Chapter 6: Where Your Heart Is Now

Winterfell

Ned was busy reading letters when Jory Cassel announced the arrival of another raven.

"From King's Landing, My Lord," Jory announced, handing the letter to him.

Ned took it quickly and a smile formed on his face as soon as he started reading it.

"Who is it from, My Lord?"

"Arya," Ned said. He read it twice and put the letter on the table.

"Is she alright?" Jory asked again.

"Yes. She writes that she isn't as miserable as she first thought she'd be. But she writes that she's still angry with me."

Jory smiled. "Lady Arya has never been away from Winterfell before. She misses My Lord and Lady Stark and her brothers."

"Yes. I wonder Jory, if I took the right decision to leave them there."

"Both the ladies are direwolves, My Lord," Jory assured him. "They will be fine."

Ned nodded. He dismissed Jory and leaned back in his chair. The castle felt lonelier than before with the girls gone. Bran and Rickon were the only ones running around now. Although Sansa wasn't as michievious as the younger children, she used to play snowball fights sometimes with them. Ned missed Robb too. His oldest son was in Dorne, squiring for Doran Martell. Ned had written to him a few weeks ago, informing him of the girls' departure. Robb's reply came a few days later:

Dear Father,

I cannot tell you of my suprise at learning about Sansa's betrothal. It was too quick, don't you think? And Arya! I never imagined Arya to leave Winterfell, not at least till she marries, which is an even stranger thought. But as much as I would've preferred to be there, I am sure you have made the decisions for the betterment of our family. I've heard of Jon Targaryen. He is a said to be a good man. Arianne speaks highly of Jon's brother Aegon as well.

I have something else to tell you, Father. I am finding it very pleasant staying in Dorne. The weather suits me and so do the people. I have mentioned Arianne before, haven't I? She has grown to be my most trusted companion in Dorne. She is a very spirited woman, and although I had thought of her ways to be peculiar, I have grown to admire them. And might I add, love them.

I will ask you directly Father. If you give me your consent, I would like to ask Lady Arianne to be my wife. I am very much in love with her, and I can tell she is too. You can speak to Lord Martell. I am sure he will consent. He has been nothing but kind to me.

I will not press you to be quick with your decision. I know you will want to think on it. Please tell Mother of my wishes, and offer my apologies for not writing to her myself. I am hoping you will agree to the match, Father. My choice won't disappoint you.

I will be eagerly waiting for your answer. Give my love to Mother, Bran and Rickon. And if you write to my sisters, to them also. I miss Winterfell.

Robb Stark.

Ned hadn't thought of an answer yet. He had talked to Catelyn. She was as shocked as him, but then she was a Mother, and her love for her son overcame any doubts she had about the match and she agreed readily, adding that she was glad her son was happy. Ned wished for Robb's happiness too. He was sure Arianne Martell was a strong and capable woman. Ned respected Doran Martell's wisdom, and expected his daughter to be no less wise.

Maybe I should agree. Only, would Robb be truly happy? He didn't want Robb to regret himself.

And he couldn't deny the political support Dorne would provide Winterfell. The North was a vast kingdom, but every house needed allies. One can't predict war.

"Arya wrote to me," Ned said as he laid in his bed beside Catelyn. Her half-lidded eyes opened instantly as she clutched his tunic and turned to face him.

"Is she alright? And Sansa?"

"They are both fine. She mentions there is to be feast there next week. She asked me to come."

"Will you?" Cat asked.

"No, I won't," he said simply. "I'll write to Lya."

Cat sighed and rolled onto her back.

"I miss them, Ned."

"As do I."

"What have you thought about Robb's betrothal?" She asked again.

Ned fell silent for some time, then replied,

"I will write to Doran Martell tomorrow."

"I hoped you would, Ned. Robb would be very happy."

Ned closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Robb was to be the Lord of Winterfell after him. It was good of him to make choices for himself. Only, Ned hoped he had not made a mistake.

