DAGGERS TO THE HEART Part 1 - GAME OF THRONES

Arya I

The following day the three of them tried to settle into being children until they could formulate a proper plan other than searching through the library and training Sansa to be a fighter, they couldn't fathom out why they'd come so far back in time, before their entire worlds changed. To complicate matters, they knew that although they'd yet to hear word of the death of Jon Arryn, it was going to happen within the next few days, and then the preparations for King Robert's arrival. During the morning the three of them had their various lessons covering histories and sums. That afternoon was dedicated to sparring for the boys and embroidery for the girls. However, Sansa and Arya, much to the shock of Septa Mordane, had managed to complete their entire two hour lesson in less than ten minutes, allowing them to go watch the boys spar and to try to find a way to help Sansa learn how to use a bow and arrow.

Arya and Sansa reached the training yard just in time to watch Jon and Robb practising on the training pell while Theon was helping Bran with his archery skills, for Theon was by far the best archer of all the Starks.

"He's the one you want to teach you archery." Arya stood almost statuesque, like Sansa, her hands were clasped behind her back. "I'm good, but not as good as him."

"I don't need to be as good as Theon." Sansa whispered. "As long as I can hit a target."

"I'll give you a one month head start, then we get into competition?" Arya raised an eyebrow.

"I've never been very competitive." Sansa shook her head. "I'd never beat you."

"Well now is the time to start. You've got a few years to become as good at killing as me." Sansa turned to Arya and gave her a cold stare. "I know you don't want to kill or be a killer, but you've already taken lives, even if you only ordered their deaths. And be honest, please don't say you wouldn't like to kill Joffrey or Ramsay with your own bare hands." Sansa's eyes simply dropped to the floor, a tiny lift of the corner of her lips gave Arya her answer.

"Arya, unless we find a way for father to not leave Winterfell and for me to not be betrothed to Joffrey, we won't have a month."

"Stop acting like a Lady, it might put them off." Arya shrugged. "Wear breeches."

Sansa almost snorted. "Can you imagine mother's face?"

Arya looked her sister up and down. "I dare you."

"I'll have those breeches of mine finished by tomorrow. Jon's old ones aren't too difficult to adjust to fit me." Sansa sighed. "Robb and Jon are about to spar, who would you wager to win?"

"Robb." Arya told her sister. "Jon is a far better fighter, probably one of the finest swordsmen in all of Westeros, but everything Jon can do is from years of physical training. The things his twenty odd year old body can do are completely out of reach for his seventeen year old physique. I saw him battering the seven hells out of the training pell, he was getting really frustrated at not being able to do the things he'd normally be able to do."

"Fancy a wager?" Sansa asked.

"Go on then. What are we wagering? Neither of us have money."

"I'll do your embroidery for a week if Robb wins." Sansa said.

"And if Jon wins?" Arya asked.

"Distract mother for a week by being the perfect daughter." Sansa offered.

"Are you intending to rebel?" Arya looked at her sister wide-eyed.

"I'm intending to find out what is actually going on in this place. I want to go through the ledgers, to see what damage Theon and the Bolton's did. We might not have time to stop father from going south, but I need to be ready to take on running the castle as soon as possible. Winter is coming."