Lady/Apprentice Smith
Harwin went to one knee before her. “Arya Stark, of Winterfell.”
“I did my work, is all. Bellows and tongs and fetch and carry. I was ‘sposed to be an armorer, […]”
With Family/Orphaned
She looked glumly at her sister. Sansa was chatting away happily as she worked. […] The boys were at practice in the yard. She wanted to see Robb put gallant Prince Joffrey flat on his back. […] Jon grinned, reached over, and messed up her hair. […] It wasn’t Septa Mordane waiting in her room. It was Septa Mordane and her mother.
“She died when I was little. She had yellow hair, and sometimes she used to sing to me, I remember. She worked in an alehouse.”
Too Skinny/Strong
“You’re too skinny,” he said. He took her arm to feel her muscle. Then sighed and shook his head. “I doubt you could even lift a longsword, little sister, never mind swing one.”
The master called over a tall lad about Robb’s age, his arms and chest corded with muscle. […] “This is Gendry. Strong for his age, and he works hard […]”
Criticised/Praised (by the person, who was given their work)
The septa examined the fabric. “Arya, Arya, Arya,” she said. “This will not do. This will not do at all”
Ned turned the helm over in his hands. It was raw steel, unpolished but expertly shaped. “This is fine work. I would be pleased if you would let me buy it.”
The Coat of Arms/The Swords
“That would look silly. Besides if a girl can’t fight, why should she have a coat of arms?” Jon shrugged. “Girls get the arms but not the swords. Bastards get the swords but not the arms. I did not make the rules, little sister.”
“If the day ever comes when Gendry would rather wield a sword than forge one, send him to me. He has the look of a warrior. […]”















