10.

                                    

                                          


Massey

Arya dropped her work into her lap and groaned. 
   "It's no use. I can't do it."
   "You can," I insisted. "You just don't want to."
   "Why would I?" She raised herself from her chair angrily. The only sound in the room was that of her little feet stomping off toward the window. She stood on a trunk that sat in front of the window. Though distant, the view from there, I knew, was where Bran practiced his archery. "I am not meant for this. I want to be out there."
   "I know." I sighed and lifted myself as well, joining her in overlooking Bran's lessons. We both watched as his arrow clunked into the very bottom of the target, not at all where it was meant to land. 
   "They celebrate him for that, you know. No matter how poorly he does. While I'm stuck up here with some needle and thread. It's not fair."
   "It isn't. You're right. But, as women, we often must do things that bring is no pleasure. If our mothers tell us to sew, we sew. If our fathers tell us to marry, we marry."
   "But, why?" She questioned, looking up to me with big eyes. She presented herself as angry, but I could see that her eyes carried far too many sorrows for such a young girl. 
   "It's just the way of things." I glanced down at Theon, who was patting Bran on the back for trying once more. I placed my arm around Arya and walked her back to the fireside chairs. "It's not fair, but there are things we must do to please the people around us. That doesn't mean we have to lose ourselves to their wishes."
   She nodded, but I'm not sure she fully grasped what I meant. 
   "I only mean that you have the choice to not give all of yourself to unpleasant things. Sew just well enough to please the septa, but insist on using a bow and arrow as well. A sword, even. Your father won't deny you."
   "Right," she replied, half heartedly at best. 
   "You'll find that you can get your way more often than not. Look at you now. The other girls are stuck with Septa Bore-dane, while you get to have private lessons with me." My joke at the septa's expense finally got her to crack a smile once again. "Now please, let's just buckle down and get this done so we can go see what your brothers are up to."
——

That evening, we ate early so that we could head to the practice yard to watch a series of would-be battles. Some of them Robb, Jon, or Theon were involved in. Others, boys I did not know. Jon stuck by my side all night, making sure not to leave me in the company of any strange men. Theon seemed to avoid me all together, visibly in a poor mood. I tried not to take that personally. We all retired to our chambers when one boy, who couldn't have been more than twelve, had his nose broken with a swift swing of a wooden sword. Not much fun to be had after that.
   Though I saw him around the grounds, Theon was absent for dinner the next day. I spent most of my night in Robb's company. He told me the same stories Jon had already told, though he stopped himself when I informed him Jon had told me all about their trip to Winter Town. The dinner tonight was a stew, not at all to my liking, so I left the dining hall with a partially empty stomach. Jon parted from us, excusing himself to his chambers with complaints of a headache. Much of me wondered if his ailment was Robb Stark inflicted. A dishonest attempt to dismiss his half brother and be alone with me. 
   "You didn't eat much." 
   "Oh, yes. Not quite my favorite meal. I'll be alright though," I tried to assure him.