Chapter 9 Chapter 8: Arya

Arya's needle is crooked again. She frowned in annoyance, looked at the mess in her hand, and then sneaked a glance at her older sister Sansa who was sitting with the other girls.Everyone says Sansa's sewing is flawless. "Sansa wove things as beautiful as she is," Septa Mordane once said to their lord mother. "Her hands are delicate and delicate." When Lady Catelyn asked about Arya's behavior , the nun replied with a snort, "Arya's hands are like those of a blacksmith." Arya glanced furtively around the room, worried that Septa Mordane might read her thoughts.But the nun didn't put her mind on her today. She was sitting beside Princess Myrcella, with a smile on her face and praises in her mouth.Earlier, when the queen had brought Myrcella to join them, the nun had said that she had never been so blessed in her life to be able to instruct a princess as a needleworker.Arya felt that Myrcella's sewing was also a little crooked, but from Septa Mordane's sweet talk, others would never have guessed it.

She looked at her work again, tried to find some way to remedy it, and finally put her needle and thread aside with a sigh.She looked dejectedly at her sister, who was gossiping happily as Sansa deftly sewed.Ser Rodrik's daughter, young Beth Cassel, sat at her feet and listened attentively to every word she had to say.At this moment, Jenny Poole happened to whisper something in her ear. "What are you talking about?" Arya asked suddenly. Jenny showed a surprised expression, and then giggled.Sansa blushed, and Beth blushed.No one answered. "Tell me," Arya said. Jenny stole a sideways glance to make sure Septa Mordane wasn't listening.It just so happened that Myrcella said something, and the nun immediately laughed out loud with the other ladies.

"We were talking about the prince," Sansa said, in a voice as soft as a kiss. Of course Arya knew which prince her sister was referring to, who else could it be but tall and handsome Joffrey?Sansa had sat with him at the dinner earlier, and Arya had naturally had to sit next to the other little fat guy. "Joffrey likes your sister," Jenny whispered, with pride in her voice, as if she had brought it about.She is the daughter of the Steward of Winterfell and Sansa's best friend. "He told her she was beautiful." "One day he'll make her his bride," said little Beth, with her hands folded over her knees, in a voice dreamy, "and then Sansa will be queen of all the world."

Sansa blushed politely.She was still pretty when she blushed, and she was pretty in everything she did, Arya thought disapprovingly. "Beth, don't make up stories like that." Sansa corrected the little girl next to her, flicking her hair to make her words sound less harsh.She turned to Arya. "My dear sister, what do you think of little Prince Joe? He's a very brave man, don't you think?" "Jon said he looked like a girl," Arya replied. Sansa sighed and resumed her sewing. "Poor Jon," she said, "a bastard must be jealous." "He's our brother," Arya retorted, but loudly.Her voice pierced the afternoon silence of the room at the top of the tower.

Septa Mordane looked up.She has a thin face, sharp eyes, and a mouth so thin that the lips are almost invisible. This face seems to be born to frown and get angry.Now she frowned immediately. "Children, what are you talking about?" "Half-brother," Sansa corrected her softly and accurately, smiling at the nun, "Arya and I were just saying what a joy it is to be with the Princess today." Sister Mordane nodded, "That's right, it's a great honor for all of us." Princess Myrcella smiled hesitantly when she heard such a compliment. "Arya, why aren't you knitting?" she asked, getting up and coming, her starched skirt rustling behind her. "Let me see what you weave."

Arya wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but Sansa had brought the nun here. "Here." She said and handed over the "results" helplessly. The nun carefully examined the tapestry in her hand. "Arya, Arya, Arya," she said, "that's not right! You're not good at all!" Everyone was looking at her and it was just too much.Sansa was well-bred and would not laugh at her sister for making a fool of herself, but Jenny snickered aside, and even Princess Myrcella looked pitiful.Arya felt her eyes filled with tears. She stood up from her chair and rushed towards the door.

Sister Mordane shouted behind her: "Arya, come back to me, and try to take another step! I will tell your lord mother about it. How dare you do such a thing in front of our princess?" Lost all our faces!" So Arya stopped by the door, bit her lip and turned, tears streaming down her cheeks.She reluctantly bowed slightly to Messi: "Miss Princess, please forgive me and leave first." Myrcella winked at her, and turned to the ladies beside her for help.But for all her hesitation, Septa Mordane was determined. "Arya, where are you going?" Arya glared at her. "I'll go shoe the horses," she said sweetly, taking satisfaction in the surprised look on the nun's face.After finishing speaking, she turned and left the room, and ran downstairs as fast as she could.

