"Loras is your son and heir. He doesn't need a tourney to be knighted."

Why the fuck is it always the show fans? Also, by the way Tyrion even if he did inherit The Rock, it wouldn’t have matter he would’ve still joined joffrey regardless.

God, that can never really be a good GoT fic can’t they?

Jaime is an Cersei too. I think Margaery is just as bad. Hope that Tommen&Myrcella get a happy ending.

Interesting au
And is great to see a fic not focused in the Starks or Targaryens.
There are alot of characters and sadly fandom doesn't focus on them.
And it's interesting to root for Tyrion when technically he and the Lannisters are against int Starks (in canon)

"No, my lords." She couldn't say that Ned wasn't a traitor. There was only just one way to save him (Ned). "I know he must be punished. All I ask is mercy. I know my father must regret what he did. He was King Robert's friend and he loved him. You all know he loved him. He never wanted to be Hand until the king asked him. They must have lied to him, Lord Renly or Lord Stannis or someone else. Somebody, they must have lied! I know my father would never have done what he did otherwise."

"He said that I would die. He told my lady mother that I wasn't the king, that I had no right on the Iron Throne. Why did he say that?"

"He was badly hurt. Maester Pycelle was giving him milk of the poppy. He wasn't himself. Otherwise, he would never have said it."

The members of the small council looked at each other. Joffrey wasn't looking at her anymore. The next person to speak wasn't the King she blindly loved naively, but Lord Varys.

"A child's faith. Such sweet innocence. And yet they say wisdom often comes from the mouth of babes."

"Treason is treason!" Pycelle opposed.

No, it couldn't happen. She looked at Joffrey, pleadingly begging him with her eyes as much as with her words, "If you still have any affection in your heart for me, please do me this kindness, Your Grace."

Her king looked at his hand as he answered, "Your sweet words have moved me. But your father has to confess. He has to confess and say that I'm the king… or there'll be no mercy for him." His eyes were hard and unforgiving. Again, Sansa was frightened. She felt a chill run along her spine.

She dropped her eyes to the ground, "He will."

She should be happy. Ned was going to live. She saved him. Then why did she have the impression that things wouldn't go as well as she hoped? She dared to look again at Joffrey, and she met the same hard glare. Her time at the inn came back to her mind, when King Robert asked her what happened. Joffrey had a similar expression back then. He hadn't talked to her for months after this.

Joffrey is not who he seems to be. For your own sake, I hope you'll realize it before it's too late. For the first time, Sansa considered that Lady Lannister could be right about Joffrey if Ned ended up dead. For the second time, she believed that perhaps Joffrey wasn't the charming prince she thought he was. Which only lasted one second. She quickly, though hardly this time, told herself that Margaery Lannister could only have lied, or that perhaps she was wrong.

Sansa donned an olive green gown which was made of silk and brushed her hair in braids. She had to make the best impression for today. Ned's fate may depend on it, and she couldn't allow herself to make any mistakes. She repeated what she needed to say again and again before today, and she was ready. Her king, Joffrey was her only chance. Joffrey is not who he seems to be. For your own sake, I hope you'll realize it before it's too late.

Lately, these words turned around in her mind nonstop. She heard them in her sleep, during breakfast, dinner and supper, as she'd sewn, written, and even when she relieved herself. No matter how much she tried to ignore them, Margaery Lannister's words were more alive now than they ever were. She hadn't seen Joffrey since the morning of the day she went to speak to Queen Cersei. She told her that Ned wanted to send her back to Winterfell, and begged her (Queen Cersei) to convince him (Ned) to let her (Sansa) stay here. She'd been confined in her rooms. She'd seen no one for two days, and the servants who brought her food, didn't even talk.

At last, Cersei summoned her and told her that her Ned tried to betray Joffrey. Sansa still didn't understand how Ned could've done this, and she wished to see him, to know what happened, but Queen Cersei refused. She'd written a letter to Robb on Queen Cersei's orders, telling him to come to King's Landing and kneel before Joffrey. Sansa hoped they could end all this when Robb arrived, however, she strangely felt that he (Robb) wouldn't come. Things were wrong here. In the last weeks, she was given free movement in the castle, though there were two guards who followed her everywhere. Cersei claimed that they were honor guards for her future daughter-in-law, however, Sansa didn't feel safe with them around. They frightened her more than anything else.

Sansa had no news of Arya. No one wanted to tell her anything. Which was as if she became a ghost. There were also fewer southerners in the Southern Red Keep. As she walked to the Great Hall, she'd seen another example of how deserted the Southern Red Keep was. Where a hundred men would stand on the floor for an audience, they were only twenty or thirty today. None of them paid any attention to her as she'd taken her place in the attendance.

Gold cloaks and red cloaks were lined along the columns, a hundred of them. Janos Slynt, their commander, was there. His men had been patrolling the Southern Red Keep ever since Sansa got the permission to leave her rooms. She'd never seen the gold cloaks here before. They appeared at the same time Ned was arrested and Arya vanished into thin air without a trace. Their presence made make her feel unsafe. She looked at Janos Slynt, the man who angrily glared at her in return. She looked away.

"Lady Sansa." Her eyes have fallen upon Ser Kevan Lannister, the Master of Laws. He was always kind to her since she arrived, and he was the first person to address her today. He was also Ned Stark's friend.

"Ser Kevan."

He bowed before her, "I'm surprised to see you here, My Lady. You're not forced to assist, if you don't want to."

"It is my duty, Ser. I have to."

"Have it your way. I will keep you company, if you wish."

"Thank you, Ser."

He smiled reassuringly. They stood there in silence for a long time, waiting. "I heard that your son, Lancel was knighted. I'm very happy for him," she said timidly with a voice so low that she was afraid for a moment he didn't hear her.

"Thank you, My Lady. Lancel is very proud of it," he returned in the same whisper.

"Shouldn't you be on the dais with the rest of the small council?" The Grand Maester Pycelle was already there, just like Lord Petyr Baelish. The others should arrive soon.

"I am no longer on the small council, My Lady."

"What happened?"

The knight sighed, "There were changes, after your father was arrested."

Unable to refrain herself, she asked him, "How is he? Where is he? Are they going to kill him?"

Ser Kevan looked at her with an empathic smile, "He's alive, and well. I assure you. He was injured in the recent events, but he's being well taken care of."

"Are they going to kill him?"

He pursed his lips, "It's too soon to say what will happen, My Lady, but no one wants to see him dead. He's a good man. No sane man would want him dead." If no one wanted Ned to die, then she had a chance. "My Lady, if I may give you an advice, trust no one here."

Sansa frowned, asking him, "What do you mean?"

"Trust no one, you hear me? You can only trust yourself in this city, and no one else."

He looked ahead of him once more. "Shouldn't I trust the king?" Sansa asked in another whisper.

"You should trust no one," he repeated.

Did he mean that she couldn't even trust Joffrey? Joffrey was her betrothed, the king, the man she loved. How couldn't she trust him? However, there was a reeking feeling in her that made her frightened of Joffrey. Why did she have this impression? Joffrey is not who he seems to be. For your own sake, I hope you'll realize it before it's too late. No, that couldn't be true. And yet, she kept the impression that she was missing something about Joffrey.

She looked at Ser Kevan. He was Joffrey's granduncle. There was something he told her once. "Of all the children my niece and the king had, Joffrey was always the most difficult, but he seems to behave well with you." She remembered her discussion with Lady Margaery before she left Winterfell. He's always in a bad mood. He was insulting for all his name day. If you want my opinion, Joffrey is a spoiled brat. Was it possible that Lady Lannister told her the truth? Was Joffrey a charming prince with her, but entirely different with everyone else? There had been a time after the Kingsroad when he seemed mad at her, or annoyed. He would barely look at her. However, at least everything got better later, and he apologized to her. If he was different with her, if he was good with her, then there was hope for Ned. "Make sure Joffrey remains someone good, My Lady. As his wife and his queen, that will be your main duty, and maybe the most difficult," Ser Kevan told her that one day. She could make Joffrey better.

"Ser Kevan, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, My Lady."

"Well… back at Winterfell, I spent time with Lady Margaery Lannister, you see."

"You never told me, My Lady."

"She told me… certain things about Joffrey. She told me he wasn't a good person. Is it true?"

Before the knight could answer, the great doors opened to let a long trail of people through it. A herald's voice rang out.

"All hail His Grace, Joffrey of the Houses Baratheon and Lannister, the First of his Name, King of the Andals, the First Men, and the Rhoynar, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. All hail his lady mother, Cersei of House Lannister, Queen Regent, Light of the West, and Protector of the Realm."

Ser Barristan Selmy led the way. Ser Jaime Lannister escorted the Queen behind him, and Ser Arys Oakheart escorted Joffrey behind them. The four other kingsguards, Ser Mandon Moore, Ser Boros Blount, Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Preston Greenfield, closed the march. The seven White Swords were present. Joffrey climbed the steps and sat on the Iron Throne. Queen Cersei sat by his side, while the rest of the small council stood next to them. Sansa looked at Ser Kevan. She regretted he wasn't on the dais like the others. Ned said he was a good man. He kept his face straight, dignified. Sansa wondered how he felt about being left aside, when not long ago he was advising King Robert. She had sympathy for him.

Sansa looked back at Joffrey, the King who had a golden crown on his head, was on the throne. She'd never seen him with a crown before. One day, she would sit by his side. Strangely, the prospect didn't cheer her up like it used to, and yet, he had worn the crown like a true King. His eyes stopped on Sansa for a moment, then he smiled at her. However, there was something in his way to behave that gave her the impression she'd seen this before, which didn't make her feel good. She remembered the Hand's Tourney, when he looked away from her as she tried to catch his eyes. Just like now. She was looking at him, expecting and hoping for something, but he didn't look back at her. Lady Lannister's words came back.

"It is a king's duty to punish the disloyal and reward those who're true," he declared. "Grand Maester Pycelle, I command you to read my decrees."

The Grand Maester had taken a scroll from his heavy robes and begun to read slowly, "King Joffrey of the Houses Baratheon and Lannister, the First of his Name, King of the Andals, the First Men, and the Rhoynar, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and of Cersei of House Lannister, Queen Regent, Light of the West, and Protector of the Realm, and the small council, hereby summon the following people to present themselves and swear fealty to His Grace as soon as possible. Lord Stannis Baratheon, his wife, Lady Selyse Florent, and his daughter, Lady Shireen Baratheon. Lord Renly Baratheon. Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne, his brother, Prince Oberyn Martell and his son, Prince Trystane Martell. Lord Mace Tyrell, his wife, Lady Alerie Tyrell, their son, Ser Loras Tyrell and their daughter, Lady Margaery Tyrell. Lord Tyrion Lannister. Lord Hoster Tully, his brother, Ser Brynden Tully and his son, Ser Edmure Tully. Lady Lysa Arryn and her son, Lord Robin Arryn. Lady Catelyn Stark and her children, Robb, Arya, Brandon and Rickon Stark. Lord Balon Greyjoy, his wife, Lady Alannys Harlaw, their son, Theon Greyjoy, and their daughter, Yara Greyjoy. Lord Alester Florent, his wife, and their children. Lord Leo Lefford and his daughter, Lady Alysanne Lefford. Lord Sebaston Farman. Ser Gregor Clegane. Lord Jason Mallister. Lord Bryce Caron. Lord Tytos Blackwood. Lord Walder Frey and his son, Ser Stevron Frey. Lord Karyl Vance. Lord Jonos Bracken. Lady Sheila Whent. Lord Yohn Royce. If they were to fail to obey this command, they would be adjudged traitors, their lands and titles forfeit to the throne."

Which took a very long time to read all these names. Sansa reflected that it'd take a lot of ravens to carry these commands. The Grand Maester took another scroll and was about to start reading it when Ser Kevan Lannister stepped forward. He stood before the king, and he had done nothing else.

"Ser Kevan, if you have a matter to set before your king, you will have to wait until his decrees are read," Cersei Lannister said.

"I came here to talk to the King, not to his mother," he (Ser Kevan) said. Sansa saw the smile on the Queen's face tense. The knight turned to Joffrey, "Will His Grace let his lady mother decide who he can hear and when?"

"No," Joffrey answered after a moment. "You may speak, Uncle Kevan."

"Thank you, Your Grace. I believe that summoning all these lords is useless."

"They must swear fealty to their King," Cersei pointed out.

"Your Grace, you allowed me to speak, but not your lady mother. A King should maintain obedience among the members of his own family."

Joffrey looked at Cersei, "Mother, you will allow Ser Kevan to speak. You will only express yourself when I give you the right to."

There was something in the Queen's gaze that Sansa didn't like. Ser Kevan continued, "Your Grace, your crowning didn't happen in the best circumstances we could hope for. Summoning all these people to the capital would be a great mistake. Some will need months to arrive. A pledge by raven and an official oath taken during an organized ceremony in a few months would be far more appropriate, and cause fewer trouble."

"I see. However, there are traitors among them."

Whispers traveled the crowd. "Your Grace, they are not traitors. Your decree specifies that they would be branded traitors only if they failed to swear fealty to you. You say so in your own decree."

Joffrey was silent for a moment, "I will consider what you said, Uncle."

"There's something else, Your Grace. I don't believe this is wise to command children like Robin Arryn, Brandon Stark and Arya Stark to take an oath. They are young, no more than ten-years-old. They probably don't even know what a traitor is. Which would be useless to ask them to take an oath. They may not even understand what the oath means."

Joffrey tapped his leg with his hand, "If they can't understand what an oath to me is, then this means they are traitors and I should kill them."

Sansa gasped in horror. Did he just say he would kill Bran and Arya? No, he said that he should kill them. He would be obliged to kill them. He didn't really want to kill them.

"Your Grace, with your respect, this is a foolish."

The Great Hall went silent. Sansa held her breath. Joffrey was glaring at his granduncle, "What did you say?"

"You heard me. Your thinking is foolish. You will unite half the Seven Kingdoms and Queendoms against you with that kind of thinking."

Joffrey looked at his mother, then back to Ser Kevan. "What did you say?!" Joffrey raised his voice as he stood up. There was one time when he was like this. She remembered. Which was on the Kingsroad, when he fought with Arya.

"This is no way to address your king, Ser," Cersei said.

"I am advising the king, and if the only way for him to listen to advice is to talk to him in this way, then I'll do it," Ser Kevan retorted. "And this is not the only stupidity contained in this decree. You threatened your own uncle and your own aunt, the other two people who are more loyal to you than anyone, Your Grace."

"If they come and swear fealty to Joffrey in time, they have nothing to fear."

"And how much time do they have before you decide to strip them from their titles? I suppose you'll make sure a decree deprives them of everything the day before they arrive."

"Joffrey, perhaps we should get to the matter concerning Ser Kevan Lannister immediately," Cersei suggested as she gazed at her son.

"Oh, yes. Do it, Mother," Joffrey sat back into the throne.

Cersei Lannister smiled as she looked down at her uncle, "In these times of treason and turmoil, it is the view of the council that the life and safety of King Joffrey be of paramount importance. Ser Kevan Lannister, you served the Realm long and faithfully, lately as Master of Laws, and before that as advisor for the Lord of Casterly Rock. Every man and woman in the Seven Kingdoms owes you thanks. Now it is time for you to retire."

The knight looked perplexed, "Retire?"

"You allowed Eddard Stark to conspire against me, Uncle. You failed to protect me," Joffrey said.

"It was your duty to uncover such a conspiracy and to warn the king, and you failed," the Queen continued. "You are unfit to be Master of Laws. Still, in his generosity, the king decided to grant you a handsome tract of land north of Lannisport, beside the sea, with gold and men sufficient to build you a stout keep, and servants to see to your every need."

Ser Kevan burst into laugh, though Sansa had the impression he didn't laugh because he found that funny. "And you believe you will be able to buy my loyalty with this, Cersei? These lands belong to House Lannister, to Casterly Rock, and only the Lord of Casterly Rock can grant them. Unless you believe that you are Lady of Casterly Rock, but you're not. I am loyal to House Lannister and to my Lord, and to your father's memory. I was with him in his last hours. He said many things, but there was only one time he talked about you, and I will never forget what he said. Of all the members of my family, Cersei disappoints me the most. She believes she is clever when she is not. And she doesn't know her place."

Sansa could see that the Queen was furious. There was real anger in her eyes this time. Ser Kevan addressed Joffrey, "Your Grace, if I were you, I would remind my lady mother of her place, and quickly. As for me, if you no longer have need of my services, I will go back to my wife and my children. I thank you for your offer, but I must decline it. I wish you good fortunes in the wars to come."

Ser Kevan bowed and left. There were no sounds in the throne room for a long moment, except for the great doors opening and closing as Ser Kevan Lannister walked out. No one dared to speak. Sansa didn't know Ser Kevan very well, however, she felt his departure as if she lost a friend. Cersei told the Grand Maester to resume the reading of Joffrey's decrees.

"In the place of the traitor, Eddard Stark," the old man began. The name caught Sansa's attention. The Grand Maester seemed to have difficulty to talk. His voice was shaking more than usual. "It is the wish of His Grace that Jaime Lannister, knight of the Kingsguard, take up the office of Hand of the King, to speak with his voice, lead his armies against his enemies, and carry out his royal will. So the king has decreed. The small council consents."

