"And I'll be back to starting fires in the morning and helping the stable hands birth horses. I know." She settled back against the stone wall. The tilt of her cheek and the jut of her chin never seemed to agree with the way she bowed her head and mimicked the other servants at their work. She was a wild-thing, not unlike Arya, but too accustomed to drudgery to fight as hard as the younger girl did. She was a decent liar, good enough to imitate but never enough to avoid standing out, even that little bit. It was the only reason she could hope to be a match for the Stark pups and it was the same reason that she had gone without dinner more often than not when her role had been kitchen drudge. She wasn't made for walls. But walls certainly made everything a great deal more comfortable, she liked comfort. "So. What's got you so excited about the King coming North then?" Green eyes caught his grey ones, and Jon saw for a moment the sparkle that he was sure belonged just to him.
"It's nothing, you should get back to Arya, she's bound to have flooded the place by now."
Her brow furrowed again, and he could have sworn he saw a bit of rejection in set of her shoulders. It gave him a bit of satisfaction to have that control, even if it wasn't good or kind, she wasn't particularly any one of those things either. "Fine. I'll see you at dinner Jon Snow." She brushed past him and slipped back into the room, the two girls seemed to be friends again, judging by the lilting laughter.
Jon set off to find Robb. He'd had enough of the mysteries of womenfolk for now, even ones who paraded around in mud and pulled him into alcoves. Pippa was a constant question and he found the answer wasn't as important to him the longer he was around her. That was a problem, wasn't it?
