A/N: I'm Back! Thanks for all the feedback and love! I'll slow down the pace of the story. This is my first story and I'm in the process of getting the hang of developing it. Sorry for the late update. I've been busy with school. We've been piled with homework and exams. And I've been lacking inspiration lately after I had a few bad reviews. When I mean bad, I don't mean the ones which give me good input which help me improve. I mean the ones that are utterly destructive and have nothing useful to suggest. (I'm still learning how to deal with them).I felt bad about not updating for so long though. So here's the next chapter! It's small and is a bit of a filler featuring the Stark sisters.
Arya trudged to the training grounds of the Twins. The light had begun to peek through the dust-covered glass windows. The atmosphere was cool and kept most of the occupants of the castle in bed. Arya had ice in her veins and, did not mind the cold. She thrived in it.
The training grounds were empty as Arya had expected. She preferred to practice in solitude before she had her sessions with Brienne or the Hound. Arya stopped before a bench and pulled her woollen cloak off, and basked in the cold air for a moment. She unbuckled the scabbard around her waist and unsheathed Needle. She discarded the covering and made her way to the center of the clearing.
She began her routine. She liked to start with what little Syrio had taught her. Both Brienne and the Hound were not fans of water dancing and saw no point in the Braavosi form of combat. Arya strongly disagreed, she did not have the advantage of muscle or a bulky body. She was small and swift, and what little she knew of water dancing enhanced those abilities considerably.
"Braavosi water dancing? That's not something I've seen often in Westeros."
Startled out of the fluidity of her movements. Arya whirled around and pointed the tip of her blade at the source of the voice. Loras Tyrell stood before her, with a smirk written upon his handsome face and a sword in his hands. The sight of Jon's soon-to-be good brother did not lessen the tension in Arya.
"Good morning, Ser Loras." Arya greeted cautiously. She found it hard to fight the suspicion in her voice. Loras' smirk grew as he momentarily eyed the blade pointed at his chest.
"Lady Arya." Loras inclined his head in greeting. A moment stretched between them before Loras realized that Arya had no intention of backing down. He raised an infuriating eyebrow as he guided the blade slowly away with his finger. Arya did not protest and stepped back, for she knew she had no choice. It would not be wise to start a fight with Loras Tyrell. He was the son of one of Jon's most important allies.
Apparently, Loras had other plans though.
"I've seen you training a lot lately, my lady." He commented as Arya tried to get out of his way. Arya put a halt to her efforts as she figured that Loras was not done with her.
"I have been, Ser." She answered in a clipped voice. She had no idea why Loras had sought her out. She, for the most part, kept avoiding the Tyrells. Arya vaguely wondered if Margaery had told her brother that she had threatened her. Her grip on her sword tightened.
"Yes. You are to join the Kingsguard after all." Loras carelessly twirled his sword as he spoke. He studied her intently, sizing her up. Arya cautiously glanced around the training grounds. Men had started to trudge lazily inside to spar.
"Lady Brienne trains you." Loras stated as he started to slowly step back. "I'm forced to admit she is quite good with a sword. For a woman I mean."
Arya clenched her jaw in annoyance. "She beat you." Her tone mocking.
Loras brushed a lock of brown hair away from his face and shrugged dismissively. But Arya could see by the way his eyes narrowed slightly, that she had struck a chord with the man's pride.
The smirk slowly reappeared on his face as he clutched his sword in his hand. "I admit she is good. But I would like to see if you are." He raised his sword in invitation. Encouraging her to strike him. Arya hesitated. It was foolish to even consider going against the Knight of Flowers. Though she would be more than glad to throw the man into the dirt and wipe that arrogant smirk off his face, she wasn't sure if she could beat him. She opened her mouth to decline before he struck a chord with her.
"Or is it only because you are the King's favourite cousin that you are allowed to join the Kingsguard."
The instant those words left Ser Loras' lips, Arya's blood was set ablaze with rage and insult. She knew what people whispered behind her back. That she was given the honour solely because she was Jon's sister. Yes, perhaps Jon was instrumental in her appointment but, she was not a helpless woman. She could fight. She could kill. She had killed and was not afraid to do it again, especially for her family. She worked hard, twice as hard as any man would have had to in her position. She strived to prove herself worthy of the position Jon would soon officially bestow upon her.
She bared her teeth in the resemblance of a growl and lunged at the Knight of the Flowers. Her wolf-blood howling in anger. Loras easily parried the blow and the hard ones that followed successively. He almost seemed bored as he raised his blade to block yet another of Arya's strikes. He had not moved to attack and Arya knew she was slowly wearing herself out. She tried to focus, to detach herself from the raw emotion the Southern Knight had provoked in her, but she found it hard to calm herself down.