King's Landing

Jon walked to the training ground. It was usually unoccupied at this hour of the day, and the best time to have the place to himself. He liked dueling with his brother and other knights, but more than that he preferred practising alone, with no one to judge him if his sword slipped from his hand, or if he grew tired easily.

He was surprised when he saw someone already practising there. Jon instantly recognized who it was and his lips curved into a smile.

"You weren't lying then," he said. Arya turned and her face turned to one of surprise and relief when she saw him.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"You told Aegon you know swordfighting," Jon said, approaching her. "I am glad you're not a liar."

Arya curled her lip.

"I don't lie, stupid." Her eyes went wide when she realised what she'dd just said, and she bit her lip. "I shouldn't have called you that," she mumbled.

Jon laughed and Arya glanced up at him, frowning.

"You can call me anything, Arya. Even stupid."

Arya nodded. "It's not an insult anyway. I call everyone stupid." Jon laughed harder at that and she retorted quickly, "Not everyone. I mean, not Father or Mother. Just my siblings and my friends and-"

"Arya," she looked up at him. He was looking at her intently. "You can call me stupid. It's alright. I won't mind." He looked around. "It's still not daybreak. I didn't expect anyone would be here."

"I didn't expect you as well, actually."

Jon looked at the sword in her hands. "Who gave you that?"

"I borrowed it from a friend."

"Friend?" Jon raised his brow. "Egg?"

"No...,"

"Who then?"

Arya didn't reply and seemed to contemplate something. Jon noticed her eyes sparkle as she pointed her sword at his own. "Duel with me."

"What?" Jon frowned. "No."

"Come on! Don't you want to know who gave me this?"

"Mayhaps I don't."

"Don't worry." She edged closer to him. "I won't go too hard on you." She smirked.

Jon thought about it for a few moments. "Just once." He smirked. "But I have a condition."

"What?"

"If I win, you give me something I want. And if you win, I do the same."

Arya narrowed her eyes. "Am I falling in some kind of trap?"

"No, you're not." Jon laughed. "It's win or lose. What's a challenge without a prize?"

Arya hesitated, then nodded. "Alright, then."

They took their positions facing each other. Jon was the first to attack. He slid to his left and lunged at her, but she was quick. She dodged it easily and stepped away from him. She was good at dodging, Jon learned after a few moves. She could tire me out. Arya didn't attack much, but she was swift. Jon was feeling a little tired by attacking so he took a step back. They both circled each other, but this time he didn't attack and waited. As he had guessed, after a few minutes, Arya stormed at him. But he was stronger. Jon pushed her sword with his, but she escaped again. And again. Until one time she grew impatient and came too close. Jon swiftly disarmed her, and before she could pick up the sword, he pushed her until her back was against a tree. They both panted as Jon lowered his own weapon. Arya was heaving and when she looked up at him, Jon felt the irresistable urge to kiss her full lips. He resisted though, and instead smiled down at her.

"You lose."

Arya took a few more breaths before answering, her breathing still uneven, "What's your prize?"

"I'll think about it," Jon said, stepping away from her and picking up his sword. He sheathed it in its scabbard. Arya picked up hers.

"You are quick, I'll give you that," he said.

"Still I lost."

Jon sat on the ground and told her to sit next to him. Arya sat cross-legged.

"You could've tired me out," he smiled at her. "If you weren't so impatient."

Arya didn't reply, and Jon wondered if he had said something wrong. He was about to apologize when she spoke,

"Train me."

He looked at her questioningly.

"Teach me swordplay," she said again.

"Your sister will kill me," Jon jested.

"If she knows." The smirk on Arya's face was so contagious he felt himself mirror the movement immediately. "And you won't tell her. Right?"

"Maybe."

"I will take that as a yes." She looked around. "I should go," she said, but before she could get up, Jon grasped her hand.

"What about my prize?" He asked.

"What do you want?"

"Dance with me."