Ser Jaime came to stand before Joffrey and received the pin. Sansa was used to seeing Ned with it. It was strange to see the handsome knight take it, though he didn't place it on him. He only removed his helmet, took the pin into his hand, he had taken back his place among his sworn brothers.

"In the place of the traitor, Stannis Baratheon, it is the wish of His Grace that his lady mother, the Queen Regent Cersei Lannister, who has ever been his staunchest support, be seated upon the small council, that she may help him rule wisely and with justice. So the king has decreed. The small council consents."

The lords who were present, murmured for a short time after this decision was revealed.

"In the place of Ser Kevan Lannister, it is the wish of His Grace that his loyal servant, Janos Slynt, Commander of the City Watch of King's Landing, be seated upon the small council as Master of Laws. It is also the wish of His Grace that his loyal servant, Janos Slynt be at once raised to the rank of lord, and granted the ancient seat of Harrenhal, and that his sons and grandsons shall hold this honor after him until the end of time."

The lords muttered more than for Cersei when they heard this. Lord Janos Slynt stood before Joffrey, bowed and he had back to his place at the head of the gold cloaks.

"Such is the will of King Joffrey of the Houses Baratheon and Lannister, the First of his Name, King of the Andals, the First Men, and the Rhoynar, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and of Cersei of House Lannister, Queen Regent, Light of the West, and Protector of the Realm. The council consents," Pycelle concluded.

"If any man in this hall has other matters to set before His Grace, let him speak now or go forth and hold his silence," the herald declared loudly.

It was time. She had come for this. It'd be her only chance. She stepped forward, fearing what could happen next. She was frightened of Janos Slynt, Cersei and Joffrey, too. The words were pounding in her head. Joffrey is not who he seems to be. She had to be courageous for Ned and their families. There was no time to doubt. If she doubted, then everything was lost.

"Your Grace," she said softly.

"The Lady Sansa of House Stark," the herald announced.

"Do you have some business for the king and the council, Sansa?" Cersei asked. Her smile seemed genuine. She no longer looked angry. Sansa took it as a good sign. She went on her knees and looked at Joffrey.

"I do. As it pleases your Grace, I ask mercy for my father, Lord Eddard Stark, who was Hand of the King."

"Treason is a noxious weed. It should be torn out, root…" the Grand Maester began.

"Let her speak. I want to hear what she says." Sansa could barely contain her joy when Joffrey spoke. He wasn't looking away now. All his attention was on her. She had the impression for a time that he didn't really care for what she said, but she tossed the thought aside. He wouldn't have asked her to speak if he didn't care, and she couldn't allow herself to doubt right now.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"Do you deny your father's crime?" Lord Baelish asked her.

She never tasted something so rich and delicious before. This one was nothing in comparison, however she was sure there'd be better vintage in King's Landing. Joffrey just didn't have anything better right now on the road.

She heard strange noises ahead of them. Which sounded like wood.

She remembered hearing a similar sound one day when she watched her brothers fighting with wooden swords. But why would someone fight with wooden swords here? Was that something else? "Don't worry, you're safe with me," Joffrey reassured her once again. Sansa still kept holding the skin of wine with her two hands, following Joffrey. The prince might fear nothing, however, Sansa did.

"I'll get you," Sansa heard someone say this.

They arrived in a clearing where two people were fighting with sticks. One was a boy, and the other one was a familiar tomboy… "Arya!"

Her sister turned to her and received a hit on the arm. "Ow! What are you doing here? Go away."

Sansa could've asked her the same question and given the same order. She recognized the boy she spent all her time with, the butcher's boy.

"Your sister?" Joffrey asked Sansa, the prim, proper lady who nodded in reply, was ashamed. Arya was all dirty. She obviously didn't wash her face for days. Why did Arya have to spoil everything all the time? She always appeared at inopportune moments, and with a butcher's son now at the top of that.

"And who are you, boy?" Joffrey asked him.

"Mycah, My Lord." He didn't even address the prince in the right way. Why did Arya spend time with him? Even more importantly, why was he spending time with Arya? He had no business with a lady.

"He's the butcher's boy," Sansa didn't bother hiding her disdain. He had hit her sister on purpose, so she'd seen no reason to conceal it.

"He's my friend," Arya retorted in the defense of him.

When would she learn her place? Right when everything had been so perfect, her sister had to ruin it.

"A butcher's boy who wants to be a knight, eh?" Joffrey looked at him. "Pick up your sword, butcher's boy. Let's see how good you are." Joffrey unsheathed his sword.

"She asked me to, My Lord. She asked me to," the boy said. Which didn't surprise Sansa. Arya spent most of her time with him.

"I'm your prince, not your lord, and I said pick up your sword."

"It's not a sword, my prince. It's only a stick."

"And you're not a knight. Only a butcher's boy. That was my Lady's sister you were hitting, do you know that?"

"Stop it!" Arya yelled.

"Arya, stay out of this," Sansa ordered. Joffrey was just defending her. Arya wasn't allowed to complain, and she was in no place to do so.

"I won't hurt him much."

Joffrey started to make a cut on the boy's cheek. Which wasn't a deep cut, although Sansa didn't like to see it. Then everything went wild in a second. Arya hit the prince with her stick and the butcher's boy ran away.

"Filthy little bitch!" Joffrey swung his sword all around.

"No, no, stop it, stop it, both of you. You're spoiling it. You're spoiling everything!" Sansa yelled, forgetting her prim, proper, princess-like, ladylike manners. Couldn't they stop? Which wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Arya had fallen on the ground, and the prince yelled at her. A grey fur came out of nowhere and had bitten the prince's hand. He started to scream.

"Arya!" Sansa screamed at her sister. She was afraid for her. What if the beast attacked her after?

"Nymeria!" As Arya yelled, too, Sansa realized that the animal was her sister's direwolf. She didn't understand. Lady would never do this.

Arya stood up and pointed the sword at the prince who begged.

"No. No, please no."

"Arya, leave him alone," Sansa ordered and begged at the same time.

After a moment, her sister walked away and had thrown the sword in the river. She and Nymeria ran away. Sansa looked at the prince who held his right hand and blood came out of it. Which was everywhere, red like his doublet.

Sansa approached and knelt beside him.

"My prince, my poor prince, look what they did to you. Stay here, I'll go back to the inn and bring help."

However, he jerked away when she tried to touch his forehead. "Then go! Don't touch me!"

Sansa ran to the inn and told the first people she met that Joffrey was hurt. They came back to take him and Sansa took refuge in her room. That wasn't supposed to have gone this way. Arya shouldn't have hit him. She shouldn't have been there. What was she doing there with that boy again? Weren't they supposed to look for rubies in the river? They shouldn't have been fighting with wooden sticks, not there. Ned came to see if she was well and she told him everything that happened. He had a very different grim expression from the one she was used to.

Queen Cersei came to see her sometime later. Her face was severe.

"Hello, Sansa."

"Your Grace." Sansa stood up and properly curtsied like a proper lady, remembering her proper manners at the last moment. "How is Prince Joffrey?"

"He's with the maester right now. The injury is grave, he may have marks for the rest of his life."

"I'm sorry, I never wanted that. We were just walking…"

"You were present, Sansa. Can you tell me what happened? Is it true a direwolf attacked Joffrey?"

"Yes… Your Grace. It was my sister's direwolf. She bit his hand. I'm sorry, I tried to tell her to stop, but there was nothing I could do. She wouldn't listen. I swear I never wanted..."

Queen Cersei raised her hand assuringly, "That's alright. I believe you. Sometimes, we see people we love suffer and there's nothing we can do. That was really your sister's direwolf who did this?"

"Yes, Your Grace," she replied weakly.

"And your sister? She was with someone else, a butcher's boy?"

"Yes, he hit her with a stick when we arrived, Your Grace."

Queen Cersei nodded slowly, "I'm sorry for what you had to witness today. Sometimes, we must look at things we would dislike to see otherwise. Which is part of the queen's duties. I'm sorry for that. Excuse me, but I must go back to my son."

"Your Grace, may I see the prince? I want to apologize to him."

Queen Cersei had started to walk away, but she turned to look at Sansa, "I'll relay your apologies to him, and I'll ask him to see you once he's better. For the time being, do not leave this room."

Queen Cersei left and Sansa found herself all alone for a very long time. She had a quick supper which was brought to her. One of Ned's men told her that they were looking for Arya and Nymeria, the direwolf that vanished. Sansa didn't understand what just happened. She missed Lady. She wished she could have her by her side to reassure her. Sansa always felt better when her direwolf was there. She felt a special link to her, like a connection. Lady always seemed to know and understand what she felt, even more than Jeyne.

Sansa went to sleep later, however, she was woken up by a man who had worn the white armor, told her that Queen Cersei wanted to see her. She recognized him to be Ser Boros Blount, one of the kingsguards. She was frightened of the man. He didn't look kind, however, Sansa followed him. If Queen Cersei summoned her, she had to come. They stopped in a corridor before the dining room of the inn, and Sansa heard yelling on the other side. She heard King Robert's booming tone of voice, Arya, and even Joffrey yell. Prince Joffrey hadn't wanted to see her again of the day. She wondered how he was. Did he lose his hand? She couldn't support the prospect of it. She was frightened of King Robert, Sandor the Hound, Ser Ilyn Payne, everyone else, including Prince Joffrey and even Ned. The way he'd taken her anger out on her as blood spurted from his hand… which was nothing like the other times they've spoken, in feasts and as they walked together. The day had looked so beautiful. Why did it have to turn that way?

Sansa heard Queen Cersei call for her. Ser Boros led her until she stood before King Robert. Queen Cersei was standing next to him with Joffrey, the prince who had thick bandages around his arm. She wanted to run to him and ask him if everything was alright, however, she was frightened to do so. He glared at her differently. He looked… angry? Was he mad at her? And Queen Cersei? And King Robert? Ned and Arya were also there.

King Robert looked at her. He pointed a place right before him. She advanced to stand before him. "Now, child, tell me what happened. Tell it all and tell it true. It's a great crime to lie to a king."

First, Sansa looked at Ned, next, Arya, then Queen Cersei and lastly, her prince, Joffrey. What was she supposed to say? She didn't want to speak against Arya, however, she couldn't speak against the prince, either. Filthy little bitch! Prince Joffrey couldn't have said that. Surely, she misheard. If she misheard, then everything that happened… Arya is your only sister, Sansa. You won't get another one. If you lose her, you are unlikely to ever get her back. However, could she lose Joffrey? Everything was blurred in her head. A voice was telling her something in her head, which was something she didn't want to hear, however, she kept hearing it all the same.

She could just sputter in the end. "I don't know. I don't remember. Everything happened so fast." It was true. She didn't remember exactly what happened. "I didn't see."

"Liar! Liar! Liar! Liar!"

Arya had begun to hit her and Sansa struggled to get her (Arya) off her (Sansa).

"Hey, stop it! That's enough of that!" Ned had broken them apart.

"She's as wild as that animal of hers. I want her punished," Queen Cersei declared.

"What would you have me do, whip her through the streets?" King Robert sighed. "Damn it, children fight. It's over."

"Joffrey will bear these scars for the rest of his life." Sansa looked again at the bandages. Which looked painful.

"You let that little girl disarm you?" King Robert was talking to his son. He turned to her father. "Ned, see to it that your daughter is disciplined. I'll do the same with my son."

Eddard's voice sounded scornful, "Gladly, Your Grace."

"And what of the direwolf? What of the beast that savaged your son?" Queen Cersei asked.

King Robert had risen. Sansa was frightened of him. "I'd forgot the damned wolf."

"We found no trace of the dire-wolf, Your Grace," a guard admitted.

"No? So be it."

Cersei piped up, "We have another wolf." King Robert turned to look at the queen. He resumed to walk forward. "As you will."

"You can't mean it," Ned said.

"A direwolf's wild. Buy her a pet dog instead, she'll be happier for it."

Another dire-wolf? No, that couldn't be. Sansa's world crumbled. No, he couldn't mean it. "He doesn't mean Lady, does he?" Ned's expression… "No, no, not Lady! Lady didn't bite anyone! She's good!"

"Lady wasn't there! You leave her alone!" Sansa heard Arya yell in agreement with her.

Sansa turned to Ned, "Stop them. Don't let them do it," she begged him and Queen Cersei, "Please, it wasn't Lady."

"Is this your command, Your Grace?"

King Robert walked away when Ned asked him this. No, that couldn't be. They couldn't kill Lady. Lady would never hurt anyone on purpose. Sansa felt tears all over her face. They couldn't do that. She barely understood anything to what was said afterwards, however, she heard that Ned would be the one to kill Lady. She felt betrayed. Someone brought her back to her room. She shared it with Arya, however, she didn't notice the presence of her sister. Lady. No, not Lady. She kept crying, and all the while, the day went all back to her. She saw it all over again. She couldn't remember the accident, however, she remembered how Joffrey glared at her afterwards. A voice said words she didn't want to hear at Winterfell.

Joffrey is not who he seems to be. For your own sake, I hope you'll realize it before it's too late.

Sansa found Arya on the banks of the Trident, trying to hold Nymeria still while she brushed dried mud from her fur. The direwolf was not enjoying the process. Arya was wearing the exact same dirty dress she had worn yesterday and the day before. Lady was still beside Sansa, the prim, proper lady who held her leash. Septa Mordane told Sansa to find Arya. They were to ride with Queen Cersei and Princess Myrcella today in the royal wheelhouse.

"Arya, you better put something pretty today. We are to travel with the Queen and Princess Myrcella," Sansa kindly tried to explain.

"You know I'm never another perfect lady material," Arya kept to brush her own direwolf. "Mycah and I are going upstream and look for rubies at the ford."

"Rubies? What rubies?"

Arya had glared at her as if she was stupid, "Rhaegar's rubies. Which is where King Robert killed him and won the crown."

Sansa couldn't believe her ears. "You can't do that, Arya. Not today. The princess is expecting us. We were both invited by the queen."

"The wheelhouse doesn't have windows, you're unable see a thing." Sansa had to try to be reasonable. Arya is your only sister, Sansa. You won't get another one. "Arya, we must be present. We cannot refuse the Queen. We have to make a good impression." She didn't want Queen Cersei to have a bad opinion of Arya.

"The prince's going to be offended because your sister's muddy, right? Will he call off the betrothal? Good riddance."

Sansa gasped with horror in her eyes. "How can you say that?" How could Arya say it would be a good thing if her betrothal with Joffrey was called off?

"I like neither him nor the Queen. And Myrcella's a little baby. They won't let me to bring Nymeria."

"Princess Myrcella is afraid of them, you know that."

"Which is what I said. She's a little baby. Hold on!" Arya yelled to her direwolf.

There was nothing Sansa could do. Arya wouldn't come. "I will have to go by by myself then. Which will be ever so much nicer that way. Lady and I will eat all the lemon cakes and just have the best time without you."

"Well good for you, but none of them will allow you to bring Lady, either." Nymeria ran away at this moment. Arya threw the brush on the ground. "Bad wolf!"

Sansa couldn't help but to smile a little. She turned away and walked off. Still, her smile was a bitter one. She made efforts to make things better between her and Arya, however, her sister wouldn't do anything. She was impossible, a desperate case. Sansa walked back to the column. They were about to leave after a night of rest. She left Lady in the care of her friend, Jeyne and went to the royal wheelhouse, after promising her (Jeyne) she'd tell her everything about her day later.

Queen Cersei Lannister welcomed her before the entrance of the wheelhouse and Sansa properly curtseyed like Septa Mordane taught her. Inside, she was welcomed quite warmly by the Princess who almost jumped at her, threw her arms around her neck. Queen Cersei had to remind her daughter to behave like a prim, proper princess. Myrcella apologized to Sansa, the prim, proper lady who accepted them graciously, without any offense.

"When will Sansa marry Joffrey?" the Princess asked, all of a sudden, after an hour or two. Sansa didn't see the time pass. She felt her cheeks redden.

"Not before some time, I'm afraid. Sansa must bleed first which might not happen before another year," Queen Cersei explained to her daughter. Sansa hoped it wouldn't be long. She wanted to marry Joffrey, however, she'd still have to be patient. A prim, proper lady had to be patient.

"You'll have an ivory dress for the wedding, you know," Princess Myrcella told Sansa. "And a necklace, surely. Joffrey will certainly give you one."

"Of course, he will. Joffrey will never neglect his wife," Queen Cersei said.

"I know he will never, Your Grace. It will be a great honor for me to be his queen. I will do everything to be a worthy wife," Sansa said.

"I'm sure you will."

"Maybe Joff could give Sansa a necklace like my own," Myrcella suggested.

"Which one?"

"The one like a flower."

Princess Myrcella left her seat and went to a box in a corner. She opened it and produced a gorgeous necklace in the shape of a blue rose, like the winter roses they had in the glass garden of Winterfell. "Could you please try it, Sansa? I'd like to see how you look with it."

