Loki: Game of Thrones

Chapter 15 - The Dancing Master

Loki found himself summoned to appear before the Hand and the king the day after his discussion with Sansa. Loki almost suspected that Septa Mordane had found out, and reported him for unsupervised contact with an unmarried girl. Hmph! Antiquated, medieval notions, Loki thought to himself as he entered the throne room. Huge pillars lined the walls, but the galleries were empty. Court was not in session. The Gold Cloaks were outside the room, which Loki thought was unsafe if the king wanted to remain alive. When he looked up, he saw the Iron Throne at the very end of the hall, beneath a bay window. The melded swords stuck up in all directions, and Loki imagined all the work that went into the powerful (albeit ugly) chair. Sitting in said chair, was King Robert Baratheon, while his Hand, Lord Eddard Stark, was standing next to him. Loki bowed to the both of them, before he awaited his orders. "It would appear that Arya Stark wants to learn more practical skills," King Robert said. Loki's eyebrow went up, and he glanced over at Eddard.

"Arya seems to have acquired a slight sword from Winterfell before we came here," Ned began to explain. "But, I don't want her to use it without the proper training. I would like you to help assist with that." Loki's ears perked up at the idea of training Arya in his methods. Keeping his technique alive. Especially with a pupil as eager as the youngest Stark daughter.

"May I begin at once?" Loki queried. Both Ned and Robert looked at each other. They had to admit, they were slightly surprised that Loki seemed so keen on doing this. Ned, at least, expected him to be slightly put off about being saddled with his daughter. Instead, they saw Loki waiting their commands.

"Arya would like to begin immediately. And, I might add, you won't be doing it alone," Ned told him. Loki frowned on the inside, but bowed to them, and left the throne room. He could not help but rub his hands together.

At last! Something worth doing! Loki thought to himself.

Arya was walking into the entry hall of her family's suite, when she saw Loki sitting crossed legged on a chair against the wall. He was balancing a knife on the tip of his finger. Arya gasped, and Loki looked up. "Welcome, pupil." As soon as Arya heard that word, she squeaked.

"Really?! You're going to teach me how to fight?!" she queried, her voice very loud. Loki stuck his finger in his ear to make sure his eardrum was still intact.

"Yes, Arya. I will teach you how to use knives, poisons, and a few other tricks I have up my sleeve. As for that sword of yours, your father has somebody else in mind." Loki stood up and made the knife disappear in a puff of green smoke. Of course, Arya's mouth dropped open. "That's not very pretty with your mouth hanging open like that. You might catch a fly," Loki commented, and Arya closed it. "Now, tell me what you know about both swords and knives." Arya sat down in the middle of the room, while Loki walked around her.

"Well, the sword is better-" Arya started to say, before Loki's cool fingers pinched her lips shut. She looked up into his green eyes, and saw amusement along with disappointment.

"No, Arya. That's not what I asked. I wanted you to tell me what you knew about both weapons, not personal opinions. Once you obtain mastery, then you can pick and choose favorites," Loki told her. When Loki released her, Arya could still feel a frosty touch to her lips. She licked them slightly, as she concentrated on what she had learned from her brothers.

"Alright... Swords are for hand to hand... but... I think that knives are more for experts, because the range is closer," Arya told him. Loki nodded, and pulled a knife from inside his vest.

"Yes. It took me a long time to develop the skill with knives that I have. I had to get many a cut and scrape before I was good enough to do what I do. And I did have to begin with swords. Now, don't get me wrong. It takes a truly determined fighter to become a master swordsman. I used to be friends with one," Loki said to Arya, thinking of Fandral. "If somebody gave me a sword, what do you think would happen to somebody who challenged me?"

"You'd carve them up," Arya said, remembering what she had heard from servant's gossip about his run in with the Mountain and the Hound at the joust. Loki nodded.

"I'd turn them into a fillet," Loki responded, and Arya giggled. Loki smiled, and that was when the door opened. Sansa entered, a book in her hand, and a red rose pressed to the cover. She glanced up at them quickly, and saw Loki very close to Arya, with a knife in his hand.

"I very much hope there is a logical explanation for this," Sansa said as she slowly put her book down on a cabinet

"Father's having Loki teach me swordplay!" Arya exclaimed enthusiastically. Sansa frowned and gave Loki the 'how could you?' look.

"Oh! Can he teach me how to weave?" Sansa queried. Loki's brow furrowed, and he glanced down at Arya. She gave him the signal finger, and he stooped down to her level.

"She has the spirit of a mouse, and doesn't understand us wolves," Arya whispered to him. Loki smiled, but knew that Sansa had a heart of gold, even if she refused to understand her sister's desire to know the violent arts.

"Here, let me tell you of something that actually happened," Loki said, and he sat both girls down. "Growing up in... my home... I was the second son, the adopted child. My real father despised me and left me for dead. I was raised beneath the shadow of my older brother. He was the warrior, and I was the scholar. My choice of favored past time made me a mockery among their people. Now, obviously my abilities in combat are not to be snickered at, are they?" Both girls shook their heads. "However, I trained differently from my brother, and the other warriors. While they were more hack, slash, and beat down; I was more slice and dice," Loki explained. Arya chuckled, while Sansa looked disturbed. "As we grew older, our differences became more apparent. And, people judged me accordingly. That strained our relationship, and now, we are enemies. You two girls are different, and you would not be yourselves if you decided to be similar. Sansa is obviously more ladylike and refined. While Arya wants to be more like a boy. Get roughed up a bit. Don't judge each other because you are opposites. You must learn to realize that you are two sides of your father's coin. Accept each other. That's all I ask." Both sisters looked rather begrudgingly at each other, before they glanced back at Loki. He was giving them a soft, and reminiscent expression. Sansa stood up first, looking down at Loki, who was crouching facing them.

"I will strive to do as you ask, only because I believe that you desire the best for us. But, I hope Arya also takes something to heart from this..." Sansa said. Loki restrained the urge to roll his eyes, and instead, glanced at Arya. The little spitfire was glaring at her sister, before she turned to Loki.

"I also promise to learn something from this," she told him. Loki smiled. "But then I also promise to learn how to gut and skewer people!" Arya added. Sansa's mouth quirked up, and she left them alone. Loki had to chuckle as he reached over and messed up Arya's hair.