A Game of Thrones Chapter Seven

AryaAryas stitches were crooked over once again.She fr birthed slash at them with terror and glanced over to where her sister Sansa sat among the early(a) missys. Sansas needlework was exquisite. Every bingle verbalise so. Sansas work is as pretty as she is, Septa Mordane t older their lady cause once. She has such fine, delicate hands. When Lady Catelyn had asked some Arya, the septa had sniffed. Arya has the hands of a blacksmith.Arya glanced furtively crosswise the room, worried that Septa Mordane might have hire her thoughts, b atomic number 18ly the septa was paying her no c atomic number 18 today. She was sitting with the Princess Myrcella, all smiles and admiration. It was non practically that the septa was privileged to instruct a majestic princess in the wo objet dartly arts, as she had tell when the sissy brought Myrcella to join them. Arya thought that Myrcellas stitches behaviored a niggling crooked besides, but you would neer k straightway it from the agency Septa Mordane was cooing.She studied her own work again, looking for some way to salvage it, then sighed and put crop up the needle. She looked glumly at her sister. Sansa was chatting away merrily as she worked. Beth Cassel, Ser Rodriks detailed girl, was sitting by her feet, listening to every intelligence operation she tell, and Jeyne Poole was atilt over to whisper something in her ear.What atomic number 18 you talking ab bug out? Arya asked explosively.Jeyne gave her a galvanise look, then giggled. Sansa looked abashed. Beth blushed. No one answered. testify me, Arya said.Jeyne glanced over to make certain that Septa Mordane was non listening. Myrcella said something then, and the septa laughed a spacious with the rest of the ladies.We were talking about the prince, Sansa said, her voice soft as a kiss.Arya knew which prince she meant J striketey, of course. The tall, handsome one. Sansa got to sit with him at the feast. Arya had to sit with the shrimpy fat one. Naturally.Joffrey homogeneouss your sister, Jeyne whispered, horsely as if she had something to do with it. She was the daughter of Winterfells steward and Sansas de arest friend. He told her she was very beautiful.Hes passage to marry her, little Beth said dreamily, gorgerin herself. so Sansa allow be queen of all the realm.Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily, Arya thought with sm opposite resentment. Beth, you shouldnt make up stories, Sansa corrected the younger girl, gently stroking her blur to prepare rid of the harshness out of her words. She looked at Arya. What did you speak out of Prince Joff, sister? Hes very gallant, dont you think?Jon says he looks like a girl, Arya said.Sansa sighed as she stitched. short Jon, she said. He gets jealous because hes a bastard.Hes our brother, Arya said, overmuch to a fault loudly. Her voice cut done the afternoon placidness of the tower room.Septa Mordane increase her eye s. She had a bony face, s brood eyes, and a thin lipless oral fissure make for frowning. It was frowning now. What are you talking about, children?Our one-half brother, Sansa corrected, soft and precise. She smiled for the septa. Arya and I were remarking on how rapturous we were to have the princess with us today, she said.Septa Mordane nodded. Indeed. A immense honor for us all. Princess Myrcella smiled uncertainly at the compliment. Arya, why arent you at work? the septa asked. She rosaceous to her feet, starched skirts rustling as she started across the room. permit me witness your stitches.Arya wanted to scream. It was right like Sansa to go and attract the septas attention. Here, she said, surrendering up her work.The septa examined the fabric. Arya, Arya, Arya, she said. This will not do. This will not do at all.Everyone was looking at her. It was too much. Sansa was too well bred to smile at her sisters disgrace, but Jeyne was smirking on her behalf. Even Princess M yrcella looked glooming for her. Arya felt up tears filling her eyes. She pushed herself out of her c sensory vibrissa and bolted for the door.Septa Mordane called after her. Arya, come put up here Dont you take another tone of voice Your lady mother will regard of this. In front of our gallant princess too Youll shame us allArya halt at the door and turned cover, caustic her lip. The tears were triflening down her cheeks now. She bonkd a stiff little bow to Myrcella. By your leave, my lady.Myrcella blinked at her and looked to her ladies for guidance. But if she was uncertain, Septa Mordane was not. Just where do you think you are going, Arya? the septa de musical compositionded.Arya glared at her. I have to go shoe a horse, she said sweetly, taking a brief satisfaction in the shock on the septas face. Then she whirled and make her exit, running down the steps as fast as her feet would take her.It wasnt reliable. Sansa had everything. Sansa was two years cured maybe b y the time Arya had been born, on that point had been nothing left. Often it felt that way. Sansa could fix and dance and sing. She wrote poetry. She knew how to dress. She bestowed the broad(prenominal) harp and the bells. Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mothers fine high cheekbones and the thick chromatic hair of the Tullys. Arya took after their lord father. Her hair was a lusterless brown, and her face was long and solemn. Jeyne used to call her Arya Horseface, and neigh whenever she came near. It cut that the one thing Arya could do let on than her sister was ride a horse. Well, that and musical compositionage a household. Sansa had never had much of a head for figures. If she did marry Prince Joff, Arya hoped for his sake that he had a good steward.Nymeria was waiting for her in the guardroom at the base of the stairs. She bounded to her feet as soon as she caught sight of Arya. Arya grinned. The brute pup loved her, til now if no one else did. They went everywhere together, and Nymeria slept in her room, at the foot of her bed. If Mother had not interdict it, Arya would gladly have taken the animate being with her to needlework. Let Septa Mordane complain about her stitches then.Nymeria nipped eagerly at her hand as Arya unbuttoned her. She had yellow eyes. When they caught the sunlight, they gleamed like two well-disposed coins. Arya had named her after the warrior queen of the Rhoyne, who had led her populate across the narrow sea. That had been a large s undersidedal too. Sansa, of course, had named her pup Lady. Arya made a face and hugged the wolfling tight. Nymeria licked her ear, and she giggled.By now Septa Mordane would certainly have sent word to her lady mother. If she went to her room, they would find her. Arya did not charge to be found. She had a better notion. The boys were at institutionalize in the molar concentration. She wanted to turn around Robb put gallant Prince Joffrey flat on his foul. Come , she whispered to Nymeria. She got up and ran, the wolf sexual climax hard at her heels.There was a window in the covered couple mingled with the armory and the Great take place where you had a view of the whole yard. That was where they headed.They arrived, fortunate and breathless, to find Jon seated on the sill, one leg drawn up languidly to his chin. He was watching the action, so inattentive that he seemed unaware of her approach until his ovalbumin wolf move to meet them. Nymeria walk closer on wary feet. Ghost, already larger than his litter mates, smelled her, gave her ear a careful nip, and settled back down.Jon gave her a curious look. Shouldnt you be working on your stitches, little sister?Arya made a face at him. I wanted to see them fight.He smiled. Come here, then.Arya climbed up on the window and sat beside him, to a chorus of thuds and grunts from the yard below.To her disappointment, it was the younger boys drilling. Bran was so heavily padded he looked as though he had belted on a featherbed, and Prince Tommen, who was plump to begin with, seemed positively pear-shaped. They were huffing and puffing and hitting at each other with padded wooden swords under the watchful eye of old Ser Rodrik Cassel, the master-at-arms, a great stout kegful of a man with magnificent livid cheek whiskers. A dozen spectators, man and boy, were calling out encouragement, Robbs voice the loudest among them. She uneven Theon Greyjoy beside him, his black doublet emblazoned with the golden kraken of his House, a look of wry contempt on his face. both of the combatants were staggering. Arya judged that they had been at it awhile.A shade more(prenominal)(prenominal)(prenominal) exhausting than needlework, Jon observed.A shade more fun than needlework, Arya gave back at him. Jon grinned, reached over, and messed up her hair. Arya flushed. They had always been close. Jon had their fathers face, as she did. They were the altogether ones. Robb and Sansa a nd Bran and even little Rickon all took after the Tullys, with lenient smiles and fire in their hair. When Arya had been little, she had been afraid that meant that she was a bastard too. It been Jon she had gone to in her fear, and Jon who had calm her.Why arent you down in the yard? Arya asked him.He gave her a half smile. Bastards are not allowed to damage young princes, he said. Any bruises they take in the practice yard must come from trueborn swords.Oh. Arya felt abashed. She should have realized. For the second time today, Arya reflected that vivification was not fair.She watched her little brother sock at Tommen. I could do just as good as Bran, she said. Hes only seven. Im nine.Jon looked her over with all his fourteen-year-old wisdom. Youre too skinny, he said. He took her arm to feel her muscle. Then he sighed and shook his head. I suspect you could even lift a longsword, little sister, never mind swing one.Arya snatched back her arm and glared at him. Jon messed up her hair again. They watched Bran and Tommen circle each other.You see Prince Joffrey? Jon asked.She hadnt, not at first glance, but when she looked again she found him to the back, under the shade of the high stone wall. He was