Sansa was in no place to refuse, and truth be told, she didn't want to refuse. The princess allowed her to wear one of her jewels. Myrcella placed the necklace around her neck before she sealed it behind. She seemed to struggle for a moment, but Sansa finally heard a clasp. When she looked down, she realized that the rose was red and not blue. Which was perfect on her blue silk dress, along with her auburn hair. She realized that the chain was made of gold. She never wore something so beautiful in Winterfell. They were never given any jewel.

"You're beautiful with it," Princess Myrcella exclaimed enthusiastically. "Yes. It's very pretty," Sansa said. She turned the pendant between her hands and realized that the other side was blue, like she thought it was before. Which was indeed a very special necklace.

"Aunt Margaery gave it to me for Joff's name day. She has one identical. This one is only a copy, she has the original. She said it belonged to my grandmother. Uncle Tyrion gave it to her the day they were wed."

Somehow, knowing that this necklace was the copy of one of Lady Margaery's many jewels made Sansa see it less gorgeous. She hadn't entirely forgotten the prim, proper lady's words concerning Joffrey. That, and the sudden realization that the queen looked with disapproval towards her.

"Thank you, Princess, but I don't think I should wear the jewels of a princess of the Realm," Sansa said, pulling off the chain and giving it back to the daughter of the queen very gently.

"Sansa is right. She is far wiser than people give it to her," Queen Cersei agreed. Sansa blushed at the compliment.

"When you'll marry Joffrey, we'll be sisters in laws. Then you can borrow all the jewels you want from me," Myrcella smiled, placing back the jewel among her things.

"Joffrey will offer you something very pretty for your wedding. Don't worry, Sansa," Queen Cersei assured. Her disapproving look had vanished by leaving place to a radiant face.

"Thank you, Your Grace," Sansa said, appreciating Cersei properly.

"Why didn't we wait for Uncle Tyrion and Aunt Margaery before we left?" Princess Myrcella asked.

"We couldn't wait. The king has important matters to attend to in King's Landing," answered Queen Cersei.

"I would like them to be with us. Margaery is always very kind to me and Tommen. What do you think of her, Sansa?"

She (Sansa) replied very carefully, remembering her prim, proper courtesies, "Lady Margaery has been very gentle with me at Winterfell."

"Has she?" Queen Cersei asked her.

"Yes, she has. She told me a lot about the Westerlands and the Reach, and about her family, too." She also warned Sansa to not ruin her sibling relationship with her sister, to no avail. Arya still was never another prim, proper lady material.

"Do you know I could marry Ser Loras soon?"

Queen Cersei coughed. She had merely drunken some wine from her cup and swallowed it the wrong way. "What did you say?" she asked Princess Cersei, between two coughs.

"People say I could be wed to her brother."

Sansa would almost have been jealous of Myrcella if she hadn't been betrothed to Joffrey, however, right now she was merely happy for the princess. Ser Loras Tyrell was a knight who's reputed to be very handsome. The princess deserved to marry him.

"Who says that?" Queen Cersei wondered.

"A girl with her. One of her handmaidens. I heard her talk about it. Do you think I could, Mother?"

"We'll discuss about it later. We mustn't bore our guest."

Truth be told, Sansa would have liked to talk more about it, however, if Queen Cersei said otherwise, she wouldn't press the subject. They kept talking about many things. Princess Myrcella did most of the talking and Sansa did her best to follow. They stopped around midday for a halt. A knight wearing crimson came to tell the queen that they would stop here for the rest of the day. King Robert was gone with Ned the Hand to hunt aurochs.

Sansa left the wheelhouse after she gratefully thanked Princess Myrcella proper, she expressed how much she enjoyed her time with her. Everything would have been perfect if Prince Joffrey had been there. As she started to walk to her Ned's retinue to find Lady, Queen Cersei called her.

"Sansa, little dove, I need to stretch my legs. Would you care to accompany me?"

She (Sansa) couldn't refuse. In one single day, she had an entire morning with Princess Myrcella and Queen Cersei, and now a walk alone with Queen Cersei. She followed Queen Cersei Lannister of the Seven Kingdoms, docile.

"I hope you enjoy your time South so far," Queen Cersei said.

"Awfully much, Your Grace."

"Do you miss your home?"

"I knew I would have to leave it one day."

"So did I, when I left Casterly Rock. You remind me of myself sometimes, when I was your age."

"Really?"

"Yes," Queen Cersei kindly smiled at her. "I was about your age when I came to the Southern capital for the first time. For a little girl, it is always a thrilling experience. Every road leads to King's Landing, but few people get to see it in their life, whereas, fewer gets to live in the Southern Red Keep. We are the few privileged by this. I hope you will love your time there."

"I will, Your Grace."

"You are very lucky, Sansa. Never forget it. There are many girls in the Seven Kingdoms and the Queendoms who would like to be in your place."

"I know." Who wouldn't want to marry Joffrey?

"What do you think of Lady Margaery Lannister?" That wasn't a question she expected. "She's been very gentle with me." "I'm sure, but I'm afraid you weren't fully honest with me."

"Your Grace?"

"I am the Queen, Sansa. You would be unable to remain Queen if you are unable see when people are hiding something from you. I saw the look on your face when Myrcella told you, you wore a necklace similar to one that my sister-in-law had. You weren't pleased by it." Sansa didn't think Queen Cersei would have noticed it. "I understand you didn't want to talk about it in the presence of my daughter, but there's no reason you shouldn't talk about it to me now. You're to be my daughter-in-law one day. I do not want to see you unhappy. Has Lady Margaery done something to upset you?"

Sansa was at a loss of words. She felt very touched by the queen's concern, but could she repeat the things Margaery told her. This discussion had been private, but the queen was asking.

"You don't have to hide anything from me, darling. I'm here for you." Sansa didn't know what to say. Very carefully, she tried to say it the best way she could. "She talked to me about Prince Joffrey."

"What did she say?"

Sansa was afraid. How could she say the things that the Lady of Casterly Rock told her? What she said about Joffrey… "She asked me if I knew him well. She told me of the day she and your son met. She asked me if I loved him."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes, I do. With all my heart." She did. She loved Joffrey the moment she set eyes on him.

"What did she say exactly about my son?"

"I… I do not have the courage to say, Your Grace."

"Why is that?"

"Some… Some of the things she said… They were unpleasant."

"In what way?" Sansa hesitated. How could she present it the best possible way? "Sansa, don't be frightened. This is no crime to hear unpleasant things about your betrothed. You can tell me anything. I'm not going to berate you only for hearing a few words."

Sansa took a breath and spoke. "She said the prince… was spoiled. She said that she didn't like him. She said that I didn't know him well enough and that… that I shouldn't love him. I didn't agree with her," Sansa added quickly. "I told her that she was wrong, however, she wouldn't listen."

Queen Cersei was looking at her with compassion in her eyes. "I'm sorry you had to go through this. It must have been hard for you to hear these things about the man you will marry."

"Yes, however, I know she was wrong."

"In such cases, all we can do is walk away from these people who can't hurt us with their words when we can't hear them." Sansa understood the logic of this. "You must know that Margaery looks very kind at first sight, but it's mostly an act. She married my brother because he was rich. Her family prepared her all her life to marry the most powerful and richest man they could find. My little brother craves for love and Margaery makes him believe she loves him, so he eats in her hand and does everything she wants. If there had been someone richer than my brother who was available, she would have married him instead."

Sansa could just agree with Queen Cersei. She remembered how Lord Tyrion was at Winterfell. How could someone love him? Except Arya, maybe, but that didn't count. And there was also the way Lady Margaery laughed at everything he said, no matter what it was, and how she kissed him publicly. Sansa's lady mother told her while they were still at Winterfell that a lady should never let her arms bare, and yet Lady Margaery was the only one to do so. Even her handmaidens had their arms covered with sleeves. Still, a doubt lingered in Sansa's mind. She remembered how the Lady of Casterly Rock looked when she told her about the letter Lord Tyrion sent to her.

"Be careful with Margaery. She is ambitious, and ambitious women are the worst of all. Don't let her reach you and keep her as far from you and Joffrey as you can."

Sansa would follow Queen Cersei's advice. Lady Margaery Lannister wanted to marry Joffrey once. She said so herself. Sansa would have to protect Joffrey from her. There was always a woman in stories who wanted to steal the prince or the knight away from his betrothed or his wife. She was always wicked. Margaery was wicked. She tried to turn her against Joffrey, but she also advised her to make things better between her and Arya. Was Sansa to throw away that advice as well? "I'm sorry I listened to that, Your Grace," Sansa said. "I shouldn't have. I knew she was lying when she said all those things about Joffrey."

"Don't worry, Sansa. I know she was dishonest, and I know you didn't believe it. I made mistakes myself in my life. I listened to the wrong people more than once. Time will show who you must listen to. Know that I will always be there for you."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"Now, go back to your father's men. I wouldn't want to steal you more than necessary before you're even married to my son."

Sansa curtsied/curtseyed properly and left, making sure to walk with dignity like Septa Mordane taught her. She had no patience to listen to Lady Margaery's warnings about Joffrey. She should have seen who she was. She was lucky that Queen Cersei told her. She wouldn't repeat the same mistake twice.

She dined with Jeyne and told her everything about her time with the Queen and Myrcella. She didn't talk about her personal discussion with the Queen that took place afterwards though. Which would be inappropriate. Later, she walked Lady around the inn they stopped nearby. Lady was sweet, kind and always calm. She was all the opposite of Arya's direwolf, Nymeria, just like Sansa was all the opposite of Arya.

As she walked around, holding Lady's leash, she marveled at how the trees were rich and green here. The Riverlands were Catelyn's home, so she had talked to Sansa about them a few times, but she'd never seen them with her own eyes. She also marveled before the knights. There were very few in the North, and they seldom saw them when they came to Winterfell and stayed for a day before leaving to never return. Sansa had seen Lord Yohn Royce when he came to Winterfell with his son, Waymar, a few months ago. Ser Waymar had been very kind to her, just like his father. That was the last time knights came by Winterfell before King Robert's retinue came to Winterfell. Ned's men, with their leather jackets, looked like peasants next to the Lannisters knights and the Kingsguards in their red, gold armor.

Sansa came back to the inn. As she walked toward the carts and horses of Ned's men, she heard giggles close to the royal wheelhouse. The other three girls who arranged sophisticated braids in their hair, the ones Sansa would be unable to reproduce, smiled at her. Then she bumped into someone she hadn't seen before her.

"Pardon me, ser." The man who stood before her, said nothing. He had clear brown eyes who looked at her with a rigid expression. He was bald and wore only leather. Sansa was unsure if he was a knight. Before she could do anything, a hand grasped her shoulder.

"Do I frighten you so much, girl?"

He did, and had since she had first laid eyes on the ruin that fire had made of his face, though it seemed to her now that he was not half so terrible as the other. Sandor Clegane, called the Hound, Joffrey's sworn sword, was the one who had taken hold of her arm.

"Or is it him there making you shake? He frightens me, too. Look at that face."

Sansa did as the Hound told her. She understood how he could even be afraid of this man.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, ser."

The bald man who said nothing, didn't say a word to her apology and left, looking at her in a fearful way.

"Why won't he speak to me?" she asked.

"He hasn't been very talkative these last twenty years. Since the Mad King had his tongue ripped out with hot pincers," Sandor the Hound offered as an explanation, as if it was nothing unusual.

"He speaks damn well with his sword though."

Sansa's heart bumped in her chest as she heard the voice behind her. Which was someone she'd never be afraid of. Prince Joffrey stood before her, all in red, his blond hair shining in the sunlight, his green eyes clear like the forest surrounding them.

"Ser Ilyn Payne, the King's Justice. The royal executioner," Joffrey explained.

Now Sansa understood why she was so afraid of the man. Ned once told her that the man who says the sentence, should swing the sword, however, Sansa couldn't imagine Joffrey killing somebody. She supposed it was normal, then someone else had to carry out the death sentences when one was pronounced. These thoughts made her smile leave her face.

"What is it, sweet lady?" He had taken her chin in his hand and looked over her. "Does the Hound frighten you?" Yes, he does. "Away with you, dog. You're scaring my lady."

Sandor the Hound left. Sansa had no need to tell Joffrey what made her afraid. He saw it just by looking at her and came to her rescue. He returned his attention to her. They were alone with Lady.

"I don't like to see you upset. The sun is finally shining. Come walk with me."

The day couldn't have been better. First, a morning with Queen Cersei and Princess Myrcella, then, a walk alone with Queen Cersei, now another one with her betrothed, Prince Joffrey. Sansa knelt and told Lady to wait here. Then she walked with Joffrey.

The weather was perfect. Joffrey was right, the sun was shining, which made him shine even more. Sansa was sure it made her own hair shine as well. She remembered dreaming of someone who said her hair was beautiful in sunsets. They walked along the Trident, a clear stream with silver waves. The prince offered her wine a few times. At one time, Sansa opposed.

"I probably shouldn't have anymore. Father only lets us have one cup at feasts."

"My princess can drink as much as she wants," Joffrey told her.

Sansa accepted the skin he offered, however, she just drank a little. She knew what could happen when you drank too much. She remembered berating her half-brother once because he got drunk during a feast. She'd need to get used to the taste of wine. This one was a little better than those they se

One way or another, there're no perfect upbringings, not the other way around because nobody's raised perfectly.

One way or another, there're no perfect sisters, not the other way around.

One way or another, there're no perfect big sisters, not the other way around.

One way or another, there're no perfect little sisters, not the other way around.

"No. I only heard rumors about him, and let's say they weren't pleasant. Our families discussed about the betrothal, we made plans, chose a date, travelled to Casterly Rock. I arrived there, and next week I was married."

Which seemed somewhat rude to Sansa, to marry a man you never saw before, especially when it was the Imp. And yet, Lady Margaery talked about it so casually that you could believe she talked about the weather. Which didn't seem to bother her. Sansa felt a great respect for her all of a sudden. She had done her duty, just like Catelyn and Septa Mordane told her so often that she was to marry the man she was destined to.

"My only interaction with my future husband before this was a letter," Lady Margaery added.

"A letter?"

"Yes, Tyrion wrote me a letter before I came to Casterly Rock."

Which surprised Sansa. She didn't expect that the Imp could be romantic. "What was in that letter?" Which surprised Margaery, the Lady who looked at her. Sansa realized that she made a mistake. "I'm sorry, My Lady, it doesn't concern me."

She expected to receive a lesson, after asking something so impertinent to one of the greatest ladies of the Realm, however, the lady in question only laughed. "That's alright, but you called me My Lady again." Of all things, she didn't expect to be berated about that. "I will answer your question. The letter told me that if I wanted, I could call off the betrothal."

"What?"

"Yes. Tyrion told me that if it wasn't my wish to marry him, I only had to say the word and he would stop all discussions between our families. He gave me the choice to marry him or not."

"And… you said yes?"

"If it wasn't the case, do you think I would be here today?"

"Why didn't you refuse?"

Lady Lannister looked ahead of her, to a bench in front of them. "He was… kind in the way he gave me that choice. He told me who he was, everything bad and good about him. He hid nothing. He wanted me to be sure that I wanted to marry him. I didn't expect that, truth be told. According to rumors, Tyrion Lannister was a monster at worst, an ugly man at best, but that's not what I had the impression to see through his writing. I was curious, and I knew I would have to marry one day. So I said yes. We rode for Casterly Rock, I met him, and during the week before the wedding I tried to know him better. There was nothing about him that told me he was the monster that rumors depicted. Then we were married and it was done. Since that day, I have never regretted my decision, not a single moment."

She had a timid smile on her lips and looked far away, as if she was in a distant land. Sansa didn't exactly know what to say, so she just stayed there and did nothing while the Lady of Casterly Rock looked far away. After some time, she turned to Sansa.

"Can you tell me about Joffrey?" Sansa was glad that she was asked about it. Which was her favorite subject of conversation lately. "He's so handsome, gallant and gentle with me. He compliments me all the time. I couldn't dream of a better husband."

Which surprised Lady Lannister, "That is quite different from the nephew I know."

"What do you mean?" Sansa asked her.

"The first time I met Joffrey in person, he said that Tyrion probably chained me at the altar to say my wedding vows. He told that while a dozen other people were present, including the queen, his brother, his sister and his several cousins."

"He may not have felt well at this moment. Perhaps he was in a bad mood," Sansa supposed.

"In this case, he's always in a bad mood. He was insulting for all his name day. If you want my opinion, Joffrey is a spoiled brat." He (Joffrey) wasn't like that. Lady Margaery misjudged him. "Do you know who are his best friends? What he does in his spare time? What he likes? Who are the people in his family he loves and those he cannot suffer?"

Sansa was at a loss of words. She couldn't find an answer. Which was unfair. She would marry Joffrey one day. Margaery wasn't allowed to say that she knew nothing about him. She knew things about him, many things, however, right now she just couldn't find out something to say.

"I know enough about him," Sansa sputtered, however, she tried to remain as ladylike as possible.

The Lady of Casterly Rock smiled at her. Which was the same kind of smile that Lord Tyrion gave her an hour ago. A sad smile, as if she pitied her. She didn't have to pity Sansa. There was nothing to pity her about.

