Chapter 2

Okay, so welcome to chapter 2. I've been blown away with the response to the first chapter, and that people liked it so much. So I'm feeling so generous that I had to write chapter as soon as I could. 

I should mention as well, because I have other plans for Jon, most of the story at the Wall will be told through Gendry. I'm sending him to the Wall much earlier than in canon, mainly because the happenings at Castle Black are bloody important in the series' ultimate context. To this end, Gendry will be much more prominent here than in canon. Unfortunately because of this, there will be minimal interaction between him and Arya. Sorry everyone.

One thing I did receive positive feedback about was making Steffon a middling warrior at best, while making him a naturally skilled commander instead. I will state that this is largely sue to Stannis' influence. It's frequently stated in both the books and the show that Stannis is a skilled commander, probably best exemplified in the final episode of season 4 when he catches Mance Rayder's Wildling army in a pincer movement. This is also because as the reviewer Michael pointed out, swordsmen like Barristan Selmy or Arthur Dayne are exceedingly rare.

The other reason for this is because while Steffon does care for his father, he sees what his father for what he has become, rather than romanticizing him. He's afraid of becoming like his father, which leads him to focus more on commanding troops than actually fighting. One thing Michael also pointed out was that Tywin does best when commanding an army, but I can extrapolate a bit. While it's a bit subtler in the books, the TV show makes a point of Tywin being surrounded almost completely by incompetents and fools, save for Kevan and Tyrion. In fact, I'd say that those three are pretty much the only sane men on the Lannister side. Jaime was little more than a swordsman (and he has an honourable streak he won't admit), Cersei is so stupid she pretty much turned the entire country against her, and Joffrey is, well, Joffrey. 

I should mention as well that the impending romance between Steffon and Arya (the hint's in the title) will be one of the main focuses of the entire story, hence why I selected it as one of the genres. 

But anyway, moving on the story now!

The courtyard at Winterfell was dominated by the sound of clashing steel, as Robb and Steffon tried to outfight each other with the dull practice swords. Arya, who was observing the fight from the bridge between the Great Keep and the Armoury, viewed it with great interest. For her vantage point, she could see that Steffon, while competent, was nowhere near as good as Robb. Indeed, he was only able to barely block or parry Robb's attacks. Suddenly, Steffon dived into a vicious overhead strike, which Robb deftly parried before sidestepping out of the Prince's road and bringing the edge of the blade onto the Prince's back, knocking him to the ground.

"Looks like you're not as skilled as some people would have us believe, Steffon" Said Robb, grinning.

"I told you, I'm an average fighter at best. I'd like to fight Jon though, see how good he is." Steffon replied. Oh this should be good thought Arya. Jon was Winterfell's best sword; everyone in the North knew that.

"My Prince, it would not be appropriate for you to spar with a bastard." Said Ser Rodrik Cassel, Castellan of Winterfell.

"Oh bollocks to that, let him spar." Said Steffon. Sansa, who had crept up beside her to watch as well, covered her mouth in shock at hearing the Prince say something like that. Arya on the other hand, giggled.

Ser Rodrik handed Jon a sword. Steffon and Jon began circling each other, before Steffon leapt into an attack. Almost effortlessly, Jon sidestepped the attack and like Robb had done, slammed his sword into Steffon's back, again knocking him to the ground. Jon offered his hand, pulling Steffon up.

"You just dive into your attack, Steffon. You try to put too much force into it. Try to focus on attacking quickly; don't wind up too much. Speed often defeats size. Focus on fast, well-placed attacks instead of throwing too much force behind it." Said Jon, giving a rare smile.

"Thank you Jon. I'll try to remember that." Steffon replied, smiling again. Joffrey had up until now been watching from the sidelines, but now he walked forward, his characteristic smug smirk planted on his face.

"You've never been a good fighter Steffon. You know that." He said, smugly.

"I can still outfight you, brother." Steffon said, almost mockingly. Robb and Jon exchanged looks, while Arya had opened her mouth slightly. How could two brothers hate each other so much?

