She follows her brother to the armoury

The food tasted very good. She'd stuffed herself with it as much as she could, which had earned a look of disgust from both Myrcella and her sister. To seven hells with both of them, Arya cursed them mentally. Sansa was insufferable as always, pestering the princess with questions about Jeoffrey. The Baratheon behaved like a snob and dismissed most of the redhaired's interactions, much to her dismay.

The Stark could tell, however, that the princess was just as spoiled as her own sister. Apparently, the blonde was disgusted with whichever cooking the North had to offer her, complaining that King's Landing offered better feasts. Arya tried not to take that insult to her ancestral homeland personally. After all, she had similar thoughts about southerners.

Sick at the thought of having to endure a session of needlework with both those girls, the young lady decided to sneak into the armoury to catch a glimpse of Bran. Her dress made it a bit difficult as she would occasionally step on her own skirt. The Stark had been sucessful in sneaking in however, climbing a window to get there.

She saw her brothers from a corner, Bran seemed to have trouble putting his protective gear on. Arya overheard Jon and Rickon offering help, to which he then refused. Once Jon and Rickon were gone and she believed that she and her sibling were the only ones there, she decided to make her way to him, bringing his training sword as well.

"You should tie it less tight on your upper body." She suggested him, making her presence known. The girl experimented with the sword in her hands in the meantime, liking the feeling of holding a blade. So unfair that her father never let her play with one as well.

"You're wearing something different today." She heard him comment. A feeling of insecurity growed inside Arya. What had made her pick that stupid dress anyway? The thought of being the silliest girl in Westeros running inside her head.

"Wh-what? Y-you don't like it?" The girl asked, trying to contain this unexplained worry.

"No, no. It fits you... perfectly." The young lady felt a huge weight being lifted off her chest. It was replaced with this strange feeling within the pit of her stomach.

There was also this sudden opinion that wearing dresses like that from time to time wouldn't be so bad. Especially if Bran found her pretty wearing them. Arya contained a girly giggle, just noticing that she had a stupid timid smile on her face.

"Sorry for last night." She heard him break the silence.

"Sorry? Sorry for what?" She replied genuinely confused. Why would he be sorry for the most amazing night she had in her entire life?

"Isn't it dangerous when a man... you know..." He seemed to be having trouble finding the right words.

"Ahhhh, that." Arya started giggling and chuckling, her brother and his sense of honour were so cute sometimes. Old Nan shouldn't have put that many stories in his head when he was younger.

"Oh Bran, do you know how many of the servants do it like that? You don't see all of them with child, now do you?" She calmed him, the thought of bearing offspring a foreign concept for her. What would be the chances anyway?

"Ehmm, no?" He answered her. Arya suspected that no one ever taught her brother how that worked.

"Exactly, and as long as you keep your mouth shut nothing bad will come of it."