God is so unfair, why does Sansa have everything?Sometimes Arya felt that way.When she was born, Sansa was over two years old, and there was nothing left.Sansa is good at sewing and embroidery, she can also sing and dance, she can recite poems and lyrics, and she knows how to dress up; she plays the harp and plucks the strings, and rings the bells melodiously.To make matters worse, she is still a beauty.From her mother Sansa had the fine cheekbones and thick auburn hair of the Tullys. Arya had dark brown hair and dull, dark brown hair just like her father, and a slender, brooding face.Jenny used to call her "Arya the Horseface," and she neighed like a horse whenever she met her.It made her sad still more to think that the only thing she could do better than her sister was ride a horse.But Sansa is not good at managing housework, and she has always been ignorant of numbers. If she does marry Prince Joffrey one day, Arya hopes that he should have a good housekeeper, otherwise the consequences will be disastrous.

Nymeria had been waiting for her in the guardhouse at the bottom of the stairs.Seeing Arya's figure, she jumped up immediately, and Arya smiled happily. Even if no one in the world loves her, at least there is this little wolf.They were inseparable wherever they went, and Nymeria slept in her room at night, curled up at the foot of the bed.If it wasn't for the mother's permission, she originally wanted to take the little wolf to the sewing room.We'll see if Septa Mordane dares to criticize her work then. Arya untied her, and Nymeria licked her hands eagerly. She had yellow eyes that shone like two gold coins in the sun.Arya named the little wolf after the legendary warrior queen who led her people across the narrow sea, which naturally caused quite a commotion.Sansa, of course, called her pup "Lady."Thinking of this, Arya grimaced and hugged the pup tightly.Nymeria licked the base of her ear, tickling her to giggle.

Septa Mordane must have sent for her lord mother by then, so if she went straight to her chambers she would be caught.Arya didn't want to get caught, and she had a better idea in mind.It was just time for the boys to practice their competitions in the schoolyard, and she wanted to see Robb beat brave Prince Joffrey black and blue with his own hands. "Come on," she whispered to Nymeria, and then she got up and ran, followed by the little wolf. On the airtight bridge connecting the main castle and the armory, there is a window that can have a panoramic view of the entire school grounds, and that is the place she is going to.

