I took Arya back to the sewing room; the Septa and the rest of the young ladies had long left it.
"Why did you lie?" Arya asked as we entered the room.
"Why should I see harm come to you and yours? Did you set your wolf on me? Did you want Nymeria to attack me?"
Arya shook her head. "No!"
"Then think nothing more of it." Now, let me see what you are doing when you make your stitches."
Arya frowned but didn't gainsay me. Probably felt she owed me one.
"No, stop. You were going too fast. Go slowly, you aren't clumsy, your problem is lack of attention to detail."
She grimaced at me. "My problem is that I don't want to be doing this!"
I nod. "Exactly! Your issue isn't a lack of skill, it is a lack of motivation."
Arya just looked at me expectantly. Finally, she said, "So your trick is for me to be motivated? That's stupid, I'll never be motivated to do this. I want to learn how to use a sword like my brothers!"
Children, always with their silly dreams. No, not everyone can be an astronaut or doctor or race car driver. You need to be realistic and find what you could do well enough to get promoted proving your value to an organization. For every one genius or once in a generation athlete that comes along that can achieve the pinnacle of their craft, there are millions who never come close to their childhood fantasies. The earlier people realized it, the better.
"Arya, there isn't much of a purpose in you learning the sword. You'll never have the strength and size that men have."
She narrowed her face. "There are stories of warrior queens and in the North, we have women that can fight. The Mormont's of Bear Island train their women to fight!"
I thought back to my lessons. Ah yes, the Mormont's did do that and they were known for being quite large and scrappy.
"I hear Dacey Mormont is six feet tall with a reach greater than most men, will you grow to be that size?"
"I could!"
"You won't. Look Arya I am not saying you shouldn't learn to defend yourself but a sword will do you little good. Even if you trained and became a more skilled opponent the Westeros way of fighting with heavy armor will put you at an extreme disadvantage. Maybe if you were a Greyjoy or lived in Bravos where fighting took place on ships you wouldn't be at such a disadvantage but you aren't."
Arya looked mulish but then grabbed onto one of the things I said. "You said I should learn how to defend myself but now with a sword, then with what?"
Hmm to show her? I didn't want it well known that I was armed but sharing a secret can cause further trust between two people.
"Can you keep a secret Arya? To tell no one about what I will show you?"
Arya nodded, excitement in her eyes.
Carefully I put up my reflex enhancements and then said, "Try to grab my arm. Go on, you have my permission."
Arya looked cautious but then tentatively grabbed at my arm. I let her and in less than a blink my other hand had palmed the dagger from its hidden location and my hand burred, placing the handle on Arya's throat, not the blade of course since if Arya flinched forward, it would cut her. Arya gasped.
"H-how? That was so fast!"
It was fast but my formula enhancements didn't necessarily make me faster, at least this one didn't, it just made me more graceful and sure of my movements, this was all within base human potential. I again marveled at how easy it was to use them, no weariness.
"Practice. No one expects a Princess to have a dagger on her person, or the ability to use it to kill a grown man. This dagger and potential enemies underestimating me is far more useful than any sword."
Arya looked at the dagger. "Can you teach me?"
Yes! If I mentored her in this skill, she would be open to favors in the future and I would have my in with the new Hand!
"If you'd like I can show you some tricks, just remember that the surprise is the critical part of this. If people know you are armed, and know you can defend yourself it doesn't work."
Arya smiled but then frowned. "But I want to fight in the open too!"
"You'll be on your own with that but I can show you some tricks with the knife if you want."
Arya agreed to that and so I spent the next thirty minutes or so demonstrating how to use it, how to cut into the jugular or what arteries are easiest to cut depending on how armored the person attacking you is.
"Back to what we were discussing regarding motivation. If you do well with your stitches and act in the ways your Lord Father and Lady Mother wish you to, this gives you a form of social currency that will allow you bargaining power in the future. With something so simple as needle work there is no need for you to go against the current. Save your social capital for things that truly matter to you."
I left her with a final warning to tell no one and to never use a hidden blade except in the case of life and death. The meeting had been highly productive!
***
Having some alone time to think I considered what may be going on with my magic. I had three major theories. The first was that proximity to these direwolves, who apparently could grow the size of a small horse, had made things easier. I tested this idea and my magic seemed as draining as it was earlier in the day when the wolf had attacked. If proximity mattered it didn't require me being in the same room.
The second potential idea is that different parts of Westeros had more ambient energy, or less strict physical limitations on magic. I cursed myself for not regularly testing my magic as I traveled. If geographical location mattered this could change much. When I inevitably had to marry, I would want to do it in a location where magic came easy. This wouldn't happen again; I would use my magic at least once a day to test if location changed things.
The third theory is that as I was nearing puberty it somehow made my abilities stronger. This could be tested with time but no way to prove it in the short term. I resolved to make sure I kept careful calculations. How long could I hold my reflex boosting formula before feeling the first signs of fatigue? I wouldn't be silly enough to write down my thoughts, just the number of seconds, the location I was in and my age. In a few years' time I could apply the data to my theories and see which was the most plausible.
