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Winter Is Coming: Arya Stark 1

“No, you’re not using your hips enough,” Draugur lectured as he slid behind me and used his hands to pivot my arm and hips in a slow motion punch.

“It’s a punch, what do my hips have to do with it?” I asked, studiously ignoring the way my skin grew hot under his fingers.

“When you shoot a bow, do you just use your arms, or do you brace with your legs?” he asked.

“Brace with my legs, but when I punch I don’t have to struggle to pull back a string.”

“True, but the basic principle is the same. With a proper stance and punching form, you’ll be able to put all of your weight into a punch, which will make the person on the receiving end regret it that much more.”

“How come?” I asked, mostly because it was interesting and not because I liked watching the way he emphasized things with his hands when he got really into a topic.

“The amount of damage dealt by a blow, be it a punch, sword, axe, kick, or whatever, is based on three key factors: how fast it’s moving, how much weight is behind it, and how small the point of contact is. An arrow is lighter than an axe, but it moves a lot faster and all the potential damage is concentrated on a single point. The same principle applies to unarmed combat, but with some limitations. In theory, having a single knuckle out from the rest of your fist will let you deal significantly more hurt to the other guy with a punch, but we don’t do that. Care to guess why?”

Sansa wouldn’t know, but I already did after listening to Theon punch a wall and swear, “That’s a good way to get a broken finger.”

“Exactly!” I very much did not blush at his praise. “Now, there’s as many, if not more, styles of unarmed combat as there are sword styles. While considering the strengths and weaknesses of your body, what sort of style do you think I’ll be teaching you?”

I thought about it. I was fast, small, and there was a reason I was known as ‘Arya Underfoot’. But, taking into account what he’d said about weight…

“It’s going to be something that focuses on not being hit?” I guessed, looking up at him as he gave a toothy grin.

“Correct! Now, having a weapon is almost always better than not, but it would be a waste of time on both our parts to try to teach you something better suited to someone with my sort of build,” he said, ruffling my hair.

I shoved his arm away, frowning (not pouting) at him. Chuckling, he had me get back into the stance, but before we could continue, Mother all but stormed into the clearing.

“Arya! You were supposed to be with Septa Mordane for your lessons,” Mother said as she glared at Draugur.

Draugur blinked, before looking at me with a half scolding, half teasing look on his face, “I was told you had finished your lessons for the day, it seems I was lied to.”

“I didn’t lie!” I argued, even though I knew it wouldn’t work. “I just… left out that I had lessons with Septa Mordane after Maester Luwin’s.”

Draugur gave a nod with an understanding noise, “The old and venerable art of the lie of omission. The important word there being lie.”

“Off you go, Arya,” Mother ordered. “And wear something far more appropriate than riding leathers.”

Sighing in frustration, I walked past Mother, only to pause after I turned the corner, but could still hear them.

“Stay away from Arya you sick piece of filth!” Mother snarled, making me blink in surprise at the sheer amount of hatred in her voice. She didn’t even talk to Jon like that.

“Someone’s walking a bit carefully. Revy finally got it figured out and, I quote, ‘pound you like a whack a mole’?” Draugur uncaringly drawled back, the sound of shuffling fabric making me think he was sitting on the ground.

I was so busy trying to figure out what a whack a mole was I almost missed Mother’s response, “I don’t want you to come anywhere near any of my children. It’s bad enough what you’ve already done. But if I catch you…”

“If you catch me, you’ll what? Get the one man in Winterfell who can stop me? What was his name again? Oh right, ‘Michael McDoesntexist.’ Face it, little kitten, there is quite literally nothing you can do to stop either one of us from doing what we want. And since we’ve got about thirty six hours until the gauntlet begins, I’m going to get the most valuable person with the Stark name in my retinue one way or another.”

Mother didn’t respond for a few minutes, before saying, “You are worse than a bastard.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. I punched a man so hard I grabbed his spine even though he was wearing a breastplate and I felt more annoyed at having to clean the blood off my hand than anything else. I know I'm a monster, I just can't be bothered to care.”

I blinked in surprise at what Draugur claimed to have done, but… I believed him. Hearing Mother leaving, I scurried away, taking a shortcut to the room I shared with Sansa.

[hr][/hr]

After dinner, much better now than it used to be before Draugur had shown up, I sat next to Bran as Father told us a story about the Long Night, about Brann the Builder. I’d heard the story before, from Old Nan, but it was nice to hear it in Father’s voice, his rough yet warm tones making it harder to stay awake. Still, after the story, when we were sent to bed, I didn’t go to the room I shared with Sansa.

On top of Sansa acting weird lately, I wanted to ask Draugur about his conversation with Mother. It didn’t make any sense, and I’d gotten more straight answers out of Draugur than I’d gotten from Mother, despite only knowing him for a few days. So, avoiding the occasional guards and servants, I made my way down to the servant quarters where Draugur and his wife Talia had been staying.