"Do you love Joffrey?" Again, she was asked the question. Did all the Lannisters decide to ask her the same thing?

"Yes, I do love him."

"Do you think I loved Tyrion when I married him?" Sansa didn't know what to answer to that. Could she say no? "You can say no, if you want. If I were in your stead, I know that's the answer I'd think about, even if I didn't dare to voice it."

Sansa didn't dare to say it aloud. How could she answer no? "I'm sure Lord Tyrion is a good man," she said instead.

"He is, but I wasn't in love with him when we met. I barely knew him. I only had a letter from him before I came to the Rock, and after that, we barely had time to know each other in the week before the wedding. There were so many preparations. We didn't have time to know each other. We got married, like two strangers. At the beginning of our marriage, there was nothing between us. I thought he was decent, but I couldn't be certain. I didn't know enough about him. We learned to know each other during our marriage. At first, we were barely acquaintances. Then we became allies, then friends, and one day, I realized that I loved him. I didn't fall in love with him all of a sudden. Love hit neither me nor him. We built it, through the time we spent together, getting to know each other, learning to appreciate the qualities of the other, to accept his flaws and to live together. I needed six months before I could tell that I loved him. But when I told him, I was sure to love him, because I knew him at the time. I knew the man I loved."

Sansa was hypnotized by Margaery's tale. Which didn't sound like any tale she ever heard about nor was it like the stories she read, and yet, it had its own romantic side, to believe that a marriage without love could blossom with time.

"I was lucky. Tyrion could've been a monster. I didn't have time to know him enough before our marriage. I had a great chance to marry him. What if he had really been the monster some people said he was? The thing is, I didn't love Tyrion at the beginning because I couldn't love him. I didn't know who he was. If I had fallen in love with him the first time we set eyes on each other, I would have loved who I thought he was, and our beliefs are quite often far from the truth. I would have been disappointed in the end. I didn't have the chance to know my husband before my marriage, but at least you have that chance. You have a few years before you marry. Use them wisely. Learn who is Joffrey, what he likes, what he does, how he behaves. This way you'll get to know him better what to expect from a marriage with him. If you give your heart to him immediately, you may regret it all your life and condemn yourself to suffer in the future. Please don't give your heart to Joffrey yet. He doesn't deserve it."

Sansa got mad at that. He (Joffrey) was a prince, the heir to the Iron Throne. He'd be king one day, and she'd be his queen. He was going to be the greatest king there ever was, and she'd sit by his side and bear him princes and princesses who'd be kings and queens after him. Even Margaery Lannister envied her. She confessed that she wanted to be queen. Sansa would be the queen one day. Margaery would be nothing next to her when that day came. Sansa stood from the bench and took a proud attitude of the prim, proper lady she was. "I will love Joffrey to the end of my life. He is kind, courageous, strong, and no man in the world will ever make me happier than him. I will be a good wife to him, and I will remain loyal to him forever. Now, if you'll pardon me, Lady Lannister, I must make my farewells to my siblings. I won't see them before long and it'd be inappropriate to leave them without a last word."

Sansa turned on her heels and walked away. Which was a good thing finally that Lady Lannister wouldn't follow them to King's Landing. She wouldn't talk to her again, except if circumstances forced her to. Her world wouldn't be destroyed by this woman's words.

"Joffrey is not who he seems to be. For your own sake, I hope you'll realize it before it's too late." However, Sansa didn't listen to these words. She heard them, however, she didn't listen to them. She wouldn't listen to people's warnings about Joffrey. Her song was about to begin, and not even Margaery Lannister is allowed ruin it. She wouldn't allow anyone else to ruin it, either. No one's allowed to separate her from Prince Joffrey.

However, she will get disillusioned and badly hurt very quickly if she kept up with this attitude.

"When will we leave?" Sansa asked.

"In a few hours. You'll make sure that all your things are packed," Ned answered.

"Mine are ready. Septa Mordane told me everything was perfect."

"Good. Don't forget to say goodbye to your mother and to Bran before we leave."

"Is Bran going to be all right?"

"Luwin thinks so."

Which was a relief for Sansa. They sat at the high table in the Great Hall of Winterfell, she, her father, Robb and Rickon. Arya wasn't up yet and their lady mother was still at Bran's side. Jeyne sat next to Sansa. She was glad Bran would live. It had been horrible for everyone when they learned that he fell. He should never have climbed so high. Catelyn always told him, but he said he'd never fall. At least, now they knew he was no longer in danger. Sansa was so afraid that it'd spoil everything.

Bran was supposed to follow them to King's Landing. He'd never follow them now. Sansa would've liked it if Bran came with them. Instead, there'd be just Arya. Sansa was afraid of the impression her sister would make in the southern capital. She couldn't allow Arya to ruin her betrothal with Joffrey. At the same time, Sansa didn't want to ruin her relationship with her only one sole sister, either. She tried for the past week to make things better between them.

"Is it true that Lady Margaery is staying at Winterfell?" Sansa asked.

"Aye. Lord Tyrion is going with Jon to the Wall to visit it, so Lady Lannister will remain here in the meantime. You'll make sure she is honored as a guest, Robb," Ned stated.

"Aye, Father. Still, this means a few more weeks with Lannisters here. I don't feel comfortable around them," Robb stated.

"I'm sorry about that, but it's not as if we could throw them outside. Anyway, I think your mother will be glad to have her close."

"Of course."

Which was true. Catelyn and Lady Margaery got along quite well. She went to see Bran and their mother every day since the tragedy had taken place. Sometimes, Sansa went with her. She regretted that the Lady of Casterly Rock wouldn't come with them to King's Landing, but on the other hand, she'd keep her mother company while Robb ruled Winterfell. Sansa would still have Princess Myrcella and the queen to spend time with. And of course, there was Joffrey.

"Do you think I should find her some better place, Father?" Robb asked.

"I think her apartments right now are quite enough," replied the Lord of Winterfell.

"Well, I mean, almost everyone will be gone. I can give her some more place." "If you think this is appropriate, then do it. You'll be the Lord of Winterfell while I'm away. You'll have to make your own decisions. Speak with Lady Lannister to see if she needs something."

"Aye, I'll do it."

Sansa noticed some red on Robb's cheeks. She had noticed it once before, when he spoke with Lady Margaery. Sansa thought Robb and the Lady of Casterly Rock were about the same height and the same age strangely when she saw them talking together. Arya walked in at this moment, her hair all tousled like it always was. Jeyne made sounds of a horse galloping with her tongue. Sansa looked at her friend to silence her. She found out that Arya didn't maintain her appearance well enough, too and that her stitches were those of a blacksmith, but this was no reason to laugh out loud. Which wasn't the right behavior to have, but it wasn't kind for Arya. Lady Margaery didn't sew better at the same age.

Arya had taken place on Sansa's right, whereas, Jeyne was at her left. Arya immediately begun to pick in every plate with her hands, no matter what it was. "Arya, you should use your fork and your spoon," Sansa told her. "But it's breakfast." She seized a long fish and started to eat it from one end to the other, juice running on her fingers. Sansa looked at Ned and Robb for help, but neither of them were about to do anything. They seemed to enjoy it. What would Sansa do in King's Landing? She'd have to make sure that Arya sat far away from her at the feasts, especially when she'd be together with Joffrey.

"It is true that the Imp is going to the Wall with Jon?" Arya asked.

"Aye. Why, I don't know, but I suppose it can do some good to the Night's Watch to have a southern lord visit them," Ned thought aloud.

"Why is Jon going to the Wall? Can't he come with us?" "I'm afraid he can't. The capital is no place for Jon."

"Why?" Ned was silent for a moment, then he spoke very carefully. "It's time for Jon to make a life for himself. He's almost a man which is a great honor to serve in the Night's Watch. The Starks have manned the Wall for thousands of years. Jon may not have your name, but he has your blood. He'll make our family proud at the Wall."

"Lord Tyrion said he wouldn't mind if Jon was to go in the Westerlands."

"He told you that?" Ned had a curious expression on his face.

"Aye. He said it wouldn't bother him."

Ned looked aside. "You shouldn't spend so much time with Tyrion Lannister, Arya." "Why?" "Let's just say he's not the best influence you could have. And Sansa is right, you should use your fork and your knife with this fish."

"The Lord of Casterly Rock doesn't always use them."

"Just like I said, he's not someone to follow."

Sansa somehow agreed with Ned. Lord Tyrion may be a great lord, however, she didn't like his way to behave. She once caught a discussion he had with Jon and Arya where he told them, while talking about Joffrey, the more pretty someone was, the less brain he had. Arya had approved by giving Sansa as another example afterwards. Sansa didn't understand how Lady Margaery could be married with a man so unlike her. She remembered something Arya said at their arrival, that she was about twice his height. Which wasn't the only thing making them entirely different. Sansa was glad she'd never have this problem with Joffrey. At the same time, she admired Lady Margaery even more for that, to be married with this man and still behave perfectly, like a true great lady should.

A servant came in at this moment, bringing a lemon cake that Sansa commanded a moment ago. She ate it with delight and asked for another one once it was over. Ned allowed it since it was their last day in Winterfell. Sansa noticed Arya looking at her with envy in her eyes. Even Arya loved lemon cakes, too. Ned excused himself. He had duties to attend.

"When do you think you'll marry the prince, Sansa?" Jeyne asked her.

"I don't know. Soon, I hope," she replied.

"Father says it won't happen before a few years. You're too young to marry yet, Sansa," Robb said.

She (Sansa) knew it, of course, however, she was eager to wed the prince all the same. "I will wait."

"He says Sansa is beautiful," Jeyne added. Sansa blushed.

"Jeyne, please, you shouldn't make up stories."

Sansa looked at her sister who wiped her hands from the fish's juice with a towel. "What did you think of Prince Joff, sister? He's very gallant, don't you think?" "Jon says he looks like a girl," Arya answered as she was uninterested. Sansa sighed. She was sorry for her half-brother. "Poor Jon envies because he's a bastard."

Arya defensively scoffed, "Not to me. He's still our other brother."

They remained silent for a time. The servant came back with the second lemon cake Sansa asked for. Arya was looking away angrily. Is a ruined dress or a wrong behavior or a couple of unwanted jokes worth losing someone of your own blood? Sansa looked at the lemon cake. She already had one. She took the plate and handed it to her sister.

"Arya, I'm sorry I said Jon was a bastard. I shouldn't have. It wasn't kind." Her sister looked dumbfounded, but she had taken the lemon cake. "Thank you, Sansa."

They kept eating in silence for a moment, Robb looking strangely at Sansa. After a moment, Arya asked her eldest brother a question.

"What do you think of the prince, Robb?"

"What I think of him? I'm afraid I agree with Jon. He looks like a girl. Sorry, Sansa."

He had an apologetic look on his face. Sansa disagreed, however, she decided to let it pass. Robb had no reason to envy Joffrey, to the opposite of Jon, and there was nothing evil in the way he said it.

Breakfast was interrupted when Septa Mordane came for Arya, telling her that she had to prepare her luggage again. Her clothes were improperly arranged. Sansa didn't have to do the same, so she had some time for herself before they left.

She decided to make a tour of the castle before she made her farewells. Sansa was excited to go to King's Landing. She would marry Joffrey. Maybe it'd just be in a few years, but they would marry one day. He was so handsome, gallant, tall and good-mannered, all the opposite of his father. His mother, Cersei, the queen who was very kind and everything else Sansa expected a queen to be. Princess Myrcella was very sweet and kind, the type of sister-in-law Sansa always dreamed of. They'd be real sisters-in-laws one day. Sansa would be queen. This was a dream, her song. Which was just about to start.

However, Sansa was still somewhat bitter to leave Winterfell. Which had been her home and she never left before. She had so many good memories. She'd miss Robb, Bran, Rickon and Catelyn. She'd miss the godswood, the sept, the Great Hall, the maester's turret where she took her lessons with Luwin, the crypt, the glass garden, the library where she used to read about Florian and Jonquil or Ella. She remembered that the prince in the latter story, a young man named Kit, was very similar to Robb the way he was described. She visited every part of the castle, to see it one last time. She said goodbye to her old life, preparing for the new. She wondered if Catelyn felt the same when she left Riverrun.

Sansa arrived in the library. She realized quickly that she wasn't alone. "Take this one. It's about dragonglass. I need enough to read on the road."

"You already have twenty books, My Lord. This should be quite enough." She recognized the voice of the septon who kept the library.

"Not for me. Ty, bring all of these with you and pack them. I'll stay here. Maybe I'll find another book or two that are interesting."

Sansa saw a small boy emerge from the shelves with a cart full of heavy tomes. She recognized him to be Lord Tyrion's squire. When he saw her, he stopped.

"My Lady," he blushed red.

"Hello." Which was all Sansa replied, "What are these?"

"Books that Lord Tyrion is borrowing for his trip to the Wall, My Lady."

"I hope he'll like them," she said.

The squire seemed at a loss of words, "I must be going. I must prepare everything for my lord's departure."

The boy walked past her with the cart. As he did, the Lord of Casterly Rock emerged from the shelves in turn. He didn't greet Sansa and kept looking at the shelves. After a moment, Sansa cleared her throat and curtsied/curtseyed.

"Lord Tyrion."

He turned and seemed to realize she was there, "Oh, Lady Sansa. Please forgive me, I didn't see you." He turned back his attention to the shelves, but he kept talking to her. "You must look forward to your journey to the capital."

"Yes, I am, My Lord."

"Hmm. I remember when I left my home for my first long journey. I was sixteen, only three years older than you. My brother and I travelled through the Westerlands with one another. I wanted to tour the Free Cities of Essos, but my lord father had forbidden me. Still, it was a pleasant journey. I'll never forget it."

Sansa thought she heard a longing in his voice as he said the last words, "I'm sure the Westerlands are a beautiful place to visit."

"They are. Margaery told me she offered you to visit them one day."

"Yes, she did. Lady Margaery was very kind."

"Indeed, she is. Everyone loves her, me the first. Ah!" The cry came from nowhere. "Blood of Elves by Septon Sapkowski. There are chapters about dragons in it."

He begun to browse the pages of the volume. Sansa remembered the fact that Catelyn warningly advised her to not read it. She (Catelyn) told her (Sansa) that the content was unfit for a lady. "You like to read about dragons, My Lord?"

"I do." His eyes didn't leave the pages. "When I went to King's Landing for my sister's wedding, the first thing I did was to search for the dragon skulls. They were kept in the dungeons. Our dear king had hidden them when he took the capital, to show the days of the Targaryens were gone, and probably because he couldn't suffer anything that made him think about the last of the dragons."

Sansa knew the story. Everyone knew how Robert Baratheon killed Rhaegar Targaryen on the Trident. "Rhaegar Targaryen kidnapped my aunt. He got what he deserved."

"Maybe. Though I'm not sure if his wife and his children have gotten what they deserved, or that all the poor men who died in this war deserved to die. To me, it seems strange to start a war that kills thousands of people only to save one. But again, the history of the Seven Kingdoms is full of these absurdities."

Sansa didn't know how to take it. Ned had fought the Mad King because he killed her grandfather and her uncle, and because the heir to the Iron Throne had stolen her aunt. Ned fought for those he loved and cared about/for, just like Robert Baratheon did. They've done what true knights have done.

Lord Tyrion looked at her over his books. He laid it down on a nearby table. "Sorry, My Lady. I didn't want to cast a shadow on your day."

"No, My Lord. You didn't," Sansa assured him, though it wasn't entirely true. However, it was still better to not make things worse.

The Lord of Casterly Rock looked at her carefully. She felt examined, just like the day he arrived. She didn't like it. "You will marry my nephew soon."

"Well, not before some time." He made a strange face and looked aside for a moment. "I hope this will be a long time." Sansa didn't know what to think of it. "What do you think of your future husband?"

"He's very gallant and kind."

The small lord pulled a face, questioning Sansa, "Do you love him?"

Which startled Sansa. That wasn't something she expected, especially not coming from this man. Which wasn't the type of questions you asked. She looked at him. He was waiting for an answer. Sansa had to give one.

"Yes, I do, and I hope I will prove worthy to be his queen." The Imp nodded and looked down for a moment. He walked to her and took one of her hands in his. "Well, in this case, I wish you all the happiness in the world, My Lady. You'll need it."

He looked straight into her eyes. There was something strange in them. He looked… sorry for her. Why should he be sorry for her? He released her hand.

"Have a good day, My Lady, and an eventless journey to King's Landing."

He grabbed the tome he left on the table and left on these words. Why did he look sorry for her? Surely, Sansa misinterpreted his expression. Surely, he just wanted to wish her well, nothing more. Why would he be sorry?

Sansa left the library after a moment and went to the glass garden. She'd spent a lot of time in this place. Which was beautiful, however, she heard the gardens of King's Landing were far better and bigger. She couldn't wait to see them. She looked at the blue winter roses. Margaery said they didn't grow up elsewhere in the South. She'd miss them.

