Author's note: Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments and reviews! I enjoy reading each one and seeing so many people pleased with my work is very humbling.
Arya bloody hated traveling in the damned wheelhouse. Every day she had to put up with her sister and Jenny Poole's annoying chatter along with the Septa telling her to 'sit up straight' and 'smooth out your dress'. She wondered who could even care about one wrinkle in a 10 year old's dress? Apparently, by the fuss Septa Mordane, made it was the whole of the Seven Kingdoms. The only good thing that had come out of the weeks of travel was her friend, Mycah.
He was the son of the royal butcher, and while he was a bit weird at first the tall child had grown on the Stark girl. He listened to what she had to say instead of just acting like she should always keep her mouth shut, and he was fun to play with.
Speaking of Mycah, the moment the carriage stopped she needed to find him. She heard from her father that morning they would be stopping by the Ruby's Forge of the Trident river for the night. Since then she had been planning her and Mycah's escape to search for any of Rhaegar's rubies in the river's waters.
"Septa, Arya's daydreaming again." By the Seven Hells she wanted to wring Sansa's neck!
The pious woman frowned at the young lady, "Arya I know the travel can become dull, but please pay attention when someone is speaking to you," She turned towards the other Stark girl. "Take Sansa here for example: Poised, proper, and prim."
The brunette muttered, "More like prickish, prissy, and a pain."
The Septa ignored the girl's words, as usual, and continued to praise the redhead. Arya sighed and glanced out the window watching the birds flutter through the air. She felt a small nudge on her leg and smiled at Nymeria's nose nudges. She patted her wolf's head and let her eyes flutter shut, hoping to catch a nap until they stopped moving.
"Arya! Wake up!" Sansa yelled at her younger sister, and watched as she shot her head up. She scoffed at her sister's antics, swept up her dress's skirt, and carefully stepped out of the wheelhouse. She turned back around and lightly grasped Lady's leash to lead her gently out to the camp.
Arya grimaced at her sister's rude tone, but followed her out of the carriage with Nymeria following after her. She glanced around at the tall trees blowing in the wind and noticed groups of people setting up for lunch. She lead her wolf away from the other women's lunch area and sneaked around the camp until she caught sight of her father's cloak. She smiled and began to walk up to him when she noticed King Robert walking up to him as well. She quickly tucked herself behind a tree and spied on the pair of men as they met up and meandered to a small sitting area set up with food already plated. Her father quickly took his seat, but Robert took in the surrounding countryside.
"Gods, this is country!" He turned back to her father and placed himself across from him. "I have half a mind to leave them all behind and keep going."
"I have half a mind to go with you."
The King smirked, "What do you say? Just you and me on the Kings road, just our swords by our sides. Couple of tavern wenches to warm our beds?"
Ned sighed, "If you'd ask me 20 years ago," He laughed as Robert shook his head.
"There were wars to fight, women to marry. We never had the chance to be young."
The Quiet Wolf scratched his chin, "I recall a few chances." Robert raised his eyebrows at Ned before bursting out into joyful laughter. His friend chimed in and they enjoyed each other's mirth.
The King attempted his curb his laughter, "There was that one, what was her name?" He gestured to his table mate. "That common girl of yours...Becca! With the great big tits you could bury your face in." Arya snorted at the King's words, finding the fact he was so enamored by a woman quite comical.
Ned eyed his friend, "Bessie? She was one of yours."
"Bessie!" He royal man chuckled. "Thank the Gods for Bessie. And her tits." Both men spared a laugh. "Yours was Elena?" He shook his head. "No, you told me once...uh Myrrel?" He waved his hand at Ned, "Your bastard's mother." The young girl perked her ears up and leaned further away from her hiding place to catch their words better. Her father never, and she knew never, talked about Jon's mother. Whether it was too painful for him or her mother she didn't know, but she personally thought it was stupid. Why does her mother hate Jon for something her husband did?
"Wylla," Her father breathed out while avoiding the King's eyes, as if he was ashamed.
"That's it," Robert nodded his head. "Must of been a rare wench to make Lord Eddard Stark forget his honor, you never told me what she looked like."
"Nor will I."
The king gave his friend a sympathetic look, "We were at war. None of us knew if we were going to come back home again. You're too hard on yourself, you always have been." He shook his head. "I swear if I wasn't your King you would have hit me already."
"Worse thing about your coronation," He eyed Robert. "I'll never get to hit you again." Both men nodded their heads, and took a swig from their goblets. Contemplating the past and their old regrets.
"Trust me that's not the worst thing," The portly man pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment and passed it over to the Northern man. "A rider came in the night."
The Northern man read the hastily written words and shrugged his shoulders, "Daenerys Targaryen has wed some Dothraki horse lord, what of it?" He threw the note onto the table. "Should we send her a wedding gift?"