Arya looked at him as if he was mad.

"Now?"

"Of course not. At the feast. Save a dance for me."

"I don't dance," she retorted.

"I won the duel. You have to give me what I ask of you."

Arya eyed him carefully. Her lips twitched as she repeated,

"I don't dance, Jon."

"It will be your first time, then." He didn't try to hide the amusement in his voice.

She waited for a moment then let out a sigh.

"Don't blame me if I fall down."

"Not at all, My Lady." Jon grinned at the way she rolled her eyes. "Tomorrow at this hour?"

"Tomorrow." She pulled her hand from his and Jon realised he had been holding it all along. She got up and started walking away when Jon called her name. She turned.

"You didn't tell me who gave you that sword," he said.

Arya laughed. "Your mother." And before he could reply, she ran off. Of course, who else? Jon laid back on the grass and looked up. Arya. Just the name seemed to make him smile. He thought about her sister. Sansa was a sweet girl, but he didn't feel for her what he was beginning to feel for Arya. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her face. He wanted to make her laugh, the way she would throw her head back while doing so. He couldn't help but feel jealous of his brother for making her laugh like that. But Aegon always had a way with people. Jon didn't, but for her he wanted to be that person.

A strange thought crossed his mind. What would his Father say if he proposed marrying Arya instead? What would his Mother and Uncle say? But he didn't know if Arya even liked him yet. And Sansa, it would be unfair to Sansa.

His Father should have betrothed him to Arya instead. He could love her, he was sure. He couldn't say the same for Sansa.

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"Your Father should be here soon," Arya told him as he took his side beside her. Aegon and Sansa were sitting, but stood up as Rhaegar and Lyanna entered, Jon Connington behind them. Lyanna smiled warmly at all of them and sat down beside Sansa.

"The Tyrells are visiting King's Landing," the King announced. "Mace Tyrell, his youngest son Loras, and Margaery Tyrell."

Jon wanted to curse aloud.

"Margaery!" Aegon exclaimed, and Jon glanced at him. He was dangerously close to breaking into peals of laughter. "Jon's best friend!"

Everyone turned to look at him and he groaned. "Egg," he warned.

"Even if you don't like her, Jon," his Father spoke. "You will still have to be civil to her. She won't repeat her ways now. You are already betrothed to Lady Sansa."

Jon nodded.

"That is all, children. I hope you all are ready for the feast." Lyanna smiled. She looked at Arya, and took Sansa's hand. "I'm sorry Ned won't be here."

Arya looked sad but she nodded anyway.

The three left and there were only him, Aegon, Arya and Sansa left in the room. Jon looked once at Aegon and he bursted out laughing.

"Oh, brother. The horror on your face!"

"What so funny?" Arya asked curiously and shifted to Aegon's side.

"She is Jon's best friend. Didn't I tell you?"

"Really?" Sansa asked, just as amused as the other two.

"No!" Jon exclaimed. "She is...,"

"She likes clinging to Jon," Aegon said.

"Clinging?" Arya asked. She was smiling teasingly at him. "Really?"

"Oh, shush. Both of you! Don't tease him," Sansa scolded them, and Jon wanted to thank her so much until her next words. "Jon won't like to hear bad things about his best friend."

Jon groaned loudly, and all of them laughed.

"Isn't it late? You all should retire to your rooms," he said.

"You are impatient for the morning, aren't you, brother?"

"Actually, I am." Jon glanced at Arya. "There is a really interesting meeting tomorrow morning." She looked at him and bit her lip, trying to hide her smile.

"I'll take your leave," Sansa said and bowed. She took Arya's arm and took her along with her.

"You think no one notices, don't you?" Aegon asked him as soon as the sisters were out of sight.

"What do you mean?"

"The way you look at her," he replied, brow raised, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Jon feigned nonchalance. "I-I don't know what you"re saying."

Aegon snickered. "Come on," he said, throwing his arm over Jon's shoulder. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

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