For this chapter, I decided to do something a little differently. I changed the second half of the original 'Arya I' in AGOT, leaving the first half intact. Thus, for the full chapter, one would have to read from the start of the chapter up to the time where Arya meets Jon, when they begin observing the training. I might just do this up until the time where Olyvar's existence makes significant changes in the original story. Remember, my goal is for the inclusion of an OC while still attempting to keep the main story and its arcs intact. With that said, the first POV for the not-so-ladylike Lady Arya of the House Stark. Cheers.
Jon gave her a curious look. "Shouldn't you be working on your stitches, little sister?"
Arya made a face at him. "I wanted to see them fight."
He smiled at her. "Come here, then."
As she climbed up alongside her brother to join him in watching the boys sparring, Arya felt appreciative of having Jon Snow as her brother. The embarrassment of her stitching being crooked earlier, the mocking look on Jeyne Poole's face. No doubt what Sansa would have shown her if she wasn't so well bred. The apathetic look on the Princess' face, and the demeaning nature of Septa Mordane. All of it was forgotten when she had found Jon.
As the sight of the training grounds came into view, she was disappointed. It was only the younger boys fighting under the guidance of Rodrik Cassel, and Bran and Prince Tommen were so heavily padded than they were having a tough time moving. What a stupid way of fighting. Arya thought to herself. They can barely move at all.
"A shade more exhausting than needlework." Jon observed.
"A shade more fun as well." Arya responded, causing her brother to roar in laughter. Arya continued looking on, and saw that Robb was also in the yard, cheering Bran on. Beside him was Olyvar, who was wearing a small smile as he observed. Ayra was glad that he was back in Winterfell. She remembered all of the fun the two of them had exploring Winterfell during his previous visit. It was well worth being scolded by her mother and Septa Mordane.
"Enough!" ser Rodrik called off. "Well fought. Lew, Donnis. Get them out of their armor." He looked around. "Prince Joffrey, Robb, will you go another round?"
Robb, already sweaty from the previous bout, moved forward eagerly. "Gladly."
Prince Joffrey stepped into the sunlight in response to Rodrik's summons. "This is a game for children, Ser Rodrik."
"You are children." Theon Greyjoy barked at the crown prince.
"Robb may be a child. I am a prince, and I grow tired of swatting at Starks with play swords."
"You got more swats than you gave, Joff." Robb said, Arya sensing a hint of pride in his voice. "Are you afraid?"
Prince Joffrey looked at him. "Oh, terrified." He said. "You're so much older." Some of the Lannister men laughed.
"Never mind him, Robb." Arya's head spun when she heard Olyvar addressing the rest of them. She had almost forgotten that he was even there. "The Prince is simply worried that his pride will be tainted if he loses again. It will show that he has no skill in swordsmanship. A fact that has already been established for those of us who have lived in King's Landing."
"That cousin of yours is bold." Jon commented. Arya nodded absently in agreement, but something about Olyvar's tone had caught her off guard. It wasn't the same pleasant tone that she had always heard in his voice. He was addressing the Crown Prince with compete distain, if not loathing. And from how red in the face that Joffrey got, Ayra could tell that the feeling was mutual.
"You would do kindly to not talk to your future King like that!" The boy's handsome features were erased, his face shriveled up in anger and malice. The Lannister men had stopped laughing, instead shooting scathing looks towards Olyvar. Arya also noticed Robb and Theon, both smirking due to Olyvar's words.
"Thankfully the King still has many years ahead of him. If you rule as well as you fight, I shudder to think how Westeros will suffer." The Arryn men laughed while the Stark men gave smirks. But Arya could tell that Olyvar was not saying these things in jest. He was serious, even from where she was she could see the sharpness in his eyes and hear it in his voice.
"Live swords!" Joffrey was now fully red in the face, furious at these slights. He motioned for a sword, which one of his men procured for him. The prince drew it, and pointed it at Olyvar, fury on his face. "I intend to remove those wings of yours, Arryn!"
