When the king came to Winterfell, Arya was excited. She had never met a king before, and this king was a friend of her father. She thought she'd be told stories of the War, and her family.
But that wasn't what she received at all.
Instead, her father, the man who she thought was the one who really understood her, gave her away.
The king Robert Baratheon wanted to join their houses, and he intended to do so through Arya Stark, and his son, Joffrey.
"It is your duty. Your duty to your family." Her mother told her. That was easy for her to say. She loved father - he was a good man. Arya didn't even know Joffrey, and she was expected to marry him?
Naturally, Arya tried to run away, tried to get out of this horrid situation she found herself. She thought she maybe could go to Dorne, or maybe even Braavos, become a lady warrior and adventurer.
Evidently Ned had foresaw her possible flight, and made sure to have his men patrolling the roads. She only made it about half a mile before she was brought back, kicking and screaming. Ned tried to make her understand, make her see that this was all for the best, that the young Joffrey was better than some old lord that she could have possibly been married off to. Arya didn't want to marry ANYONE - she didn't want to beholden to any man.
But alas, there was nothing she could do - the curse of being a highborn lady.
Jon and Robb tried to be supportive of her, they knew how independent she was and how much she valued it. They told her that it wouldn't be all that bad, and that she'd have all that she'd still be able to practice with swords and shoot bows. She didn't know if they were lying to her, or if they actually believed it, either way it wasn't all too convincing.
Theon thought the whole thing was hilarious. Theon had always been a right bastard; they were basically siblings, but Arya didn't know if she'd miss him. He told her that she'd have the wildness fucked right out of her. Arya responded by shooting an arrow past his head.
Sansa outright hated her. She cried and whined that it should have been her marrying Joffrey and becoming queen, that she was the oldest, and the prettiest. She stomped her feet, wailing on about how it wasn't fair. Did the empty headed girl think Arya wanted this anymore than she did? She was a hostage in this scenario.
The whole family traveled down to King's Landing to hold the wedding there. Over that period, Catelyn instructed Arya to get to know the young prince as she'd be spending the rest of one their lives together. They were forced to ride together, to sit by each other during meals, and spend free time together.
It only took a week on the road for Arya to decide that Joffrey was one of the most obnoxious people she had ever met.
He was crass, vein, rude, a coward, and any and all negative in Arya's vocabulary. Was her father punishing her for something - why would he wed her to HIM. They had nothing in common. It wasn't as if Joffrey seemed keen on marrying her either, constantly whining and complaining whenever Arya did something "unladylike."
Naturally once again, Arya tried to run away . She figured she could try and make it to the Pyke Islands and live the rest of her days as a sailor or pirate - that sounded just wonderful to her. This time it was the king's men who brought her back. King Robert had a nice laugh that evening.
"Suck it in."
"I am sucking it in!"
It was the big day - the day Arya would be signed away to the Baratheons. She was in the process of being STUFFED into her dress with the assistants of several chamber maids as her mother and sister watched from the back.
"You have the Tully family hips." her mother commented. "I had the same issue fitting into my dress.
"Why's it gotta be so tight." Arya complained.
"You must accentuate your figure. To show those attending that you're a true woman." Her mother informed
"If only barely." Sansa said nastily from behind.
"Sansa!" Catelyn hissed at her eldest daughter. Sansa pouted and glared at the back of her sister's head, but went silent.
"Really, your only sister is being wed today." Catelyn reprimanded. "You should be happy for her."
"It should be me marrying the price today." Sansa whined, the tell tale signs that she was about to start crying permeating into her voice.
"I agree." Arya mumbled.
"None of that now." Catelyn warned her youngest daughter. She walked closer, and gently put her hand on Arya's shoulder. "This is an important day. It can be as happy as you make it."
Arya scoffed, but remained silent. She thought she might try and run away again, but she figured she wouldn't get very far with the dress restricting her. She breathed deeply, and tried to calm herself - not that she was panicked of course - this was just marriage after all.
The ceremony was held in the godswood of the Red Keep, where hundreds of people she had never met before were telling her how good she looked, and how today was a special day. What did they know?
She was brought before the heart tree, where Joffrey, her father, and the king were waiting. She hated to admit it, but he did look rather handsome in his gold and maroon shirt, and long robe. He didn't look particularly happy to see her, but the feeling was mutual. She gave her father a helpless look. Ned gave her his best reassuring smile, trying to comfort her. It didn't work
The ceremony was quick, the septon said some nonsense about union, and blessed them with bountiful fertility, Arya hadn't really been paying attention. She was snapped out of her haze when the Septon instructed them to kiss. She had never kissed a boy before, and now she had to do it in front of hundreds of people. Somewhat luckily Joffrey took initiative, grabbing her behind her head and pressing his lips to her. It was a rough kiss, teeth clacking and noses mashing together, but it served its purpose of making her Arya Stark Baratheon.