Syrio had always warned her to keep her emotions in check when she had her sword in hand. She ceased her attacks for a fraction of a second to recollect herself. Ser Loras spotted the opening the moment it appeared and Arya braced herself. He seemed to have tired of being on the defensive. He threw blow after blow. She melded herself with the rhythm. Blocking and dodging. Striking when she saw an opening.
She knew that the spar should have long been over. After all, Ser Loras was way too experienced a knight for Arya to hold him off for so long. He was pulling his punches, toying with her. He was enjoying it, given the mocking smirk on his face. It took everything for Arya not to allow her anger to take over once again. Syrio had taught her better than that. Though the Hound would most surely disagree.
The fight was wearing her thin and her blocks turned sloppy and Ser Loras drove her back. She was beginning to lose her balance as he did. With what energy she could muster she lunged forward in between Ser Loras' thrusts. She aimed for his chest but the Tyrell Knight easily parried the blow. He threw a kick at Arya's chest and she fell backwards, pounding her head on the ground. She momentarily closed her eyes, trying to push down the pain ringing in her head. She opened her eyes with the intent of scrambling back up, to find Ser Loras' steel blade pointed at her throat. The man was standing above her, his eyes regarding her coolly.
Fear flashed in her Arya's eyes. She momentarily wondered if he would kill her. After all, she had threatened his precious sister. The fear left as quickly as it had come as she dismissed the notion. Ser Loras was not that much of fool to kill her.
"Dead." He stated. Arya scowled, though she made no movement under his blade. Ser Loras grinned at her as he took her silence as her acceptance of her defeat. He withdrew his sword and step back, letting his sword hand fall at his side.
Arya got up slowly, carefully to hide the pain and exhaustion she felt. She glanced around her to find the training grounds crowded and filled with people staring at their exchange. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks in humiliation as she realized that all these men-northern and southern alike- had seen her defeat against Loras Tyrell. She saw Brienne and Podrick off at the side watching curiously. Brienne's lips were pursed together as she did. Arya felt a rush of shame wash through her. She knew her victories and defeats would reflect upon Brienne's teaching. The last thing she wanted was the men to give her any more trouble.
Arya turned back to Loras. The anger she had suppressed during the duel returned in full force. He had embarrassed Arya amongst her peers and he stood there smiling.
"Not as bad as I thought you were, Lady Arya." Arya was taken aback by the compliment. Or insult. She couldn't tell with that smirk forever resting upon the Tyrell's face. "Maybe, one day, the King and my sister-" So he did know about Arya's confrontation judging by his tone, "-will be blessed to have you protecting them."
Arya did not know if she should take that as praise or if Ser Loras was simply mocking her as he did in their spar. She felt a surge of anger as she recalled the defeat. She should have focused, bided her time, but as always she let her emotions take control.
Loras watched Arya with a look that felt all too familiar to her. It did not take long for her to decipher it. The Knight was trying to determine if Arya was a threat. A threat to his sister. Like she had done with Margaery when it came to Jon
Loras' looked to have grown bored of playing with Arya and decided to take his leave and made a show of bowing mockingly to her, "Good day, my lady." Arya gritted her teeth in annoyance at the use of the title.
Loras gave her a knowing look before he made his way out of the yard- one of, surprisingly, both understanding and threatening. Arya simply raised her chin in defiance. She meant Margaery no harm as long as she did not mean any in return. She would seek vengeance if the Tyrells dared betray Jon.
Loras, maybe an arrogant knight, and Arya, rebellious highborn lady, but she knew that they both would go to great lengths for their families. They had that in common.
Sansa glanced around her room in the Twins distastefully. It was not just that they were poorly kept, it was a painful reminder of what had been planned within the walls of the castle. Walder Frey had planned Robb's death within these walls. Her goodsister's death. Her unborn niece or nephew. Nothing had ever felt more satisfying as she had watched Jon remove his head from his shoulders. Her former self, the girl who had believed in songs and 'happily ever after' would likely have been traumatized at the thought of enjoying the death of a man.
Sansa toyed with the handle of a cup filled with tea in her hand and turned her attention to her companion on the other side of the table. Margaery sat there, looking every bit the perfect lady she was.
"My father has reassured me that the food supplies are being transported as we speak." Margaery was saying.
Sansa inclined her head in gratitude, "Thank you. The North is in debt to you."
Margaery waved Sansa's words away, "They are to be my people soon, Sansa."
Sansa smiled, "The North is lucky to have to you then."
"And they are lucky to have you." Margaery commented as she took a sip from her cup. "You are a natural at this."
Sansa shrugged, trying not to act as pleased as she felt at those words. She was new to leading and she was still trying to get a hang of it.
"You're not the same girl you were in Kingslanding."
"I don't have Cersei or Joffrey breathing down my neck anymore."
