Chapter Text
Arya despised the carriage. She wanted to be out and about, riding horseback beside Robb and her father. Or she wanted to be back in Winterfell with her natural born brother, Jon Snow. Alas, it was deemed inappropriate for a 'young lady' such as herself to be in breeches when they reached King's Landing and greeted the King. Especially if she was to be the daughter of the King's Hand.
Catelyn Stark was battling sleep. Her eyes where drooping, and her usually rod straight back was slouching. The ride from Winterfell had been tiring, as she was kept awake by the uncomfortable bumps of the King's Road and the thoughts of her youngests, Bran and Rickon, back in Winterfell without a parent.
Sansa was as excited as a toddler on her name day. She had drawn back all the curtains, and flitted along the bench she occupied to look through whichever window she deemed more exciting. As soon as they entered King's Landing, however, she drew close one of the curtains and sat as still and straight as Catelyn would have...if she were completely awake.
When her eyes landed on what must be The Red Keep, Arya nudged her mother, a little harshly out of spite, since it had been a lot of Catelyn's doing to bring Arya along. Cat was convinced being around more royal, pompous asses would have a positive affect on Arya's ladylike behaviours...or lake thereof.
Soon enough, the carriage stopped. Arya jumped out right away, before Harwin could even give her a hand.
Her first reaction was the sudden heat from the beating sun. Her thick Winterfell gown became itchy and sweaty by the time she reached her father, who was at the front of their procession with Robb.
Ned waited for Catelyn and Sansa to catch up before striding up to his old friend, King Robert.
"You've gotten fat." The King addressed Ned when he was barely three feet away.
Arya's eyebrows knitted in accusation, as the King himself was twice the width of her father.
"As have you," Ned replied. There was silence which Arya was unsure of at first, but then suddenly King Robert busted out laughing. They embraced like the old friends they are.
"My wife, Cersei," Robert announced, gesturing to the sour looking woman to his left. Ned stooped and kisses her hand.
"My eldest son, Prince Gendry." He continues.
Ned froze at the dark haired prince. He was built like an ox, and had strong arms that could be seen easily through his thick tunic. Arya was amazed to see no sweat stains, convinced she was already drenched.
As the Prince was being scanned by Ned, he scanned the Starks. His eyes swept over Catelyn, lingered on Sansa, compared Sansa to her look alike mother, then found 14 year old Arya. She made sure to jut out her chin and broaden her shoulders, so maybe her small frame could be slightly menacing.
"Gods..." Ned looked like he'd seen a ghost, forgetting his manners for a moment.
"I know? Isn't he just the spitting image of me in my day?" The King declares with amusement.
King Robert went on to introduce a grimacing golden headed boy called Joffrey, a curly haired girl and a much kinder looking, round boy.
Arya was already being led away with Sansa by Jory and a young Lannister squire, so she didn't even catch the last two's names.
They were led to an amazingly large chamber. As soon as Sansa stopped fretting over the gorgeousness of the airy balcony and massive bed, she threw herself down on it.
"And did you SEE Prince Gendry?!? Isn't he just beautiful!" She gushes.
Arya rolls her eyes, peeling off her layers until she stands in small clothes. She finds herself still overheated even in this state of undress, and becomes cranky immediately, thinking of the cool snow in Winterfell.
"Sansa, I thought you'd have grown out of your ridiculousness at six and ten!" Arya whines.
They wait around for a while longer, as Sansa undoes and brushes her northern braid out of her long Tully hair. Arya lies out on the cool stone floors, welcoming a short nap as she dreams of the dragon bones she plans on visiting later (one of the only positives to this trip).
They expect their mother, or Jory, or maybe a hand maiden to come and call them down to the Stark welcoming feast.
When there's a knock on the door many minutes later, an unfamiliar squire calls through the door.
"Ladies Sansa and Arya, Prince Gendry awaits without." He announces.
"Come in!" Sansa declares immediately, focused on sweeping her freshly brushed mane around her shoulder seductively.
Arya jerks up, insults spewing at Sansa for ignoring her indecency.
Before she can order the squire to freeze, the door is swung open, and in strides Prince Gendry.
He's smiling a charming smile that Arya is SURE he practices in the mirror, until he notices her apparel.
"Oh! My apologies, my lady, I was under the impression you were decent." He explains, although he doesn't turn around, nor even take his blue eyes off of Arya's blooming body.
She grabs the nearest thing to her, and throws it at the Prince's head.
"Shut up and turn around, stupid!" She commands, ignoring the grin growing on his face as he clutches the pillow she threw. The squire is dark haired and shorter than Gendry, and already had the sense to avert his eyes.
"Arya! Apologize immediately!" Sansa snaps at her sister.
"I will apologize to anyone! It's your stupid fault, and his bull-head that won't stop laughing!" Arya cries, snatching a book of the night stand and biffing that at the Prince's back, which is shaking with laughter.
"Your grace!" Sansa squeals, rushing up to Gendry. He still can't stop laughing, although Sansa is all seriousness as she tries to apologize.
Arya yanks on breeches and a tunic, before stomping barefoot past Gendry, Sansa and the young squire, her mind set on some frightening dragon skulls to distract herself.