Catelyn Stark walked towards a meeting with one their newest servants. Septa Mordane, who had come to Winterfell at Catelyn's own request to teach her daughters to become proper ladies.

Catelyn tried very hard not to show in her posture how much she dreaded this meeting.

Normally, she'd hold this talk in the castle Solar, but that room was just a bit too accessible for the other servants. Catelyn didn't want anybody to overhear this talk.

As lady Stark entered the room, Mordane gave her a small nod of respect.

Catelyn made a show of asking about the other woman's welfare. Just like her, Mordane came from the south, and so Catelyn knew that adjusting could be hard. But honestly, Catelyn didn't really care at the moment, and was merrily being polite.

"So how are my girls doing?" Catelyn finally asked.

"It's only been a week my lady. I've mostly been familiarizing myself with them."

"I'm only asking after your first general impression. Let's start with Arya." The least problematic one of the two.

"She's a real bundle of energy that one. Can't sit still." Mordane gave a fond smile. "But we were all young once. I'm sure she'll be a proper lady in due time."

Catlyne nodded, having expected as mush. Arya was even more energetic and wilder than Rob had been at that age. She'd have to grow out of that eventually, but for now, children were allowed to be children.

"And Sansa?"

The room grew quiet. Mordane's expression grew sombre, and her eyes glazed over as if she had just seen a ghost. "She's a modal student. She has the bearings and etiquette of a girl twice her age. I wanted to wait to start on her education, but at her insistence, I've begun to teach of The Seven."

"And?" Catelyn pressed.

A look of worry appeared on the Septa's face. "She's a very bright young girl."

'This won't do,' Catelyn thought. "If there is any kind of problem, I want to be aware of it. You won't be reprimanded for uttering any kind of negative opinion. I promise you."

Mordana visibly mustered her courage. "She's. . . not normal my lady," she answered and struggled to find the proper words to explain further. "If she were older, at first glance, I'd judge her to be the perfect lady. A young woman lords would fight over to betroth their heirs to. She's perfect. Too perfect."

"The things you say aren't unknown to me Septa. I'm hoping whether a fresh perspective matches my own."

"No normal girl should be that focused or composed my lady. And for all her etiquette, none of it feels genuine. I've been around my lady. Almost all southern women practice the same etiquette, but not all believe in it. Some are just going through the motions because its expected, or useful. It's hard to tell sometimes, but Sansa is definitely that kind. And she's only seven! She says all the right things. Smiles at all the right times, but she can't fool me! There is something deeply wrong hidden underneath that smile." Mordane grew more agitated as she spoke.

"I promised you wouldn't be reprimanded for any negative impression you have of my daughters, and I meant it. But remember that she is a child. And I do expect you to work to fix those flaws in due time." Catelyn said. The lady of Winterfell didn't have much hope for that, but she still wanted her to try. How does one teach innocence? "At least help her in appearing normal."

"I will, my lady. I will."

Catelyn pitied the Septa. She really did.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Once upon a time Salaryman in modern day japan, one's a upon a time child prodigy war hero named Tanya von Degurechaff, and currently eldest daughter of Lord Eddark Stark was once again pondering what exactly she was missing about her current situation.

After she died in the last world she got reincarnated in, without submitting to Being-X, she had unexpectedly reincarnated again. After that, she had wondered in what kind of abomination of world she had been thrown into this time.

So far, she had been pleasantly surprised. On the one hand, this world was firmly stuck into the medieval period. Magic didn't seem to be commonplace, and the peasants lead short and dangerous lives. But on the other hand, she was born to nobility. High nobility even, just under the king in rank. Even if the North was the poorest of all the seven kingdoms, Sansa knew she enjoyed more luxury, education and opportunity than most people in this world. She even had a family that cared about her beyond her utility as a girl that can be married for political or monetary gain.

Sansa hadn't trusted any of it. If Being-X chose to dumb her here, that meant that whatever fate awaited Sansa Stark would be worse than simple none-existence. There had to be something she was missing, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what it was.

Until she did, Sansa would try do what she always did. Try to better her position in society and chase after the nebulous dream of retiring in luxury and safety. In a more modern world, that would mean working a stable job, advancing up the ranks in a company, and retiring once you had enough money spared up. Maybe the government also gave a hard work citizen a pension in their twilight years.

Things were both simpler and more complicated in this new world. The only way a person, especially a woman, could secure a safe retirement was if she had successful children to follow after and take care of her. That was the path this society seemed to have in store for her. Just like her previous world seemed set on giving her a military career.

