Game of Thrones Imagines/Oneshots

I. Arya Stark (P&F)

Summary; Theon Greyjoy's Sister and Arya Stark are kindred spirits. 

The bitter, cold wind was the first thing to greet me as I entered Winterfell's training yard. My head was still pounding from my hangover, a consequence of last night's feast, but I felt obligated to attend morning training regardless of my condition. I don't know why I bothered, I could afford to miss a day. It was no different than any other morning. It never was.  

As I made my way through the training yard, I looked over the sea of many familiar faces. A few people were missing, probably due to last night's festivities. If I had known that many people were going to skip this morning, I'd be dead asleep in my bed, cuddled up into my warm furs. 

Not to my surprise, Theon was still dressed in the clothes that I watched him leave the grand hall in. He probably ended up falling asleep with the hounds- again. That's where I usually found him. Either he was cuddled up with the dogs or passed out behind stacks of hay. It really depended on how much he decided to drink that night. 

I gave my brother a passing nod, hoping he wouldn't take this opportunity to brag about his nightly escapades at the local brothel.  That was naive of me. The moment I gave him that passing nod, he took it as an invitation to start talking to me. As he approached me, I internally cursed myself for not staying in bed like I should have. 

For the next thirty minutes, Theon would abandon his training to bother me while I continued my morning routine. I sharpened my sword, a vain attempt to block out my brother's words. He had another long night of drinking and another long night of bedding the first woman to accept his advances. This time was no different than any other time like a repeat of the same story told in slightly different variations. Switch around a few words and it would be the same story as yesterday and the day before that. Everything he said was so predictable that if you asked me to guess the next word to come out of his mouth, I could do it with ease. 

I don't know why he insisted on speaking to me, his sister, about his nightly whoring. In a training yard full of whoring men, you think he'd find someone else more willing to listen to him. In spite of this, he chose to speak to me- the only woman here and probably the last person who wanted to hear about that stuff. I never claimed to be one of the men, and I never will. 

After another ten minutes of him describing her breasts in detail, I had finally heard enough. He annoyed me on the average day, but this morning I was far too hungover to tolerate him.  With a frustrated groan, I reluctantly stopped sharpening my sword and turned my attention to him. "Theon, for the love of the seven, shut the fuck up. No one cares." There were a few quiet snickers that echoed through the courtyard. 

Theon's smug grin had faded, now replaced by an irritated scowl. He muttered something about my moonblood making me irritable, and I shot him a warning glare. He rolled his eyes, and reluctantly accepted my refusal to listen to him. 

Robb, who had been silent up to this point, finally spoke, "Sounds like you're jealous." He said, a smug grin plastered across his face. I scoffed while Theon snorted in amusement  

"Robb, I swear to the gods, I might kill you." I threatened, pointing the tip of my sword in his direction. Robb threw his hands up in mock surrender.

"Very well, I'm done teasing. No need to threaten me with sharp objects, Greyjoy." He 

I jabbed the sword in his direction before slowly lowering it back down and shoving it into my sheath. 

"I'll have you know, I would never stick my cock in that." Theon grimaced, looking me up and down with a critical eye as he spoke.

I scoffed, "Is that all that's stopping you, brother?"

"No," he snorted, "but I won't deny that it helps."