Watch the duel

The girl managed to find a nice spot among some of the servants and with a good view of the courtyard. Her biggest worry was to not be seen by Septa Mordane. Arya was sure that the dry old cunt would drag her inside for needlework. The idea of enduring Sansa, Jeyne and that spoiled princess Myrcella in the same room genuinely frightened her.

"Where in the seven hells were you? You could've at least distracted him so I wouldn't get so beaten!" Arya rolled her eyes at Rickon's complaint. Her little brother, which was sprawled on the ground grabbing his leg, had grown quite a bit. But he still had many ways to go if he ever hoped to come close to Bran or her father. She glanced some of the men bringing the hurt boy to a hay pile.

She saw Jon and Bran on the middle of the courtyard. The girl was too distracted to actually hear what they were saying to each other. Thinking about how that sparring would go. The bastard was the best swordfighter she'd ever seen, yet, somehow, she had a slint of hope that her younger brother could beat him.

The Stark watched the fight start as Jon began by feigning a blow to Bran's head and then trying to sweep at his torso. Her younger brother blocked the strike without much trouble and retreated. He didn't look comfortable standing too close. One would think that'd be cowardly, but given the case he was facing Jon snow, she couldn't blame him.

The Snow seemed to play his sibling's game for a while, just testing his stance and footwork. Bran matched each of his foe's movements properly.

From what she'd seen from their practice, Arya'd reckoned that her younger brother had a fine enough defence, and the way he moved and held his stance proved that. Unfortunately for him, defence alone was not enough to best Jon Snow. The young lady knew he was not as swift as his older brother and wasn't sure if he was as strong.

She saw Jon jump forward, going for a trust. Bran slapped the slab of steel out of his face, countering with a slash which his opponent effortlessly dodged by stepping backwards.

Arya felt some worry form on the pit of her stomach, as the fight did not look to be going well for Bran. Her half-brother was always on the offensive and the young lord seemed to just barely manage to keep up. The girl didn't notice she'd started to mutter words of encouragement for him under her breath.

Thoughts of the kiss she gave him emerged inside her head. He had to know that she was watching, right? The girl didn't care if he lost, but she, in some strange way, knew he couldn't because... well... because she loved him.

"C'mon Bran, do someting..." Arya whispered.