"A knife, perhaps a good sharp one. And a bold man to wield it."
"She's nothing more than a child, barely older than my own daughter."
The king shook his head, "Soon enough that child will spread her legs and start breeding."
The Northern Lord glared at his King, "tell me we are not speaking of this."
"Oh it's unspeakable to you!?" Arya watched as the royal man slowly became enraged. "What her father did to your family, that was unspeakable. What Rhaegar Targaryen did to your sister, the woman I loved." He spat at the ground, "I'll kill every Targaryen I can get my hands on."
Ned tensed slightly, "You can't get your hands on this one can you?"
"This Khal Drogo...It's said he has over 100,000 men in his horde."
The Lord of Winterfell cut in on his friend, "Even 1,000,000 Dothraki aren't a threat to the Realm. As long as they remain on the other side of the Narrow Sea. They have no ships Robert."
However, his sound advice fell on deaf ears, "There are still those in the Seven Kingdoms who call me Usurper. A Targaryen boy crosses with a Dothraki horde at his back? The scum will join him."
Arya watched as her father attempted to sway the angered man's mind, "He will not cross. And if by chance he does we will throw him back into the sea." The men settled down and grabbed their cups, chugging their drinks down. Ned leaned back in his seat, but watched as Robert leaned closer to him.
"There's a war coming, Ned. I don't know when and I don't know who we'll be fighting, but it's coming." At those words Arya shot back from the tree she was hiding behind and ran towards the rest of the camp. Surely the King must be wrong, her father must see it. There's no reason for a war to come at all, so why state that one is on the horizon? Arya reached the open glade where her sister and the Septa were lightly chatting with Jenny Poole along with other handmaidens and bent over to catch her breath.
"Arya? Oh you're ripped your dress." The girl glanced down to see the small rip Septa Mordane pointed out. She scoffed, called Nymeria, and entered one of the tents near the chatting hens to change her clothes. She shot out of the tent after throwing on a pair of britches and a baggy tunic, sprinting past the boring women when they yelled after her.
The Stark child quickly reached the edge of the Trident, and dropped to the ground. Nymeria laid down placing her head on her mistress' lap.
"Arya, there you are!" She shot her head around to see Mycah ambling towards her with a large smile on his face.
"Mycah, thank the Gods!" She stood to greet her friend. "My sister and Septa have been torturing me."
The boy laughed, "Yeah, I figured. So ruby hunting?" She smirked at her friend, grasped his hand, and began to wade into the shallow waters.
While Arya enjoyed her time away from her stuffy sister, said sister decided to take her own direwolf for a stroll around the area. Lady dutifully followed her mistress through the small crowd of court members and guards. Sansa smiled at many ladies of the court as she approached the inn the royal family was staying in for the night.
She stopped and leaned down to stroke Lady's fur when a figure bumped into her. A man taller than any of her brothers or her father. No hair on the top of his head and a grim frown etched almost permanently onto his visage. He carried a sword strapped to his back, and wore all black. Sansa took a slight step away from the intimidating man hoping to avoid him when his eyes met hers. She froze as he seemed to see into her soul, and trembled while taking another step away from him.
"Pardon me, Ser," She murmured while glancing between his crazed eyes and the ground. She stepped back once more, but was stopped by a large hand on her left shoulder. She was turned around and came face to face with Joffrey's guard, Sandor Clegane. Her pale blue eyes met his deep brown and she shuddered lightly at the large scarring on the right side of his face.
The sworn sword scoffed, "Do I frighten you that much, little lady?" He smirked and gestured to the bald man still standing behind the Stark girl. "Or is it him that's making you shake?" The Hound shrugged his shoulders. "He scares me too, look at that face." The girl turned around to spare another glance at the silent man.
She gave the man a weak smile, "I'm sorry if I offended you, Ser," The man only bestowed the redhead a glare before leaving. "Why won't he talk to me?"
The tall man shrugged, "He hasn't been very talkative these last 20 years, since the Mad King had his tongue ripped out with hot pincers."
"Speaks damn well with his sword, however," Sansa smiled at the voice of her betrothed and turned to face the prince, missing the worried look on the burned man's face. "Ser Illyn Payne, the King's justice," She raised her eyebrows in confusion and Joffrey smirked while twisting his hand on the hilt of his sword, "The royal executioner."
His smirk widened at her frightened look, but he continued to play the part of the faithful fiance. "What is it sweetling? Does the Hound frighten you?" He sent a light glare to his guard, "Away with you dog, your scaring my lady." The man in question bowed towards the royal male before taking his leave.
"I don't like to see you upset," Sansa smiled and lightly blushed at his words. She imagined this was the way Myria felt when Jon spoke to her. "Sun's finally shining. Come walk with me."
