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fan_flashworks2020-04-20 07:42 pm
m_findlow) wrote in fan_flashworks2020-04-20 07:42 pm
Entry tags:
Game of Thrones: Fanfic: Know how
Title: Know how
Fandom: Game of Thrones (A Song of Ice and Fire)
Characters: Arya, Gendry, Hot Pie, Yoren
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,648 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 296 - Sideways
Summary: Arya knows more about traveling than she thought.
'Get a move on, you sorry louts,' Yoren cried out over the camp. It was early morning even though it appeared as if the sun had risen at least two hours ago. Arya knew they were still a long way from the North, and even further from the Wall. Further north the sun didn't rise so early and it set faster, the days shorter the further north you went.
They were still deep in Lannister country, where the days were long and the marching grueling. For her part she didn't march all that much - not as much as the other boys at least. Being as small as she was and with a stride half that of some of the older boys and men, she'd have been three leagues behind their sortie in just half a day's marching. She traveled in the cart that carried their meager food supplies and a handful of weapons. If that was full because other lads had beaten her to it, she walked. She didn't dare travel in the cart that held Yoren 's three prisoners.
Rorge was foul-mouthed and even fouler faced with his nose missing, a crater where it should have been that hissed the air in and out of its hole like a tiny bellow. Biter was worse. With no tongue he couldn't fill Arya's head with foul insults, but his teeth, filed into sharp points like that of an animal, spoke louder than any words. A man might lose his whole arm if he got too close to Biter, even though he seemed to have no taste for his two fellow occupants. Last of all, and perhaps the one that Arya both feared and was intrigued by most was Jaqen H'ghar. He was too polite and too well spoken for Arya to think of him as a criminal, yet Yoren promised her that his crimes were so unspeakable that even his gaolers wouldn't say what he'd done to earn himself a place in the black cells. She would not travel in their cart for all the gold in King's Landing. Not even with Needle at her side to poke through the bars. She had no idea what the Night's Watch would do with men like these. They could not be broken in. Perhaps they would make good target practice for the lads as they trained to become full men of the Night's Watch.
Arya stretched from her spot hunched over the tiny stream where she'd been set to rinsing out the few pots that had been used to cook oats for their breakfast. It was hardly oats and more a gruel in her opinion, watery with a few gritty pieces here and there. Washing up was women's work, she thought ironically, and she might have laughed at that except that Arry, the boy she'd become, would not have found washing up pots amusing in the slightest.
'I'd better be able to see your ugly faces in those pots, boy,' Yoren said to her as he walked past, stopping only long enough to fill one bladder with water and empty another against a tree. Arya didn't reply. She wasn't meant to. It was simply Yoren's way of reminding her that he hadn't forgotten she was there and that her survival was on account of Yoren's unspoken loyalty to her father. He might have been dead but he was still protecting her in his own way.
Yoren snapped his fingers, pointing at Gendry. 'You, go saddle up that horse, boy.' The horse had been a prize claimed by Yoren from two men that thought that a group of boys and petty criminals made easy targets on the road north. Yoren showed them the right of it by divesting them of their swords and their horse, as well as most of their food and a few coppers.
Gendry rolled his eyes at Arya and handed her back the pot he'd only been halfway through cleaning. Arya watched him leave but her gaze stopped halfway as the cart entered her line of sight. Jaqen H'ghar was staring straight at her in a way that made her mouth run dry. It was as if her were staring straight into her soul, stripping away the short hair and filthy rags that Arry wore and seeing instead Arya of House Stark. If any of them knew who she really was, they'd give her up to one of the patrols that manned the Kingsroad. How much gold might they reward a man for giving them the traitor's daughter?
She stared back at Jaqen, refusing to be cowed by his intense gaze until a boisterous laugh forced her to break their staring contest.
'Are you having me on, boy?' Yoren asked. 'You've got that saddle half fucking sideways! What in the name of the gods kind of blacksmith are you that can't saddle a horse?'
