AN: small chapter to show some interaction between the queen and the princess. the idea is that after the feast, the queen kept her daughter way to close to herself, to avoid her making a fool of herself and her family. but one fine morning, Lord Stark invites the princess along for a ride in the godswood (who kows who suggested it, right :P) and the princess cannot say no... though her mother does not share her opinion.

3. The Princess and the Queen (1)

"Her hatred glittered irresistibly. I could see it, the jewel, it was sapphire, it was the cold lakes of Norway...You were my home, Mother. I had no home but you"
- Janet Fitch, White Oleander -

Arya doesn't mean to catch that conversation, she honestly doesn't. She'd been scampering about and found herself in one of the ditches that was used to store hay just outside the godswood – the perfect place to hide since there is nothing but open fields for a few yards and her only cover is the low bushes around her. She'd been crawling about there, looking for the bead that had fallen off her dress but stopped her searching when she heard the voices.

They were quiet but Arya knows that is she does not make herself known she will overhear a conversation that perhaps was meant to be private.

"…I do not want you trampling about the countryside. I cannot believe your father agreed to this in the first place."

The queen! Arya thinks, panicking. The chances of making herself known now are none. If her mother knew that she appeared in front of the queen herself crawling underneath the hay… oh, there would be sore pains ahead!

"And don't you think I am not going to speak to your father about the rooms. It's ridiculous." The queen continues, irritation snapping in her voice like the lash of a whip.

"We are in the north mother. Of course it will be chillier than King's Landing even though it's the middle of summer. Did you expect the climate to warm just because the king and queen were coming?"

Arya stifles a snort. She'd liked the princess during the feast better than she had liked her the morning she arrived and she liked how the lords called her Sormdancer too – liked it because it made the crown prince wroth to hear it,

Now, listening to that, Arya liked Myrcella Baratheon even more.

"Don't you mock me, girl." And the harshness of the words was no less of a threat just because it was directed at a daughter. Arya's smile melted away. She could never imagine her own mother speaking this way her or Sansa.

"I am not. I was trying to lighten you spirit."

"Do I seem to be in a mood for japes?"

The princes mumbled something that Arya didn't understand, and the queen huffed.

"And it's not so cold as you make it. I find my own rooms quite comfortable."

"Enough about the room Myrcella! I so dislike it when you play the fool."

The princess said nothing, and really, even if she had Arya was far enough not to hear it – honestly she shouldn't eavesdrop, but she was stuck between a rock and a hard place here and there was nowhere she could go. She couldn't just puff out of the hay in front of the princess and the queen now, could she. Mother would have her hide! And she felt so 'shamed too, for doing something her father would for sure scold her for. It was unseemly, and not just because it wasn't what a lady did, really...

"Be on your guard Myrcella."

There was a heavy sigh. "He is father's dearest friend, mother." The princess said tiredly, as if this was not the first time this argument had been hashed between them.

And so it is that Arya stops drowning in her own thoughts and sharpens her ears. Because they are not just speaking with each other, they are speaking with each other about father. And it's almost immediate, the way it freezes her in place. All the realm knows the queen mislikes her father – Robb had said so and so had Theon.

"Everyone who isn't us is the enemy, girl. Why is it so hard for you to grasp that?"

"Perhaps because I'm not as dim-witted as Joffrey." And there is a bite to the princess' voice that that Arya had not imagined the princess capable of, but that makes her smile none the less.

So she is not as sweet and always charming as she appears! Arya finds that she likes that almost as much as she likes what the princess' words mean: Joffrey is a dimwit, and even his sister knows it! Ha! But then the princess goes on and it's hard to believe she is only six and ten when she speaks. She sounds like father and mother and Robb and Jon… She sounds grown and sure and unshakable.

"Careful girl, my patience has limits." The queen warned, her voice strained.

"And I have seen the limits of your patience." was the immediate reply.

Silence came after that, the kind of silence that Arya recognised: heavy and crackling with things unsaid and things past. It was the kid of silence she felt sometimes between mother and Jon whenever they were alone. It was the kind of silence filled with nasty things.

"You asked that we speak honestly to each other. This is me being honest, mother." The princess said then, sounding softer, conciliatory. She said no more and the silence stretched a little while longer. It was only when the queen spoke again that Arya realized the princess had been waiting for leave to continue.

"Go on." The queen said stiffly, as if unwillingly.

"No one can survive in this world alone, no one - least of all a King. The King needs whatever friends he can get and so will Joffrey, because no matter how it seems to you, grandfather is not going to live forever. You might remind your son of that, the next time he decides to insult the heir of Winterfell."

The queen snorts. "Joff did not insult anyone. It was Robb Stark that was craven enough not to want to take his challenge."