An air of dire seriousness overtook the grounds. No longer was their laughter, the smirks on men's faces long removed. Arya could even feel Jon tense up, as if he was readying himself to rush in. Arya watched as her cousin's stoic face looked at Joffrey, his hand drifting ever closer to the hilt of his own sword.
"My lords. Cease this madness!" Rodrik made his voice known in the silence. "I will not permit the use of live swords on these grounds." Despite this command, the stare down between the Crown Prince and Olyvar continued for a couple of moments more, both boys refusing to look away. They hate one another. Arya thought that Joffrey was a right arse, but she had not expected Olyvar to be so bold in addressing the heir to the Iron Throne.
Finally, Joffrey sheathed his sword, regaining his former composure but still shooting a look of loathing in the direction of Olyvar. "Come Tommen. The hour of play is done." Arya watched as the plump little prince followed his elder brother away from the grounds, escorted by the Lannister men, all of them lead by a large man with a burned face. "These children are beneath us."
Robb's curses rang throughout the yard as Theon was holding him back. Ser Rodrik's face was red with fury due to Joffrey's insults. But Arya saw that Olyvar remained as he was, seemingly unfazed with Joffrey's slights.
"Another day, Your Grace. Another day." Ayra could hear the venom in her cousin's voice and saw as he watched with his sharp eyes as the princes departed. Eyes that even from this distance looked like those of a falcon. But as soon as Joffrey was out of sight, Olyvar returned to the pleasant mood that she had been so accustomed of seeing since his arrival. "Robb, care to take up arms with me?"
Robb was still looking at the Lannister men who were walking away, fuming. After a few moments, he calmed down, and Theon released him. "Of course." This is what Arya had been dying to see since Olyvar's arrival, and knew that Robb too had awaited it eagerly. Now, they would both see how much the Young Falcon had improved in his time away.
"It might be high time you return to your needle lessons, Arya." Arya turned to see Jon looking at her. "Septa Mordane's punishment will only grow the longer you remain out of her sight."
"But I want to watch Olyvar and Robb!" Arya said defiantly, turning back to watch as her brother and cousin, both in the possession of tourney swords. Olyvar had shed his cloak and opted for a shortsword and shield, unlike Robb who was wielding a longsword that was similar to Ice, which he would wield one day.
"Begin." Ser Rodrik's command prompted the boys to begin circling one another. Robb made the first strike, using his blunt longsword to swing down. Olyvar raised his shield to defend himself, deflecting Robb's sword as it made contact. The Lord of the Eyrie then swung at her brother's leg, but Robb was able to sidestep it.
"Arya!" Arya's head turned sharply to see a sight that she had been dreading; Her mother was marching towards her down the hall, Septa Mordane following closely behind.
"And this is where I take my leave. Good luck." Jon flashed her a look of sympathy before leaving, Ghost following swiftly behind him. Ayra cursed in silence, dreading the berating that her mother was about to deliver. With one last look, she saw the swords of Robb and Olyvar clash once final time, before hopping off the window and preparing herself for her mother's criticisms.
A/N: Our questions comes from Grey Winf, who I can only assume should be Grey Wind, but hey, we all make typos. He/She asks: "Is Olyvar the same age as Robb and Jon?" In the timeline, Olyvar is thirteen, born nine months after Robb was, placing him between Robb and Joffrey in age.
The second question comes from a Guest, asking "Wouldnt Olyvar gone back to cement his rule of the Vale instead of travelling north?" Good question, but there are a number of reasons why the Lord of the Eyrie traveled North. First, his mental state is fragile, and he feels like he needs to be around his family, namely his Stark cousins. Also, I believe that Lysa's nature, as well as the Blackfish's influence, will solidify Olyvar's rule before he returns to take his seat at the Eyrie. It's like Robert, being fostered by Lord Arryn whilst still being the Lord of the Stormlands.
I'd also like to thank everyone else who has left a review on the story. It's been very fun to write so far, as I'm sure that it's been fun for everyone to read. I hope I can keep everyone's interest in it.