Rodrik offered a dulled sword to Joffrey, who snatched it out of Rodrik's hand. He assumed a fairly sloppy stance, while Steffon moved into a proper fighting stance. Joffrey then made the same mistake Steffon did; trying to put too much force into an attack. Steffon parried the blow, sidestepped and bringing the sword down onto Joffrey's back. It was an almost exact mirror image what had happened just minutes ago; except it was Steffon who was offering his hand to Joffrey and not someone else offering their hand to Steffon. Ungratefully, Joffrey slapped Steffon's hand aside and stood up, disdainfully throwing the practice sword to the ground.

"Ser Rodrik, I tire if playing with toy swords. We will use live steel for the second fight." Said Joffrey, smiling sadistically.

Rodrik shook his head "Absolutely not; it's far too dangerous and neither of you are particularly accomplished swordsmen. One of you could end up badly injured or worse." Said Rodrik, with a tone that said 'that's final'. Joffrey, not willing to try his luck further, stormed out of the courtyard in a huff.

"Do either of you know where Theon is?" Asked Steffon.

"He's probably with the whores at the inn. No reason to disturb him." Said Robb. Steffon made a mock look of disdain that got laughs from both Robb and Jon, something that left Steffon immensely satisfied. He said his goodbyes for now; he wanted to get organised for the feast after sundown.

"What a brute." Said Sansa. "He's nothing like Joffrey. He's to afraid to fight him with a proper sword and he's not even that skilled with a sword." She went on. Arya rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Joffrey still lost their fight." She replied.

"Joffrey's the Crown Prince. He's got more important things to worry about. Now if you'll excuse me . . ." Said Sansa, rudely shoving past Arya, who again rolled her eyes before looking down at the courtyard again. Robb and Jon were busy fighting, while Steffon had wandered off. She settled in to watch her brothers fight.

On the way back to his chambers, Steffon came across young Bran, who was climbing down from one of the battlements.

"Hello, Bran. What are you doing climbing?" Steffon asked.

"Well I like climbing." Bran replied.

"And didn't your mother tell you not to?" Steffon asked, rhetorically. Bran looked at the ground, his direwolf looking up at him, cocking his head to one side. "Bran, you need to listen your mother." Said Steffon, kneeling down to Bran's height. "Hey, look at me, Bran." He said. Bran lifted his head. "If you can promise me no more climbing, then I-Ser Barristan, just the man I wanted to see!" Steffon said.

"Your mother had sent me to find you." Ser Barristan said.

"No doubt to scold me for mocking Joffrey." Steffon replied. Ser Barristan did not offer any sort of reply, but is normally nonplussed expression flatered for just a fraction of a second at that. "Say, Ser Barristan, do you beleive that Bran here has the potential to be a knight?" he asked.

"Beyond a doubt. " Barristan said warmly.

"And would you take him as a squire?"

"I'd be honoured to train any son of Eddard Stark"

"So be it then. Bran if you can promise me no more climbing, then Ser Barristan here will take you as his squire, and train you to be a knight. What do you say to that?" Steffon asked. Both he and Barristan could tell that it was taking enormous restraint for Bran to contain himself.

"Okay, I won't climb anymore." Said Bran, before running off exictedly, his direwolf following him.

"I think you just made the boy's day." Said Barristan.

"I hope so. He'd make a fine knight." Steffon replied. Barristan silently agreed. A son of Eddard Stark would've undoubtedly inherited his personality traits.

The day was pretty much over after that. Well, after a short scolding from his mother, it was. Steffon retired to his room to prepare for the feast. He'd been instructed by both his parents not to wear his padded armour, and despite a minor argument, he eventually submitted and decided to wear a doublet with the Baratheon sigil embroidered on it and trousers. It was simple and would undoubtedly leave his mother unimpressed, but Steffon didn't care

Soon enough, it was time. Taking one last opportunity to look over himself, he adjusted his doublet and left his chambers. Well, here goes nothing he thought.

And there's the end of the chapter. I know canonically that the sparring took place the morning after the feast, but in terms of the story, I thought that it would serve me better here. 

As for the interaction between Steffon, Bran and Barristan, it just came to me off the top of my head. Barristan always seemed to strike me as a sort of fatherly figure, and we saw on the show that he had great respect for the Starks. In my mind, he'd willingly train any one of Ned's sons. 

So, the feast is next up and then the trouble on the Kingsroad. Auf widersehen, folks!