And suddenly Arya knows what they speak of. Joffrey-the-shit had dared Robb to spar with live steel the other day… Robb should have taken the challenge, crown prince of no, Arya thinks angrily. He should have shown that prick what it means to challenge Winterfell. He should have hacked him a good one, fed the chunk of the prince to Greywind.

"Oh mother, had Robb Stark taken my foolish brother on his word, he would have ended up making the heir to the throne bleed in the mud, and that is something he could not do. He was wise and Joff was foolish and arrogant, insulting the boy whose political favour he may need one day." The princess sounds as irritated as her mother does and listening to them, there is no doubt in Arya's mind that these two are very much alike ins some things, as they seem to be different in others.

"Mind your insolent tongue, girl: that is your brother you speak of. He will be your king one day." The queen said, sounding angrier by the moment.

"You might remind him of that. Joff seems to be of the opinion that King means living in a world without consequences."

The queen huffed. "I wonder where he gets that idea."

But her tone was not questioning. The queen was mocking something or someone… Arya was not sure.

"You should teach him better than that." The princess says softly. Whatever the queen had meant that Arya had not understood, the princess obviously had. "And you should not spoil him as you do."

"He is my son." The queen said suddenly, strongly and with a tone that brokered an order, not a statement. The princess must have been as stunned by it as Arya was, because she didn't speak for several moments.

"Of course, mother." The princess said softly. An agreement, a submission. It sounded more, Arya thought, as if the princess had just said 'as you wish, your grace'.

"You will not be going in the outing tomorrow." The queen said, in that same commanding tone.

Only this time, the princess was not so quick to defer. "I will, because the king commanded me and out host invited me personally. You know it would be unbearably rude for me to refuse."

"Make an excuse of it Myrcella. Use that mind you so like to brag about." The queen cut in.

"Anything short of a broken limb will sound trivial mother, and you know it."

"You will make a fool of yourself, as you did that first night. Gallivanting about like some common wench." The distaste on the queen's tone was almost bordering on disgust. Arya was shocked by it, by how a mother could be so blunt to her own daughter.

"Really mother. Let's not start with the insults, they are redundant by now." The princess said, sounding so utterly bored that Arya had to wonder… was this really that common an occurrence.

"I tell you girl, I will not tolerate you out of my sight for a moment."

"I'm not a child anymore!" and the princess sounded angry for the very first time since this conversation had started. "And I have been living out of your sight for four years."

There was such resentment there, in those words, in the princess' tone. There was resentment that spanned for years and had the depth of a lifetime – one that Arya could scarcely comprehend.

These people were far more garbled and screwed up than Arya had first thought.

"And that will soon be coming to an end." The queen said, and it sounded more like a threat than a fact.

"Yes I know; the moment I marry, I shall leave the capitol for ever, gods willing." And more than hopeful, the princess sounded challenging; as sharp as her mother had.

"We shall see about that." the queen hissed… And the edge of danger vibrated between them, more alive than the song of steel had they been using swords to fight each other.

"I suppose we shall have to." The princess countered just as fast, just as hard.

The silence lasted for only a few heartbeats.

"You are such a fool, child." The queen said, sounding a little less threatening, a little more tired.

"Perhaps I am." The princess admitted softly, and it didn't sound like a jape at all. "Perhaps I'm simply not so much like you as you would like me to be… I am sorry if that gives you grief mother. I promise you, it was never my intent."

She sounds apologetic enough, as if she is at fault, or if she is trying to make peace – though Arya didn't know which was it.

The queen sighed. "Perhaps you're too much like me, and that is why we cannot meet in the middle."

Arya heard the smile in the princess' tone when she next spoke. "That does sound rather better, doesn't it?"

"I imagine so…" the queen admitted. And then. "I don't trust Ned Stark, Myrcella. The man is a fool for honour."

What?! Arya bristled and grit her teeth. That little snake!

"That is unkind, mother, even for you." The princess said, but she did not sound angry. She sounded wearied. Arya's opinion of her plundered to the dirt once more.

"I don't care. I want you nowhere near the man. Or that son of his that cannot take his eyes off you." The queen said, with suck contempt that Arya felt her blood boil. Who was she, a Lannister, to look down on either her father or her brother. A family of prideful people without honour who, at most, can only buy with their gold the respect people won't give them!

"That son you speak of is the heir of Winterfell and future heir of the North. He is a kind boy and has all the makings of an honourable man and if he pays me any attention, than I shall be flattered and honoured as it befits my station." The princess said stiffly, and it sounded like it was Arya talking.

"Have you taken a shine to the boy, Myrcella?" and it sounded almost like a taunt. Arya could almost imagine the queen's smirk, that mocking cold gaze. "Let me remind you, that you're bound for either Highgarden or Lannisport."

