Arya tried not to seem too excited when she returned to Winterfell. The great city gates were heavily guarded, but the guards bent down to greet Arya, as she entered the city. Her father had taught her to be respectful and kind to the common people, so she gave them a royal nod and a modest smile and walked into the big castle, where the Stark family lived.
Sansa was already in her room getting ready for the feast. She felt sad and did not really understand why a feast was appropriate so shortly after burying their lord and ruler. Sansa cared little for politics and warfare, but she understood that it was important to have a solid army and a strong ruler. She had never imagined herself being a part of the council or to have her say in how to defend Winterfell and the rest of the North. She wanted a different life, but did not yet know how.
Of course there was Loras too. The young man wanting to be a part of the Lord's Guard. As Sansa was brushing and braiding Myrcella's hair for tonight's feast, she was thinking about Loras. He was young and handsome with blond hair, a mild face and smiling eyes. He had a good soul and worked hard too. He came from a struggling family, but Lord Stark had taken the family in and helped them get back on their feet. Loras' father used to be a blacksmith and his mother was one of Lady Cersei's maids. He had four siblings, all younger, who idolized their older brother.
"Ouch", Myrcella suddenly cried, and Sansa woke up. She had accidentally pulled her sister's hair while braiding it. Her sister bruised easily and was always a bit fragile. Sansa wondered how this girl could possibly be a girl of the North? Maybe it was their mother's blood shining through. Lady Cersei had been living closer to the border to the South in Dorne, living on agriculture and fishing. Their capital had been Sunspear, but after heavy fights, the city was extinct and the people scattered everywhere.
"Sorry, honey", Sansa apologized, and her sister smiled while looking at her new dress.
"I want to look pretty tonight", Myrcella said, hugging the dress. She was like a doll when it came to appearance and clothing. It was all she cared about, but her family let her – she was only a child, and her mother actually liked that she was like that – all girly and pretty like a real lady or maybe even a queen one day. Lady Cersei had three daughters, but she had no hope for her eldest, Sansa, who was not a trueborn. As good-looking as she was, she never had a chance to be wed to a powerful man from a wealthy and powerful House. Lady Cersei regretted this, but she was not able to change facts. Her other daughter, Arya, was a disaster to her. Under the masculine exterior with her sword and armour, there was a sweet and feminine face that she never showed, and Lady Cersei was unable to understand why Arya was fighting her nature. She was a woman and supposed to act accordingly. Every time Lord Stark had let her be a part of the strategy meetings and warfare sessions she had urged him not to, but the Lord had laughed since he liked their daughter a lot. He especially loved her attitude and clever mind when it came to warfare. Lady Cersei couldn't count all the times she had been infuriated when her husband had told Arya what a great leader she would make. He was supposed to tell that to his son Joffrey and not his daughter.
"I think mother will appreciate that", Sansa answered and put the small bows made from ribbons into her sister's hair. She already looked like a lady.
"It is not for mother", Myrcella said, jumping off from the chair and putting her dress on. Sansa helped her bind it.
"It is for sir Loras", Myrcella continued and smiled to the mirror in front of her. Behind her, Sansa froze for a second. She knew that Loras was handsome, but not that her own sister liked him. Her insecurities came back, telling her that she did not stand a chance next to a trueborn Stark. Not even her doll of a sister aged 10.
"Really? I don't think he is a "sir" yet", Sansa then said, making the final adjustments to Myrcella's dress.
"I don't care. He will be. Once he is older, he will join the Lord's Guard and protect Joffrey", Myrcella said while playing with her curls.
"What makes you think that Joffrey will be the new ruler?", Sansa just asked. Sansa had always assumed that Arya would be crowned the new ruler of Winterfell during the feast. She was the oldest and best fitted for being a leader.
Myrcella turned around and almost rolled her eyes at her sister.
"Because he is a boy".
Sansa tasted her words.
"I know, but Arya is older. Women rule too some places, you know".