The Northern girl eagerly nodded her head and quickly slipped her arm into Joffrey's before pausing and turning back to her direwolf, "Stay Lady." With her command the small wolf laid down right where she was sitting. After Lady was diligently listening to her mistress, the teen pair strode off to take a leisurely walk through the camp. They passed the Queen sitting down to eat with her other children, Myrcella waved at her brother and Sansa while Tommen kept his down and shuffled his food around the plate. Cersei eyed the Stark girl, but offered her a tight smile. The couple continued on after Joffrey and his mother shared pleasantries with each other.
The prince and Sansa shared small talk about idle gossip of the court as they passed through the treeline, wandering over to the edge of the river. When they reached the water's edge Joffrey opened the water skin by his hip and took a sip of the liquid inside.
He offered the skin to the younger girl, "Would my lady care for some wine?"
Sansa lightly shook her head, "My father only lets us have a single cup at feasts, I shouldn't." Joffrey scoffed and pushed the container into her hands.
"My princess can drink as much as she wants" He ran his hand over her cheek. "So you may do whatever you please, my lady." She felt a blush bloom past her ears, but took a small drink of the wine. She coughed slightly before offering the skin back to the prince, but he refused and motioned for her to continue to drink the heavy alcohol. Her smile flickered for a second before she continued to take small sips of wine, assuming small amounts would not bother her much while pleasing Joffrey.
The prince smirked at the noble woman as she slowly became inebriated, but the annoying sound of wood hitting wood disturbed his delicate temperaments and he scanned the area for the source of the racket. He narrowed his eyes when he caught Sansa's wild sister playing with a lump of a boy, the pair hitting each other with sticks in an attempt to act out swordplay. He observed how the small girl swung her leg out to catch the bigger boy's knees, sending him crashing to the ground.
The blonde boy craned his neck to catch their conversation, "That was awesome! Where did you learn that!?"
"Watched my sister-in-law, Myria Dayne, do it."
Myria. That woman's existence was a thorn in the prince's side. She was only 2 years older than him, but for some reason everyone growing up had adored her. The court ladies, his weak siblings, his uncles, his own bloody father! Perhaps he could give the Dornish swill a piece of his mind, he knew she had a soft spot for children.
He casually lead the slightly inebriated redhead over to where her sister was playing with a dark glint in his eye.
The Stark girl finally noticed the clanging of wood and gave the prince a small look of worry. He simply gave her a chivalrous smile and slipped back into his heroic mask, "Don't worry. You're safe with me." They walked closer to the sound and Sansa finally noticed her sister was the one creating trouble.
"Arya!" The brunette turned at her sister's yell and watched as she along with the older prince approached. While her back was turned Mycah hit her with his stick and she let out a small 'ow' before swinging back to face her sister.
"What are you doing here?" She sneered. "Go away."
The prince quirked his brow, "Your sister?" Sansa nodded. "And who are you, boy?" At the prince's question the butcher's son dropped his stick as his face became pale.
"Mycah, m'lord."
Sansa scoffed, "He's the butcher's boy."
"He's my friend," Arya spat at her sister.
"A butcher's boy who wants to be a knight, eh?" The tall lad blushed and glanced at the ground. Joffrey pulled his sword from its sheath, "Pick up your sword butcher's boy, lets see how good you are."
Mycah shook his head, "She asked me to, m'lord. She asked me to."
"I'm your prince, not your lord," He glared at the peasant boy. "And I said pick up your sword."
"It's not a sword, my prince. It's only a stick."
"And you're not a knight, only a butcher's boy." He smirked as ran the tip of his blade against the boy's cheek. "That was my lady's sister you were hitting, did you know that?"
"Stop it!"
"Arya, stay out of this!" Sansa grimaced at her sister while the younger Stark girl gave her a look of betrayal.
"I won't hurt him," The prince smiled at the younger male. "Much." The prince pushed the tip of his blade into Mycah's cheek and the boy flinched as the metal cut into his skin. Before Joffrey could harm the boy any further Arya raised her stick and hit him across the back. The moment the prince hit the ground Mycah took off into the woods to escape the deranged royal. Joffrey turned and began to swing his sword at Arya and the girl quickly jumped to avoid the sharp metal.
"Stop it, Stop it both of you!" Sansa cried as her sister continued to stay one jump ahead of many painful hits. "You're spoiling everything!" Arya's footing finally slipped and she fell to the ground with Joffrey's sword right in front of her face.
"I'll gut you, you little cunt!"
He threw the sword above his head and was about to jam it into the 10 year old's stomach when Nymeria jumped out of nowhere, latching onto the prince's hand. The prince screamed in agony and Arya flashed to pull her direwolf off of him. Once her wolf had retreated she grasped the boy's own sword, caught his fearful eye, and flung the blade deep into the Trident.