I reached their room only to pause as a strange noise emanated from within the room. Quietly walking up to the door, I placed my ear against it and listened closely. There was a lot of grunting, both Draugur and Talia, and the sounds of… it sounded like… were they?

Carefully, I opened the door and peeked into the room. Almost immediately I felt my blood rushing to my cheeks, and it wasn’t because Draugur and Talia were fucking, because that most certainly wasn’t what they were doing. No, instead they were sparring, fists and feet flying about in a dizzying display of speed and skill. But what had me blushing, despite my distaste for anything lady-like, was the fact that Dragur was completely shirtless.

My eyes roamed over his form, muscles clearly defined and outlined in sweat that gleamed in the candle light. The way he easily moved and weaved around Talia’s punches and kicks, a confident smirk on his face. It was… incredible. Talia moved fast enough I had a hard time following her attacks, but Draugur was keeping pace, even making it look easy. The thought of being that good, that skilled… I felt weird, something I never had, my stomach was fluttering, a tingling lower down…

I didn’t understand why my hand trailed down, pressing at my quim through the dress I had to wear, but the pressure felt good. So as the husband and wife sparred, I kept pushing, until my hand slipped. I brought my hand back up, and pressed on my quim again, and again it slipped. I’d be getting frustrated, but when my fingers slipped and slid along my mount, it felt really good.

By this point, Draugur had one of Talia’s legs pinned between his arm and side, keeping her from using it and forcing her to balance on just her left leg. As a side effect of this, the skirt she was wearing was pooled up at her waist, and I could just barely see the glistening of wetness between her legs.

Despite only having a single arm to defend himself with, Draugur still easily blocked and parried each and every punch that Talia threw at him. It was beautiful, the skill, the strength, the endurance, the… everything.

My mouth was dry, something was tightening in my stomach, but I couldn’t stop watching and pushing on my quim. My fingers pressed against something small and hard at the top of my quim, and the tightness that I’d been feeling suddenly snapped, and stars danced across my vision. My body locked up, and it was all I could do to ride through the strange feelings coursing through me.

Draugur 2

I admit, I wasn’t expecting Arya to fall into our bedroom while Talia and I were in the middle of our foreplay. But, this was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. Letting go of Talia’s leg, I jerked my head towards where I was keeping the extra Tempest Jewelry before moving to pick up the still out of it preteen, soon to be assassin and placed her on our bed. Talia soon arrived and easily slipped a choker around the girl’s neck, the clasp disappearing and the amber gem glowing lightly. Smirking, I considered how to proceed.

I could just dom-fuck her until the binding took, but I wasn’t positive that the protections from Sexual Calibration would work since she wasn’t yet part of my harem. Still, I had Sticky Fingers and Don’t Stand So Close To Me, so a massage framed in the form of teaching her about her body would probably do the trick.

“Wakey, wakey, Arya,” I said softly while gently shaking her shoulder. I knew she wasn’t asleep, but it fit anyway.

Still, it seemed to work, and Arya blinked a few times before bringing her arm up and rubbing at her eyes, before freezing as she smelled the trace amount of her juices that had soaked through her sleep dress. Her arm came down, her eyes locked on her hand, before slowly moving to look at me. Her face turned a luminescent red, and she fumbled a bit while trying to think of some way to talk her way out of the situation she was in.

“Draugur… it isn’t… I wasn’t… I didn’t mean…” Arya stammered, making me chuckle.

“It’s alright, though the what you were doing is pretty obvious,” I said while pointing to the crotch of her dress, which now had a large wet patch.

“I-I-I…”

“I said it’s alright. Was that your first time doing that?”

Arya blushed and looked away, embarrassed beyond all belief. But I’d take that as a yes.

“If you’d like,” I said with a bit of fake hesitance, “I can show you something that’d be better. It’s called a full body massage, and I’ve been told that when it comes to giving them my fingers are like magic.”

“It’s very true,” Talia chimed in, sitting in a chair by the bed. “He is very good with his hands. I can attest to that.”

“Um… alright?” Arya hesitantly agreed, which was all that I needed.

“Right then, first off, Take the dress off and lay flat on your stomach, I’ll look away if it makes you feel more comfortable,” I said as I turned around.

My ears were more sensitive now than they’d ever been before taking this arrangement, and after a few moments I heard the rustling of fabric and a body moving, before Arya hesitantly called out, “O-okay.”

Turning around, I was greeted by the sight of Arya laying on the bed Talia and I’d been using, a pair of plain, roughspun panties (whatever the locals called them, they were panties) being the only thing covering her skin. Arya at this age wasn’t some pinnacle of beauty, she was bony and a bit gangly, but it was a nearly naked female on my bed waiting for my attention, that was enough for the little guy downstairs.

Still, there’d be time for that later. Right now, I was going to give the girl a massage until she was mine, then I was going to fuck her brains out once I was sure Sexual Calibration would make everything kosher… so to speak.

“Prepare to feel like a puddle of goo,” I said as I rubbed my hands together to make sure they were warmed up before reaching over and starting on Arya’s shoulders.