Right now, I can keep them up for three minutes. After that my performance would begin to deteriorate and I would have about two minutes left before I suffered complete mana exhaustion. This was far, far better than what I could do previously.
Given the extra ease in using my magic I may even try to see about other formulas. Enhanced strength when in combination with the reflexive formula would be powerful, unfortunately it was quite difficult. Keeping several formulae in effect at the same time really did require a computation orb, the best I could manage with my calculations was two and the drain was considerable giving me less than half of the 'up' time as just holding one enhancement. Still, it was always wise to have a deep toolbox for potential life ending encounters.
Having explored my magical capabilities I went to see what texts the Winterfell library had. It was no surprise for me to see Tyrion reading a tome.
"Hello uncle, anything interesting in here?"
The dwarf smiled and looked up. "Not much, my favorite niece. Some scrolls tracery marriages between Northern houses, a list of shipments to the Wall a few hundred years back and the rest are copies of common works. Some books over there," he pointed to a slightly less dusty section, "have some stories from the Age of Heroes that aren't quite the same as the ones we have south of the Neck."
I avoided rolling my eyes or commenting on the favorite niece line. I was his only niece. The Age of Heroes was a time where magic was common in Westeros, much of it just fables and legends but with my abilities being enhanced, for whatever reason that may be, it could mean that there was some truth to them and I could glean something productive.
"I'm in a mood for amusement uncle, I recall you intend to visit the Night's Watch and see the Wall."
"I'm curious and wonder what it would be like to piss off the edge of the world."
I ignored that as well. He enjoyed being crude.
"Do you think mother would let me accompany you?"
Tyrion blinked. "No and if you intend to ask, please make sure I'm not nearby. Your mother will accuse me, again, of corrupting you."
"Why not? With how dreadfully slow the wheelhouse moves, and it constantly needing repair, we could see the Wall and take a ship from Eastwatch-by-the -Sea and be in Kings Landing around the same time as the royal party."
By going further north I would be able to determine if my increased abilities were due to geography. I had not decided if I would seriously seek to do this, as separating from the Starks as they traveled south would miss the opportunity to ingratiate myself with them but I wanted to see the feasibility of doing this.
Tyrion shook his head. "It grows colder the further north you go, and the Night's Watch is full of murderers, rapists, and thieves. Taking a girl, let alone royalty, is madness."
"That's why we have guards Tyrion, if you thought you were at serious risk you wouldn't be making the trip."
"You wound me Myrcella, am I not a valiant Lion of Casterly Rock?"
I shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'd have guards who would protect my life and virtue and the chill is surmountable."
Tyrion frowned again and before he could say more, I continued. "I have not decided if I even want to go to the Wall so no need to be anxious." With that I began to peruse the books while my uncle muttered and took a long drink from his wine cup.
***
After a few days I made it a point to get introduced to the wolves in controlled situations. Nymeria seemed wary but under the careful gaze of the kennel master and the Stark children I was able to pet them. As an additional test after they were put up, I spun up my reflexive enchantment. All the wolves instantly looked at me but did not growl.
These creatures could sense magic. It likely made them wary but after being introduced and trusted by their master's apparently it was fine.
"It seems these wolves are already trained to a great degree; I see little reason for them to be kenneled instead of free to be with the Stark children."
The kennel master said it would be up to Lord Stark and that he would discuss it with them. This was good as I did not want the Starks to place any blame for being separated from their pets most of the day due to my encounter with Nymeria.
I took the time to have lemon cakes with Sansa outside of sewing lessons and we gossiped as young girls are want to do. I'm by no means a fan but watercooler talk was something I was familiar with. Sansa seemed quite naïve but she knew all her courtesies and was perfectly polite. I learned that Eddard Stark had accepted the King's offer to be made Hand and Sansa, Arya and Bran, the middle son, would be going south. Robb would remain with his mother along with the youngest, Rickon Stark.
I took time during those days to watch Bran and Tommen play. Bran was far more boisterous than my brother. It did him good to play with another child his age and I saw some signs of Tommen demonstrating some competitive vigor in their races. I encouraged Tommen to take part and it seemed clear that he and Bran would be fast friends, it helped that Tommen took his losses gracefully.
Robb Stark was busy learning what his duties would be, it seemed as if Catelyn would be in charge but she intended to let Robb run things to garner experience ruling Winterfell. Succession planning was an area where many corporations from my first life failed to do adequately. This had led more than one firm to go under when a powerful executive retired and their shoes could not be filled.
I left him to it but did dine with him in a group setting during the evenings. I also made time to read stories to Rickon who would always ask for more. Despite the drain on my time, it seemed I was making a good impression on Catelyn who took the time to join me when I sat with Rickon and Bran.
As the days quickly went by it would soon be time to leave. I still toyed with the idea of traveling north to the Wall and then sailing back to Kings Landing but I'd hate to attempt such a thing and then be overruled by mother.