Margaery chuckled knowingly, "Horrible people. But what Lannister isn't?"
"Tyrion wasn't bad." Sansa muttered as she looked into her cup of tea.
Margaery hm' ed in response, "Yes. I suppose he was better than the rest." Sansa looked up to find Margaery regarding her curiously. She blushed slightly. She meant what she had said, Tyrion had been nothing but kind to her when she was wedded to him.
"I recall that you dreaded your marriage to Tyrion Lannister." Margaery commented.
"He wasn't so bad." Sansa repeated, sipping her tea. Margaery looked at her funny.
"Did you two ever.."
Sansa's eyes widened and shook her head frantically, "That's not what I meant." She answered quickly, "He said he would not force me."
Margaery laughed lightly at Sansa's embarrassment. She glanced into her teacup, "I was not lying though, Sansa. You have grown. You took my advice."
Sansa shrugged, "It was good advice." It really had been. It has helped her to learn to take advantage of whatever situation she was in. She had manipulated Robin into sending the Vale by acting demure and weak. To be honest, Margaery's advice had helped to get a long way, both within and without Kingslanding.
"I know it was." The future Queen smirked, "A proclaimed traitor's daughter now commands the North and the Vale."
Sansa blushed. It was necessarily true, with Littlefinger leaving her as Lady Protector of the Vale. She had felt powerless for so long and now she had unimaginable power, especially for a woman. She would be lying if she said she was not at least a little bit drunk from it. She was listened to on Jon's council and he actually heeded her advice, even if it was from time to time.
Margaery and Sansa lapsed into silence as they finished their tea. The Lady of Winterfell looked up suddenly, recalling that she had intended to ask Margaery something.
"Any luck with Jon?" Sansa had so desperately wanted things to work out for her friend and brother. Her father's and mother's marriage had been out of convenience, yet they had learned to love one another. She knew Jon loved another, but that did not mean his marriage had to miserable and counted as a burden. Though Sansa knew even if it was, there was nothing that could be done about it.
Margaery smiled, "I like to think that I am progressing." Sansa found herself doubting that. Stark men - and Targaryen men, when she thought about it - were not ones to give up on love so quickly. It was what often got them killed. She contemplated telling her friend about Jon's wildling love but decided against it. Both Jon and Arya would not appreciate it and either way the woman was hardly a threat when they did not even know if she is still alive or not.
"Perhaps spend some time with Arya. Jon is most fond of her." Sansa hoped that that would somehow melt the ice that existed between her little sister and the Tyrells. The last thing Jon needed was a conflict between his beloved sister and his betrothed. Arya was eventually to serve Margaery as well.
Margaery looked uncertain, "Well she is most certainly not fond of me, to be honest."
Sansa's eyes narrowed, "What do you mean?"
"It's nothing, Sansa."
"Tell me." What had Arya done? Was she so stupid as to make her dislike of the Tyrells so plain? Jon needed the Tyrells if he wished to take Westeros. Arya could not deal with every problem by slitting everyone's throat.
Margaery hesitated and Sansa had a sneaking suspicion, "Does this have something to do with Ser Loras challenging Arya in the training grounds?"
Margaery grinned sheepishly, "Unfortunately, yes. Loras was being a bit overbearing." Sansa did not like the sound of that. What had Arya possibly have done that the Knight of Flowers felt the need to duel her? "Your sister might have threatened to kill me if I ever betrayed the king."
Sansa sighed. That was so very Arya. Always so protective of her pack. Sansa liked to think that she did so in her own covert way.
"I apologize, Margaery. She's very possessive when it comes to Jon."
"I understand. I have three brothers as well."
Sansa smiled in gratitude. Silently, she hoped that Arya would do nothing more to jeopardize their alliance with Margaery's family. Somehow she found that extremely unlikely with Ser Loras humiliating her earlier in the courtyard.
After assuring Margaery that Arya would eventually come around, Margaery decided to go and have her lunch with her grandmother. As she exited the room as graceful as any lady could possibly dream of, Sansa called out to her softly,
"But if in the event that you and your family did betray Jon, there is nothing short of death itself that could keep Arya from vengeance."Sansa's tone was light and her demeanour nonchalant, but there was iron underneath it. If it did come to that Sansa would expect Arya to do nothing less. Sansa liked the Tyrells and Margaery, but she had made the mistake of placing her family second once and Sansa swore on her father's grave that it would never happen again. The pack stuck together, that was how things were done in the North.
Margaery stared at Sansa for a few moments. She looked anything but threatened to Sansa. Truthfully, she looked proud of Sansa that she finally taking a stand. In all seriousness though, Margaery nodded in understanding.
"I wouldn't dream of betraying of my king."
A/N: Tell me what you thought! This was something I whipped up rather quickly. Review and subscribe!