Nights Watch Series

Management

Arya was pacing back and forth in Sansa’s loft.  Robb was perched on a chair, while Bran and Rickon were passed out somewhere in the back.  Sansa’s neighbors, Jon Snow and Samwell Tarly, were sitting on the couch on either side of her.  All four pairs of eyes watched as Arya just kept pacing.  Her phone cell phone stationed in the middle living room table.  Arya's eyes never left sight of the object.    

 

“There is no way they are going to accept me.  I’m too young, inexperienced.  Isn’t that right Jon?”  She said pausing to look at the curly haired man, who was keeping calm even though everyone else seemed very nervous.  Jon moved his arm from the back of the couch to scratch his beard.  A nervous habit he got into, when he started to grow it out.  Everyone was looking at him.  Jon didn’t do well with the questions from the press and so the seriousness, even if it was foolish asked out of desperation, was still making him sweat.  

 

“They are going to accept you.  You were the best applicat.  I know, you kicked my ass in practice.”  He responded after Sansa hit his leg to speak.  Forgetting that his silence was only going to keep her lingering feelings of anxiety only escalate further.  

 

“But the “Nights Watch” has never had a female manager before.”  Arya retorted back.  Her nervous motion resumed with picking up more speed.  “Not to mention, the only other team I managed before this was last season, and it was the girls team up farther north.”  

 

“But your coaching technique and tactics, offensive and defensive, will definitely mean we will have a better chance at winning the championship.  Hell even getting into the qualifications for the championship.”  Robb put his two cents in.  His main goal was to try and calm down his little sister.  He himself had these fears a couple of years ago, when he was picked as the youngest candidate to get the lead position for the Nights Watch Crows, Medical Sports team.  The only two to not say anything were Sansa and Sam.  Sam was too scared that Arya was going to yell at him like she did when he told her to sit down, so he kept quiet.  Sansa on the other hand kept her eyes locked at the small device, as if she could make it ring with her mind. For this anxiety attack Arya was having to be over, before her own was brought on.  Her mind was racing from multiple things, especially if Arya made the position.  It put her in a difficult situation.  Not glancing up to look at the strong girl, Sansa started to speak, if even to calm her own nerves.    

 

“Arya, you have held the title as the leading female striker for the five years you played, and also hold the record for most in a career.  Not to mention how last year you were one score away from beating Daenerys Targaryen, who holds the same title in Essos your last season.  You are going to get this.  When it comes to football, you know what your talking about and you know how to win.  That is what brings a team together.  A strong leader, and you are just that.”   Standing up and putting her hands on her sister's shoulders to get her to stop pacing.  The motion was bound to be irritating the knee injury that made her retire from playing and move on to managing in the first place.   

 

“Besides you know each players weakness and strengths so you know how to make them better and how to those to an advantage.”   Sam said finally found his courage after everyone else spoke.  Arya let out a frustrated sigh as she went over to where Sansa was sitting and slammed herself down on the couch.  Burying her head into the back padding of the furitanture.  

 

“I’ll go get the cookies I baked last night.” Sansa announced, with a knowing smile sliding on her face.  Arya looked up at her sister not moving from her slumped position.  If this wasn’t a stressful moment, Sansa would laugh at her sister, acting like a five year old.