surrounded by men she did not recognize, young squires in the livery of Lannister and Baratheon, strangers all. There were a few older men among them knights, she surmised.Look at the arms on his sur rise, Jon suggested.Arya looked. An ornate nurse had been embroidered on the princes padded surcoat. No surmise the needlework was exquisite. The arms were pided down the shopping center on one side was the invest stag of the royal House, on the other the lion of Lannister.The Lannisters are proud, Jon observed. Youd think the royal sigil would be sufficient, but no. He makes his mothers House equal in honor to the kings.The woman is important too Arya protested.Jon chuckled. possibly you should do the same thing, little sister. get hitched with Tully to S tark in your arms.A wolf with a fish in its mouth? It made her laugh. That would look silly. Besides, if a girl cant fight, why should she have a coat of arms?Jon shrugged. Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms. I did not make the rules, little sister.There was a shout from the court below. Prince Tommen was rolling in the dust, trying to get up and failing. All the padding made him look like a tump over on its back. Bran was standing over him with resurrect wooden sword, ready to whack him again once he regained his feet. The men began to laugh. passable Ser Rodrik called out. He gave the prince a hand and yanked him back to his feet. Well fought. Lew, Donnis, help them out of their armor. He looked around. Prince Joffrey, Robb, will you go another round?Robb, already sweaty from a previous bout, moved forward eagerly. Gladly.Joffrey moved into the sunlight in response to Rodriks summons. His hair shone like spun gold. He looked bored. T his is a game for children, Ser Rodrik.Theon Greyjoy gave a sudden bark of gag. You are children, he said derisively.Robb may be a child, Joffrey said. I am a prince. And I rick tired of swatting at Starks with a play sword.You got more swats than you gave, Joff, Robb said. ar you afraid?Prince Joffrey looked at him. Oh, terrified, he said. Youre so much older. both(prenominal) of the Lannister men laughed.Jon looked down on the setting with a frown. Joffrey is truly a little shit, he told Arya.Ser Rodrik tugged thoughtfully at his snow-covered whiskers. What are you suggesting? he asked the prince.Live steel.Done, Robb dig back. Youll be sorryThe master-at-arms put a hand on Robbs shoulder to quiet him. Live steel is too dangerous. I will permit you tourney swords, with blunt edges.Joffrey said nothing, but a man strange to Arya, a tall knight with black hair and burn scars on his face, pushed forward in front of the prince. This is your prince. Who are you to tell him he m ay not have an edge on his sword, ser?Master-at-arms of Winterfell, Clegane, and you would do well not to forget it.Are you training women here? the burned man wanted to know. He was muscled like a bull.I am training knights, Ser Rodrik said pointedly. They will have steel when they are ready. When they are of an age.The burned man looked at Robb. How old are you, boy?Fourteen, Robb said.I killed a man at twelve. You can be sure it was not with a blunt sword.Arya could see Robb bristle. His pride was wounded. He turned on Ser Rodrik. Let me do it. I can beat him. sting him with a tourney blade, then, Ser Rodrik said.Joffrey shrugged. Come and see me when youre older, Stark. If youre not too old. There was laughter from the Lannister men.Robbs curses rang through the yard. Arya covered her mouth in shock. Theon Greyjoy seized Robbs arm to keep him away from the prince. Ser Rodrik tugged at his whiskers in dismay.Joffrey feigned a yawn and turned to his younger brother. Come, Tommen, he said. The hour of play is done. Leave the children to their frolics.That brought more laughter from the Lannisters, more curses from Robb. Ser Rodriks face was beet-red with cult under the white of his whiskers. Theon kept Robb locked in an iron grip until the princes and their party were safely away.Jon watched them leave, and Arya watched Jon. His face had grown as calm down as the pool at the summation of the godswood. Finally he climbed down off the window. The show is done, he said. He band to scratch Ghost behind the ears. The white wolf rose and rubbed against him. You had best run back to your room, little sister. Septa Mordane will sure as shooting be lurking. The longer you hide, the sterner the penance. Youll be fix all through winter. When the spring resolve comes, they will find your body with a needle still locked tight between your frozen fingers.Arya didnt think it was funny. I detest needlework she said with passion. Its not fairNothing is fair, Jon said . He messed up her hair again and walked away from her, Ghost abject silently beside him. Nymeria started to follow too, then halt and came back when she saw that Arya was not coming.reluctantly she turned in the other direction.It was worsened than Jon had thought. It wasnt Septa Mordane waiting in her room. It was Septa Mordane and her mother.