For Want of a Better King

The Sewers of Fleabottom

Arya

She made it a point to go down to the dungeons to inspect the prisoners, claiming it was a mission of goodwill. She came with little breads filled with cheese. Yoren wanted men for the wall, and she would find him some, but she would also check to make sure it was their choice. The guards were skeptical, but allowed her through. It helped that she gave them each some bread as she passed.

Some of the prisoners whistled at her and made kissing noises, others loudly exclaimed their desire to 'fuck the shit out a' her' and she was almost sorry she had come. But she promised to undertake this task, and so she would. Lately she'd been doing more and more for her father, double checking numbers, proofreading public announcements, and organizing paperwork. And here she was doing legwork, a grand start in the dungeon; she wore a hood to cover her face, but it did not hide her figure.

She was nervous, but got down to business. She announced the offer with only a slight shake in her voice- 'Any man may choose to take the black.' Some were hesitant but most were anxious to leave the dungeon. She took names, asked backstories, made sure they truly wanted to take the black, and promised to notify and remaining kin if there were any.

In the far back were three men. One was missing part of his face, another had teeth that stuck out at odd angles, giving him a rat-like appearance. The third though, he had two toned hair, half white and half red, a dark crimson, with striking eyes, he sat calmly, and introduced himself formally.

"This man has the honor of being Jaquen Haq'ar. And what name could possibly come to signify the lovely girl before me?" He asked as he bit into a bread roll.

"I'm Arya." Not giving him a last name. She was put off by his courtesy.

"Well lovely girl, it is truly a privilege to gaze upon a face such as yours before being sent off to the icy wall, surrounded by men. And the bread is even warm." She had forgotten about keeping her hood in place.

He was so well spoken. She thought he'd do quite well against Varys, Tyrion, or Littlefinger in terms of riddles.

"They have good food at the wall. Do you mean to volunteer?" She clarified.

"Take the black or they take my head, not much of a choice really. But still a choice."

"Yes, I suppose." She didn't ask him any more questions, and left it at that. The other two agreed as well. And while most of the recruits weren't particularly promising in terms of valor, she had a good number pledged, and was glad to send word to Yoren.

That night she was invited to dine with the royals, she was pleased to see her father there as well, she was even seated next to him. For the occasion, she had chosen a dark green dress, the serving girl said it looked very nice with her hair.

The King was already mostly drunk, and grumbled about the pressures of the throne. Myrcella picked at her lemon butter trout with braised asparagus, she didn't like asparagus. The Queen asked her children what they learned in their lessons.

"We learned all about the rebellion of The Iron Islands. Why would they even try something so stupid?" Tommen asked, flabbergasted.

"They're impulsive, they lack the appropriate sense of consequence." Ned remarked.

"That's one way to put it. More balls than brains, is what I say. And that ward of yours, Theon. Is he as cocksure as the rest of them?" The King questions, pieces of something sitting in his beard.

"He is cocky, Your Grace, but a good lad. We raised him since he was small. He and Robb are like brothers."

"Like we were?"