They moved into the great hall for the feast. Arya wasn't very hungry though. Her stomach was doing back flips.
Soon she'd have to perform her duty. The duty all high-born women must perform on their wedding nights. Her mother told her it would go easier if she didn't fight. Fighting was in Arya's nature. She asked her mother how it was the first time with her father, and Catelyn scowled. She just said he was as gentle as he could manage. Arya didn't know what that meant, but she didn't particularly like the answer.
It was apparently customary for the newlyweds to have a dance. Arya hated dancing, unless it was of the water variety. Regardless, it was expected of her, so her and Joffrey went to the center of the floor and joined hands. They danced in silence for a while, Joffrey having a bored expression on his face.
"You're not very good at this." He commented with a sneer, as Arya once again stumbled over her feet.
"Dancing is stupid." She braked childishly.
"Well, on THAT we agree." Joffrey said. He snaked a hand around her hip and pulled her flush to his body. "There are certainly more interesting things I'm looking forward to tonight."
Arya scowled at him and tried to push him away. He just held onto her tight
"A little fight in you. I guess I know what to expect upstairs." Joffrey drawled. Arya stamped down on Joffrey's foot hard, causing him to yelp and jump back in pain. Some of the guests saw it, but just attributed it to Arya's lack of grace. She gave a self satisfied smile at the angry expression on his face. He looked as if he was about to say something, but he stopped himself - and then a smile spread across his face. A smile that honestly made Arya nervous. Joffrey left Arya on the dance floor and went to his father, who was enjoying a goblet of wine alongside the king. He leaned down and said something into his ear, and the King nodded. The King stood, swaying a bit on his feet.
"Honored Guests!" He bellowed in his deep voice. "Today marks the day where House Baratheon, and House Stark have been joined in the union of marriage. And now, it's time for that union to be cemented for all time. Let the bedding commence!"
The men in the room cheered loudly while her father looked a bit uncomfortable.
Arya was told what the ceremony entailed. She thought it was nonsense - even a little savage like her viewed the custom as archaic. To be stripped naked and carried like a hog to a fire. But when she realized that she was now alone in the middle of the dance floor, with dozens of guards, knights, and lords staring at her hungrily, it became apparent that it was very, VERY real.
Arya's fight or flight instincts kicked in. She didn't have a weapon or anything to protect herself with, so flight it was. She tried to book it, to squeeze through the crowd to safety. She was easily caught around the waist by Janos Slynt of the city watch.
"Where you going girlie?" He leered. "Your husband's the other way."
In an instant, the men surrounded her, their hands reaching out to grab her all over, pulling and pushing against anything they could touch. Arya was pushed and pulled back and forth between the men to the point where she was getting dizzy. She was stumbling all over her feet, barely staying as she was roughly jostled around. Someone reached out and grabbed the front of her dress, and pulled down hard, not enough to fully tear it off, but enough to rip the material, and reveal some cleavage, and the fact that she wasn't wearing breast binding under her dress.
"Tit are a bit small don't ya think." Someone said, a so-called knight.
"True, but she makes up for it with this backside." Someone else said. Immediately after his comment, Arya felt a hard smack on her ass, followed by another.
"Look at it move! The prince is going to have alot of fun with this!"
Arya lashed out, swinging her arms wildly at her attackers. She wasn't going to let them humiliate her without a fight.
"Oi! Someone grab her arms!." Ser Meryn, a member of the kingsguard said. Immediately Arya's wrists were grabbed and her arms pulled to the side. That allowed the men to freely grope at her breast and arse, their rough hands roaming all over her body. By now the top of her dress was pulled down, exposing her breasts fully to the crowd. Hands reached out and tweaked her nipples, twisting them roughly. Arya snapped her teeth at them like a wild animal. Suddenly, Arya found her feet were no longer touching the ground. She was lifted into the air by her arms, her kicking feet, by her hair, anything that could be grabbed upon. The men lifted her above their heads, holding onto her struggling body securely. Now that her view wasn't being blocked by their bodies, Arya could look around the room.
Immediately she looked to her father, hoping he'd come to her rescue. She was disappointed to see him offer her nothing but a sorry, uncomfortable look. Her mother looked very much the same, eyes averting from her daughter's rough treatment. Arya looked at Sansa, who looked absolutely horrified. She supposed her sister never realized that this was to be the reality of her wedding day; hardly her day dreams of being whisked away by a brave knight.
"Ah!" Arya yelled out, as someone gave her hair a hard yank.
"Hey! Be gentler with her dammit!" It was Robb. She was glad that at least someone was seeing the insanity of this.
"Robb, sit down." She heard her mother whisper harshly.