"Maybe, but not here. I heard mother and Joffrey talking about his crowning", Myrcella answered and soon lost interest in the topic.
"But he is unkind and inexperienced. All he cares about is power. He can't be the new ruler", Sansa then said, feeling upset by the news.
"I don't know. I guess all rulers are evil sometimes", Myrcella then said, tired of the conversation and went to the door. "Are you coming?". She was impatient to enter the dining hall to find Loras.
Sansa got up and joined her.
"Father was not evil", she said to herself, thinking about the man she had always called father.
Arya had changed into more comfortable clothing to join the feast. She wanted to look like the leader she was about to be appointed as. She walked slowly down the stairs next to the cold walls that were lit up by burning torches. In the dining hall, she found a long table with another table attached at the end, pointing the other way. It was the table for the Stark family and their closest counsellors. All the important people from Winterfell attended the feast. Arya arrived late so she could watch her new people. The mere thought made the hairs stand up on top of her head. In the middle of the Stark table, she saw her two sisters sitting down next to each other. Myrcella looked like a real princess in her pink dress, and she surely acted like she was a princess. Next to Myrcella was Sansa, impatiently looking for someone in the crowd. Arya chuckled to herself and easily guessed that Sansa was looking for Loras. Even though she tried to hide it, Arya knew that Sansa and Loras liked each other a lot, she just did not have the heart to tell her that it was never going to happen. Sansa was a dreamer, who lived in her own world most of the time, and because of that, she had never understood that highborn women or women in highborn families don't marry for love. They marry for alliances and connections. That was why Arya never wanted to get married, and of course she did not have to now. She smiled again and let Sansa live her innocent romance.
The servants and members of the council bowed for her as she walked past them. She smiled to them and gave another smile to sir Jorah, who had been her father's most trusted soldier. He was also a part of the council and second in command. Numerous times, sir Jorah had educated her in warfare and strategies, and he liked her a lot. She knew that most of her father's men liked her and valued her skills in warfare, combat, making of alliances and leadership.
She walked up to her table and gave her mother and brother a short nod. They looked at her the same way in a mixture of distrust, disapproval and anger. She ignored them as usual. She had lost an important ally in her father, but she responded the way he had taught her: not to weep for the lost but to put on a brave face and keep moving forward. There would always be new allies to find.
The feast began and several toasts were made in the honour of the deceased Lord Ned Stark. Stories about him were told, and where everybody else were laughing to celebrate him, both Sansa and Arya felt uneasy and uncomfortable. They were both missing him in their own way.
"Now, dear people of Winterfell", Lady Cersei then called out. She got up and looked out over the crowd. She was wearing black clothes to show her mourning, but it was a beautiful dress made from silk. It was made from the thickest silk to keep warm in the North, but it was low-cut with long sleeves. The low cut pattern was made decently with a delicate piece of lace covering the upper part of her bosom. She was wearing her long hair up under a hat with small, dark feathers from ravens.
"Today we will mourn the Lord of Winterfell, my beloved husband, who gave his life to protect the North", she continued, and everybody started cheering. She put her hand up to silence the crowd.
"But it is also time to crown the new ruler of Winterfell", she said. She smiled, which made Arya nervous. She looked at her brother. He was smiling too with a discomforting smile. He looked satisfied with himself and utterly happy. Arya's smile froze as she looked up at her mother again.
"And of course our new ruler and Lord will be no other than my son, son of Lord Ned Stark, Joffrey Stark".
Joffrey rose from his chair to accept the people's love, and people were also clapping and cheering. Not loud, but still. Arya on the other hand needed a couple of moments to let her mother's words sink in: Joffrey was the new ruler, not her, as she was supposed to be.
As the people stopped cheering, Joffrey began to speak.
"Thank you, dear citizens of Winterfell. I know my father is a tough man to follow, but I will try my best. With the guidance from his council, which is now my council, I believe I will be in safe hands, and so will you. My father was a modest man, and I respect that. His purpose was to defend the North, not to expand it, but my reign will be different", Joffrey almost shouted. He waited for people to cheer him on before clearing his throat.
