At King’s Landing in Ned’s quarters. Arya and Sansa await as their father limps forward, using his cane for assistance.
Eddard Stark: I’m sending you both back to Winterfell.
Sansa Stark: What?!
Eddard Stark: Listen –
Sansa Stark: What about Joffrey?
Arya Stark: Are you dying because of your leg? Is that why you’re sending us home?
Eddard Stark: What? No.
Sansa Stark: Please, Father. Please don’t.
Arya Stark: You can’t. I’ve got my lessons with Syrio. I’m finally getting good.
Eddard Stark: This isn’t a punishment. I want you back in Winterfell for your own safety.
Arya Stark: Can’t we take Syrio back with us?
Sansa Stark: Who cares about your stupid dancing teacher? I can’t go. I’m supposed to marry Prince Joffrey. I love him and I’m meant to be his queen and have his babies.
Arya Stark: Seven hells.
Eddard Stark: When you’re old enough, I’ll make you a match with someone who’s worthy of you, someone who’s brave and gentle and strong –
Sansa Stark: I don’t want someone brave and gentle and strong. I want him! He’ll be the greatest king that ever was, a golden lion, and I’ll give him sons with beautiful blond hair.
Arya Stark: The lion’s not his sigil, idiot. He’s a stag, like his father.
Sansa Stark: He is not. He’s nothing like that old drunk king.
Eddard Stark: Go on, girls. Get your septa and start packing your things.
Sansa Stark: Wait!
Arya Stark: Come on! (dragging Sansa)
Sansa Stark: It’s not fair!
The two exit Ned’s room and close the door behind them.
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