Anythingdrabble Challenge 116 - Precious cargo

[m_findlow]

Title: Precious cargo
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Characters/Pairings: Arya, Sansa
Word Count: 500 words
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for Challenge 116 - Present at anythingdrabble
Summary: Arya is worried about her luggage being damaged.

'What are you looking at?' Sansa asked as Arya's attention was forced to be drawn back towards her sister. She was frowning at Arya as she was so often wont to do, looking down her nose at her. She thought Arya was strange, but in truth it was Sansa who was the strange one.

'Nothing,' Arya said, letting her gaze fall back on the cart trailing behind them.

'You can't ride on a cart,' Sansa lectured her, reading her thoughts again. 'It isn't ladylike. Beside you'd end up covered in dust from the road.'

'I don't care,' Arya said, turning around to watch the cart, which had the added benefit of saving her from looking at her sister. She didn't care about being ladylike or covered in dust. Perhaps she should ask Father if she could instead ride a horse.

Every time the cart hit a rut in the Kingsroad and jolted to one side, Arya's heart leapt up into her mouth. Her trunk full of personal luggage was on that cart, and though she didn't care for the dresses inside it, she did care about the one item packed right at the bottom - her sword Needle.  

Jon had never given her a present before, but this one made up for every name day and festival all put together. Needle was her very own sword, forged especially for her. Even Bran didn't have his own sword yet.

Jon had warned her it would need to be packed very carefully, and though she knew a sword was forged to be strong in battle she knew that hers was of a different sort. It was skinny like her, light and easy to handle. She feared however that on the journey to King's Landing it might snap or bend whilst tucked away in her trunk. She wanted to carry it clipped to her side like a proper sword, but she knew she couldn't. It had to be keep secret so that no one would take it away from her. She couldn't bear the thought of having Jon's precious gift to her stolen. It was all she had to remember him by now.

When they reached the next town or holdfast, she'd be there waiting for her trunk to be moved into their tent where she would be able to check on it the moment Sansa and Septa Mordane had their backs turned. She'd struck up a friendship with a boy called Mica, the son of the butcher who was accompanying them back to King's Landing, who liked to practise swordfighting. He'd agreed to practise with her when next they were stopped, and was excited to see her sword. He'd never used anything other than a wooden staff but at least he didn't tell her it wasn't proper, or that he couldn't practise with her because she was a girl and that it wasn't fair or ladylike. He might not be Jon, but he was still more fun to hang around with than Sansa.