"I, Joffrey Stark, Lord of Winterfell, will do better than my father. My reign will make Winterfell bigger and more powerful, and everybody in Westeros will come to fear Winterfell. We will rule Westeros in a short time, I promise you that", he shouted. He had expected to receive plenty of applause, but for a moment people were just staring at him. They all thought the same: Winterfell had never been wealthier or better, and nobody wanted to jeopardize that. The northerners wanted peace, and from what they were now hearing, the new ruler would not bring them peace. He would bring them war. Then they started applauding him, and he never noticed their hesitation.
Arya kept the shock inside her for the rest of the feast. When it ended, Joffrey got up before she did. He looked at her with an evil smile.
"Surprised?", he then asked and grinned. Their mother got up behind him and smiled that deceiving smile too.
"You can't rule anything", Arya said with a cold voice. She was infuriated but was hiding it.
"I can. And I will", Joffrey then said and made a mocking bow in front of her.
"And you let this happen. You know I am the best leader to rule Winterfell", Arya said to her mother.
"No, you are not. You are a woman and have no claim to the power", she said in an ice cold voice that sent shivers down Arya's spine. She could not believe this was happening. She had always known that her mother disliked her, but not that she hated her like this and tried to ignore her true qualities.
"Father told me that I would make a great ruler. He wanted me to rule", Arya kept arguing, even though she knew her efforts were in vain.
Lady Cersei insulted her daughter by almost yawning in front of her. "You father is dead, and you were never meant to rule", she then said and looked directly into Arya's eyes. Her eyes were hateful and malicious. It was easy for Arya to notice.
"You still hate me for what happened back then with Sansa, don't you? And you let that cloud your judgement", Arya then said, recalling the past. Her mother looked scornfully at her, and for a moment it seemed as though she was about to confess.
"No, I don't. I'm being sensible and rational", she said and started to walk away, before turning around.
"But yes, I haven't forgotten that day and what you did, you evil, hateful creature. If it hadn't been for your father, I would have married you off years ago", she said and walked away, leaving only the sound of her heels slamming into the ground behind her.
Joffrey laughed and gloated in his sister's misfortune.
"You know what? Now I have the power to marry you to some despicable nobody far away from here, where you can do nothing but obey his commands. You remember lord Frey?", he said, laughing to himself. He was obviously enjoying himself and his new power.
Arya just stared as he left too, still laughing. She was almost trembling as she realized what horrible position she was in now. Her hands were tied, and her well-being in the hands of people who wanted to see her suffer. The trembling got worse when she thought of lord Frey. He had been one of her father's bannermen, but he had cut him loose when he found out that he was a nasty wife-beater, who took many wives only to torture and abuse them.
She felt worse and worse and sank into deeper despair, but she was still in the hall, so she had to keep her cool. As she was about to leave, sir Jorah came to her with a sad look in his eyes.
"I know", he said, giving her arm a squeeze, "We all expected you to take your father's place. We all stand behind you, you have to know that", he said. She managed a smile and thanked him, before heading to her room.
On her way, she bumped into her sister Sansa. Sansa was as bewildered as she was. Arya and Sansa didn't exactly get along very well, but they had no disregard for each other either.
"I did not see that coming", Sansa then said in a quiet voice. There was an easily detected sadness in her tone.
"No, me neither", Arya responded, looking away from Sansa. After her mother reminded her of what happened years ago between her and Sansa, it was hard for Arya to look at Sansa. It had been her fault, and one moment of misery and hatred had turned her into a monster. She knew that, but she had only been eleven years old at the time.
"You are going to be fine", Sansa then tried to comfort her. Arya looked unkindly at her sister.
"If I were you, I would convince that Loras of yours to elope. Otherwise your fate will be as cruel as mine", she then said and rushed away.