Honestly, there were worse things. She just had to marry some rich lord, have a few kids, and her life was set. Though if her sexual preference from her last two lives held true, that might be a bit of a problem. But at least she didn't have to fear dying from a grenade. She literally had seen enough of combat to last a small lifetime. She didn't need any more of that, thank you very much!

Her father and mother seemed to love her, so if she played her cards right, she was sure to find a match that wasn't too terrible. Maybe she'd find someone who was gay, and so wouldn't ask for anymore intimacy than the absolute minimum required to have a child?

Sansa really hoped her preference would be men in this world. She'd avoid so many complications if it was. Being seven right now, it was too early to tell.

Regardless, upon graduating from the toddler stage and gaining some semblance of autonomy, she immediately set about raising her 'marked value' in this society. She learned all she could of the important houses in the lands. She demonstrated her skills with numbers. Learned to sing, dance, and for now, honed the adorableness that came with being a pretty seven-year-old girl until she could give a village diabetes by simply walking through it.

The only thing she struggled with was 'leadership', as the other children in the castle seemed to find her unnerving. Being high nobility had its perks though, and people like Jeyne Pool – the steward's daughter – had to be nice to her and follow her lead whether they liked to or not.

Hey! It wasn't her fault! She was an old soul in a young body. How was she supposed to relate to some snot-nosed brats?

Sansa, out of her own initiative, also made sure to check for suitable husbands herself that she wouldn't find too objectionable. She couldn't meet anybody personally, of course, but she could discover the names and status of the world's most eligible bachelors. Willes Tyrell, the heir to Highgarden. Renly Baratheon, the current Lord of Storm's end and lord paramount of the Stormlands. Joffrey Baratheon, the crown prince. Just to name a few.

Her mother doubtlessly intended for her and Arya to marry someone in the south. Why else would she hire a Septa from the south to teach them? Sansa had mixed feelings on this. On the one hand, the south was generally a lot richer than any house in the North, except maybe the Manderlys. And marrying into security and luxury was the goal. But on the other hand, if she married closer to home, she'd enjoy a different kind of protection. Nobody in the North, not even a potential future husband, would dare raise a hand to the daughter of their liege lord. She wouldn't enjoy that kind of protection if she went south. But then again, that was what all the training and lessons were for; to insure a peaceful family home with no need for such unpleasantness.

So, in the end, Sansa decided that her mother's decision to raise them in the ways of the South was for the best. It would take more work from her, but Sansa wasn't afraid to work for her success.

Her little sister on the other hand. . ..

"Slow down Arya! You're ruining it." Septa Mordane said. They were practicing needlework, and Mordane had made the mistake of telling them they could go play after they finished. In her haste, Arya had been even more sloppy than usual.

"It's ruined? Does that mean I can leave, or that I have to begin again?" Arya asked innocently.

Mordane pursed her lips. Her initial enthusiasm to 'fix' Arya had slowly morphed into frustration. On the other hand, Sansa had learned how to be less, well. . . openly herself, and gotten the old woman's approval. Sansa had cursed herself for her initial bad impression on the Septa, but she had learned from her mistake. The unconditional love from most of her family had made her lax.

"I won't reward you for doing a poor job girl. You'll sit there and watch how Sansa does it. Then after she leaves, you'll stay to finish your own work as best as you're able."

"That's not fair!"

"You would have been able to leave sooner if you'd paid more attention. Sloppy work is never rewarded Arya." It was these kinds of sentiments that made Sansa respect the Septa. "Now mind your sister."

Arya still looked mutinous but did as instructed. Her eyes were fixed on Sansa's perfectly stitched direwolf, jealously clearly visible on her face. She knew she wouldn't have been able to do this even if she had been giving it her all.

"If you need me to go slower, or explain something to you, please don't hesitate to ask sweet sister," Sansa said with a saccharine smile.

"No. I don't care," Arya said.

"Arya!" Mordane admonished.

"It's alright Septa. Arya is merely upset at how even her best efforts wouldn't be enough."

"No, I'm not!"

"Of course not," Sansa said, and there was no mistaking how disingenuous she sounded.

Arya ran out of the room, almost on the verge of tears.

Mordane turned disapproving eyes towards Sansa next. "Arya needs to do better. But there was no need to tease her so."

Sansa almost asked 'Did I say something wrong?' but managed to swallow her words. She had been teasing Arya. Sansa knew it was unfair of her. Arya's lacklustre attitude when it came to her education just rubbed Sansa the wrong way. Maybe it was because she had been an adult in a child's body twice over now, and Sansa – once Tanya – treated children like she wanted to be treated. Like adults. And if Arya was an adult employee in her company, and her job description was 'being a lady' Sansa would have fired her. At this rate, she'd become a burden for the company, or in this case, family.

