Yours and Mine

Decisions

King's Landing

"And the day grows stranger," Aegon whined as he and Jon walked towards their Father's study. Jon shook his head and walked ahead of his brother.

"Must you whine about everything?"

"I take pleasure in expressing my feelings, stoneman."

"I am not a stoneman." Jon replied and glared at his brother.

They reached the door to the study and Aegon smirked at Jon.

"I bet he's going to marry you off to Margaery Tyrell." He patted Jon hard on the back.

"You are saying it as if I will be the wife and she the husband." Jon frowned and opened the door, both of them walking inside.

"Oh I have no doubt of it." Jon glared at his brother again and turned to look in front of him. His parents were sitting in the study. It was a big hall, with a writing desk in the center and chairs scattered around. Their Father spent most of his time in the study, reading or writing. It wasn't everyday the family got gathered there

"Aegon, Jon, come and sit," Lyanna bid them, smiling warmly. Jon and Aegon each kissed his mother on the cheek.

"Why have you called us, Father? Is something the matter?" Jon asked. He and Aegon took a seat beside his mother.

"Jon," Lyanna said laying a hand on his arm. Jon watched her eyes move to his father then again back to him.

"Your mother and I have decided that it's time you took a Lady wife, Jon," Rhaegar spoke.

Jon turned to look at Aegon who was grinning at him like an i***t. He groaned unhappily. The last thing he wanted was to marry, and the mere thought of his betrothed being Margaery Tyrell made him shake with horror.

"No! You cannot do that! I am not going to marry- so soon."

"Is it Margaery Tyrell, Father?" Aegon asked, interrupting him and not the least trying to hide his amusement at the situation.

"What?" Rhaegar frowned.

"Margaery? Do you like Margaery, Jon?" Lyanna asked and gasped.

"Oh, yes he does," Aegon smirked and nodded his head.

"Shut up, Egg!" Jon groaned. He turned to Rhaegar. "Why the hurry, Father? There is a lot of time for me to choose a wife."

Rhaegar sighed and stood up, slowly pacing around the room. "There is something your mother and I have to tell you." The seriousness in his voice was enough to wipe the grin out of Aegon's face. Jon looked worriedly at his father.

"Connington and I went to see someone today," he continued. "There is a witch who lives in the outskirts of the city. Varys claimed she had been spreading rumours relating to the Crown and our family. I went personally to see her today, to hear these rumours with my own ears. She claims that... the Targaryens' rule will end. "

"Must be another fanatic," Aegon commented.

"I thought so too, but she knows things she shouldn't have. She worships a God named R'hllor."

"You truly believe her words, Father? We know no God by that name," Jon asked.

"I have enough reason to do so, son. She also says you should marry."

"There is a big chance she is lying," Aegon said again.

"I think so too, Egg," Lyanna spoke. "But if this is what gives your Father his peace of mind."

Jon sighed and looked at his parents. Could he refuse them? Aegon was right, it was his job to produce heirs.

"Who must I marry?" He asked.

"Sansa Stark, your cousin and Lyanna's niece. The eldest daughter of Lord Stark."

Jon tried to remember his cousins. He had heard of them, but had never got to meet them. He had never been to Winterfell, but his mother always talked about it as if it were the most beautiful place in Westeros. Jon had never understood how anything so cold could be beautiful to anyone, but maybe that was just him, being born in the warmth of King's Landing.

"I haven't met her," he said simply.

"I know. I have also seen her but once. But she is said to be very beautiful. I know you will grow to love her. I will leave for Winterfell tomorrow," Rhaegar declared. "I will send a raven to Lord Stark."

"Aren't we rushing things, my love?" Lyanna asked. "Ned should be given time to think."

"They won't marry at once. I will bring Sansa Stark here to King's Landing with me. Get to know her, Jon."

"Do I have a choice?" Jon smiled lightly.

"Not exactly, it seems," Aegon spoke. "At least, it isn't Margaery Tyrell."

