Chapter 8

Hello and welcome to a new chapter! I feel I should mention that the story is going to slow down a bit from here on until the war begins; as most of the story will revolve around it. Instead, we'll get to see the relationship between our favourite young couple will grow, see Bran and Myrcella's relationship grow, see Gendry train at the Wall, and see Ned characteristically fumble everything in King's Landing.

Here we go!

Winterfell had become a lot quieter lately, ever since Catelyn had left for King's Landing for reasons that Myrcella wasn't made aware of. She had pretty much stayed by Bran's bedside the whole time, never leaving it. Bran had woken intermittently, and hadn't spoken that much so far. He had thought he wouldn't be able to walk again, but Maester Luwin and Myrcella had assured him he would. This was a relief for him; he'd still be able to squire for Ser Barristan!

He was also happy for Myrcella's company; he found it more enjoyable than sitting through one of Old Nan's stories and if he was being perfectly honest, he did find her pretty. In fact, there was little doubt in his mind that she'd even surpass the Queen's legendary beauty. Even at her young age, he though Myrcella was easily the most attractive girl he'd seen in real life. Oh yes Old Nan's stories occasionally told of the legendary beauty of the Targaryen Queen Rhaenys, but he thought that Myrcella would be able to give Rhaenys Targaryen a run for her money.

His eyes flickered open, and he looked over to his left to see Myrcella asleep in her chair, one of Maester Martin's books open on her stomach. He smiled to himself; she looked simply adorable when she was asleep.

"It's not polite to watch a lady when they're asleep Bran." Said a voice. Bran flicked his eyes over to the door to see Robb smiling knowingly at him. Ever since, their father had gone south, Robb and been slowly assuming the role of Winterfell's acting ruler, a position that he'd stepped into completely when their mother had left. In truth, Robb was already proving to be a great leader. The damage from the fire had been cleaned up in no time, and the few structures that did burn were either repaired within hours or were currently being rebuilt.

"I know, Robb; but I can't help it. She's just . . ." Bran trailed off. He didn't know how to word the rest of the sentence without embarrassing himself.

"I understand, Bran. Believe me, Prince Steffon understands it too."

"I know. Although he did make me promise I wouldn't do anything unbecoming of her on threat of death." Bran said, smiling. He still couldn't work out if Steffon had been joking when he said that; the boy did care about his younger siblings. A short groan signified Myrcella waking. The two looked over to see the young girl stretching in her chair, and then looking a bit sheepish when she realised that she'd fallen asleep reading a book.

"So, what's for breakfast?" She asked. The two Stark boys chuckled before heading down to the Great Hall. Bran, still recovering from his fall, had to use crutches in order to walk for now. Not that it stopped Myrcella from walking beside him and laughing at anything he said. She hadn't felt this way about anyone before, and yet this boy who she'd known for a few days had turned her into a constantly blushing mess. How was that even possible? Deep down, she knew, but that was dangerous territory; at least for now.

The courtyard of Castle Black rang with sound of steel on steel as Gendry sparred with another recruit, Grenn. Gendry block Grenn's incoming strike with his blade before smashing the pommel into Grenn's face, breaking his nose. The blade isn't the only part of a sword Jory had said to him once.

"If that were a real sword, you'd be dead. Waters here grew up in Flea Bottom breaking noses of people like you." Said Alliser Thorne, the Master-at-Arms for Castle Black. The 'breaking noses' part was wrong through; Gendry never wanted to hurt people but had to on occasion in self defence, and he'd learnt early on the best way to neutralise an attacker was a straight punch to a spot between their chest and stomach (he'd overheard Maester Luwin call it a 'solar plexus'). The fact that he had that knowledge though meant that people often simply avoided him. "Pyp, you think the King's bastard bleeds like the rest of us?" Said Thorne, signalling another recruit, Pypar (or Pyp for short), to attack. Gendry promptly knocked him down with one move. Thorne signalled twice more, and twice more the Night's Watch recruits ended up on the ground. Thorne then told them to clean themselves up.

Gendry headed over to the armoury; he spent a lot of time there, seeing as he was a smith by trade. As he packed away his practice gear, Grenn and a group of other recruits walked in.

"You broke my nose, bastard!" He bellowed. Gendry was getting really sick and tired of the abuse the other recruits seemed to always have for him, fed on some sort of misconception that because he was a king's bastard, he'd get special treatment in Flea Bottom. Thorne's work, no doubt.

"It's an improvement." Gendry snarked in reply. In response, Grenn and two other recruits rushed forward and grabbed him.

"If we threw you over the Wall, I wonder how long it'd take before you hit." Grenn said menacingly.

"I wonder if they'd find you before the wolves did." Said another. Just as Gendry was sure the three were going to beat him, Tyrion walked into the armoury.

"What're you lookin' at, half-man?" Grenn asked.

"I'm looking at you. You've got a very interesting face. Very distinctive faces, all of you." He said, with a menacing tone that was so subtle to the point where Gendry only barely caught it.

"What do you care about our faces?" Asked a recruit.

"It's just that I think they'd look marvelous decorating pikes in King's Landing. Perhaps I should write to my nephew, Prince Steffon, about it. He sees Gendry as a borther, you know." Tyrion finished. Not wanting to incur the wrath of Tyrion and by proxy, the Prince, the recruits sheepishly wandered to another part of the armoury.

"Everybody knew what this place was like, and they didn't tell me. Even the Prince didn't tell me, and you said he considers me a brother." Said Gendry, bitterly.

"Don't doubt Steffon's words. I know him and he doesn't throw words around lightly."

"He still left me here." Gendry said, throwing his practice armour on the ground.

