Would've, Could've, Should've // Ned Stark // Hayley Marshall

26. Lies. Fuck 'em

"We were talking about the prince," Sansa said, her voice soft as a kiss. Arya knew which prince she meant: Joffrey, of course. The tall, elder, handsomer one. Sansa got to sit with him at the feast. Arya had to sit with the little one after Hayley had gotten up. 

"Joffrey likes your sister," Jeyne whispered, proud as if she had something to do with it. Definitely a coven, Hayley thought confidently.  "He told her she was very beautiful."

 "He's going to marry her," another girl, Beth declared and Hayley rolled her eyes getting up. 

 "Then Sansa will be queen of all the realm." 

"How old are you again, Sansa?" Hayley pondered. 

"13." Sansa answered proudly. Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily, Arya thought with dull resentment.

 "But Beth, you shouldn't make up stories," Sansa corrected "nothing it set yet... yet." 

'You can do better." Hayley offered as she got up. "Thats a great giraffe Mycella." 

"It's a lion." Mycella laughed out. 

"I knew that." Hayley agreed with a wink. 

"What did you think of Prince Joff, sister? He's very gallant, don't you think?" Sansa gushed. 

"Jon says he looks like a girl," Arya corrected bluntly and Hayley choked out a laugh as she headed off but Sansa sighed as she stitched not meeting Arya's gaze. 

 "Poor Jon," Sansa said. "He gets jealous because he's a bastard." Hayleys head snapped around to Sansa. So she was the covens leader. They were always the bitchiest.

 "He's our brother," Arya said, much too loudly for their quiet stitching circle. Her voice cut through the quiet of the tower room. Septa Mordane raised her eyes sharply at Arya and a thin lipless mouth frowned back at her. 

 "What are you talking about, children?" septa demanded. 

"Our half brother," Sansa corrected, soft and precise. She smiled for the septa. The perfect little lady.  "Arya and I were remarking on how pleased we were to have the princess with us today," she added. Septa Mordane nodded pleased with her answer and Arya groaned.

 "Indeed. A great honor for us all." Septa agreed. Myrcella smiled uncertainly at the compliment. Was it an honor? They seemed to like her but she felt out of place here, with everyone doting and crowding her. "Arya, why aren't you at work?" Arya looked down at her stitches bored. "Let me see your stitches." Arya wanted to scream. It was just like Sansa to go and attract the septa's attention. 

"Here," she grumbled, surrendering up her work. The septa examined the fabric.

 "Arya, Arya, Arya," septa tsked. "This will not do. This will not do at all." Everyone was looking at her. It was too much. Sansa was too well bred to smile at her sister's disgrace, but Jeyne was smirking on her behalf. Arya pushed herself out of her chair and bolted for the door. Septa Mordane called after her with great distaste.

 "Arya, come back here! Don't you take another step! Your lady mother will hear of this. In front of our royal princess too! You'll shame us all!" Septa shouted. Arya stopped at the door and turned back, biting her lip.  She managed a stiff little bow to Myrcella.  "Just where do you think you are going, Arya?" the septa demanded. Arya glared at her.

 "I have to go shoe a horse," she said sweetly, taking a brief satisfaction in the shock on the septa's face. Then she whirled back around, running down the steps as fast as her feet would take her. It wasn't fair. Sansa had everything. Sansa was two years older; maybe by the time Arya had been born, there had been nothing left. No grace, no dignity, no manners.  

Sansa could sew and 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's fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys. Arya took after their lord father. 

"Hey, whats wrong?" Arya had run right into Hayley. 

"I'm useless!" Arya shouted on the brink of tears as she hugged Hayley. 

"You are most certainly not." Hayley corrected. "Why would you think such a thing?" 

"I'm not like sansa and Jayne. I'm not perfect!" Arya whimpered out and Ned heard Arya's little cries and peered down into the courtyard. 

"No one is perfect." Hayley corrected still holding onto Arya. 

"Sansa is." 

"She just pretends to be." Hayley corrected. 

"Jeyne used to call me Horseface, and neighed whenever she came near." Arya remarked. "I'm not pretty like them."

"You are beautiful. Why would that bitch say something like that?"

"Because I can ride, I'm a good rider. I'm better than sansa... its the only thing I'm better at then sansa." Arya remarked. 

"One lies." Hayley declared and Ned leaned on the railing trying to hear them better.  "Two. Fuck her." Hayley declared. "All of them. You dont want to be a robot, you want to be the bad ass rebel that rules the world. Not someone elses puppet." 

"Robot?" Arya questioned confused. 

"Not the point." Hayley remarked. "You dont want to be like them. Who cares what your teachers and mother say? You wont find your way unless you break free from the path in front of you, chose your own path, your own destiny."

"You mean it?" 

"Hell yes and I'm... fuck it just dont tell your parents how much I swear in front of you." Hayley offered with a shrug. 

"Father already knows." Arya corrected pointing up to him. Hayley followed her hand up. Hayley offered him an awkward wave. 

"She already knew all the fun words before I got here." Hayley informed him. 

"I'm sure she did." Ned agreed smiling down at them when Nymeria came running up. Hayleys gaze shifted to the wolf. 

"Hey pretty." Hayley knelt down. 

"Thats Nymeria. Shes my only friend some days." Arya remarked. 

"Well I'm your friend." Hayley informed her. "But I do prefer wolves to people most days." Arya looked back up at Ned and she had not seen him smile like that in a long while. "Nymeria is a pretty name."

"I named her after the warrior queen of the Rhoyne, who had led her people across the narrow sea." Arya told her excitedly. "Which of course was a scandal. Sansa named hers lady." Arya scoffed. 

Arya's wolf loved her, even if no one else did. They went everywhere together, and Nymeria slept in her room, at the foot of her bed. But seeing Hayley now, she felt loved. She felt like being different, being unique was not a bad thing. 

"Bring this pretty girl to your stupid lessons. That should help pass the time." Hayley offered. 

"If only." Arya agreed. "Mother forbidden it," And hayley scoffed. 

"How rude." 

"I know right! I would gladly have taken Nymeria with to needlework...'' A mischievous smile curved Aryas face. "Let Septa Mordane complain about my stitches then. Nymeria would strike the fear of the Gods the old and the new into her. I bet she would praise my stitches then." Hayley laughed out. 

"So what do you want to do, to be one day if not a proper little lady?" Hayley pondered. 

"A warrior."