"Yes." Jon sighed. Thank the Gods it wasn't.

Winterfell

Catelyn had always hoped that some day her daughters would marry great Lords. At least Sansa would. Arya's behaviour sometimes worried her; no one could make a wife out of a woman so untamed. She was such a nuisance, her manners all improper, her appearance disheveled. All like her dear aunt. But her aunt was married to a King. Catelyn doubted it would be the case for Arya. So, she had focused all her attention on grooming the older girl. Since her childhood, Catelyn had brushed Sansa's hair an sewed her the most beautiful dresses, all in the hopes that some day her daughter would appear as a proper and beautiful Lady and find a good husband and grow a family.

The raven arrived before the break of dawn. Ned read it and quickly walked to their chambers, asking for her to follow him. He closed the door behind them and turned to her.

"The King's raven, Cat."

"What does he say?"

Ned hesitated before saying, "He says he wants Sansa to marry Jon."

"Gods!" Catelyn exclaimed. Sansa? Married? All her wishes were coming true. Sansa, the future Queen, married to Jon Targaryen. It was everything she ever wished for. A good Lord is nothing in comparison to a Prince and future King.

"Oh, Ned, it is such great news! Such a good match! Didn't I tell you Ned? She will marry a great man, I told you. Yes, yes, Jon is a great man. The future king of Westeros! Oh, she will be so happy! So happy, indeed!"

But Ned did not share his wife's enthusiasm. His mind went to Rhaegar's words. He'd said that he would arrive in Winterfell within a few weeks. The King hadn't been in Winterfell for twenty years. The hurry seemed strange to Ned.

"Ned, do tell me you accept this match. We couldn't have asked for anything better! Oh, dear sweet Sansa! She will be so, so happy!"

"The King's coming here," he said, not answering her question.

"Well, it will give us time to get Sansa ready, won't it? Tell me, you will accept, Ned. Please!" She begged.

Ned sighed. "I don't have a choice, do I? It's the King."

*****

Seeing the King brought a smile to Ned's lips. Rhaegar Targaryen was a great King, and a greater man. His sister had chosen well. Ned remembered the last time he'd seen both of them together. It was two years after Jon was born. Rhaegar hadn't visited Winterfell after that. Lyanna came a few times, until her duties as a Queen and a mother prevented her to do so.

"Ned," the King smiled warmly.

"Your Grace," Ned kneeled before him. "Winterfell is yours."

The King nodded. Ned rose and the King embraced him.

"We're brothers," he said simply. Ned smiled. "Show me your family."

Catelyn came forward and bowed. She started introducing him to the children. Bran stood between Arya and Rickon, and Sansa to Arya's side. Rhaegar smiled at all of them. Sansa was all grace, she smiled and bowed and her voice ringed like bells when she spoke. Bran and Rickon were too impatient to leave. Bran held Rickon by the hand to stop him from running away. The little boy kept tugging impatiently to free his hand.

Ned's eyes turned to the youngest girl. Arya. She kept fidgeting in her place, occasionally pulling the hem of her dress and scrunching up her nose. That girl had the wolf-blood. Maybe Rhaegar saw it too. He walked to her and smiled warmly.

"Lady Arya."

"Your Grace," she greeted and bowed, collecting herself.

Rhaegar laid his hand on her head. "You look like your aunt, little wolf."

Arya was surprised by the warm greeting. She looked at the King, who was looking back at her fondly. And just like that, she grinned, and decided that she indeed liked Rhaegar Targaryen.

Ned and the King started talking and Arya silently slipped out from the crowd. She saw Rickon and Bran running and was about to follow them when someone laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Were you going to wander off again?" Her mother asked.

"I have greeted the King already. Must I stay now?"

"Child, the King is here to talk about your sister's marriage. You need to stay with Sansa, this is good news for her."

"The King seems like a good man. He won't mind me running off," Arya whined.

"But it is not proper. You should go to your sister, help her with her nerves."

"Why must I?"