"Grenn's father left him outside a farmhouse when he was three. Pyp was caught stealing a wheel of cheese. His little sister hadn't eaten in three days. He was given a choice: his right hand or the Wall. I've been asking Lord Commander Mormont about them. Fascinating stories, ever single one of them." Tyrion said, his inner compassion coming out.

"They hate me because I know how to fight." Gendry insisted.

"It's a lucky thing none of them were trained by a Captain of the Guards like Jory Cassel. I don't imagine they've ever held a real sword before they arrived here. Byt he way, your brother wanted you to know that Brandon Stark has woken up."

Back in King's Landing, Arya, Sansa, Septa Mordane and Steffon were eating at a table. Steffon had politely asked Lord Stark for permission to join them, and he had been allowed to. Steffon was a bit nervous though; Arya's mood hadn't really improved since she found out that Mycah was dead. Currently, she was stabbing a knife into the table. While Steffon chuckled quietly at this, Sansa and Mordane were less than amused.

"Enough of that, young lady. Eat your food." Mordane said in a harsh tone. Steffon had already grown to dislike the woman. To him, it seemed like she doted on Sansa while paying little to no attention to Arya.

"I'm practicing." Arya responded simply.

"Practicing for what?" Asked Sansa, a bit haughtily.

"Joffrey." She replied.

"Arya, you do not talk about Prince Joffrey like that in front of his brother!" Mordane shouted.

"He's a liar, a coward, and he killed my friend."

"The Hound killed your friend." Sansa responded, determined to defend her beloved Joffrey.

"The Hound does what Joffrey tells him too." Arya responded.

"Sadly, Arya's right. Clegane's little more than Joffrey's personal hatchet man. I seem to get the impression that he gets fed up dealing with my brother though." Steffon chimed in.

"You're an idiot Arya!" Sansa shouted.

"And you're a liar!" Arya shouted back.

"Enough!" Mordane roared, instantly cowing the two girls into silence just as Ned entered the room.

"What's going on here?" He asked in his thick Northern accent.

"Arya would rather begave like a beast than a lady. In front of her betrothed, no less." Mordane said. Steffon set down his fork and knife.

"If you'll excuse me, Lord Stark, I believe I've lost my appetite."

"I have too," said Arya "There's too much hot air to eat normally here anyway. Will you escort to my room, Steffon?" Arya asked sweetly, smiling for the first time since the news of Mycah's death had reached her.

"Of course, my love." Steffon replied, offering Arya his arm, which she gladly took. Sansa, as always when the two showed affection towards each other, scoffed silently. Steffon made a point of walking close by Mordane on their way out. "If you ever call Arya a beast again, I will personally throw you into the Blackwater, and I'm not in the habit of making idle threats." He said menacingly, causing Mordane's face to go pale.

The young couple walked up to Arya's room, arm in arm. Arya was excited at the prospect of starting her swordfighting lessons tomorrow, and Arya being excited always brought a smile to Steffon's face. Honestly, she was like a hyperactive puppy sometimes.

"Thank you for standing up for me, Steffon. No-one's done that before." She said as they wandered into Arya's room.

"It's not a problem, Arya." Said Steffon.

"It's just that . . . I don't want to be a proper lady. I hate everything about it. Most men would say it makes me even more unattractive than I already am." Arya said solemnly. Despite how well she may've tried to hide it, she was still a bit self-conscious about her looks. She had always said to her parents and Jon that the horrible nicknames that Sansa, her friend Jeyne Poole and others had called her didn't bother here, but truthfully, it did.

"Hey, Arya, come here." he said, sitting down on her bed and holding out his arms. Arya said beside him and hugged into him. "What makes you think I want a proper lady as a wife?" He asked. "Arya, I like you because you can stand up for yourself." He thought he should tell her about Baelon and Alyssa Targaryen, how the two had been so deeply in love her whole life despite her less that stunning looks. He decided against it after a moment; hearing of Alyssa's other loves were probably not the ideal conversation between them. He simply held her for a while, though he wasn't sure how far he should push his luck. He simply pressed a kiss to her forehead instead of trying anything else. The blissful moment was interrupted however, by Lord Stark knocking on the door. The two quickly broke apart and said their goodbyes, smiling at each other.

The next day, Arya showed up for her lesson to see a man with strange hair holding two practice swords.

"You are late, boy." He said. "Tomorrow, you will be here at midday." The man continued.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"Syrio Forel, your dancing master." The man said. He then tossed one of the wooden swords to Arya, who proceeded to miss it entirely. "Tomorrow you will catch it. Now pick it up." Arya did so. "That is not the way, boy. This is not a greatsword that needs two hands to swing it."

"It's too heavy." She complained.

"It's just as heavy as it needs to be to make you strong. One hand is all that is needed. Now you're standing all wrong, turn your body side-face. Your are skinny. Good. The target is smaller." Syrio continued instructing her for the rest of the afternoon, visited by Steffon and Lord Stark. Steffon was just eager to see Arya again (seriously, the two were seen together most of the time) and Ned had wanted to see his daughter train. The Prince and the Lord of Winterfell watched Arya and Syrio spar, but before long, Ned's grin was turning into a grimace. He could hear the sounds of the battlefield coming back to him. No, he thought, I will never enter another battlefield if I can help it.

And there it is! So we got glimpses of the goings on in Winterfell and at Castle Black, not to mention that we got our first *ahem* intimate session with Arya and Steffon. Trust me, there'll be many more before I finish this. In terms of continuity, we've just reached the end of "Lord Snow", so I'd like to think I'm moving fairly quickly. Anyway, auf widersehen!