Gendry looked embarrassed and annoyed. 'I made shoes and buckles for horse, I never actually fitted them.'
'Aye, it shows,' Yoren replied, nodding. 'You'll be learning before we reach the Wall or the Lord Commander will send me back to find some real men for the Watch. Arry, you know how to saddle a horse, boy?' Arya nodded. 'Then show this city dweller how it's done. Seven help me.' Yoren strode off shaking his head.
'Hear that, lads?' Hot Pie piped up. 'Bull's Head here can't even saddle a horse right.'
'Shut up,' Arya spat. 'I bet you don't know how to saddle one either.'
Hot Pie scowled at her. They weren't enemies now, but they were hardly friends either. 'I know more than you do, Lumpyhead. What are you going to do about it, huh?'
Arya smirked, letting her hand rest on the hilt of her sword. 'I know something you don't. I know some of that boys call you Limpdick behind your back. It would be a pity if they had to start calling you No Dick instead.' Arya pulled Needle put of its sheath a few inches.
Hot Pie's hands involuntarily covered his groin as he scowled again and stomped off.
Gendry shook his head at her. 'Just because you've got a sword doesn't mean you should go around picking fights.'
Arya bristled at the rebuke. 'It wouldn't be much of a fight,' she replied. 'One poke and he'd be leaking fat everywhere.'
'Maybe we should use him to help light our fires, then,' Gendry joked.
Arya ignored him and moved up next to the horse, unbuckling the straps and trying to remove the saddle so that she could first fix the blanket beneath it. It was heavier that she expected and as she tugged at it, it slid off into her arms, nearly sending her tumbling to the ground had Gendry not grabbed for it and taken half the weight.
Gendry leaned in close so he could whisper in her ear. 'Do ladies at Winterfell saddle all their own horses? Don't you have servants to do that?'
Arya readjusted the blanket, having to be up on tiptoes to reach over the back of the tall mare. 'It wouldn't have fallen off at all if some idiot had done up the straps properly.'
'And how do you know so much about it?'
Arya threaded the straps and tightened them around the horses forequarters, pleased do be doing something marginally more useful in her opinion than washing pots. 'My brother taught me so we could go riding beyond the castle.' Never far from the castle and the godswood, she didn't add. Father would have had stern words for her and a skinning for Jon. It was fine for Bran to be allowed to go riding and hunting with Robb, Theon and Jon, but not her.
Gendry offered her a smirk. 'Lords saddle their own horses too?'
'Jon wasn't a lord. He's my half brother, a bastard, but he knows how to do all kinds of things himself. How to fight with a sword, how to shoot an arrow at fifty paces...' She was sure there were other things too, but they escaped her right now. 'He's in the Night's Watch now. You'll meet him when we get there.' She didn't want to stop at Winterfell and stay there. She wanted to be with Jon.
'Oh?' Gendry asked. 'Can he forge a sword as well as fight with one? Can he make a suit of armor fit for the Hand of the King?'
Arya's gaze dropped to Needle in its sheath at her hip. He may not have made it himself, but she thought of him every single time she held it in her hand. 'So, you can do one thing he can't. Big deal.' She propped up the saddle, pulling the leather straps tight before buckling them down, satisfied that they were tight but not so tight as to make the horse uncomfortable.
Hands suddenly grabbed her but the hips and she felt herself thrust into the air before being dumped sideways on the saddle.
'Go on, then,' Gendry teased. 'Show me how to ride like a lady. Don't slide off now.'
Arya grabbed the pommel with her right hand so that she didn't. There was no way she was riding side saddle for anyone. That was for stupid girls like her sister Sansa and Jeyne Pool who were half terrified of horses. She kicked out with both legs, hitting Gendry in the chest hard enough that he fell backwards into the dirt. Finally she'd found one use for sitting so stupidly in a saddle.
He groaned as the wind was knocked out of him before getting back up and grinning malevolently, reaching for her ankle and trying to unhorse her as she gripped the pommel harder.