"I know where I am bound for better than you do, mother. After all, wombs are made to be sold, as you've always told me." the princess said with such coldness that it rivalled the queen's.

"You'd do well to remember it. It will make your life easier to bear your place in mind."

"As you have done?"

"Careful girl. You may be my daughter but I'm still your queen." And the air vibrated with a threat so real that Arya could hardly believe the ones speaking were mother and daughter. One moment they sounded like it, the next they sounded like vicious enemies.

"You are, your grace. So allow me, please, to remind your royal highness that not every one of Tywin Lannister's enemies is mine own. But what am I saying. Let me put it more cleanly: Ned Stark loves my father and he has enough patience even to be courteous to you, so…"

"You forget yourself entirely sometimes girl." the queen said with irritation that bordered on anger. "Do you think bonds of friendship rule this world?"

"Oh, worry not, I will keep a careful eye and a sharp mind because unlike your precious son, I actually like using my brain. So if you truly think that I will answer the generous hospitality of the King's most dear friend with bad grace and cold manners, just because you don't like the man, you severely mistake me, mother."

Arya found herself speechless, thoughtless. She may not have understood all those words, but she got the meaning cleanly enough, and the princess' tone was as final as her mother's was.

Was she even allowed to do that?

"You will do as you're bid Myrcella."

And here came the crux of the discussion. Arya knew it, she could feel it, even though she could hardly understand the breadth of it! But she knew enough to understand that that this was what the whole relationship between the queen and her daughter was like, always; just like hers and Sansa's centred around them not liking each other and fighting over Arya not being enough of a lady; just Arya's and her mother's centred around love and frustration and disobedience over small things.

For the queen and the princess, this was it: the queen had just given an order, and Arya… she was almost anxious to hear what the princess would say to that.

"I will do as my sense and conscience dictate, mother. Good day."

"Don't you turn away from me, girl!"

"The king sent for me quite a while ago, your grace. He is not exactly known for his patience."

Arya dared a look from through the buses and the hay. She saw the princess turn from her mother and walk towards the keep. She saw the deep frown on the princess' face, the way her eyes shined with unshed tears – Arya was surprised to see them there, she had not heard them in the princess' voice at all: she had sounded so unwavering and strong. But now she saw that the princess had her hands fisted tightly at her sides, her knuckles were white from strain and she even saw the fine tremble of them as the princess walked away.

Arya waited till she could no longer see neither the princess nor the queen before she got out of the hay. She didn't even bother to clean herself from all of it, instead choosing to run to the stables. She had to tell someone, she just had to. There is some hilarity in her now that was not there before she heard the princess speak to the queen. But she had to tell any one of her brothers because they had all thought that the queen was strong and cold and harsh and that nobody could ever say no to her… and maybe they were right, but that was because they had all thought that the princess was some silly girl like Sansa who liked nothing better than to sing and dance and laugh and sew all day. But that was a lie, and Arya had found them out.

Oh it was true enough that the queen was everything that she seemed to be: she looked as powerful as the king looked stupid, and she looked about Winterfell as if it was a miller's cottage and Arya hated her for it. Nobody ever even dared look the ice queen in the eye though, because they were afraid of her… everyone but her own daughter, who seemed to match the queen well enough, where nobody else could not. The king himself preferred to ignore his wife instead of facing her. But not their daughter though. Not the princess!

Arya laughed, descending the stairs two by two. She found Jon and Theon first, and when she saw Jon's face, so like their father's, Arya stopped to wonder if it was best just to keep it all to herself. Nobody would ever thank her for going around peeping into other people's conversations, but… but someone had to know that this lion queen was not as scary as they had first thought. That there was someone who was not afraid of her, not afraid to deny her and tease her and make her as human as the rest.

Nobody could ever not bend in front of the ice queen – but her daughter was stronger and smarter and better: Arya thought so, at least.

Someone had to know!

So Arya huddled in close to Jon and Theon (though Theon was as much of an idiot as always and barely let her talk at first) and started telling them all the conversation she heard, word for word as she'd heard it, as she remembered it. Theon laughed some places, Jon frowned most places and that was usual, but they both were so serious by the end. By the time she was done even Jon had forgotten to tell her not to eavesdrop, though Arya knew he would remember later, and that father would take issue with it and so would Robb.

"I like the princess better now." Arya declared, though that didn't mean much, since she hadn't liked her at all in the beginning (and maybe just a little bit after the feast, because Bran liked her, so she could not have been that bad). But Arya decided that, if the queen was so bent on not trusting anyone, then Arya would be the same, and would not trust the queen at all. Not even her daughter. But she could like her though! Because if she had the nerve to stand up to her mother, than the princess deserved it, even if just a little.

1 G. R. R. Marting reference there, a short story of his, that one.