The following day the three of them tried to settle into being children until they made a proper plan other than searching through the library and training Sansa to be a fighter, they couldn't fathom out why they'd come so far back in time, before their entire worlds changed. To complicate matters, they knew that although they'd yet to hear word of the death of Jon Arryn; it was going to happen within the next few days, and then the preparations for King Robert's arrival.
During the morning, the three of them had their various lessons covering histories and sums. That afternoon was dedicated to sparring for the boys and embroidery for the girls. However, Sansa and Arya, much to the shock of Septa Mordane, were able to complete their entire two-hour lesson in less than ten minutes, allowing them to go watch the boys spar and to help Sansa learn how to use a bow and arrow.
Arya and Sansa reached the training yard just in time to watch Jon and Robb practising on the training pell while Theon was helping Bran with his archery skills, for Theon was by far the best archer of all the Starks.
"He's the one you want to teach you archery." Arya stood almost statuesque, like Sansa, her hands were clasped behind her back. "I'm a competent archer, but not as good as him."
"I don't need to be as good as Theon." Sansa whispered. "As long as I can hit a target."
"I'll give you a one month head start, then we get into competition?" Arya raised an eyebrow.
"I've never been very competitive." Sansa shook her head. "I'd never beat you."
"Well, now is the time to start. You've got a few years to become as good at killing as me." Sansa turned to Arya and gave her a cold stare. "I know you don't want to kill or be a killer, but you've already taken lives, even if you only ordered their deaths. And be honest, please don't say you wouldn't like to kill Joffrey or Ramsay with your own bare hands." Sansa's eyes simply dropped to the floor, a tiny lift of the corner of her lips gave Arya her answer.
"Arya, unless we find a way for father to not leave Winterfell and for me to not be betrothed to Joffrey, we won't have a month."
"Stop acting like a Lady, it might put them off." Arya shrugged. "Wear breeches."
Sansa almost snorted. "Can you imagine mother's face?"
Arya looked her sister up and down. "I dare you."
"I'll have those breeches of mine finished by tomorrow. Jon's old ones aren't too difficult to adjust to fit me." Sansa sighed. "Robb and Jon are about to spar, who would you wager to win?"
"Robb." Arya told her sister. "Jon is a far better fighter, probably one of the finest swordsmen in all of Westeros, but everything Jon can do is from years of physical training. The things his twenty odd year old body can do are completely out of reach for his seventeen-year-old physique. I saw him battering the seven hells out of the training pell, he was getting really frustrated at not being able to do the things he'd normally be able to do."
"Fancy a wager?" Sansa asked.
"Go on then. What are we wagering? Neither of us have money."
"I'll do your embroidery for a week if Robb wins." Sansa said.
"And if Jon wins?" Arya asked.
"Distract mother for a week by being the perfect daughter." Sansa offered.
"Are you intending to rebel?" Arya looked at her sister wide-eyed.
"I'm intending to find out what is actually going on in this place. I want to go through the ledgers, to see what damage Theon and the Bolton's did. We might not have time to stop father from going south, but I need to be ready to take on running the castle as soon as possible. Winter is coming."
Jon and Robb were getting ready to select their training swords. "Mother is going to find it odd that you are supporting Jon and I'm supporting Robb." Arya whispered.
"Mother's not here." Sansa frowned.
"She's behind us." Sansa turned her head and saw her mother looking on in surprise; Sansa rarely watched the boys training, especially not this close; so, of course their mother would find it strange.
"And why aren't you in your lessons?" mother asked from behind.
Arya turned around. "We were too good. We finished our planned lesson and Septa Mordane let us go. Beth and Jeyne are still up there. We decided watching the boys spar, was far more interesting."
Their mother looked at them in such a way that Arya could tell she knew something was off. "You I would expect, but your sister..."
Sansa turned and smiled. "One day, when I'm betrothed, I will have to witness my husband sparring, I should at least learn to understand what I'm watching. Arya kindly volunteered to explain it to me." she said so sweetly that Arya thought she would be sick. "And if he ever rides in a tourney or off into battle, I need to be confident he will win or come back to me." Deciding this was the perfect time to play her younger self, Arya stuck two fingers in her mouth and pretended to gag, which earned her a glare from their mother.
"I'm sure you are supporting your brother." mother said to them both.
"We drew blades of grass, I got Robb, Sansa got Jon. It is only fair that they have equal support." Arya lied, much to their mother's dislike.
"I would prefer it if Sansa was not cheering... him on." Cat's face turned to disgust.
Sansa stood up straight, Arya knew their mother had picked on the wrong person. "Jon has a direwolf, he is pack. The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. I support all of our pack, I do not see why that should exclude Jon." Sansa turned her back to her mother and put her hands to her mouth. "Go on Jon." she shouted, just as the boys were about to start. Arya looked at Robb and Jon, who were both shocked to hear Sansa's championing him, albeit Robb more than Jon. Sansa had just spent almost two years supporting Jon in their endeavours, it was natural for her to be behind him. However, Sansa was never this vocal, or unladylike. Even Arya was becoming confused with Sansa's behaviour, however, that wasn't Arya's immediate concern, she knew what was coming next.
