If you want this story to make sense for you before you begin, I suggest you read this: The Starks, Baratheons, Lannisters, and Tyrells are families of socialites that rule Manhattan. The Baratheons and Tyrells are political families (Robert is the governor of Manhattan), the Starks own a real estate industry, and the Lannisters are media moguls who own almost all the news stations, magazines, and papers in the state of New York.
This story is definitely Gendrya-centric, and Arya and Gendry are the two main characters, but the other characters' plots will be interwoven together with their story as a whole.
To see any inspiration for this story / chapter, look at the end of the chapter!
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The house was quiet.
Granted, it was a large house, but still, it was quiet. And with a family the size of the Starks, it was bound to always be noisy, especially with their dogs. And normally it was. But for some reason, every step that Arya took echoed through the halls around her.
She wasn't used to this. It was true her father, Eddard Stark, was hardly ever home. He owned Stark Industries, which was #3 on the list of Top Five Most Successful Real Estate Companies in the World. Apparently the first was somewhere in Australia. And Robb, the oldest of the Stark children, was busy learning more and more about the company every single day, something he'd been doing since he was seven, so he could take over when he was older and Ned was no longer able to run it. But her mother, Catelyn, was home most of the time. She was your typical stay-at-home mom. Sansa, Arya's older sister, was either out shopping, going on dates with her boyfriend Joffrey, or working as a journalist at Envy Magazine, owned by her best friend Margaery Tyrell. Arya herself liked to stay busy, as well, and between summer classes for college and finding a job, she wasn't home often, either. Bran, her younger brother, was getting ready to disappear to Europe to study abroad for his first year at college once summer ended. And the youngest, Rickon, wasn't yet old enough to leave as he pleased according to Cat.
Arya called out the names of each of her family members and drew her eyebrows together in confusion when she got no response. Has something happened at the company? Arya wondered to herself as she walked to the kitchen. She knew her parents had let the maids have the rest of the week off. Was her family about to enter debt? Arya's skin prickled at the thought of all her father's hard work deteriorating in front of her and she hadn't even noticed.
"Oh, you're home."
Arya jumped and turned to find her sister Sansa walking through the house with five or six grocery bags on her arms. "Sansa!"
Apparently Sansa was aware that she had given her sister a fright, because she paused and turned to her after setting the bags on the counter. "Sorry for scaring you. I thought you would have at least heard me come in to the house." She shrugged, her long red hair falling behind her shoulder, and began unloading the items from the bags. Arya moved to start helping her put everything where they belonged. "Do you know where everybody is?" Sansa asked, and when she got a shake of her head in reply, she nodded to herself and put a box of cereal in the cupboard. Together, they worked in silence until all the bags were empty and Sansa hopped up on the counter with an apple in her hand.
"Joffrey's coming over tonight for dinner," Sansa informed her, taking a bite out of her fruit.
Arya couldn't help it; she wrinkled her nose in disgust as she turned away from her sister to look through the fridge. "Do I have to be present for this dinner?" she asked snidely.
"Arya!" Sansa gasped. "He's my boyfriend. I love him. And the rest of the Baratheon's are going to be there, too. It's a family dinner."
Arya shrugged her shoulders and pulled out a carton of orange juice. "You guys have been dating for seven years, and he still hasn't asked you to marry him."
Sansa's face turned red and Arya had a feeling she had hit way below the belt this time. Sansa and Joffrey had been together since they were fifteen, and now they were twenty-two and there was still no rock on her ring finger. Arya could tell it irked her older sister to no end, but she secretly hoped that if it continued on like this, than Sansa would finally end it with him. Forget that their fathers had been best friends since childhood, Joffrey was awful and everyone knew it but Sansa.
"Joffrey loves me," Sansa whispered, and to Arya it sounded like a pathetic attempt at convincing not only her, but Sansa as well.
However, Arya felt a rush of sympathy for her older sister, so she nodded silently and disappeared up the stairs of the house. The Stark family resided in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, New York, in a large three-floor penthouse. As far as Arya was concerned, they had more than enough space to fit all eight of them, three maids, and a private swimming pool. Yes, the Stark family definitely lived comfortably and luxuriously. And even Arya had to admit, she liked her lifestyle. What was there to dislike about it? The only problem was that she knew how there were so many more people who didn't have access to a private elevator that escorted them back home every day.
Arya opened the door to her room and right away, she felt more comfortable. Her room was her personal safe haven, designed to fit her exact tastes when she turned eighteen, courtesy of her mother. It was painted a startlingly pure white and covered with pictures of vintage dancers and old movies, and books were littered everywhere, from her dressers and desk, to the bed, to her actual bookshelves.
She collapsed on her bed and kicked off her flip flops, rolling over on her stomach and taking her laptop from its charger. She logged into her Facebook a little unwillingly and looked through the various posts and photos that were in front of her. Once again, she cursed Sansa for pressuring her into doing this.
Logging out, Arya set her laptop aside and rolled off her bed, walking over to her closet. She changed out of her clothes and threw them in the laundry basket to trade them for a pair of drawstring shorts and a white tank top.
"Arya! Mom and Dad are home!" Sansa yelled from the bottom of the stairs. Arya walked to the top of the steps to glimpse her mother's red hair that matched Sansa's, and went back down to the living room.
Immediately, Cat started on her daughter. "You'll have to change," she said as a greeting. She saw Arya was going to protest (she had just changed), and interrupted before she could. "We're having guests over in a few hours! And I know Sansa told you about it."
Arya sighed and turned away from her mother, focusing on her dad. "Hi, Dad," she said, placing a kiss on his cheek.
Ned smiled at her in return and shed his suit jacket, loosening his tie.