Joffrey offered her a flower to place in her hair two days ago, after he had given his sympathies for her brother's fall. He was so gentle, strong, tall, brave, kind and handsome. He was perfect. She'd be his queen one day. They'd have children together. She hoped they would look like him. She dreamed of him every night.

"I hoped I would find you here."

Sansa turned to see Lady Margaery right behind her. She hadn't heard her coming. "Margaery." She curtsied/curtseyed properly, however, she didn't forget to call her by her name this time.

"I'm glad to see you, Sansa. Though I'm afraid this will be the last time we meet before long."

"Yes, indeed." Sansa wished Lady Margaery followed them to the capital, but she had to stay with her husband who wanted to visit the Wall. Sansa didn't understand why the Imp wanted so much to see a great wall of ice. Joffrey would never force her to stay alone while he was far away, unless he was forced to by something important. She didn't see what was important in visiting the Wall, especially not for the Lord of the Westerlands when the Wall was in the North. Which would be respective it if had been her lord father.

"Let's walk." Sansa followed the lady. "Winterfell is a beautiful place."

"It is."

"Will you miss it?"

"I will, however, my mother left her home a long time ago. I'll manage, just like her."

Lady Lannister nodded and smiled. "I still remember when I left Highgarden. I was sad of it, but I've known it'd happen one day. And I'm quite happy at Casterly Rock."

"I'm sure I'll be happy in King's Landing, too."

"You'll be my niece by alliance very soon."

"Yes, it's true." Sansa almost didn't think about it.
Joffrey was the nephew of Lady Margaery, so her marriage with him would make them family, even if it would be only twice through marriage bonds. Joffrey was Lady Margaery's nephew by alliance after all. They shared no blood, not even indirectly.

"You know, Sansa, there was a time when it was King's Landing where I hoped to live."

"Really?"

"Of course. Do you think you're the only girl who ever dreamed of becoming the queen?" Sansa's eyes widened in surprise. Lady Margaery laughed. "I was younger at the time, about your age. But I'm happy enough now. I wanted to be queen once, but today, I wouldn't exchange Tyrion against any other man in the Seven Kingdoms."

Sansa was puzzled by what she just heard. Margaery Lannister wished to be queen before. Which meant she wanted to marry Joffrey, leaving left quite a strange impression on her (Sansa). Lady Margaery was Joffrey's aunt. Though, when Sansa thought about it, Margaery was of an age with Joffrey. She was eighteen, whereas, Joffrey was sixteen. Margaery had jewels, dresses, perfumes Sansa could never have, and her hair was arranged in such a complicated and wonderful way that Sansa didn't see how she could replicate it. She looked like a queen as much as the queen herself, whereas, Sansa looked like a child, which she still was. She hadn't even bled yet. For a quick moment, Sansa felt jealous of the Lady of Casterly Rock, even threatened.

However, it left very quickly. She just said she wouldn't take a different husband from Lord Tyrion. Which sounded just as strange for Sansa. She couldn't imagine someone preferring the Imp to Joffrey. Well, maybe Arya, however, it was a special case.

Sansa found something else to talk about, "My mother was supposed to marry my uncle, Lord Brandon Stark, however, he died. Therefore, she married my father instead."

"Yes, I heard. What a horrible thing. No one deserves to die in this way. At least, it seems to me that your parents were happy together."

Sansa nodded. Indeed, they were, "I'm sure it will be just like that with Joffrey." She felt red coming to her cheeks as she said it.

"I hope so for you."

"Can't you really come with us?"

"No. I must stay. I'll wait for Tyrion to come back from his visit at the Wall, and then we'll go back to Casterly Rock. I may not see you until your wedding."

Which would be a long time. "I could visit you to Casterly Rock," Sansa suggested.

"That would be my pleasure." Lady Margaery sat on a bench and Sansa joined her on her invitation. "I thought the North was a grim place when I saw it for the first time, but I have to agree with Tyrion now. It has its own charms."

"King's Landing is a beautiful place, too, I'm sure." "It depends." Lady Margaery said nothing more. Sansa didn't press the issue, however, there was something else she wanted to ask her. "How was it, when you left Highgarden? How did you feel, if I may?"

Lady Lannister spoke for a very long time about Casterly Rock, but she'd spoken even longer about Highgarden. Which was the place where she was born, and it looked even more wonderful than Casterly Rock. The gardens, the festivals, the feasts, the tourneys, the knights, the godswood, the sept, the white stone walls and towers, the fields were fruits and vegetables grew everywhere… While talking about her home, Lady Margaery asked Sansa questions about her own. Sansa did her best to describe Winterfell, however, it looked dull in comparison with the two southern high seats where Margaery Lannister lived.

If the Lady of Casterly Rock thought so, she showed no sign of it and looked quite interested by what Sansa told her. Sansa was impressed by her. She really was a true lady, all courtesy and smile.

"Have you ever heard about my brother, Ser Loras Tyrell?" she asked Sansa. "The Knight of Flowers?"

"Yes, I have." Everyone in Winterfell had heard about how Ser Jaime Lannister had been defeated by the young Knight of Flowers at the tourney organized for Prince Joffrey's name day. "How is he?"

"Quite handsome, I have to admit it. Loras is two years younger than me, but he's already promised to become a great knight. There are many young women who are keeping an eye on him," she added.

The Lady Cerenna and the Lady Myrielle giggled together. Sansa wished she'd been there for the tourney, and that she had seen the final confrontation between Ser Jaime and Ser Loras.

"What about Prince Joffrey? How was he? How does he look like?" Sansa wanted to know more about her prince.

"There isn't much to say," answered the Lady of Casterly Rock. "I didn't get to know him quite well. With his name day and the tourney, he had too many people around him. I spent more time with his brother, Prince Tommen and his sister, Princess Myrcella. They are very kind and sweet children. You would like the princess I think."

"I'm sure I'll be pleased to meet her."

"My lord husband loves them, too. He's very close to them. I'm afraid Prince Joffrey is not so fond of his uncle, like his brother and his sister. Tommen loves cats very much. He spends a lot of time playing with them. I gave him one when I visited him."

The idea of a prince playing with cats was quite foreign to Sansa, but Prince Tommen was certainly very young, of an age with Bran. Joffrey was older, certainly very different and gallant, but Lady Margaery didn't seem to know much about him. That was a pity.

"Are you done with your stitches, Lady Arya?"

Lady Lannister had noticed that Arya had stopped to sew and looked everywhere. She didn't participate to the conversation and looked bored.

"Aye." However, Arya shouldn't answer like this. A Lady said yes, not aye. And furthermore, she said it on a gloomy tone.

"May I have a look at it?"

Arya didn't even refuse and Lady Lannister stood up to look at her (Arya's) work. Septa Mordane once said Arya had the hands of a blacksmith, which was true. Arya had no talent for sewing. She was only good at riding, and she had often ridden away from them in a run when they went outside the gates. Sansa prayed to the Old Gods and the New Gods that Arya wouldn't ruin everything.

The Lady of Casterly Rock took the cloth Arya was working on and looked at it. She smiled, "How old are you, Lady Arya?"

"Eleven, My Lady." Sansa almost sighed in relief. Arya remembered her courtesies.

"This looks like the type of embroidery I made when I was your age."

"Really?" Arya looked dumbfounded, and Sansa was, too.

"Of course. Do you think I knew how to sew at the time? I didn't. Even now, I'm not that talented. I often skipped my sewing lessons."

Sansa and Jeyne exchanged looks with each other. That was so unexpected. Cerenna and Myrielle Lannister were giggling in silence with Lady Sera. Lady Lannister had allowed her handmaiden to join them.

"My grandmother, the Lady Olenna Tyrell, is not very good at embroidery either," Lady Margaery resumed. "One day, she decided to run away from one of her embroidery lessons, and she bumped into someone while going back to her chambers. The next morning, this someone asked for her hand. I'm quite happy she didn't like embroidery, or else I may not be there."

The ladies accompanying Lady Lannister all burst into laughs, and both Jeyne and Beth joined them. So that was how Lady Lannister's grandmother had met Lord Luthor Tyrell, the father of the actual Lord of Highgarden Mace Tyrell, who was the father of Lady Margaery and Ser Loras. Sansa wondered if that would be how she would meet her future husband, in a corridor, at the moment she expected the less, or in a more official way, with formal presentations.

"Don't worry, Lady Arya," one of the twins assuringly stopping her giggling. "One of our cousins stitch so badly that it looks more like a cobweb than sewing."

"If you're talking about Joy, then you could say her name, Cerenna," commented Lady Margaery. She came back to her seat beside Sansa.

"I'm sure Lady Joy will get better with time," offered Sansa.

Her comment was followed by new giggles from the Lannister twins. "Lady Joy?" She thought it was Lady Cerenna who spoke. She seemed to be the one to talk the most. "She's not really another lady material, Sansa. She is…"

"Joy Hill is the daughter of Ser Gerion Lannister," intervened Lady Margaery. "Ser Gerion was the favorite uncle of Lord Tyrion, and the brother of the previous Lord of Casterly Rock."

Hill was the name given to bastards in the Westerlands. Snow, Waters, Rivers, Flowers, Storm, Sand, Pyke, Hill. All different names used for boys and girls who had highborn parents, but were born out of marriage. Sansa wondered some time ago if Arya was another bastard. They (Sansa and Arya) were exact/polar opposites, and she (Arya) looked like Jon. Catelyn had assured her that Arya was her sister as much as Robb, Bran and Rickon were her brothers. Catelyn was always distant with Jon. Sansa regretted the fact that he was a bastard, however, there was nothing to do about it. She had to keep her distance from her half-brother, even if she remained in good terms with him. Truth be told, she liked him more than Arya, and she pitied him. He was sometimes so shy that Sansa told him what he should do and how he should behave in front of a lady. These times were funny in some way, and Jon never mocked her. He was always kind, and tried his best, unlike Arya.

"Does Joy sew with you?" Arya asked the Lannister ladies, even if she was a little too rude.

"She does," confirmed the Lady of the Westerlands. "Your half-brother, Jon spars with your brother, Robb. Do you think this is any different in the Westerlands or the Reach?"

"It's not," added Lady Sera. "Someone isn't thrown away because he has the wrong father or the wrong mother."

They kept sewing for some more time, but at some moment, Lady Lannister decided they needed to take a little walk. She told Sera and the Lannister twins to accompany Arya, Jeyne and Beth. Sansa had the chance and the honor to walk with the Lady of the Westerlands all alone. This excited her even more than everything else since the Lannisters arrived. The embroidery session had gone very well. Even Arya's bad stitches proved to be almost a blessing in the end. They walked in silence for some time.

"This is a very beautiful garden," Lady Margaery said.

"Yes, it is, My Lady. Sometimes, I walk there," Sansa said.

"You do love gardens, don't you?"

"I do, My Lady."

"I'm sure you would love the gardens in Casterly Rock and Highgarden. Perhaps I could ask your parents to let you accompany me when I travel back there."

"You would? Hmm… That would be a great pleasure for me, My Lady."

"Call me Margaery, please. There are only the two of us here, and anyway there are some rumors that we could become related before long."

Sansa flushed, "These are just stories."

"Stories can be either false… or true," she smiled in a conniving way, however, Sansa couldn't do anything else but follow. "Have you ever left Winterfell, Sansa?"

"No. Not really. Sometimes, I rode around, however, nothing more." Arya was the one to travel with Ned most of the time, whereas, Sansa preferred to stay here and learn under Septa Mordane's and Catelyn's guidances. Which was more important.

"I would like to go to the town outside, the one you call the Winter Town. Would you like to come with me in the afternoon?"

"I'm afraid I can't, My Lady. I have lessons to attend to." Which was Arya's style to skip lessons, however, not Sansa's.

"Of course. By the way, I told you to call me by my name."

"Sorry, my… Margaery," Sansa rectified at the last moment. She wasn't used to call a great lady only by her name. The Lady of Casterly Rock smiled fondly at her, then looked at her right.

"Are these winter roses?" she asked.

The blue flowers emerged from the earth on meters. "Yes, they are."

She caressed the petals of one, "I wanted to have some at Casterly Rock, but the weather doesn't allow the gardeners to cultivate them. Do you think your lady mother would mind if I took one?"

"No, I'm sure she wouldn't."

The Lady of Casterly Rock took it and smelled it deeply, "Sweet." She kept it in her hands and looked again at Sansa. They resumed their walk. "I'm sure you would love the Southern gardens in the South."

"I'm very eager to see them."

"I'm surprised you never left your home, at your age. At five, I was already travelling through the Reach with my parents, and since I got married, I spent more time on the road than at the Rock."

"The Rock?"

"That's how we call Casterly Rock, sometimes, between Lannisters."

"Well, I'm sure I will have my time to see the Seven Kingdoms and Queendoms. Margaery," she added in the end.

"You should really come with me. I have to go back to Highgarden anyway, but we will stop at Casterly Rock on our way, and even at Riverrun, your mother's home. I'm sure you would like it."

"I would, My Lady. But it is to my lord father and my lady mother to decide."

"Yes, you're right. You called me My Lady again."
Sansa rebuked herself inside. "Why are you going back to Highgarden? Aren't you the Lady of Casterly Rock?"

"A cousin of mine is getting married. Willas Tyrell. We were very close in our childhoods. He's like a second brother to me. He's marrying a handmaiden of mine."

"Is he marrying Lady Sera?" Sansa asked curiously all of a sudden, by the talking on marriage.

"No. Sera is not betrothed. She's another of my handmaidens, a dear friend of mine. I wish I could introduce you to her, but she's visiting her family right now."

They kept walking, discussing about that thing and another. They had a very pleasant time, and to the opposite of Sansa's dreams, Arya didn't come on a horse to spoil everything. Sansa got used to calling Lady Lannister just Margaery after a time. She felt very privileged to call this way one of the greatest ladies in the world. She wondered if the queen would allow her to do the same when she would arrive. She reflected that Lord Tyrion said to Rickon, Bran and Arya to call him by his name as well. Perhaps he and his wife weren't as different as Sansa believed.
"Tell me, Sansa, is everything alright between you and your sister, Arya?" Margaery questioned which surprised the elder Stark girl, however, she didn't expect that. "Yes, everything is all right."

"Are you sure? I could feel a little strife between you and her this morning, and last night at the feast, too."

Lady Margaery had an inquisitive look. Sansa couldn't avoid the subject.

"We are opposites. That's all."

"My brother and I have many differences with one another, but it stops neither of us from loving one another. As for my husband… My marriage would be an ordeal if I let our differences get in the way. You have to look at us standing together."

The Lady of Casterly Rock laughed about it, and Sansa timidly joined her. Which wouldn't do to not laugh when the Lady of the Westerlands did. "Sometimes, we have a few disagreements. Nothing serious. When I had disagreements with my brother, we made peace after an hour at most. Which didn't stretch over the next day."

Lady Margaery Lannister had a sad, concerned expression upon her face. Sansa tried to explain, "Sometimes, Arya… doesn't behave well. I'm trying to tell her, however, she doesn't listen, and… And she makes things she finds funny when they're not."

"Like when she ruined your dress. I saw her throwing food at you at the feast."

"That was my favorite dress. I had worked on it for hours."

Sansa looked at the stones on the ground. If only Arya understood and stopped mocking her. Sometimes, Jeyne and Beth mocked Arya, and although Sansa was tempted to join them from time to time, she never did. She never gave any cause to Arya to behave so horribly towards her.

"You know, Sansa, my husband has only one sole sister, and truth be told, they hate one another. When I met the queen in King's Landing for the first time, I tried to mend the fences between them, only to find out that she had no wish to get along with her brother. Tyrion seldom talks about it, but he regrets it. I know he does. He would like his sister to love him, and to understand him, instead of always looking at him as if he was a monster." Sansa understood to some point. She wished Arya could understand and love her, too. "I lacked a sister on my own, Sansa, whereas, Tyrion has one, but he lost her a long time ago. Don't lose Arya."

"I don't want to lose her, however, she's… impossible." How could she explain that? She couldn't find a way to get things well between them. Arya was everything a prim, proper lady shouldn't be, but she rightfully refused to be anything a prim, proper lady should be.

"She ruined your favorite dress last night, you told me."

"Yes, she did." Sansa heard some anger piercing through her voice. She had made this dress especially for Lady Lannister's arrival.

"You can get another one, or even make a new one, I suppose."

"Yes, of course, however,…"

"Can you get another sister?" Margaery questioned which startled Sansa. "Can you replace Arya like you can replace a gown? Is a dress worth losing your sister?"

Sometimes, Sansa wished she could replace Arya, however, it was true, she couldn't replace her. Ned refused to give them separate, respective bedrooms when Sansa asked him because neither of them could live apart easily.

"No," Sansa replied. "However,… that's not only the dress. She…"

"Are all the little disagreements you had enough to sacrifice her? Arya is your only one sole sister, Sansa. You won't get another one. If you lose her, you are unlikely to ever get her back. Is a ruined dress or a wrong behavior or a couple of unwanted jokes worth losing someone of your own blood?"