She and Nymeria then ran off into the woods, away from the chaos. Arya continued to sprint away until her lungs couldn't take the pressure anymore. The girl glanced around and tucked herself into a small crook of tree roots with her pet. They remained their for what seemed like forever, waiting in silence until she caught the sound of men nearby.
She hugged her direwolf and then started to push Nymeria away from her, "You've got to go. They'll kill you for what you did to Joffrey," The animal tilted her head at her mistress. "Go on, run." She refused to budge. "Go leave!" She still remained still and Arya panicked when she heard the voices coming closer. She closed her eyes until a solution popped into her head.
"Go home," Nymeria perked her ears. "Go home to Winterfell! Go now! Run home!" The direwolf finally turned on her heal and ran away from Arya and hopefully towards safety.
Not long after Arya was swept up by Lannister men and carried back to the inn. She was dropped in front of the King and Queen along with their dreadful son and most of the royal court. The young girl breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her father enter the room. Ned quickly scooped her into his arms and shushed her when she began to apologize.
"What is the meaning of this!?" He turned towards the King and Queen. "Why was my daughter not brought to me at once?"
Cersei scowled at the Northern lord, "How dare you speak to you King in that manner."
"Quiet woman," Robert started at his friend. "Sorry Ned, I never meant to frighten the girl. But we need to get this business done quickly."
"Your girl and that butcher's boy attacked my son," She gestured to Joffrey's wrapped hand. "That animal of hers nearly tore his arm off."
"That's not true!" Everyone in the room turned to the small girl. "She just bit him a little. He was hurting Mycah. He sliced open his cheek!"
The Queen shook her head, "Joff told us what happened. You and that boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him."
"That's not what happened! We were playing and-"
"Yes it is!" The crown prince cut off the girl before she could finish her sentence. "They all attacked me and she threw my sword in the river."
"Liar!"
"Shut up!"
"Enough!" The king exclaimed. "He tells me one thing, she tells me another. Seven Hells what am I to make of this?" He shook his head. "Where your other daughter, Ned?"
"In bed, asleep."
The Queen smiled, "She's not. Sansa come here, darling." Ned shot his head around to see his older daughter stepping out of the crowd of observers to stand next to him.
"Now child," Robert gestured at her. "Tell me what happened, tell it all, and tell it true. It's a great crime to lie to a King." Sansa glanced between her father and her betrothed.
"Well, the prince and I were walking and we noticed Arya and Mycah playing…." She stopped her words when she caught the searing gaze of the Queen and gulped. "And...and the next thing I remember is the prince on the ground and Arya running away." She shook while looking at the ground. "It all happened so fast. I don't really remember."
"Liar!" Arya pulled her sister's hair. "Liar! Liar! Liar! Liar!" Ned pulled his younger daughter away from his older one.
Cersei smiled at the sight, "She's as wild as that animal of hers. I want her punished."
"What would you have me do? Whip her through the streets?" Robert rolled his eyes at his wife. "Damnit children fight, it's over."
"Joffrey will wear these scars for the rest of his life."
Robert stared at his son, "You let that little girl disarm you?" The crowd murmured at the king's words while he faced the Lord of Winterfell once again. "Ned, see to it that your daughter is disciplined, I'll do the same with my son." Ned nodded his head and began to usher his girls out of the inn when the Queen spoke up once more.
"And what of the direwolf? What of the beast that savaged your son?"
King Robert sighed, "I forgot about the damned wolf."
A Lannister guard spoke up from the front of the crowd, "We found no trace of the wolf, Your Grace."
" No? So be it."
"We have another wolf."
The bearded man sighed, "As you will." Before walking towards the door. The whole of the Stark family felt a chill run down their spines as they realized what Robert was going to allow happen.
"You can't mean it."
He turned to Ned, "A direwolf is no pet. Get her a dog, she'll be happier for it."
"He doesn't mean Lady, does he?" Sansa whimpered. "No, no, not Lady. Lady didn't bite anyone. She's good!"
Arya chimed in, "Lady wasn't there. You leave her alone!"
While the girls began to become inconsolable Eddard called out to the King, "Is this your command, Your Grace?" The two men shared a look before the King left the room without another word.
"Where is the beast?"
"Chained up outside, Your Grace," The Queen smiled.
"Ser Illyn, Do me the honor."
Ned called out, "No. Jory take the girls to their rooms," He approached the callus woman. "If it must be done, I'll do it myself."
"Is this some trick?"
"The wolf is of the North, She deserves better than a butcher." With his words he swept from the room as the crowd began to disperse after him. He exited the inn and came around the side where Lady was calmly sitting with the rest of the dogs. He sighed and started to walk towards her when the Hound leading a horse up to the inn caught his attention.
"The butcher's boy," He breathed as he recognized the trampled body swung over the man's saddle. "You rode him down?"
"He ran, but not very fast."