That said, Sansa hadn't meant to make her cry. Her twisted nature simply got the better of her.

"Please allow me to go after her," Sansa asked. She did care about her sister, even if she was terrible at showing it.

Mordane looked at her searchingly and was apparently reassured by what she found. "We'll finish this tomorrow."

Sansa nodded gratefully and went to search for her wayward sister. Sansa first went to see her bastard brother, Jon, Arya's favoured sibling. But he hadn't seen her. That meant that Arya probably wanted to be alone. That meant the Godswood.

Sansa disliked the Godwood. As a rational atheist, she disliked anything to do with gods or the divine.

She found Arya sulking beneath the Heart tree.

"Go away."

"After I say I'm sorry," Sansa said, trying to mean the words. "Your young. You have plenty more years to learn."

"I'll never be as good as you."

A false reassurance was at the tip of Sansa's tongue, but the words wouldn't come. She was trying to be helpful and lying would not be.

"Just as well. I don't want to be like you."

"I'll try to contain my sorrow," Sansa couldn't help but say, earning another glare from Arya. "So, you don't want to be a lady? Then what do you want to be?"

"A knight! Or some great lord."

"And how will you accomplish this?" Sansa asked. Dammit. She had come here to console Arya, not mock her further. But the girl's delusions were making it hard.

"I'll ask father. Or Robb if he won't. Or I'll win some great tourney."

Sansa allowed for a few seconds of silence, hoping Arya herself would realize how stupid she sounded. "You really think that will work? And before you answer, remember where we are." It was a sin to lie within eyes of the Heart Three. Sansa refused believe in such superstition, but she knew Arya did.

Arya looked at the bloody carved face in the three and eventually uttered through clenched teeth. "It's not fair."

"No, it's not," Sansa agreed easily, which just seemed to upset Arya.

"Easy for you to say! You're the perfect lady, just like mother wants. You'd love nothing better than to marry some stupid lord and pretend to love him."

"Is that what you think?" Sansa asked. "I'd love nothing better than to rule a castle in my own name, under my own management. I'm smarter than you, Robb, or Jon. Yet even our bastard brother–"

"Don't call him that!'"

Now Sansa was glaring. "Here you go again. Being angry at something, as if that will make it go away. Things are as they are. Me not calling him our bastard brother will not make it go away. Yet he shouldn't complain, since even he has more chance of ruling a keep as one of Robb's bannerman than us girls. It's not fair, but it's reality. Fate has given us some opportunities and taken away others. I've merely chosen to make the best of the opportunities I do have."

Arya looked confused. "Too many words for you to understand, sweet sister?" Sansa asked.

"Piss of," Arya retorted. "And I don't believe you. If you really wanted to, you could become a great lord yourself. You're smart."

"Thank you," Sansa said. 'And maybe I will. Maybe I'll encourage my dear husband to have an accident and then rule in my son's name,' Sansa thought. But that would require an extensive risk/benefit analysis. "But working to undo our culture's gender-roles would require too much work and risk. It might benefit the generations that come after us, but me? Not so mush." Social revolutionaries seldom reap the benefit of their own work. "No. I'll carve out the most pleasant life I can for myself." The easiest path to wealth, luxury, and safety.

Arya again looked to the Heart Three for a few seconds, and she seemed to draw some sort of strength from it. "Well, I won't. I'm not like you. I'll be some great Knight. And I'll show everyone I can do it. That it can be done!"

'Interesting,' Sansa thought. Even if it was a foolish notion, the idea seemed to have light a fire in her little sister. 'Anything to get her to start applying herself. To turn her into a useful member of society.'

Sansa stepped closer to Arya and grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look her in the eye. Sansa felt a shiver run down her spine, like a warning, from the Godswood itself. Sansa ignore it. Gods didn't exist. "Easy words to say sweet sister. But can you do it? It won't be a happy path. It will be a journey filled with pain and blood and little chance of success. Most of the world will look down on you for your choice. You'll be mocked, ridiculed and punished repeatedly. So, can you do it?"

Arya tried to turn her head in Sansa's hand to look at the Heart Three again. Sansa allowed it and released her head. The silence stretched on for what felt like a minute. Sansa allowed Arya the time. She wanted for her answer to be genuine.

Arya turned to look at Sansa, a fierce scowl adorning her long face. "I can, and I will!" It sounded like a challenge. A promise. In front of the Heart Three no less. Perfect.

Sansa gave Arya a smile that was almost predatory. This was going to be fun! "Well, let's go talk to father then, shall we?"