"You!" came mother's voice. "Leave the training yard. Robb if you wish to spar, spar with Theon." her Tully blue eyes were burning bright with anger.
"Cat." came father's voice, Arya sighed, this was getting out of hand. "What's goin on here?"
Arya watched their father take their mother to one side. For her part, Sansa looked unruffled, she glared at Jon, and Arya knew she was telling him to stay where he was. Robb seemed perturbed by what was going on, Jon simply seemed resigned to being treated like a piece of dirt. He walked over to Arya.
"It's alright." he looked glum.
"No, it's not!" Arya and Sansa said loudly and in unison, catching their parents' attention, and that of many onlookers.
"If mother knew..." Sansa started.
"And how do you propose we tell them how we found out?" Jon asked.
"Robert will be here soon. We..." Arya started.
"Since when did you call me Robert?" Robb frowned.
"Told'ya." Arya grinned, trying to recover from her faux pas. "Anyway, shh, let's listen."
They all pretended to be talking, mouthing words, but in truth they were listening to her parents talk.
"I will not have it, Ned!" Cat said.
"It's just a childish sparring match." Ned sighed. "The girls do right watching on. Who knows that they might have to see their husbands off to war."
"But Sansa, we can't have her support... him," everyone but Jon winced at the comment.
"Cat, sometimes you have to pretend to like people you wouldn't normally like. It's important practice, especially if she is to go to court. It's a dangerous place." Sansa screwed her face up, for once Arya wanted to hug her sister, she noticed Jon looking at her protectively. Arya knew some bits and pieces of what Sansa had been through with Joffrey, Ramsay and Littlefinger, Jon knew a lot more. It was odd to see the child Sansa being protective of Jon, although Arya suspected this might not bode well for Jon.
"Ned. She can't be seen consorting with a bastard." Cat stated. "I don't know what's got into them, it feels like I've got two completely different daughters." Arya saw their mother glance over towards them.
"What's going on?" Robb whispered.
"I've become good at embroidery and Sansa is taking an interest in military history. She wants to learn archery." Arya told him.
Robb looked at their sister in shock. "Why?"
Sansa kept her composure. "I hear it is the done thing for ladies to learn to use the bow. I hear even the rose of Highgarden has taken to shooting. The Mormont ladies learn. I think it might be of use. It is a graceful weapon of choice should I ever need to protect myself," she looked up at Robb imploringly. "Would you teach me? Mother won't let Jon or Theon teach me, and I'm not sure Arya has the patience." Sansa glanced down at her apologetically, but Arya understood why her sister had asked Robb. Should he be the one to champion her cause, their mother would relent.
"Aye, I suppose, if mother will allow it." he nodded. "Have you asked her?"
"Not yet." Sansa shook her head. "I think we might have to wait a couple of days before we broach the subject." Robb nodded in agreement as Ned approached them.
"Father?" Sansa looked up.
"I think you two should watch from up above. I wouldn't make it too obvious who you are supporting, either," he sighed.
"I think the entire castle knows." Arya shook her head.
"That it maybe, but remember yourselves. You are the future of house Stark, young ladies must behave a certain way, calm and collected. Not like a rowdy mob." he said.
Sansa rolled her eyes. "Young ladies need to wear a different type of armour, for we also fight our own battles. Words are as deadly as a sword, when used properly. I would never presume to act like I'm in a rowdy mob unless the situation requires it of me." She took out a handkerchief from her dress and tied it around Jon's sword. "I can't shout for you, so I will give you my favour," she smiled, turned and walked upstairs to the balcony to watch.
"What's up with yer sister?" Ned asked.
"She's pining over Waymar Royce." Arya sighed as Robb snickered, Arya glanced at Jon who also pretended to laugh.
"Go join yer sister." Arya nodded and turned. "Go on, lads. Get back to your sparring," she heard him say as Arya joined Sansa on the balcony. She looked below and saw her mother turning puce from witnessing Sansa giving Jon her favour.
"Seven hells Sansa. Be careful. I've just told father you're pining over Waymar Royce." Arya told her. "You don't need to protect him. He's a fucking prince."
"He was a King!" Sansa reminded her.
"You aren't helping him by protecting him, you're making matters worse." Arya glared.
"I know." Sansa pinched her nose and sighed. "I'm so used to having to defend him when he wasn't able to defend himself..."
"That you can't stop." Arya understood, Sansa nodded.
"We need to tell father we know who Jon is." Sansa shook her head and then smiled. "Or trick the information out of him."
"How? He's kept the secret for so long, there's no way he'd slip up." Arya watched her sister making plans.