Sansa thought about that. Which was true. The way it went, there could be a permanent break between her and Arya. Sansa didn't wish it. She wanted Arya to be her sister, however, they were exact/polar opposites. Every time they (Sansa and Arya) don't really get along well, it didn't feel good to be living together as sisters. Therefore, it'd feel better to live apart as sister-less girls who're unrelated to each other/strangers. And yet, they've had good memories together. She remembered a snowball fight they had years ago. Arya and Bran had ambushed her when she emerged from the keep one morning and thrown dozens at her. Sansa chased Arya through the stables and around the kitchen until she slipped on some ice. Arya had came back to see if she was hurt, only to throw another snowball at her face when Sansa told her that she wasn't. Then Sansa grabbed her sister's leg and rubbed snow in her hair. They were both laughing when Jory pulled them apart later. There'd been good times between them, and Sansa loved them.

As she and Lady Lannister kept walking with one another, Sansa thought she should try to make things better between her and Arya. After all, Arya wasn't evil. She laughed at Sansa, however, Sansa did, too, even if that was less often, and she never really tried to stop Jeyne from calling her little sister Horseface, even if she knew that wasn't kind, or to stop the other mockeries towards her sister. Arya was two years younger than her. Her sister wouldn't marry before long. Maybe she could allow some violations of courtesies from time to time. After all, in the stories, there were often women who tried to ruin the lives of the prim, proper ladies or the princesses, but what Arya did was nothing in comparison to what these women did. She'd have try to get along with Arya. If the Lady of Casterly Rock said so, it had to be the right thing to do.

Sansa saw Lord Tyrion leave the high table. She never saw someone like him. He made her think of Hodor. He was small, whereas, Hodor was tall as a giant, and he could speak when Hodor could only say his name, but he was strange. He neither behaved nor looked like a lord should. Lords were supposed to be handsome and tall, to speak well to the ladies and to have good manners. Instead, this one mocked everyone and everything, made japes and comments of doubtful taste. Sansa had to admit that his compliments about how she looked much like her mother and that she'd break many hearts later, were kind, but they weren't done in the right way. Worse, he wasn't rebuked when Arya shook his hand, and even less when she asked if she could kiss his hand. He even allowed Sansa's younger siblings to call him by his name, and not by his title. He looked like everything but a lord.

Sansa didn't know what to make of Lord Tyrion Lannister. She felt uncomfortable to the prospect of being in his presence. He could laugh at her, and she wouldn't know what to do in such circumstances. He was a lord, after all. What was she supposed to do when a great lord japed inappropriately in her presence?

His wife, on the other hand, was everything Sansa thought she would be. Lady Margaery Lannister was a beautiful woman, a great lady, kind, good-mannered, though she said something about her father when she arrived that puzzled Sansa. Still, she was exactly like the great ladies out of the stories. Sansa had to admit that she could have confused her with the Queen, if had she not known who was coming today. The king, the queen, the princes, the princess and their retinue were riding for Winterfell in this very moment. They would arrive in a few days. The Lord and the Lady of Casterly Rock had, by some fortuitous event, found themselves to visit Winterfell about the same time, but they arrived before the royal party. Sansa had nothing against it. They would have two welcoming feasts this way.

Sansa was supposed to present herself before the Lady of the Westerlands during dinner, but she was afraid of being introduced in the presence of her lord husband. Now he was gone. Sansa exchanged a look with Jeyne. They both smiled in conspiracy. Sansa stood up and walked to the dais. The Lannister men were roaring at their table.

Before she could realize it, Sansa was standing before Margaery Lannister of House Tyrell, Lady of Casterly Rock and Lady of the Westerlands. Her hair was curled in a way Sansa never saw before, and she had a braid arranged in such a way... Sansa felt she was insignificant next to this woman. She was discussing with her lady mother when Sansa arrived, but she turned to look at Sansa the moment she stood before them. Sansa made a light curtsy.

"Lady Sansa," which were the first words the Lady of Casterly Rock addressed to her. "I'm glad to finally meet you. I heard some tales about you when I was in the South and I was eager to see you in person." Sansa almost reddened, however, she managed to keep her composure. She didn't know people were talking about her in the other kingdoms and queendoms. She thought about a story she read not long ago, about a beautiful young woman who was kept inside a tower and that all knights kept trying to save. A charming prince finally succeeded, whereas, all the others failed.

"It is my pleasure to meet you, Lady Lannister," Sansa replied.

"You're very beautiful, you know." Sansa couldn't control her smile. "My lord husband is right. You take a lot after your lady mother. Please, approach."

Sansa did as she was told. The Lady of Casterly Rock looked at her closely. Did she see something inappropriate on her? Sansa feared for a moment that Arya ruined something on her dress that she didn't notice. Arya always did everything to humiliate her.

"Did you make this dress yourself?" Lady Lannister finally asked.

"Yes, My Lady." "May I have a closer look? Give me your arm." Sansa did as she was told. She felt the gaze of her mother on her. Lady Stark wouldn't accept any misdemeanor. Lady Lannister passed her hand on the fabric for some time before releasing Sansa's arm. "This is very well made. You have a talent."

"Sansa was always very good at sewing, from the age of three," Catelyn told Margaery.

"I wish I could say the same. I was never much good when it came to embroidery. I'm better at dancing. You know how to dance, Lady Sansa?"

"I do, My Lady. I can sing, too."

"And do you play music?"

"The harp and the bells."

Lady Lannister looked quite impressed, "Well, you really are a talented girl. I can't wait to see you play or sing."

"It would be my pleasure, My Lady."

The Lady of Casterly Rock was smiling at her fondly. "Would you have some time tomorrow, Lady Sansa? We could sew together, and you could show me a few tricks."

Which wasn't something Sansa expected. She looked at Catelyn, unsure of what she should say. Catelyn discreetly inclined her head, smiling all the while. "Of course, My Lady. I would be very pleased."

"Very well. What about next morning? Is there a good place for this?" The last question was for Catelyn.

"The glass garden. It's quite warm inside." "Then, I'll see you there. I'll bring a few friends with me. You could bring your sister and your own friends as well, Lady Sansa."

"Yes, My Lady. Thank you, My Lady."

Sansa turned away on these words. She needed to remind herself all her courtesies to not jump all around. Lady Lannister invited her to spend time with her and the other ladies following her. Sansa couldn't believe it. Which was exactly like in the songs. She sat down with Jeyne.

"And? What did she say? How is she?" her friend asked her.

"She invited us to sew with her tomorrow," Sansa said excitingly.

Jeyne smiled, "Really? I can't believe it. But what dress am I going to wear? This is my best, and I can't look like that before Lady Lannister."

"Don't worry. We will make you look wonderful, you'll see," Sansa reassured Jeyne. As a lady, it was her duty to reassure her friend. Sansa looked among the Lannister retinue. There were a few women who're all richly dressed. Sansa wished she could have a gown like these.

She noticed that the Imp had returned. He sat back at the seat he left not long ago and kissed his lady wife. Septa Mordane always told her that a lord and a lady should never kiss in public. Sansa herself never saw her parents share a kiss. Lord Tyrion Lannister spent his time making jokes Sansa couldn't hear. Looking at the Imp, Sansa wondered how Lady Lannister could live with him. He was small, and was all the opposite of his wife. Her own lord father looked so lordly in comparison. His wife had to be indeed a very great lady to live with him without showing any sign she disliked it. Instead, she spoke to him and laughed with him, though in a more restrained way.

All of a sudden, something splashed on her cheek. Sansa turned to the other side of the table to see her sister holding a spoon, an uncontrollable laugh on her face.

"Arya! It's not funny!"

Her sister had come back and thrown smashed potatoes at her. She didn't have the right to do this. This was Sansa's favorite dress and she worked so hard to make it. Which would be all ruined. Jeyne helped to clean her cheeks while people were laughing all around. She looked at the dais to see the Imp laughing without control. Even if his wife was more discreet, she laughed as well. Arya had spoiled everything. Robb came to bring a groaning Arya out of table. He should've brought her out before.

Sansa spent the rest of the feast, talking to no one in person. Which was so unfair. She'd made a good impression to Lady Margaery and Arya ruined it all within a few seconds. Couldn't her sister behave like another lady once in her life? When their guests left the high table, the Lady of Casterly Rock didn't spare a look at her.

Back in her rooms later, once she had put on her night dress and that her handmaiden was gone, she said to her now sleeping sister what she thought of her, "I hate you."

"I'm awake, you know," Arya's response surprised her. She really thought she was asleep. She shouldn't have said that. A lady should never say such things, especially not to her own sister.

"Sorry, Arya. I didn't mean it."

Her sister scoffed and went back to sleep. Sansa wished so much that things were better between them. Arya was her only sister, but she didn't know how to behave. Couldn't Arya be sweet? Everything would be so simple. However, instead Arya preferred to ride, get dirty in the smithy, the mud and outside the walls of Winterfell. That was all Arya's fault. Sansa tried to help her, to correct her, to make her in a passable if not another fine lady, but Arya had too much Northern wolf blood in her veins to be easily tamed like that. Jeyne shouldn't call her Horseface, however, she wasn't entirely wrong. Arya was more of a horse than a lady. She wanted so much for things to be different between them, however, she couldn't see how. Arya was impossible to manage.

She fell asleep and dreamed of Margaery Lannister. They were sewing together, and everything was fine and perfect, until Arya jumped in with a horse and covered them all with mud. Then she dreamed of the prince. He had came to Winterfell, and he looked perfectly like a prince ought to be. He had spoken with ceremony and great courtesy to her, calling her my lady, and everything was perfect again, until Arya stole his sword from the scabbard at his belt and ran away with it. The prince ran after her, Sansa being left all alone in the courtyard.

"Wake up, My Ladies. It's time to get up," Septa Mordane's voice got Sansa out of her sleep. As usual, her little sister groaned, "Arya, a lady does not groan," Septa Mordane lectured her.

"Is a lady allowed to do anything?" her little sister asked, sounding annoyed.

"Get up and prepare yourself. It is very important that you are presentable today because you are to spend time with Lady Lannister this morning."

Sansa realized that she forgot to warn Arya about it. Now Septa Mordane would pay for her omission. "Ahh."

"Arya, what did I say?" lectured the Septa again.

"Arya, Lady Lannister invited us both to sew with her this morning in the glass garden. We cannot refuse her."

"I would rather spend time with the Imp," retorted Arya.

"Do not call Lord Lannister this way." Arya earned a new rebuke from their septa.

"Why not? That's how everyone calls him, and I don't think he would mind. He didn't when I shook his hand."

"Be glad he didn't. He would have been in his rights to not ever speak to you again or even ask your lord and lady parents to not allow you at the feast."

"Well, he didn't. At least he's kind to Jon."

Which was another mystery for Sansa. Lord Tyrion Lannister had been very kind to Arya, despite her misbehavior, and Jon, too. He even asked to be introduced to him, a bastard, while he mocked her mother's family, Robb and even Sansa herself to an extent.

"It's not with Jon we're going to spend time now, Arya, nor with Lord Tyrion," Sansa said. "We will be spending time with Lady Margaery Lannister, the Lady of the Westerlands. We must behave well this time. You cannot make any false step like yesterday."

"What did I do?" asked Arya.

Sansa felt herself grow angry despite her better sense. "You pitched food at me! You ruined my dress! You humiliated me in front of everyone!"

"Oh, I see. I mustn't embarrass you in front of Lady Lannister."

"Girls, no arguments," said Septa Mordane. "Get ready. You must be in the glass garden before long."

Arya only did the minimum before she slipped away. Sansa, on her side, combed her hair the best way she could and put the second nicest dress she could find after Arya soiled the first one. When Sansa went down to the Great Hall, Arya wasn't there. Bran told her that she ate quickly and left, almost without a word. Sansa neither lingered for the breakfast nor pressed herself. Which was unfitting for a prim, proper lady.

Jeyne joined her and Sansa reassured her once again. She was afraid that her appearance before Lady Margaery wouldn't be good enough. Sansa was afraid that the great lady wouldn't look so well at her after yesterday's accident. She secretly hoped that Arya wouldn't come. When the time came, Sansa left the Great Hall with Jeyne and Beth Cassel, Ser Rodrik's little daughter.

Sansa didn't know if it would be better to find Arya and risk to be late, or to go immediately to the glass garden and take a chance to believe she wouldn't make her dream of last night a reality. In the end, she didn't have to choose since Arya was in the courtyard with a very small man. Sansa recognized Lord Tyrion after some time. He and Arya were close to the practice grounds where Robb and Jon were sparring together. Arya always skipped her lessons to see them fight.

"I never understood why I couldn't wield a sword," Sansa heard her say from the distance. "Because you're a lady," replied the small lord. "Which I'm unfit to be."

"Do you think I want to be a dwarf?

We do not choose who we are, but like Margaery says, we must make the best of our circumstances. Being a lady has its advantages, Arya, just like being a dwarf has its own."

"What advantages?"

"People underestimate you when you're a dwarf or your own free lady. They expect you to be neither clever nor a danger for them. This served me well when I played tricks on my sister."

"You played tricks on your sister?"

"I did. Just like you did to your own sister yesterday. One day at a feast, I noticed a misplaced plank, and my sister and I only happened to sit at the opposite extremities of it. I put all my weigh on it. I never found my sister funnier than when she was entirely covered of turtle stew."

They both laughed. Which was everything but funny to Sansa. Cersei Lannister was Lord Tyrion's sister, the queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You couldn't do that to the queen. She stood away. She didn't even want to talk to the Imp.

"You know, when I really am angry with Sansa, I hide sheep shit in her mattress." Sansa flushed red. "She never knows where the smell comes from. I get the shit out after some time, then put some back when I'm angry again."

The Lord of Casterly Rock laughed with Arya. Now Sansa knew where that stench she sometimes had in her rooms came from. She would say that to their mother. "Poor Lady Sansa. That must hurt her sensibility a lot."

"She's so stupid, always there to tell me what I should do, how, where, and when… Always saying I don't do the things correctly."

"But at least you have a sister who cares about you, Arya. I wish I could say the same about mine. I would rather have a sister like yours than the one I have actually."

Which was so misplaced. He could neither talk this way about the queen nor rebuke Arya for speaking ill of her which made Sansa feel outraged. A young woman with a green gown and brown of hair appeared at this moment before the Lord of Casterly Rock.

"Lord Tyrion,"

"Lady Sera. How are you today? I hope you don't miss your friend, Mira too much," the Imp replied.

"I'm well, My Lord. Everything is fine. I wish Mira was here, but I don't blame her for visiting her family."

"It's true she doesn't have much opportunity to see them." Lord Tyrion turned to Arya again, however, Sansa had the impression he looked at her for a short time, too. "I think it's time you see Margaery. Please be kind to her, Arya. My wife may not fight with swords, but she's gentle. She's not that different from your lady mother. Now, I have to see your father."
Lord Tyrion ruffled her hair, bowed to her and left.

Arya looked around and seemed to realize that Sansa was close.

"My Ladies," said Lady Sera. Sansa thought she remembered her to be in the service of Lord Tyrion's wife. "Lady Margaery Lannister is waiting for you."

Sansa and her friends followed the young woman. Arya followed them as well. None dared to speak. Jeyne and Beth were anxious to meet Lady Margaery in person, and Sansa was afraid of the impression she would make after last night, and the impression her sister would make, but Arya kept her mouth shut. They walked through the glass garden, all warm inside thanks to the hot springs. Sansa had often wondered if it was warm like that in the south. She may ask Lady Margaery about that. No, she couldn't. She would have to limit herself to the usual courtesies, to not risk to aggravate the things more than they already were.

In a square open space, the Lady of Casterly Rock was waiting for them. Two other girls were with her. They looked to be twins, with blond golden hair and green eyes. Sansa noticed that the gown Lady Lannister wore today was lighter than the one she had when she arrived. It even let her arms bare. She welcomed them much warmly, even Arya. She didn't seem to remember at all the events of last night. Sansa decided to not make any mention of it.

Soon, they all sat together, working with needles. Sansa had the place of honor next to Lady Lannister. When she asked her, Sansa showed her how she worked on her embroidery. Sansa noticed, not without pride, that she was indeed better than the Lady of Casterly Rock at needlework. Lady Margaery's works were nice enough, but she lacked the skill to finely do it. Sansa spent some time showing her how to do it. Which was strange to teach something to a great lady, however, Sansa was glad she could. After all, the king was coming soon, and everyone talked that he was planning to make her father his new Hand, and probably to marry his son to Sansa, or his daughter to Robb. Sansa wished the better for Robb, however, she hoped fervently that the king would offer to marry her to Prince Joffrey. She already saw him every night in her dreams.

"You really do it well, Sansa," Lady Margaery said. "I'm impressed. I saw no one in Highgarden who could stitch like that. Or in Casterly Rock, for that matter."

"How is it, My Lady? I mean, Casterly Rock, and Highgarden. How are they?" That was the first real question Sansa dared to ask to the Lady of Casterly Rock since they arrived. Everything was going well. Arya stayed silent in her corner, but she didn't cause any trouble.