'Oi!' Yoren yelled. 'Stop mucking about, you two, or I'll have your guts for dinner! That horse is worth more than both you useless lumps.'
'Get a move on, you sorry louts,' Yoren cried out over the camp. It was early morning even though it appeared as if the sun had risen at least two hours ago. Arya knew they were still a long way from the North, and even further from the Wall. Further north the sun didn't rise so early and it set faster, the days shorter the further north you went.
They were still deep in Lannister country, where the days were long and the marching grueling. For her part she didn't march all that much - not as much as the other boys at least. Being as small as she was and with a stride half that of some of the older boys and men, she'd have been three leagues behind their sortie in just half a day's marching. She traveled in the cart that carried their meager food supplies and a handful of weapons. If that was full because other lads had beaten her to it, she walked. She didn't dare travel in the cart that held Yoren 's three prisoners.
Rorge was foul-mouthed and even fouler faced with his nose missing, a crater where it should have been that hissed the air in and out of its hole like a tiny bellow. Biter was worse. With no tongue he couldn't fill Arya's head with foul insults, but his teeth, filed into sharp points like that of an animal, spoke louder than any words. A man might lose his whole arm if he got too close to Biter, even though he seemed to have no taste for his two fellow occupants. Last of all, and perhaps the one that Arya both feared and was intrigued by most was Jaqen H'ghar. He was too polite and too well spoken for Arya to think of him as a criminal, yet Yoren promised her that his crimes were so unspeakable that even his gaolers wouldn't say what he'd done to earn himself a place in the black cells. She would not travel in their cart for all the gold in King's Landing. Not even with Needle at her side to poke through the bars. She had no idea what the Night's Watch would do with men like these. They could not be broken in. Perhaps they would make good target practice for the lads as they trained to become full men of the Night's Watch.
Arya stretched from her spot hunched over the tiny stream where she'd been set to rinsing out the few pots that had been used to cook oats for their breakfast. It was hardly oats and more a gruel in her opinion, watery with a few gritty pieces here and there. Washing up was women's work, she thought ironically, and she might have laughed at that except that Arry, the boy she'd become, would not have found washing up pots amusing in the slightest.
'I'd better be able to see your ugly faces in those pots, boy,' Yoren said to her as he walked past, stopping only long enough to fill one bladder with water and empty another against a tree. Arya didn't reply. She wasn't meant to. It was simply Yoren's way of reminding her that he hadn't forgotten she was there and that her survival was on account of Yoren's unspoken loyalty to her father. He might have been dead but he was still protecting her in his own way.
Yoren snapped his fingers, pointing at Gendry. 'You, go saddle up that horse, boy.' The horse had been a prize claimed by Yoren from two men that thought that a group of boys and petty criminals made easy targets on the road north. Yoren showed them the right of it by divesting them of their swords and their horse, as well as most of their food and a few coppers.
Gendry rolled his eyes at Arya and handed her back the pot he'd only been halfway through cleaning. Arya watched him leave but her gaze stopped halfway as the cart entered her line of sight. Jaqen H'ghar was staring straight at her in a way that made her mouth run dry. It was as if her were staring straight into her soul, stripping away the short hair and filthy rags that Arry wore and seeing instead Arya of House Stark. If any of them knew who she really was, they'd give her up to one of the patrols that manned the Kingsroad. How much gold might they reward a man for giving them the traitor's daughter?
She stared back at Jaqen, refusing to be cowed by his intense gaze until a boisterous laugh forced her to break their staring contest.
'Are you having me on, boy?' Yoren asked. 'You've got that saddle half fucking sideways! What in the name of the gods kind of blacksmith are you that can't saddle a horse?'
Gendry looked embarrassed and annoyed. 'I made shoes and buckles for horse, I never actually fitted them.'