"A play."
"About what?" Arya shook her head.
"Aegon the Conqueror and his two sister wives." Sansa smirked. "Father's reaction will be... interesting. Robb can play Torrhen Stark. Aegon is always seen as the villain in the north, so it would be apt for Jon to play Aegon. We will play his wives."
"Ew." Arya shook her head. "Do you think Jon will do it?"
"It gives me an excuse for the archery." Sansa said. "Shall we watch the boys?"
Arya turned her head to look down below as Jon and Robb took their positions and began. At first Jon was clumsy, but he held his own. Being one of the greatest swordsman in Westeros certainly helped. Admittedly, this was the first time she'd actually witnessed Jon spar since she'd returned from Braavos. They'd never had the opportunity to actually fight, therefore Arya had clearly underestimated how accomplished Jon had become.
"Seven hells Sansa. He is deadly," she whispered.
"He's doing terrible compared to normal., but he's toying with Robb. If this had been the other Jon, Robb would've been dead in seconds." Sansa paled slightly. "If he was trying now, Robb would be beaten in seconds."
Arya watched carefully and could see what Sansa meant. Her sister had overseen much of the training at Winterfell while Jon had been away, she now had a keen eye for how a sparring match should go, and Jon's abilities were clearly superior.
"He can't show Robb what he's capable of. It would arouse too much suspicion."
"I know." Sansa replied, however only moments later, Robb was on the ground with a training sword at his neck.
Sansa and Arya clapped; Arya glanced at her mother who was watching the match closely, anger was radiating from her. Robb got up, and they set to go again, it must have been the best of three. This time Jon didn't mess around, Robb was on the floor no sooner than he'd gotten up, looking at Jon with surprise.
"People are going to wonder how Jon suddenly became so proficient with a sword. He wasn't bad before, but Robb often beat him. Jon's not trying, he could take Robb down with his eyes closed." Sansa said as Arya's attention was caught by the shocked face of their father.
"Sansa, look at father. He's transfixed."
"As is the entire castle. Is that what he's normally like?" Arya asked.
"He's more controlled, but I got a glance of him in battle. This is nothing compared to what he is capable of."
"How in seven hells are we going to deal with this?"
"We need to tell father the truth. He might not believe us, but they've not had word of Jon Arryn yet. We tell him we have seen things in the future and that father will shortly receive a raven telling him Jon Arryn is dead and how the King will come to Winterfell and ask him to be hand."
"Jon won't agree to it." Arya shook her head.
"What choice do we have? None of us are capable of hiding our true selves. We need help."
"Alright, we need to talk to Jon tonight. When will father find out about Jon Arryn? Can you remember?" Arya asked.
"I think I'd had Lady a week." Sansa said.
"No need for the mummer's farce." Arya smiled.
"Hasn't that been the story of our lives the last seven years? A mummer's farce." Sansa gave her Lady of Winterfell look.
Arya laughed. "We'll talk to Jon after dinner. Then we'll talk with father. Only he needs to know."
"For now." Sansa agreed.
That evening after dinner, the three of them made their way to the Godswood. The ground was wet as it had been raining for most of the day, but it was still warm. There hadn't been summer snows for over a moon, according to what Sansa had heard from Beth and Jeyne.
"We need to speak with father." Sansa spoke first. "It seems none of us can…. restrain ourselves. He needs to know something."
"He'll think we're mad," Jon shook his head.
"I suspect he's already of that mind," Arya sighed.
"Tell him we know about Jon and warn him about Jon Arryn and the royal visit." Sansa suggested. "Once news of Jon Arryn's death reaches him and the royal visit, he can't doubt our word."
"Who's going to be the one to tell him?" Arya looked to Sansa. "You two are the politicians."
"I'll start." Sansa said, turning to Jon. "But you have the highest authority in the room. You outrank father, even now," Jon frowned. "You are still a prince."
"In exile. Not now," Jon shook his head.
"Robert used his Targaryen heritage as his reason for taking the Iron Throne. Once Viserys and Daenerys were in exile, he was next in line. He didn't need to use right of conquest. However, you have a greater claim than Robert." Sansa said.
"I don't want the Iron throne." Jon started pacing.
"If you want men..." Sansa started.
"We've gone over this." Jon said. "I know, it is the best way to defeat the army of the dead." he sounded deflated. "But do you think Lord Stark will rise against his best friend?"
"I'm not so sure Robert is his best friend." Sansa said. "We need to talk to him tonight. Just give him enough to trust us. We don't want to scare him. But he needs to know we are the only Starks left."
An hour later, they were standing outside their father's solar, ready to talk to him about the future. Sansa had found their father, and he'd agreed to meet with them. They'd all been behaving so strangely, he was curious to find out what was the cause. Sansa knocked on the door.
"Come in," their father called. They filed inside and sat down. "I think it's time you three explained yourselves."