"Well, how to say?" She hesitated. "The two are wonderful places. The Rock is a mountain more than a castle, so large that you can explore it all your life and still ignore some of its secrets. It is divided in two hills, one with the main buildings, the Great Hall, the armory, the godswood, the sept, the yards, the rookery… However, the northern hill is more like a place for pleasure and relaxation. When we want to get away from the life at court, my husband and I go there. The castle is next to the Sunset Sea, so we can watch beautiful sunsets and have the scent of the sea coming to us in permanence. Every room is decorated with ornaments made of gold and silver, and the city of Lannisport in its shadow is beautiful too. Ships from all around the world stop there to sell their goods in its markets. I often go there to buy a few things."

Casterly Rock looked like a wonderful place out of the stories as Lady Margaery kept talking about it. Sansa found it odd that the Lady of Casterly Rock went to buy things herself in Lannisport. Why not let her servants do it in her stead? However, who was Sansa to question that? Lady Lannister was a great lady but she had the right to do as she wished.

"Sansa was an innocent girl who believes in charming princes and valiant knights."

"Which includes the rich, wealthy, pure-blooded wizards who're raised to be the enemies of muggles, muggle-borns, half-bloods, squibs and the other non-purebloods."

"So, here's the one who seems to like my japes. Who are you, little lady?" he asked Arya, the wild Northern she-wolf both on the outside and the inside who even resisted the envy to tell him she wasn't another lady material, however, she had to remember the lessons of Septa Mordane. "Arya."

"Arya. Let me tell you, you seem to have more of the North in your veins than your sister and even your brothers," he smiled at her, and she returned it. She supposed it was a compliment, and there weren't many who've had given her some. "We've seen one another before, I think."

"I don't think so," Arya stated uncertainly. She never saw Lord Tyrion before this day.

"Of course, we have. I saw you in the town. You were on a cart, with a helmet on your head." Arya was agape. He recognized her. He was smirking at her. What was she supposed to say? "How did you manage to get back here so quickly, before us?"

Arya decided after some hesitation that it would be better to be honest. "I came back from another gate."

He nodded. "Hmm. You're quite resourceful, are you not? I like that. It's an honor to meet you, Lady Arya, even if I shouldn't call you something that doesn't fit you."

He showed her the palm of his hand. He wanted to kiss her hand. Arya offered it on the side. He looked surprised, but she thought it was a little exaggerated. He shrugged in the end. "A shake of hands? Why not." They've shaken hands.

"Do you want me to kiss your hand instead?" she asked him.

"Arya!" Catelyn almost shouted, where, Sansa almost yelled at the same time, but the Imp only grinned.

"No, I think shaking hands will be alright. I like you. You like my japes and you make good ones." He ruffled her hair and went to Bran. Finally, he was quite funny. Arya was laughing as he turned to her younger brothers.

"What's you name?" he asked to the middle Stark boy.

"Bran."

"Bran? I suppose it's for Brandon."

"Aye, My Lord."

"So, you are Brandon Stark. The man who built this castle. I have to say that I'm impressed. You made a good work."

Arya laughed again. Bran looked confused. "No… No. I'm not… I'm not this Brandon. I'm not Brandon the Builder, either."

"How sad. I would have liked to know how you managed to look so young after eight thousand years. But I'm glad to meet you all the same. Here, take my hand." They've shaken hands. "Hmm. You have a firm grip. You'll be strong enough to build castles later. Is that what you want to do?"

"I want to be a knight," Bran told Tyrion.

"A knight?" Lord Tyrion seemed to think about something. "Interesting. In this case, I could introduce you to my brother when he arrives in a few days."

Bran's eyes widened, "Really?"

"Of course. I'm sure Jaime will be happy to meet a future fellow knight."

He and Bran smiled at one another. Ser Jaime Lannister was Lord Tyrion's older brother, the queen's fraternal twin brother, and a member of the Kingsguard, one of the most renown warriors in the Seven Kingdoms. Bran was obviously enthralled by the perspective of meeting him. The Imp patted his shoulder and turned to the last of Arya's siblings.

"And you, what's your name?" Rickon was almost the only one smaller than him.

"Rickon."

"Rickon. We have similar names. Tyrion and Rickon. We have a lot in common, my boy. We both are the smallest and the youngest of our family." He got a smile from Rickon and they've shaken one another's hands. "You can call me Tyrion, by the way, Rickon. You too, Bran, and you, too, Arya." He made the inverted path and arrived before Sansa. "I think that for the others, my lord will be more suitable."

He came back before Arya's father. There were rumors about the Imp being a horrible man, a demon out of nightmares, but Arya mostly saw a kind man who made jokes. He wasn't like the lords Sansa read about in her stupid stories which made her glad. He was entertaining, whereas, the others would be boring.

He was back before Ned, and had a queer look, "Excuse me, My Lord. Maybe I didn't count well, but I believe one of your children is missing."

A heavy silence fell. Of course, one of Ned's children was missing. Jon wasn't among them. He was left behind, along with Theon, Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik among many. Arya looked at her brother who was behind her. He looked confused. When she looked at her father again to see what he would do, she noticed Catelyn's distressed look. She never understood why she didn't like Jon. He was their brother after all.

Ned had spoken at last, "Jon." He didn't say more.
Their brother stepped forward. Arya left him some space to get through, whereas, Sansa didn't move. She looked away, as if she didn't know their brother. The Imp looked at him and slowly walked towards Jon. He stopped a few feet away from him.

"So, Jon. It's you." He seemed to examine her brother. "You are the son of the Lord of Winterfell, for sure." Lord Tyrion looked at Arya, then back to Jon. "You seem to have as much Northern blood as your sister, Arya." She thought she saw the beginning of a smile on Jon's face. She smiled herself. She knew she looked much more like Jon than her other brothers and Sansa. "Try to look less dull. You should be proud. You were named after a Hand of the King who maintained peace in the Seven Kingdoms for seventeen years. Glad to meet you, Jon."

He offered a hand, and after a moment that looked like an eternity, he'd shaken it. "It's an honor, My Lord," he said.

The Imp turned back his attention to their father. Jon went back behind them. This time, Sansa stepped aside to let him pass just like Arya.

"The hospitality of Winterfell is yours, Lord Tyrion," Ned stated.

"Thank you, Lord Stark, but where are my manners?" He looked behind him, and his wife came forward. Her smile reminded Arya too much of Sansa. She didn't like it. "I present you my wife, Lady Margaery Lannister of House Tyrell."

"My Lord, My Lady," she greeted Arya's parents. "My Lady," Ned bowed. "I met your father many years ago. He's a good man."

Lady Margaery didn't look impressed. She only shrugged, "The last time I saw him, he was still complaining by saying that you stole his victory at Storm's End. But don't worry. My father isn't spiteful. He's just an oaf, the way my grandmother puts it."

She looked at all of them with a sweet smile which annoyed Arya, the wild Northern she-wolf both on the outside and the inside who could easily imagine Sansa wearing the same clothes than Margaery Lannister and acting exactly the same way. Which would be her style.

She turned her attention to the Lord of Winterfell, "If I may, My Lord, we had a tiresome journey."

"Of course," Ned stated. "My men will show you your rooms."

"Thank you."

"There will be a feast tonight. You and all your men are invited," Catelyn stated.

The Lady of Casterly Rock nodded. She looked at the Imp next to her. "Go on. I'll join you later."

"As you wish, my love," he walked away, whereas, Margaery remained alone with them. Their men begun to unload, and there were many boxes and crates.

Margaery Lannister looked at the Lady Winterfell. "Excuse me, Lady Stark, but when we stopped at Riverrun, your father asked me to give you this." She produced a piece of paper from her gown and handed it to Catelyn.

"What is it?" Catelyn asked. She had taken the letter. She looked afraid all of a sudden. "I don't know. I suppose he had a lot to tell you, and that he couldn't only tell it with a raven."

"Was he quite ill, when you were at Riverrun?" "He had to keep bed, like my lord husband said. But I talked with him, and he didn't seem so bad. Maybe you'll learn more by reading his letter." Catelyn stayed silent for a moment, looking at the letter. "I'll see you later at dinner. I hope we'll get to know each other better then," she added for Arya and all her brothers and sister, still smiling sweetly. Which was too much like Sansa. The Lady of Casterly Rock walked away. Arya wasn't sure if she'd like to know her better.

They disbanded afterwards. After a moment, when only Jon was close to her, Arya burst into laughter.

"What is it?" he asked her.

"You saw them. She's almost twice taller than him."

He laughed with her. The rest of the day went normally. The Lannisters and their men were settling in the part of the castle that was used for guests. Arya wondered how they would manage to hold everyone inside the castle when the king and his own retinue would arrive. She didn't really understand why the Lord and the Lady of Casterly Rock came here. She knew the Imp was the queen's brother, so maybe he wanted to spend time with his sister, but why come to Winterfell before her? She didn't complain too much. He seemed nice enough, but she was afraid she'd get stuck with a second Sansa with his wife present here, wanting to know her better. There was also something else she feared.

"You've seen her dress and the jewels she was wearing!"

Arya sighed. Which was exactly what she feared. She was getting dressed, and unfortunately, Jeyne came to talk to Sansa in their bedroom. All they talked about was Margaery Lannister, as if they didn't talk enough about her since she arrived. They were about to go to the feast, and Arya wished it was already over.

"Yes, they were beautiful," Sansa said with admiration in her voice. She looked as if she was dreaming. "She must have fantastic dressmakers. I can't wait to see the queen. She will certainly look even more wonderful."

"Have you noticed the way her hair was braided? I wish I could braid my own the same way," Jeyne said.

"Yes, it looks marvelous. How do you think she does it?"

"She must have people to brush them. Have you seen how many servants she has? I envy them. They have better dresses than ours, and they're only servants. That's so unfair."

"I agree. But the king is coming soon. Maybe we'll go to King's Landing afterwards. I can't wait to go there."

"I want so much to be like her, later."

"Me too."

Arya scoffed, "Oh, please! You've been talking about this all day!"

Sansa replied immediately. "You're just jealous of her."

Arya scoffed again, "So what if I'm jealous of her? Huh? I ain't the one who's talking about her jewels and her dress all the time as if I wanted to be in her stead. To me it looks like you're the one who's jealous."

"I just admire her," Sansa argued with Arya. "Why? Because of a necklace she's wearing was made of gold? She has servants following her everywhere? She happens to be married to a great lord?"

"Not at all!"

"Would you like to be married to him, Jeyne? With the Imp? You would wear the same jewels and the exact same gowns that his wife has. That would be your fairytale, everything you've ever wanted," Arya grinned.

Which offended Jeyne, "I would never marry such a man!"

"She's got jewels, and dresses, and servants because she has money, and she has money because she is married to the Imp. You want to be like her? Then you want to be married to Tyrion Lannister."

"I don't! I would never marry the Imp!" Horror was plain on Jeyne's face, and Sansa's, too. Neither of them would never marry a dwarf.

"Perhaps I should tell Lady Lannister about that, if that's what you think about her husband."

"You… You won't! I will tell Mother if you do." This time, Sansa was the one to yell. Now fear had taken the place of disgust on her pretty face.

Arya liked to tease her sister. Sansa was so stupid. To trap her into her own dreams was very amusing which was just as easy with Jeyne.

"You envy me because you're not as beautiful as I am, and because if the king offers our father to marry someone to Prince Joffrey, it will be me," Sansa said.

Arya scoffed, "The only reason he will choose you is because you were born before me. That's not as if you've done anything for that. Go right ahead and live with your stupid prince. I'll be rid of you."

Arya ran off towards the chamber. She went to the smithy to look at Mikken's work. She stayed there until the feast begun. That was unfair. Sansa always got everything, and she did everything to remind everyone of the things she did well, even if she did it with subtlety. Truly, it made things even worse than if she openly bragged about it. Catelyn always marveled at Sansa's needlework, but she never congratulated Arya for riding a horse or making her sums well. Arya would be happy if Sansa got away, and with Jeyne if possible. No one would call her Horseface anymore, and she would be free from Sansa's annoying presence and talents. However, if what they said around was true, Ned could leave as well, but Arya didn't want him to.

When the time came, Arya went to the feast. Catelyn seemed to look at her dress disapprovingly. She probably had some soot on it, but Arya didn't care. The feast was delicious. There was plenty to eat. Sadly, Arya had to sit with Sansa, Jeyne and Winter-fell's other ladies. She could feel Sansa's disapproving look whenever she took something with her hands, or didn't hold the right utensil with the right hand. She saw Jon at the other side of the Great Hall, sitting among squires, away from Robb and his other brothers. Arya never understood why Jon ate away from them during feasts while he always ate with them when there were no guests and no special events.

Sansa and Jeyne mostly talked in whispers, thus, Arya didn't have to suffer too much of their commentaries on how marvelous the Lady of Casterly Rock was, and since their eyes were almost always on the dais where Lady Margaery was, they left Arya quiet. Arya felt her eyes drawn to the dais as well. She saw Catelyn talk to Lady Margaery a lot. The Imp also took part to the conversation, but her mother didn't seem to like him. Ned didn't talk a lot. Arya saw Tyrion Lannister laugh several times. She noticed something strange with his wife. There was something that looked different with her when they talked together. She didn't know what it was, but she looked different, and her husband too.

At one moment, servants who weren't from Winterfell, the ones that the Imp and his wife came with, went all over the Great Hall with jars and poured everyone a cup of wine that had a golden color. Arya tasted it. Which wasn't bad, but was better than the wine Ned usually allowed them to drink. She managed to drink the whole thing. Which was good.

She saw Lord Tyrion kiss Lady Margaery right after he finished his own cup and leave the dais. He walked out of the Hall. Where was he going? Sansa left her place not long after and came to the dais where she curtsied/curtseyed properly before the Lady Lannister. She had waited for the Imp to be gone to go and speak with his wife. As usual, Sansa preferred the company of boring people. Arya supposed this wasn't a surprise since Sansa was boring as well. Couldn't Sansa stop acting like a perfect lady for one moment and be her sister instead? Of course not. At another table, Arya noticed that Jon had risen, too. Unlike Sansa, he didn't go towards the dais. Catelyn would disapprove. He went towards the door instead. Arya had chosen to follow him. Which took time, among all the guests in the Great Hall. Some had begun to sing in a way Sansa certainly found horrible, but Arya liked it better.

Outside, from under an archway, Arya saw her brother smashing with his sword on a dummy. She started to move to join him. Maybe he could give her a few tricks.

"Is he dead yet?" Arya stopped in her movement. A little shape came out from the obscurity on the other side of the courtyard. Jon stopped to hit his target.

"My Lord," he bowed. "No need for formalities, Jon Snow. That's not as if there was someone else here."

Arya stayed in the dark under the archway. She wasn't sure what to do. "What're you doing out here?" her brother asked.

"I could ask you the exact same, but I'll answer first. I needed a piss, and a drink."

"Isn't there enough wine inside?"

"Yes, there is. But Margaery doesn't like to see me drink too much. She watches me closely."

"You're hiding from your wife to drink?"

"There was a common saying when my father lived. Tywin Lannister ruled the Seven Kingdoms, but was ruled at home by his lady wife. I suppose I'm keeping the tradition."

Arya thought she heard Jon almost laugh at it. She had to admit that it was funny to see a lord, even a dwarf, receiving order from his wife. She remembered how she sent him away to stay with Catelyn when they arrived.

"But you, bastard, what are you doing outside?" Jon walked away. From where she stood, Arya could see he was angry. "Did I offend you? Sorry. You are the bastard though."

"Lord Eddard Stark is my father."

"That's obvious. And Lady Stark is not your mother, making you the bastard." Arya wanted to run and punch the Imp in the face. She hated it when her brother was called a bastard. "Let me give you some advice, bastard. Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor and it can never be used to hurt you."

Jon looked at the little lord again, "What the hell do you know about being a bastard?" Catelyn would have berated Jon for speaking like this to a lord if she was there.

"All dwarves are bastards in their fathers' eyes."

"You are your mother's trueborn son of a Lannister."

"Am I?" He sounded quite sardonic. "You should bring back my lord father to life and tell him. He seemed to forget that quite often before he died. And my sister, too."

"You're the Lord of Casterly Rock."

"Yes, and if my father had had his way, my brother would be lord, my wife would be his wife, and I would be the Imp brother of the Warden of the West."

"I suppose it's better than to be the Kingslayer."

The little lord had no reaction for a time, he made a humorless laugh, "Remember this, boy. All dwarfs may be bastards, yet not all bastards need to be dwarfs. You're called after a Hand who had given peace and prosperity to the Seven Kingdoms for nearly as long as my own father, which is no mall feat. Your brother, the future Lord of Winterfell, is named after a king who spends his days whoring, drinking and eating, while his kingdoms are heading to ruin."

"That's quite cheering," Jon sounded quite sarcastic.

"You didn't tell me why you're outside."

"I needed some fresh air."

"Some fresh air away from Lady Stark, I suppose?" Jon didn't answer. "Don't make that face. At least your father is a good man. The exact same can't be said about mine. At least, it's your father's wife who keeps you away, not your own father, and your sister's love you. I can't say the same about my sister the queen." He raised a gourd. "To the Mother of Madness." He walked away on that while drinking.