'Aye, it shows,' Yoren replied, nodding. 'You'll be learning before we reach the Wall or the Lord Commander will send me back to find some real men for the Watch. Arry, you know how to saddle a horse, boy?' Arya nodded. 'Then show this city dweller how it's done. Seven help me.' Yoren strode off shaking his head.
'Hear that, lads?' Hot Pie piped up. 'Bull's Head here can't even saddle a horse right.'
'Shut up,' Arya spat. 'I bet you don't know how to saddle one either.'
Hot Pie scowled at her. They weren't enemies now, but they were hardly friends either. 'I know more than you do, Lumpyhead. What are you going to do about it, huh?'
Arya smirked, letting her hand rest on the hilt of her sword. 'I know something you don't. I know some of that boys call you Limpdick behind your back. It would be a pity if they had to start calling you No Dick instead.' Arya pulled Needle put of its sheath a few inches.
Hot Pie's hands involuntarily covered his groin as he scowled again and stomped off.
Gendry shook his head at her. 'Just because you've got a sword doesn't mean you should go around picking fights.'
Arya bristled at the rebuke. 'It wouldn't be much of a fight,' she replied. 'One poke and he'd be leaking fat everywhere.'
'Maybe we should use him to help light our fires, then,' Gendry joked.
Arya ignored him and moved up next to the horse, unbuckling the straps and trying to remove the saddle so that she could first fix the blanket beneath it. It was heavier that she expected and as she tugged at it, it slid off into her arms, nearly sending her tumbling to the ground had Gendry not grabbed for it and taken half the weight.
Gendry leaned in close so he could whisper in her ear. 'Do ladies at Winterfell saddle all their own horses? Don't you have servants to do that?'
Arya readjusted the blanket, having to be up on tiptoes to reach over the back of the tall mare. 'It wouldn't have fallen off at all if some idiot had done up the straps properly.'
'And how do you know so much about it?'
Arya threaded the straps and tightened them around the horses forequarters, pleased do be doing something marginally more useful in her opinion than washing pots. 'My brother taught me so we could go riding beyond the castle.' Never far from the castle and the godswood, she didn't add. Father would have had stern words for her and a skinning for Jon. It was fine for Bran to be allowed to go riding and hunting with Robb, Theon and Jon, but not her.
Gendry offered her a smirk. 'Lords saddle their own horses too?'
'Jon wasn't a lord. He's my half brother, a bastard, but he knows how to do all kinds of things himself. How to fight with a sword, how to shoot an arrow at fifty paces...' She was sure there were other things too, but they escaped her right now. 'He's in the Night's Watch now. You'll meet him when we get there.' She didn't want to stop at Winterfell and stay there. She wanted to be with Jon.
'Oh?' Gendry asked. 'Can he forge a sword as well as fight with one? Can he make a suit of armor fit for the Hand of the King?'
Arya's gaze dropped to Needle in its sheath at her hip. He may not have made it himself, but she thought of him every single time she held it in her hand. 'So, you can do one thing he can't. Big deal.' She propped up the saddle, pulling the leather straps tight before buckling them down, satisfied that they were tight but not so tight as to make the horse uncomfortable.
Hands suddenly grabbed her but the hips and she felt herself thrust into the air before being dumped sideways on the saddle.
'Go on, then,' Gendry teased. 'Show me how to ride like a lady. Don't slide off now.'
Arya grabbed the pommel with her right hand so that she didn't. There was no way she was riding side saddle for anyone. That was for stupid girls like her sister Sansa and Jeyne Pool who were half terrified of horses. She kicked out with both legs, hitting Gendry in the chest hard enough that he fell backwards into the dirt. Finally she'd found one use for sitting so stupidly in a saddle.
He groaned as the wind was knocked out of him before getting back up and grinning malevolently, reaching for her ankle and trying to unhorse her as she gripped the pommel harder.
'Oi!' Yoren yelled. 'Stop mucking about, you two, or I'll have your guts for dinner! That horse is worth more than both you useless lumps.'