Sunchoke / Arya Stark (2)

18. Too Fat For Your Armor

"It's made too small, Your Grace. It won't go." Lancel remarked.

"Your mother was a dumb whore with a fat arse. Did you know that? Look at this idiot! One ball and no brains. He can't even put a man's armor on him properly." Robert corrected.

"You're too fat for your armor." Ned corrected bluntly and Robert turned sharply to him.

"Fat? Fat, is it? Is that how you speak to your King? That was funny, is it?" Robert demanded and Lancel thought they were all going to die but Ned and Robert laughed out and Lancel offered a choked nervous laugh.

" Oh, it's funny, is it?" Robert questioned looked to Lancel.

"No, Your Grace." Lancel answered quickly dropping his smile.

"No? You don't like the Hand's joke?" Robert demanded and Lancel was ready to piss himself.

"You're torturing the poor boy." Ned remarked.

"You heard the Hand. The King's too fat for his armor! Go find the breastplate stretcher, now!" Robert demanded and Lancel ran out of the tent.

"The breastplate stretcher?" Ned questioned.

"How long before he figures it out?" Robert laughed out.

"Maybe you should have one invented." Ned offered.

"All right, all right. But you watch me out there. I still know how to point a lance." Robert remarked.

"You have no business jousting. Leave that for the young men."

"Why? Because I'm king? Piss on that. I want to hit somebody!" Robert declared.

"And who's going to hit you back?" Ned countered.

"Anybody who can. And the last man in his saddle... will be you!" Robert decided.

"There's not a man in the Seven Kingdoms would risk hurting you." Ned corrected.

" Are you telling me those cowards would let me win?" Robert pondered.

"Aye." Ned agreed without hesitation. 

"Lover's quarrel?" Petyr remarked coming up to Sansa.

"I'm sorry. Do I...?" Sansa looked him over confused.

"Sansa dear, this is Lord Baelish. He's known..." Mordone began.

"An old friend of the family. I've known your mother a long long time." Petyr offered.

"Why do they call you Littlefinger?" Arya interrupted.

"Arya!" Sansa declared, Arya shrugged.

"Don't be rude!" Mordane agreed.

"No, it's quite all right. When I was a child I was very small and I come from a little spit of land called The Fingers, so you see, it's an exceedingly clever nickname." Petyr explained and Arya wasn't impressed.

"Come on Draco, we are going to be late for our dancing lessons and I refuse to be late!" Arya declared, she grabbed his hand and Draco beamed back at his sister before remembering. 

"Syrio wanted to work with you alone." Draco recalled. Arya sighed in rememberance. 

"I will keep draco company." Kelsea assured. "Have fun Arya." 

"Dont have fun without me!" Draco corrected as Arya took off. 

"Your squire... A Lannister boy?" Ned questioned.

"Hmm... A bloody idiot... But Cersei insisted. I have Jon Arryn to thank for her. Cersei Lannister will make a good match', he told me. 'You'll need her father on your side.' I thought being King meant I could do whatever I wanted... what do you think of the lannister? Ava and Tywin... you meet Tywin?"