When she ran to her destination out of breath, she found that Jon was already leaning against the window lattice, with one foot lifted listlessly against his chin.He was watching the fight below intently, and he didn't come back until his own white wolf rose to meet them.Nymeria leaned over cautiously. Bai Ling had grown taller than the other wolves. He sniffed her, bit her ear lightly, and then turned back and lay down. Jon looked at her suspiciously: "Little sister, shouldn't you take sewing class now?" Arya made a face at him. "I want to see them fight." He smiled and said, "Then come quickly." Arya climbed up to the ledge and sat down beside him, hearing the clanging of the school yard below. But to her great disappointment, only a few younger boys were gesturing on the field.Bran is fully armored and looks like he's strapped into a featherbed.And Prince Tommen was already fat, and this appearance was even more round.They were swinging blunt wooden swords at each other under old Ser Rodrik's watch.The old knight was the coach in the city, tall and strong, with a magnificent white beard.A dozen or so onlookers were cheering for the two little boys, and Robb was the loudest among them.Arya saw Theon Greyjoy standing beside Robb, wearing a black doublet emblazoned with his golden sea monster crest, and a look of mocking contempt on his face.Both of the jousting boys were unsteady on their feet, and Arya figured they'd been fighting for a while. "See, it's probably more tiring than sewing," Jon said. "It's more fun than sewing, too," Arya retorted.Jon grinned, and reached over to ruffle her hair.Arya blushed. They had always been very close, and of all the children Jon and she had inherited the long face from their father.Robb, Sansa, and Bran all look more like the Tully family, and even little Rickon is smiling and flushing.When Arya was a child, she used to fear that she too was a bastard.She went to Jon when she was scared, because Jon was always there to put her at ease. "Why didn't you hang out with them?" Arya asked him. He smiled slightly: "illegitimate children are not qualified to fight against the prince," he said, "even if they practice, only the children of the royal family can hurt them." "Oh." Arya felt so embarrassed that she should have thought of that earlier.On the same day, she lamented the unfairness of life for the second time. She watched as her younger brother swung his sword at Tommen. "I can fight Bran as well," she said. "He's seven and I'm nine." Jon looked at her with the attitude of a little adult: "You are too thin," he took her hand, measured her muscle development, then shook his head and sighed, "Little sister, I think you can't even lift your long sword I'm sorry, let alone wrestling." Arya withdrew her hand, staring at him in disbelief.So Jon reached out to play with her tangled hair again.The two sat quietly together, watching Bran and Tommen circle each other. "Did you see Prince Joffrey?" Jon asked. She hadn't seen it, but on closer inspection she saw him standing in the shadow of the high stone wall at the back of the square, surrounded by people she didn't know, in the livery of the Lannisters and the Baratheons, Probably young servants.There were a few older people in the crowd, she guessed they were mostly adult knights. "Look at the crest on his coat," Jon suggested. Arya took a look, and saw that there was an incomparably gorgeous shield embroidered on the prince's coat, which was undoubtedly an extremely delicate handicraft.The shield is divided into two halves, the crowned stag representing the royal family on one side, and the roaring lion of the Lannister family on the other. "The Lannisters are a proud family," said Jon. "It would have been enough for him to have the royal crest embroidered on his clothes, but he embroidered his mother's crest on it too, and added it with the royal crest. Sit on an equal footing." "Women are important too!" Arya retorted. Jon chuckled and said, "Little sister, then you should follow suit, learn needlework well, and then embroider the badges of Tully and Stark on your clothes." "Embroider a wolf with a fish in its mouth?" She thought it was funny, "That looks so stupid. Besides, girls are not allowed to fight in the battlefield, so what does she need a family emblem for?" Jon shrugged: "Girls have family crests but cannot fight with swords, bastards can hold swords but have no family crests to embroider. Little sister, I didn't set the rules in the world, and I can't do anything about it." A shout came from the square below, and Prince Tommen was seen rolling in the flying dust, unable to stand up, and the pile of leather padded armor made him look like he had just rolled over. Struggle there like a tortoise.Bran was standing beside him with his wooden sword held aloft, ready to strike him as soon as he stood up. "Stop!" yelled Ser Rodrik, and he gave Tommen a hand, helping him to his feet. "Good fight. Louie, Donnis, help them take off their armor." He looked around. "Prince Joffrey, Robb, do you want another round?" Although the sweat of the previous competition was still flowing on Robb's body, he couldn't wait to step forward: "I'm so happy." Joffrey, who had been summoned by Ser Rodrik, now also came out of the shadows where he had been before into the sunlight.His hair was as bright as gold leaf in the sun, but there was a bored look on his face. "Ser Rodrik, it's all child's play." Theon Greyjoy couldn't help laughing and said, "You two are children, yes." "Whether Robb was a boy or not I don't know," said Joffrey, "but I'm a grand dauphin, and I don't want to be swinging wooden toys around with a Stark." "Little Joe, you've hit the sword more times than you've swung it." Robb said, "Are you afraid?" Joff looked at him impassively. "Oh, that's horrible," he said. "Our old warrior is talking." The Lannister squire laughed. Jon frowned at what was happening on the field. "Joffrey is a real jerk," he told Arya. Sir Rodrik twirled his white beard thoughtfully. "Then what do you think?" he asked the prince. "I want to fight with real swords and guns." "No problem," Robb snapped back, "you'll regret it!" The coach put his hand on Robb's shoulder, telling him to calm down. "Using a real sword is too dangerous, I only allow you to use the blunt sword used in the competition." Joffrey didn't answer, but a tall black-haired man with obvious burn marks on half of his face pushed away the people next to him and stood in front of the prince: "Sir, this is your crown prince, what are you? Who has the right to ask him not to use this or that?" "Clegane, I'm the coach of Winterfell, you'd better keep that in mind." "Do you train women here?" asked the tall, burned man, muscular as a bull. "I train knights," said Ser Rodrik sharply, "and when they are grown and skilled enough, I will let them use real weapons." The burned man turned to Robb, "How old are you, boy?" "Fourteen," said Robb. "I've killed people since I was twelve, and I'll tell you, I didn't use a blunt sword." Arya could see that Robb's pride had been bruised, and she was on the verge of losing control of her anger.He said to Ser Rodrik, "Let me use the real sword, and I can beat him." "No, with a blunt sword," Ser Rodrik answered. Joffrey shrugged: "Stark, I think you should wait until you grow up to compete with me, but don't wait until you can't walk." The Lannisters laughed again. Robb's curse resounded throughout the school grounds.Arya covered her mouth in surprise.Theon Greyjoy held Robb's hand to keep him from charging at the prince, while Ser Rodrik twirled his beard worriedly. Joffrey gave a mock yawn, then turned to his brother and said, "Come on, Tommen, playtime is over. Let the boys stay and play." As soon as the words came out, the Lannister subordinates laughed more happily, and Robb cursed louder.Ser Rodrik was flushed with anger, and Theon held Robb tightly, and didn't let go until the prince and his party left. Jon watched them go, and Arya watched Jon, his face as still as the cold spring in the godswood.Finally he climbed down the window sill, "The show is over." He bent down and scratched the back of Bai Ling's ears, and the little wolf also stood up, leaning towards him and acting like a baby. "Little sister, you'd better go back to your room. Sister Mordane must be waiting to fix you. The longer you hide, the heavier the punishment will be. Otherwise, she will make you weave all winter. Wait until When the snow melts in the spring, we shall find your frozen body, with the needle still firmly in the frozen hand." Arya couldn't help but laugh. "I hate female celebrities the most!" she said excitedly, "It's not fair!" "There's no such thing as fairness in this world," Jon replied, and he rumpled her hair again, and got up to leave, Ghost following quietly behind him.Nymeria was about to follow, but after walking a few steps, she turned around and found that her master hadn't followed. So she had to reluctantly go in the opposite direction. Things were worse than Jon had expected, for it wasn't just Septa Mordane waiting in her room, it was Septa Mordane and her mother.