What had happened?

Arya had never minded talking with commonfolk, especially those who served her family. The butcher's boy, Mycah, was about her age - maybe a bit younger. Since Sansa didn't want to spend time with her, preferring to chat inanely with her new intended, Arya had taken to speaking with Mycah about his family's work.

She pondered how different, really, it was from the work of a knight. Arya was old enough to know that knights committed acts of butchery against unarmed foes - although, she thought, this was only appropriate in wartime, and never against smallfolk. Chevauchees might seem strategically valid to Southern lords, but to a Northerner, the idea of burning crops and those that raised them seemed morally wrong. Winter was always coming, and in the long run such maneuvers would hurt the lords as well.

Mycah explained the inner workings of animals - the organs and all - and how they were to be broken down and processed. Arya listened intently, comparing what she learned from Mycah to what Jon had been teaching her, and she demonstrated a few tricks of swordplay to him that she had learned in exchange.

Unfortunately, it was during a short lesson on sword work that Joffrey and Sansa interrupted them.

"Peasant!" Joffrey said the word like a curse, drawing his own sword with the elegance of goose on ice. "Smallfolk with swords will die upon them when I am king. I'll give you one chance to drop your weapon before I gut you like the pigs you smell like."

Arya stepped between them. "Mycah and I were just playing. I showed him how to use a sword - in case he ever needs to defend himself from brigands or worse - maniac princes."

Sansa stomped her feet. "Joffrey, don't listen to her! She's always been this way. She doesn't deserve our time... we were having such a nice walk."

Joffrey, however, had his blood up. "Smallfolk have no right to defend themselves. That's what knights are for." Mycah had long since dropped his short sword, but Joffrey lunged at him anyways, trying to get around Arya, but Arya had none of it.

The two blades met, and Sansa screamed. Mycah ran for it, screaming apologies. Furious, Joffrey continued to attack Arya. Arya was scared, and weaker than Joffrey, but it almost seemed like he moved in slow motion to her - he had no finesse, no planning, and his strikes were wild and easily dodged. The more she dodged, the more he flailed, swearing angrily. Sansa continued to scream. After another dodge, Arya smacked the side of her blade on Joffrey's hand, causing him to shout and drop his sword.

"Hound! Behead her! She is trying to **** me!" Joffrey cried as Sandor entered the clearing, attracted by the commotion. Sandor sneered at the Prince, but interposed himself between the two children anyways.