"Arya, be a Lady for once in your life and stay with your sister! I command you," her mother glared.

"It's not fair!" Arya muttered angrily and went in search of her sister.

Sansa was in her room, pacing from one side to another. She was wearing a dress of red silk. It matched beautifully with her auburn hair. Arya couldn't help but feel a little jealous. Sansa had always been the more beautiful sister. She had her mother's looks: auburn hair and Tully blue eyes. Arya was more Northern-looking, with dark wavy hair and grey eyes. Arya had always felt overshadowed by her sister's beauty. Most of the times she didn't care, but sometimes she had no choice but to. Sansa started muttering as soon as Arya entered the room.

"Do you know what Mother said, Arya? She said the King wants me to go to King's Landing to stay with his family. Wasn't it enough that they're marrying me to a stranger?"

Arya sighed and propped on the bed, flat on her stomach.

"Come on, Sansa. Wasn't it always your dream to marry a Knight who would fight in tourneys for you? Here's your dream, only, instead of a Knight, there's a Prince. Isn't it better?"

"Yes, I do want to marry a Knight. But not a stranger, and I don't want to leave Winterfell." Hearing the hurt in her voice, Arya sat up and smiled at her.

"It's alright. You'll be among royals. All your dreams will come true. Didn't I tell you marrying was your job?"

"I do want to marry, Arya. It's all I ever wanted, but-," Sansa's voice trailed off, but then she looked at Arya and her eyes shone. "Come with me, Arya!"

"What?" Arya frowned.

Sansa clasped her hands.

"Come with me to King's Landing! We could stay together! I will be so lonely, Arya, please say yes. Say you'll come with me. It'll only be for a few days, then you could come back."

"Sansa," Arya held her sister's at arms' length and stared at her. "Do you even know what you're saying?"

"Please, Arya. I promise you will like it there. And Aunt Lyanna will be there too. I don't want to go alone. Please, please," Sansa pleaded.

Arya looked at her sister strangely. She couldn't go to King's Landing. She would be bored out of her wits. It would be warm and sunny and full of people. And the worst sort of people too. Sansa was talking rather stupid things lately.

"Maybe the marriage is getting to your head. Do you really think I'd go? Me, Sansa?" She shook her head. "Never! Never!"

Sansa clasped her hands tighter. "Arya, please." Then remembering something, Sansa smirked at her sister. "How about you come to King's Landing with me and I give you something in return?"

Arya rolled her eyes. "What do you have that I'd want? I don't want your pretty dresses or hair pins."

"Oh, no, no, sweet sister. I promise that if you come with me to King's Landing, I will convince mother to stop your sewing lessons. Forever."

Arya stared at her sister again. Now that was a bargain. As much as Arya wanted to shout at her sister again that she couldn't go, the offer sounded too tempting. No more needles or prickling. And she could practise swordplay during those hours.

"You can't do that," she frowned at Sansa.

"Yes, I can. And I will. You just have to say you'll come with me."

Arya thought over the offer again. Yes, Sansa could stop the lessons if she wanted. Mother listened to Sansa's every request, and even though Arya was not sure whether her mother would agree to this, one look at Sansa convinced her that her sister was very much confident that she could indeed accomplish the task.

"If you don't stop-"

"I will!" Sansa cut her off. She had a big grin on her face.

"All right, I'll go. But just for a few days."

Sansa squealed and hugged her sister tightly. Arya sighed. Maybe she was making a big mistake, but who cared? The stupid lessons would stop, and she wouldn't have to see Septa Mordane's face for too long. Yes, it wasn't that bad, right?

But she knew that she would be going to the most boring place in the world. She wondered if she would be able to practice with a sword every morning, or if she would have to wear long and uncomfortable dresses everyday. She would also have to bow and curtsy and she had always been terrible at it. And the worst of all, she would have to stay among Ladies, who would look at her and comment on her manners and appearance. Not that she cared, but it would be too irritating. Arya groaned.

King's Landing would surely give her nightmares that night.