Falling / Bran Stark

6. Needlework

To Aryas disappointment, it was the younger boys drilling. Rickon was so heavily padded he looked as though he had belted on a featherbed, and Prince Tommen, seemed positively round. They didnt want to risk hurting the boys but they needed to learn.

"You gonna train to? Train against me?" Odetta questioned.

"Ummm," Bran glanced to sandor looming in the distance. "I dont want to hurt you odetta." She smirked picking up a sparing sword.

"I wouldnt worry about that. Im quite skilled." odetta assured.

"I have no doubt in my mind that you are better than all of us." Bran declared grabbing her free hand. "It is me that it not the greatest just yet. Im getting better but..." he shrugged and Odetta laughed. "I dont want to hurt you. You see?"

"Oh Bran," Odetta declared kissing his cheek. "You are so sweet." Sandor rolled his eyes annoyed. But in all honestly he liked that bran and odetta liked each other so much. Liked that she had a friend.

Rickon and Tommen were huffing and puffing and hitting at each other with padded wooden swords under the watchful eye of old Ser Rodrik Cassel, the master-at-arms. A dozen spectators, man and boy, were calling out encouragement, Robb's voice the loudest among them. Arya spotted Theon beside him, his black doublet emblazoned with the golden kraken of his House.

"A shade more exhausting than needlework," Jon observed with a grin and Arya rolled her eyes.

"A shade more fun than needlework," Arya corrected. Jon grinned, reached over, and messed up her hair.

"Why aren't you down in the yard?" Arya  asked him. He gave her a half smile.

"Bastards are not allowed to damage young princes," he remarked. "Any bruises they take in the practice yard must come from trueborn swords." Arya watched her little brother whack at Tommen.

"Good aim Rickon!" Odetta declared. "Aim lower his legs are weak spots!"

"Detta!" Tommen whined, bran dodnt like that. He wanted to be the only one with pet names for his Odetta.

"I could do just as good as Rickon," arya gripped. Jon looked her over with all his almost seventeen -year-old wisdom.

"You're too skinny," he said. He took her arm to feel her muscle. Then he sighed and shook his head. "I doubt you could even lift a longsword, little sister, never mind swing one." Arya snatched back her arm and glared at him.

"Odetta is down there and shes just as young as bran. Spinning around a blade." Arya corrected.

"Shes a clegane. They are built different I suspect." Jon countered.

"Shes got a little sword." Arya murmured.

"Looks bored with her little sword. Looks like she wants a real one," jon added.

"Ready Bran?"

"My lady it isnt right-" Rodrick began but sandor stepped forward his shaodw casting over the old man.

"She wants to train. You let her train." Sandor commanded.

"If its alright with you-"

"Why wouldnt it be alright with me?" Sandor barked. Odetta smiled lifting her blade against Bran.

"I will go easy on you," Odetta whispered. Bran blushed. He didnt want her to go easy on him. He wanted to be able to protect her but after their bout it was clear Odetta Clegane needed no mans protection.

"Good job." Odetta kissed his cheek

"He did shit." Sandor corrected bluntly. Odetta pouted up at him. "Its true."

"You dont have to say it outloud. Manners San!" Odetta grumbled.

"Prince Joffrey, Robb, will you go another round?"

"Gladly." Joffrey strut into the sunlight "This is a game for children, Ser Rodrik." Joffrey sneered. "I am a prince. And I grow tired of swatting at Starks with a play sword."

"You got more swats than you gave, Joff," Robb corrected. Odetta ran up to Robb he smiled crouching beside her.

"Hes a whimp." Odetta whispered. "He wont fight you again. You already hurt his ego." Robb laughed, looking to Joffrey the pompous idiot.

"I think you are right." Robb agreed. Bran didnt like how close robb was leaning into his girl. Bran ran up to Odetta holding her hand.

"Are you afraid I was going easy on you?" Joffrey barked as he looked back at robb. "Now your ass will be in the dirt before you blink!" Odetta laughed out she couldnt stop herself. Joffrey scowled back at her but Sandors presence kept joffrey from charging at odetta.

"What are you suggesting?" Robb asked joffrey

"Live steel."

"Done," Robb agreed.

"Oh shit." Odetta was ready for Joff to bleed.

"Oh no." Bran murmured. "Will robb get in trouble if he hurts the prince. Wont he?."

"Joffrey challenged it." Odetta countered. "Its joffreys own fault."

"Live steel is too dangerous. I will permit you tourney swords, with blunted edges." Rodrick corrected. Joffrey said nothing, while Odetta rolled her eyes. "They will have steel when they are ready. When they are both of an age."

"Im of age." Odetta countered. "Certainly Joffrey is too." Joffrey snarled back at her. "What? You got something to say?" Odetta questioned rooting her hands on her hips leaning in. Sandor took a step forward when Joffrey pointed a threatening finger at odetta.

Sandor cleared his throat and joffrey cowered just slightly before turning his attention to Robb once again. A smile curved his lips avoiding odetta.

"Come and see me when you're older, Stark. If you're not too old." Joffrey cackled out.

"Little punk." Sandor muttered.

"Come, Tommen," joffrey said. "The hour of play is done. Leave the children to their frolics." Odetta rolled her eyes moving back to bran.

"I was so worried about you. Thats the crowned prince." Bran remarked. Odetta held his face in her hands, Brans smile appeared and his worry faded.

"And Im Odetta Clegane."