The Imp walked close to her, "You should learn to hide better." He didn't look at her while he went back into the Hall, but it was certainly meant for her. There was no one else around. The doors of the Great Hall opened to let him go in. The light from within threw his shadow clear across the yard, and for just a moment Tyrion Lannister stood tall as a king. Then the door closed and the courtyard was in darkness again.

"Were you listening?" Jon had noticed her presence, but he didn't seem angry.

"Sorry. I didn't want to bother."

"That's alright." He came close to ruffle her hair. "What're you doing here?"

"Taking some fresh air."

They shared a smile. "Away from who?"

"Sansa, Jeyne and even Lady Margaery, I think." "Lady Lannister doesn't look that bad. She looks fine to me."

"She looks like what Sansa wants to be."

He smiled, "Don't be that hard on Sansa. She's our other sister."

"Sometimes, I just wish she was… unladylike." "Just like she would like you to be more ladylike. We should get back inside, before your mother starts to worry."

He ruffled her hair again, and they walked together back to the feast.

"Good, good, pivot. Don't forget to pivot."

Arya leaned forward to launch a decisive attack, only to find nothing. He stood aside and she felt a branch hitting her back, though not hard. She turned to see Jon smiling and laughing at her.

"I told you. Don't rush on your opponent. It will only leave you vulnerable. Now, try again, without rush."

Arya took the branch with her two hands. She imagined it was a sword. Then she attacked. Jon parried all her attacks, and often brought the branch to her neck with a quick move. She tried again, and again, and again. He'd given her advice on how to position her feet, how to hold her imaginary sword, how to parry, divert or launch an attack. By the end, she was all sweating.

"Your mother won't like it," Jon stated when they were over.

He dropped his own branch. They were in the godswood, around the middle of the day, not long after dinner. Jon had finally accepted, after repeated demands, to train her at sword fighting. She had asked Robb, but he had refused because their mother forbade it. Arya didn't understand why her brothers could learn to shoot an arrow, fight with a sword and ride while she was compelled to stay put with a cloth and a needle, sharing stupidities with Sansa and her stupid friends against her own free will. Jon had accepted to train her in the end, saying Lady Stark wasn't his mother, hence he didn't have to obey all her orders.

"I don't care," she said. They've begun to walk away. "I want a real sword."

"Maybe you could ask Father," supposed Jon.

"Can't you get me one?"

"I couldn't. Not that." He ruffled her hair and they both smiled at each other.

The time for dinner was over, and they had to get back to the castle before someone discovered what they were doing. Arya knew her mother wouldn't like it if she knew Jon was training her. Her brother made sure to not hit her too hard as they trained, so she wouldn't fall on the ground and damage her dress in any way, or else she would know. She wished he hit her harder. She wanted to learn how to fight.

"Sansa would say a knight shouldn't hit a lady," he told her when they've had begun. "I'm not Sansa because I'm not another lady material," she admitted. "Why should I care if you're not another knight?" she had asked Jon.
"You surely won't be if you continue this way." He had ruffled her hair again. She liked it when he did it. Sansa always stood away from Jon and never talked to him more than necessary, but Arya didn't see any reason to do it. Jon was their brother. Shouldn't Sansa behave with him like she behaved with Robb, Bran and Rickon?

The godswood was a beautiful place. Arya had always liked it. Which was less crowded than the other places of Winterfell, and there she could train. She used to train alone, trying to learn how to fight using a branch as a sword, but now she would have Jon to train with. Maybe they could ask Bran to join them. He could teach them both at the same time, and it would be much funnier.

"Why can't we use practice swords?" she asked Jon as they kept walking.

"Because Ser Rodrik would notice they are missing, and then he would discover the truth and tell your mother."

Again, Arya felt it was unfair. Jon went to the training grounds where he would spar with Robb and Ser Rodrik. Arya went to the maester's turret. She liked the lessons with Maester Lewin. Or more precisely, she liked the maester. He always gave them a pastry at the end of each lesson, and he was very kind. However, she liked his lessons less. Not that she hated all of them. After all, she liked it when he taught them history and talked about Aegon's sisters, but she hated that Sansa was better than her at almost everything. Sansa didn't boast about that, but Arya could see that Sansa felt superior to her, just like she felt superior to Jon.

Sansa had everything. Sansa was two years older; maybe by the time Arya had been born, there had been nothing left. Often if felt that way. Sansa could sew, dance and sing. She wrote poetry. She knew how to dress. She played the high harp and the bells. Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother, Catelyn's fine high cheekbones and thick auburn hair of the Tullys, whereas, Arya took after their lord father, Ned. Her hair was a lusterless brown, and her face was long and solemn. Jeyne called her Arya Horseface, and neigh whenever she came near. Which hurt that the one thing Arya could do better than Sansa was ride a horse. Well, that and manage a household. Sansa never had much of a head for figures. When she would marry, Arya hoped for her husband's sake that he had a good steward.

She climbed many steps and entered the maester's room. Sansa was already there. "We've been waiting for you. Where were you?" she asked.

"That's alright, Sansa. Your sister is not late," assured Luwin. Arya took place next to her sister. "Very well. Today, we will see your multiplications and your divisions."

Good. Something Arya was better at than Sansa. Maester Luwin produced two sheets of paper and had them made a few exercises. Ten minutes later, Arya had finished.

"How did you do that? I'm just at the half," Sansa complained. "That's not a race, Sansa," the maester told her.

"The objective is to give the right answers, not to answer quickly. Keep working, I'll look at Arya's results in the meantime."

Maester Luwin did so and found a few errors among Arya's answers and method. When he was done, Sansa still needed some time to complete her questions. While Arya made advanced exercises, he had to point several mistakes Sansa made. Arya thought she made fewer mistakes than Sansa. While Lewin was explaining her mistakes to Sansa, they heard someone knock on the other side of the door.

They heard the voice of their mother on the other side. "Maester Luwin."

"Come in, My Lady."

Catelyn Stark came in. She looked like an older version of Sansa, even if Arya loved her mother much more than Sansa. She often berated her for running into the mud and getting all dirty, or for behaving inappropriately, like she said, just like Sansa did, but she always forgave Arya in the end and smiled at her afterwards. Sansa simply disapproved of everything Arya did, and she got on her nerves most of the time.

"My Lady," Luwin bowed respectfully. She looked at her daughters.

"I must interrupt your lessons, girls. A scout just arrived. They will be here in an hour. Follow me, you must prepare yourself."

They all knew what it meant, including Arya. They were coming. They had been warned about this two months ago. Arya was quite excited. She wondered how they looked like.

Sansa and Arya were escorted to the same bedroom they had to share with each other. Sansa complained about the fact she and Arya still had to share the same bedroom a few months ago, and she asked Catelyn for a room for herself, but Ned had said that they'd have separate rooms the day they'd get along better with each other. Sisters who aren't mature enough to live apart, are not mature enough to live alone, Ned had said. Sansa complained, however, they didn't move, so they were forced to keep living/sleeping in the same place. Sansa tried to be more civil with Arya afterwards, however, their arguments continued all the same. Nothing changed.

The maids and Septa Mordane helped them to dress and to arrange their hair. Sansa curled her hair and let them free, whereas, Arya kept them as they always were, with a bun and a single braid. Which was easier to run and ride this way. You didn't have hair falling onto your eyes or to worry that a bust of wind would disorganize them. Arya was ready before Sansa.

"Can I leave?" she asked their septa.

"Go and wait in the courtyard with your brothers, your lord father and your lady mother."

Arya had gone to the door and left. As soon as she was out, she pulled her hood over her face. She grabbed a helmet at the armory, hid it under her cloak and ran through the Hunter's Gate. Once outside, she removed her hood and put the helmet on her head. No one would notice her this way. Surely, they would go through the Winter Town before they came inside Winterfell. She wanted to see them before the others.

The inhabitants of the Winter Town were gathering to see them arrive. Arya mingled among them. However, she was smaller than most of the people. She searched for a place where she would have a better view. Maybe she should learn to climb like Bran, then she could see them from the top of the battlements, though she may only see them from afar in this case. She wanted to see them close. She found a cart and climbed on it. From there, she had a perfect view of the road leading from the Kingsroad that went through the town and continued to the South Gate. That would be where they would enter her home. Fortunately, the Winter Town was southwest to Winterfell, and the Kingsroad made a long deviation to lead from the town to the castle. This detour would give her enough time to join her family inside the castle through the Hunter's Gate after she saw them.

It didn't take long before they appeared. This was a large retinue indeed. Arya didn't remember Ned ever bringing so many people with him when he visited the other lords in the North. The first men to arrive were knights. Arya couldn't distinguish their faces for most of them. They all had helmets, and the helmets have hidden most of their faces. They were riding in column, two riders at a time. The first two riders wore a red and black armor, along with a red cloak. Their helmets only allowed to see their jaws. They were carrying banners displaying a golden lion on a red field. The two riders who followed, have worn grey and green armor, their helmets allowing to see only the part of their faces from their mouth to their eyes. Which encircled their faces. They carried green banners displaying a golden rose on a green field.

Which went that way for some time. Two men in green followed two men in red, who in turn followed men in green. Then men on foot appeared, green, red and gold all mixed together. A huge wheelhouse followed. Arya had never seen such a big carriage. And then they came.

Arya recognized him the first. Even if she never saw him before, she couldn't have missed him. He was small, true enough. He wore furs, and had richly decorated clothes. However, he didn't look very much like Arya imagined him. He wasn't bald. His hair fell on his forehead, and he wasn't even disheveled. He didn't look ugly either. No beard, nothing malformed. Maybe his head looked a little big for his body, and he had shorter arms, but nothing really noticeable except that. He was only a man of small height. Arya was a little disappointed. She expected to see the Imp, but she thought he'd be more amusing than that. She thought with some pleasure that Jeyne might find him handsome. She wasn't as tall as Sansa. She could tell her during their next embroidery lesson that he would make a good husband for her if he wasn't married.

Next to the Imp rode a woman who looked young, not far from Robb's and Jon's age. She had brown hair that flew in the air, a thick green dress with gold on it, or so Arya thought, and something around her neck, some precious stone Arya couldn't put a name on. She looked behind them. There were other people who weren't dressed like soldiers, and a few women among them, but they weren't richly dressed like the Imp and the woman at his side. She had to be his wife. Arya had expected the Lady of Casterly Rock to be smaller, of an height with her husband. She looked to be of normal height, without anything particular. The woman was smiling as she looked over the people as they've ridden, it reminded someone else to Arya.

She reported her attention on the Imp. He didn't smile, but he looked neither evil nor angry. In fact, his expression remembered her the expression her father put on when he had to be the Lord of Winterfell, like when he received petitioners or discussed with other lords. Maybe his face was a little darker, but not too much. He looked in her direction. Which only lasted a moment, because he looked away very quickly, but she had the impression he looked straight at her for a second.

They've gone past Arya. Behind them were many other people, maybe servants, and other guards and knights. It was time for her to go back to the Hunter's Gate if she wanted to be in the courtyard when they would arrive. She climbed down the cart and ran to the gate. Arya didn't give any attention to the guards there. All she knew was that they let her pass. She had to be quick in order to get to the courtyard before the Lannisters begun to pour in it.

She saw her family standing there, with a large open field before them to let the visitors come. She ran to her position that was between Sansa and Bran.
"Hey, hey! What are you doing with that on?" Ned stopped her. He removed her helmet. "Go on. Take your place."

Arya had done it. She was sure she would earn a scold later, whether by Ned or Catelyn, but most probably by Catelyn. A lady's duty is to support her husband, not to make war in his stead. Arya hated her lessons, even worse when Sansa was the one to repeat them. She found herself between her sister and Bran, pushing her brother to leave her some place.

She looked at her siblings. Her father, her mother, Robb and Sansa all had their head up, dignified, Sansa and her mother smiling while Robb and Father looked more serious. Bran and Rickon heads have fallen more into their shoulders. She knew Bran was curious about the Imp just like she was. Would he be disappointed when he would realize that the Lord of Casterly Rock was only a short man in the end? Behind them, Jon had their father's serious expression. He looked like him more than ever right now. Theon stood tall in a prouder position than her father's. They waited for the Lord and the Lady of Casterly Rock to come in.

They've begun to emerge from the South Gate. The knights came first. Since Arya had already seen most of them, she looked at the reaction of her siblings. Most of them remained impassive, but Bran looked impressed, and Sansa was marvelling at the show. She always wanted to see knights, just like Arya did, however, not for the same reasons. Arya was interested to see knights because they've known how to fight, whereas, Sansa just saw them as the heroes of the stories rescuing the ladies in distress. Maybe she saw herself like some of these ladies in peril who were just waiting for a knight like one of those to rescue her from a horrible little sister who put shit into her mattress. Arya hoped the knights would laugh at her if she ever told them that. Sansa didn't realize how stupid she looked sometimes, like when she talked about a dress ruined by some orange juice dropped on it, as if that was the worst thing in the world.

Then came the men on foot, much unimpressive, but still, there were quite a lot of them. She noticed the skeptical look on Ned's face. Then finally they came, the Lord and the Lady of Casterly Rock. From there, Arya realized all of a sudden how odd they looked together. She almost burst in laugh. She hadn't noticed this detail before, because she had focused on one of them at the time, but now that she looked at both of them together, she saw it.

She looked at Bran and Rickon, the two younger Stark boys/brothers who looked essentially curious. Sansa, on her side, first looked surprised, but then she gained back the expression she had when the knights came in. Arya wondered how the Imp and his wife could rouse such admiration with Sansa. Robb looked surprised as well, and her mother, too. Ned was better at hiding it, but she saw the surprise on his face for a moment.

Lord Tyrion Lannister and his wife stopped in the middle of the courtyard. A boy who was about Arya's age, came to the lord's side. There was something like a ladder attached to the saddle he used. Arya had never seen such a big saddle on such a huge horse. He got off his horse.

"Thank you, Ty."

There were the first words she heard him say. She thought his voice would be squeaky, like the dwarves she imagined from the stories she read, but it wasn't. It was quite grave, like Ned's voice, or Jon's voice, or any other man's voice. Which seems the boring stories Sansa liked were not the only ones to be only stories. The boy went to take care of the mount and the Imp looked at them. After a moment when he just waited there, he walked in the direction on Arya's parents.

"Lord Stark," he said.

"Lord Lannister," Ned recalled his formalities in a neutral tone.

"It's an honor to meet you." The Imp offered his hand, and her father took it after some hesitation. It was quite strange to see her father speak with such a small man.

"Welcome to Winterfell, Lord Tyrion."

"Thank you. I knew the North was almost as large as all the other kingdoms combined, but that's the first time I test it. I wonder how you do to keep all these lands under control."

"The lords of the North have been loyal to House Stark for centuries, and they will remain loyal to House Stark for the centuries to come."

"I wish I could say the same about the Westerlands." However small the Imp was, he didn't speak at all like a child, or as if he was smaller than anyone else here. He turned his eyes to Catelyn. "Lady Stark." He bowed to her.

"My Lord." she inclined her head as well.

"You have great resemblance with your brother. We stopped at Riverrun on our way and we met your family."

"How are they?"

"Fine, for the most, but your father was quite ill, I'm afraid. He had to keep bed for all the time we stayed there. But I would say he was getting better. I had a discussion with him. He seems to be a good man."

"He is," Catelyn confirmed.

"I like your brother, too. He's a good drinking companion, though he ended under the table before I even began to get drunk."

Arya couldn't retain a laugh when she saw Catelyn's face, and Sansa's, too. Sansa didn't expect that surely, even less than Catelyn. A few people behind tried to contain their laughs as well.

"I suppose these are your children, My Lord?" Lord Tyrion looked at them on their father's right.

"Aye." Their father kept his serious voice, the lord's voice. "My eldest son and heir, Robb."

The Imp went to the eldest of all of them and looked at Robb for some time. "So, Robb Stark. The future Lord of Winterfell. Let me tell you you're much prettier than the king you were named for." A few muffled sniggers could be heard from behind again, and Arya found it funny to see Catelyn's and Ned's faces, not knowing what to do. "But don't worry. I for myself received my name from a king who was known for being unable to get any pleasure from a woman without having her bleed first."

The shock on Sansa's and Catelyn's face was priceless. Robb shook hands with the Lord of Casterly Rock after an awkward moment. He only a muttered a my lord. Arya didn't understand why everyone was acting so strangely.

The little man turned to Sansa. He bowed deeply before her, though it looked quite ridicule with his height. "My lady. May I have the honor to know your name?"

"Sansa, My Lord." she looked very uncomfortable right now, however, she behaved like a perfect lady, as she always put it.

"You seem to take a lot after your lady mother, My Lady."

"Yes, My Lord. Thank you." Sansa managed to smile. She always smiled before guests, even if they were stupid or she didn't like them.

"How old are you, Lady Sansa?"

"I'm thirteen, My Lord." Which surprised the Imp. "Thirteen." He considered her for some time, then he looked at Ned. "Be careful with that one, my lord. She's going to break hearts, and a lot of them. I'm also afraid she'll get taller than her own parents."

He turned away and came before Arya. That was her turn. He looked at her. That was the same look she spotted in her direction back when she saw him in the town.