"Bran Stark," Lucas said, turning toward the young boy sitting next to his sister. An excited and expectant smile appeared on Bran's face as he wondered what was to come.
"I have heard that you desire to be a great knight in the future," Lucas said, gesturing toward his men.
Bran nodded excitedly as the man bent down and unbolted another wooden door. He pulled an object from within, and no one needed a second glance to tell what it was: a sword inside a sheath.
Lucas took hold of the hilt and drew the glistening blade. The steel of the sword shone even in the dim light of the flame torches and candles.
"This is the finest steel and the best craftsmanship my forges and my blacksmiths have to offer," Lucas's voice boomed through the hall.
Every eye capable of recognizing quality was focused on the blade. It was a grade of steel they had never seen before. Even Ned Stark leaned in slightly, studying the sword closely. He had heard of the superior quality produced by Lord Lucas's forges, and seeing it now, he realized the steel was far better than he had ever imagined. This was the quality of steel that everyone throughout the whole of Westeros was going crazy for.
It was a longsword, around a metre in length, the standard issue for a knight. Bran's eyes lit up with excitement as he studied the blade with blazing intensity. He did not know or understand about the quality or grade of the steel but the shiny glint in the weapon was enough to make him frenzied for the sword. He was itching to take the sword into his hands and wield it a couple of times.
"This steel is not something that can be produced en masse. Very few, not even a dozen people in Westeros possess this grade of metal," Lucas announced. A murmur of relief passed through the crowd at his words.
Ned Stark heaved a sigh of relief as well as soon as he heard this. He was not sure if it was because of the magnificent gift granted to his son, or because he now knew that the rest of Westeros, barring the North, was not going to be armed with such superior steel.
If every realm in Westeros were to be armed with these kinds of weapons while the North was not, he would surely have suffered many sleepless nights.
"I am not sure when Lord Stark will allow you to wield the sword, but I hope you like this gift," he said, placing the weapon on the table.
"He will wield it when the time is right," Ned Stark chuckled, though a sharp glare from him halted Bran just as the boy was about to unsheathe the blade.
"In the morning lad," he said to his son, "under my supervision."
A bright smile appeared on Bran's face as he turned towards the man who had given the gift.
"Thank you, Lord Lucas," Bran said in a polite, courtly manner.
"Lady Arya Stark," Lucas said, facing the young lady. A bright smile appeared on her face, her eyes expectant of the gifts she was about to receive. After all, who did not like gifts?
While Lucas stood facing her, one of his men unbolted another box and pulled out Arya's gift. Small gasps echoed through the hall as the object came into full view, and the smile on Arya's face brightened even further.
It was another metal figurine, but not a knight like the one he had gifted to Rickon.
Instead, it was a large figurine of a crouching direwolf, over three feet in length and almost two feet in height. The beast was depicted in an aggressive posture, the muscles in its legs were tense as if it were ready to pounce upon its prey.
It was baring its sharp fangs, and even its claws were rendered with lethal precision. Sharp and deadly. The metal, just like the previous figurine, glinted brilliantly, showcasing the high grade of steel used to forge it.
"Though you are little," Lucas boomed, his voice snapping the hall's attention back to him, "I have heard tales of you being the 'She wolf of the North.'"
Arya giggled in response, her eyes shining. Meanwhile, even though Lucas could not see Catelyn's face with his back turned, he was certain she was not as pleased as her younger daughter.
"I assumed that things like dresses, jewelry, and perfumes would not have impressed you," Lucas continued. "So, I present this direwolf to the She-wolf of the North."
He placed the figurine on the table in front of Arya.
"Mind you," Lucas added, "this is a bit heavy for you to lift. You will need help carrying it to your room."
"Thank you, Lord Lucas!" Arya beamed with pure delight.
She was genuinely happy. Had Lucas not been cautious, he might have gifted her something else, perhaps a sword.
It would have made her even happier and suited her character better. However, giving a gift, the direwolf, that was deemed unfit for a 'proper lady' had already earned Catelyn's displeasure.
A sword would have drawn her full ire. While Lucas did not particularly care about Catelyn's reaction, he did not want to jeopardize his relationship with the family until he reached an agreement with Ned Stark. She certainly held a level of influence over her husband.
Meanwhile, as Arya basked in the pleasure of her gift, Ned wore a frown. It was not because the gift was unladylike. Personally, he would have cared little even if Lucas had handed her a blade. He was troubled by what the gift represented.
The direwolf was the sigil of House Stark, and such representations were generally reserved for the Lord of the House. Yet, Lucas had given their sigil to his second daughter and third child, rather than to him or his heir, Robb.
Furthermore, the aggressive posture of the wolf made Ned uncomfortable. He hoped that Lucas had no deeper meaning behind the selection and that it had been based purely on a whim.
He did not say anything as he saw Lucas turning towards his eldest daughter. Sansa Stark.
*
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