"Don't worry boy, we'll be plenty gentle with her." Laughed Ser Meryn, as the group of men began to march the squirming Arya out of the hall and towards the bedroom. As they walked, more and more of Arya's dress was ripped, until she was just in her smallclothes. Hands reached out and groped at the exposed skin. Arya kicked out, striking someone, she didn't care who, in the back of the head with the foot. Her satisfaction was short lived, as the gropes turned into hard smacks and slaps as some kind of punishment. Her thighs, arse, breast all were littered with smacks from every direction. A few blows landed on her face, turning her head side to side.
"Tenderizing you for Joffrey." A man laughed before giving her right tit a hard smack. Arya spit in his general direction.
"You better get that spitting out now girl, because you're going to be doing a lot of swallowing in your life." Laughed a lord with a long nose. Arya didn't know what that meant, but she didn't like the sound of it.
Eventually, her underwear were unceremoniously torn from her body. She swore she saw the long nosed lord slip them into his pocket. The men made it an effort to hold her legs open the rest of the way to the bedroom.
"Look! She shaved her cunt!"
Her mother insisted on that. Arya's face burned as she tried fruitlessly to close her legs. A few brave hands graced Arya's lower lips. While the bedding ceremony allowed for a lot of leniency in treatment of the bride, penetration was prohibited. Apparently it was Slynt who didn't receive this memo, as his fingertips circle her entrance, and he pushed two fingers into her to the first knuckle. Arya squealed and bucked her hips up, inadvertently pushing his fingers deeper into her. She would have screamed out, if it weren't for the fingers currently fish hooking on the inside of her cheek, causing her to sputter and drool like a newborn babe.
"Alright Slynt, enough of that." Warned Ser Meryn. "Breaking through her maiden hood is reserved for her husband alone."
Janos begrudgingly pulled his fingers from Arya, wiping them on her thigh.
Arya continued to squirm, curse, and spit as the men climbed the stairs to the Prince's bedroom. The men got in their last gropes, slaps, and barbs before opening the door and throwing Arya face down on the bed like a sack of flour.
Arya looked up from the mattress, to see Joffrey staring down at her, looking rather amused.
"When did you get here?" She asked accusingly.
"My chambers aren't far from the great hall. I see they took the long way to get here with you." Joffrey said. He waved off the men, indicating that they were to leave. Arya's caravan took their leave, with Ser Meryn the last to leave.
"Enjoy your grace." the Knight said with a lecherous smile, exiting the room and closing the door.
"They weren't too rough with you were they?" Asked Joffrey, not at all sounding concerned.
"Don't be stupid, look at me!" She said standing from the bed with her arms out to the side, presenting herself. She had red hand prints scattered all over her body, and her hair was a mess, her mother's work to give her an elegant hair-do for her wedding almost completely undone. Joffrey's eyes raked over her freely, and Arya realized that she was exposing herself openly to the prince. She suddenly felt self conscious, shrinking down and trying to cover her modesty. Joffrey snorted at that.
"Bit late to be embarrassed." Mocked Joffrey. "A dozen men already saw you naked and touched you before me."
"It's not like I had much choice in the matter, idiot!" She barked. Joffrey frowned at her, seemingly trying to keep his temper at bay.
"Choice is irrelevant. It was your duty." He said plainly. "Just like this is mine, so let's get on with it."
Arya fidgeted nervously as the prince began to strip himself of his own clothes. Soon he was in nothing but his own small clothes, expensive looking maroon undergarments.
"What….how do we-" Arya found herself asking.
"What? How do we do what?" Joffrey pushed impatiently. Arya's eyes cast down to the ground. "How do we have sex?"
"I know how to have sex!" Arya said a bit too defensively. "You just stick your...thing in me until you finish."
"My cock you mean?
"Yes, I know what a cock is."
Despite her defensiveness, Arya had no idea what she was doing. Sure Septa Mordane gave her and her sister lessons on their womanly parts and sexual health, but admittedly Arya never paid too much attention to them, especially during her betrothal where she was fighting against it.
Joffrey stared at her for a while, eyes mysterious to Arya.
"Say something!" Arya exclaimed, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze.
"I see they taught you absolutely nothing up in the North." Joffrey suddenly said, shaking his head.
"What do you mean?" Arya asked, narrowing her eyes at the boy.
"The wedding day bedding isn't as simple as me just sticking my 'thing' in you." Joffrey explained. There are steps."
"Steps?" Arya repeated, confused. Septa Mordane never mentioned anything about steps. Or maybe she did, Arya thought. She perhaps should have paid more attention in her lessons.
"Yes, steps." Joffrey said again. "See, consummation of a marriage has 3 steps. First the bride must make her husband spill his seed with her mouth, then with the special technique of the Seven, then, and only then, by joining flesh."
Arya eyed Joffrey suspiciously. She had never heard of any of this. She always assumed bedding was a simple concept. She supposed being carried naked through the castle disproved that. And she couldn't think of a reason Joffrey would lie about this - he didn't seem any more interested in the marriage than she was, he must have been trying to get this over with.
"Fine." Arya relented. "Let's just get this done."
Joffrey just smiled at his new wife.