Chapter 7

The rest of the journey south was uneventful, much to Steffon's relief. He had been travelling in the wheelhouse, something he despised. He wanted to ride again, feel free once more. However, his mother had insisted that he ride with them and eep them company for a while at least, and that 'while' had turned into the remainder of the journey. Not willing to go against his mother and cause another potential scene for his father to deal with, Steffon had reluctantly complied. Best not cause any further trouble on the way back to the capital. It wasn't all bad though; Arya had insisted on travelling on the same wheelhouse as him; which just so happened to be the one Cersei and Tommen were using (Robert had forced Joffrey to ride the rest of the way). Needless to day, the looks on Cersei's face were priceless. Steffon didn't know if the small amount of satisfaction he drew from it was wrong, but he didn't care.

One thing that did become noticeable was the fact that Arya and Steffon were becoming a bit more overt in their affections toward each other. For instance, they would always greet each other now with a slight peck on the other's cheek and were often holding hands. Cersei had been vocal in her disapproval of this; but Steffon had rebuffed her attempts to drive a rift between the young couple. All in all, it left a sour taste in Cersei's mouth that Steffon would be marrying this wild, untamed Northern girl. Straight away, she could tell that this girl wouldn't be as easily manipulated as Sansa; she'd have to put a lot of effort in.

The column pulled into King's Landing, with the Starks at the head. Steffon was the first out of the wheelhouse, not wanting to stay in their any longer. A Gold Cloak had arrived to greet the now dismounted Eddard Stark.

"Welcome, Lord Stark. Grand Maester Pycelle has called a meeting of the Small Council. The honour of your presence is requested." Said the Gold Cloak. Ned turned to the small crowd behind him.

"If you don't mind me imposing, My Prince, would you be able to get the girls settled in?" He asked. Steffon smiled.

"Of course My Lord." He said.

"If you'd like to change into something more appropriate . . ." The Gold Cloak trailed off whe he saw the blank look Ned gave him. Ned then simply removed his gloves and folowed the Gold Cloak, who by now, had realised the man's indifference.

Steffon turned to Jon, instructing him to escort them. Steffon was still unable to fight, so it only made sense. Jon for his part, had felt that he let down Steffon for not being there to protect him. As a result of this, the two had agreed that Jon would give Steffon proper weapon training as soon as he had fully healed.

He led the two Stark girls to their rooms. Upon reaching Sansa's, she promptly shut herself in the room, but not before shooting him and Arya a dirty look. The couple merely looked at each other with raised eyebrows and shrugged; if Sansa was going to be petty about their betrothal, it wasn't their problem. Steffon made sure that two Stark Guardsmen were posted outside her room before taking Arya to hers.

"Steffon, this room is amazing!" She gushed as they walked into the room, before tackling him to the ground in a very unladylike but affectionate manner. Steffon let out a small grunt of pain, and thanked the Seven that he'd had the presence of mind to shut the door because with Arya on top of him, it was a very compromising position, and would be doubly so if Jory, Jon and the Stark (or Baratheon, for that matter) Guardsmen had found them.

The two found themselves staring at each other again, as they had done on the Kingsroad, only this time, Steffon found himself staring into Arya's grey Stark eyes. He had always thought she was pretty, but now, he couldn't get past just how beautiful she looked. To him, she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. Yet there was also something deeper there; she was feisty, intelligent, and by no means a pushover. To him, these were her most attractive qualities; the good looks were just a bonus.

Arya meanwhile, had similar feelings. Damn it, how was that possible? She had always laughed at Sansa for being a starstruck girl who believed those stupid songs, yet here she was, ogling her betrothed. Ugh, why does he have to be so caring She thought. He was Joffrey's polar opposite in so many ways; he was a kind, caring soul who was always willing to put others first. He was always willing to hear people out and give them the benefit of the doubt. Oh, and then there was the fact that he was actually fairly good-looking as well. Like Steffon's thoughts of her, the looks were almost an afterthought.

The two began to close the distance, both of them subconsciously closing their eyes and puckering their lips. Finally, their lips joined for the first time, and oh was it joyous for them. Rather than breaking apart instantly, the two deepened the kiss slightly. Arya could feel something poking into her, and almost by instinct, knew that 'it' had gotten up. However, the two held the kiss for a fraction longer before breaking apart.

"That was . . ." Steffon began, speechless for the first time in a long while.

"Yeah" Said Arya, blushing fiercely. Steffon gently ran his thumb up and down her cheek.

"Arya, no matter what anyone says, you're the most beautiful girl in the world."

"Even if I'm Arya Horseface?"

"Stop that. You're not horse-faced at all. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. You may not be able to turn other men's heads, but you certainly do mine. It's good you don't have that effect on others."

"Why?" She asked, not knowing whether to be complimented or insulted.

"Because it certainly wouldn't do to have the Prince breaking other nobles' noses, would it?" He joked.

"No, it certainly wouldn't." She joked back. The two chuckled comfortably. Arya would never let it on around her sister, but being called Arya Horseface really did sting. She already knew she hadn't inherited the high cheekbones or auburn hair of their mother; her features were all dark hair and grey eyes like her father. Though as she looked at Steffon now, she began to see him as something other than the thin boy she'd met at Winterfell. His black hair seemed to only accentuate the deep blue of his eyes, and he was about as skinny as she was. At least they had that in common, she supposed. She did not wish to get married, but perhaps Steffon would give her the freedom she'd become accustomed to under her father.

Maybe they'd even be able to go back to Winterfell one day. Steffon seemed more at home with her family than here. Even if he was second in line for the Iron Throne after Joffrey. She smiled slightly.

"Everything alright, Arya?" Steffon asked.

Arya nodded. "Just never noticed how pale you are." She said. It had been something that she had thought of quickly, and prompted a lugh from Steffon.

"I get that a lot." He replied. Arya looked at him again; for some reason, everything just seemed to fit with him. The pale skin, the blue eyes, the black hair, it all seemed to go together. Spontaneously, she leaned forward and kissed him gently.

"Are you two al- oh Gods." Said Jon, walking into the room. The two broke apart and stood up embarrassed. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Jon asked, smirking for the first time since the two had met. The young couple frantically denied it before Jon shared some news with them. On Joffrey's orders, the Hound had killed Mycah. Arya's mood became very dark after that, and Jon and Steffon sensed that they should leave.

"I'll see you at supper then, Arya." Steffon said in goodbye, only to receive silence in return.

"Seems like you two have come a long way from Winterfell." Said Jon, leaving Arya to her own devices for now.

"We have. I think it may be something to do with the sword I gave her." He said, somewhat bitterly.

"You couldn't be more wrong, Steffon. She likes the sword, but what she likes more is the fact that you decided to support her as a fighter rather than a woman; what she likes most of all is that birth or gender mean nothing to you. You treat everyone equally." Jon argued.

"I get that from my uncle Stannis. He prefers commoners who have level heads over nobles who don't. It's one of the reasons he keeps Davos Seaworth close. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter whether we're highborn or not. Class is no substitute for intelligence."

Okay so, chapter finished. So Arya and Steffon's relationship is coming along well (as well as a small taster of what's to come) and we got an insight into Steffon's personal beliefs. While they sound noble, bear in mind that Westeros is a patriarchal society, and Steffon's ideas of equality are going to cause him trouble down the road. But for now, auf wiedersehen!