Sansa leaned against the kitchen counter. "How was work?"
Ned automatically tensed up. "Stressful. They're all giving me problems because I want to expand the company again." Stark Industries had already expanded over half of America, but the goal was to always go bigger.
"I'm sure they'll give in sooner or later. They have to. You're their boss." Sansa flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Where's Robb?"
"Right here," a new voice announced. Arya turned around to see her older brother Robb walking into the kitchen holding hands with his fiancee Jeyne Westerling. She was a great deal smaller than him, and she looked almost delicate. But ever since Robb had proposed, Jeyne had been practically glowing. She could have been pregnant, and Arya would have suspected it herself if she didn't know any better.
Arya said a polite hello to Jeyne and Robb and managed to spend exactly eight minutes spending time with her family before Catelyn told Arya she needed to go change into something more appropriate because the Baratheons would be here soon. Arya pouted all the way upstairs and opened her closet once more, throwing off her tank top and shorts and tossing them on the floor. She went to the back of her closet, where she kept all of her clothes for nights just like these, when she needed something appropriate, and ended up pulling out a dark purple dress that came up to her knees. Right as she finished putting it on, she heard a knock on her door and turned to face the intruder.
"Hey, Arya," Jon said softly. Arya felt all the tension leave her body immediately and went over to hug him tightly. He was another older brother, but he was only her half brother, born from Ned and an unknown woman who he refused to ever talk about. The story behind Jon's birth was a complicated one, a story that Arya never truly learned, but eventually Arya got Jon to tell it to her: Two months after Robb had been born, Ned had been going on frequent business trips and eventually Cat got sick of it. Demanding they be separated, Cat kicked Ned out and Ned moved in with his brother, Benjen. About a year later, Cat came back to him only to find that he had fathered Jon and that the mother had gone into premature labor and died in birth. Refusing to give up the child, Ned convinced Cat to accept him into the family.
"You look very pretty tonight," Jon commented, looking down at her dress.
Arya fidgeted uncomfortably, picking up the sleeveless dress. She felt like it was falling down her chest and she'd be exposed any minute. "Baratheons are coming over tonight for some special dinner tonight." Her eyes brightened at the possibility of making fun of Joffrey with Jon. "Will you be there?" she asked hopefully.
Jon shook his head sadly. "No. Catelyn doesn't think it would be appropriate for me to be there tonight."
Arya scoffed in bewilderment and was about to say something but Jon cut her off with a look.
Cat may have allowed Jon to be raised as a Stark but never had Cat been able to accept him as a true member of their family. Arya felt overwhelming pity for Jon. It wasn't his fault that he had been born, and it was just another reason on the list stating things that Cat did that infuriated Arya to no end. Arya loved her brother, and thought of him as a true Stark, but Jon himself didn't seem to think of it like that. He didn't even take Stark as a last name, preferring to go by Jon Snow. Arya thought it was rather sad, but he never listened to her when she tried to convince him otherwise.
"That's hardly fair," Arya managed to get in. "You're part of the family, you should be treated like it. Doesn't matter who your parents are, you're a Stark. Just tell Dad and I'm sure he'll manage to convince her for you."
Jon shook his head. "No, I won't. I can't do that to him. I won't put myself between his wife and his son that he never meant to have." Arya punched him in the arm. "What was that for?"
"You weren't a mistake, if that's what you're thinking. It's not your fault she's coldhearted. She's the one who kicked Dad out in the first place. It was fair of him to see whoever he pleased at the time."
Jon sat down on Arya's bed and shrugged like it didn't bother him, but Arya knew better. "But she came back to him. And she was right to be upset, just a little. They did have a child together, too. And they ended up having four more. If I were Cat, I wouldn't want a reminder of my husband's past lovers living in my house."
Arya sat down next to Jon, already itching in her dress. "It isn't fair how she treats you. And you're such a stupid pushover. You just let her say whatever she wants to you. When she decides you're worth her time to speak to, anyway."
Jon gave Arya a little nudge in the shoulder and she looked up at him with sad eyes. "If you want, I'll be waiting for you by the pool when the dinner is done so that we can make fun of Joffrey Baratheon and his stupid hair gel together."
Arya laughed despite her mood and nodded. She left Jon in her room and walked downstairs to the dining room.
The Starks really did have too much of everything, Arya thought to herself as she took in the room.
It was a large room with a long cherry wood table that managed to seat twelve, one seat at each head of the table with five on either side. A large glittering chandelier sparkled above the exact center of the table, where a vase of white roses sat. Behind the table was a wall split in half: The top half was a mirror and the bottom was a buffet that jutted out from the rest of the wall and had two separate cabinets, one for the special china and that held a wine rack. It was truly a beautiful room, like the rest of the house, but it was also incredibly too expensive for Arya's tastes.
"Oh, good, you've changed," Sansa said as she came breezing through the dining room carrying a stack of plates. "I wish Dad hadn't given the maids the rest of the week off. I know they have lives of their own, but really! We're having company tonight! This is an important dinner to me, to everyone, and we're all rushing to get the work done last minute." Sansa glanced up at her sister, who was watching her set the plates down at each seat with slight distaste. "Get the soup bowls, would you please?" she asked sweetly.
Arya didn't bother to argue; she went off to get the soup bowls, along with the salad plates to keep Sansa from asking her later. Her relationship with her older sister had never been the best. They were complete opposites of each other. Sansa loved all things girly and pink, with sparkles and glitters thrown in to match. She was a hopeless romantic to the core. Arya herself preferred to work as much as she could, focusing on her classes and her dance lessons. She didn't want to have to worry about things such as boys just yet. She was only nineteen, for crying out loud!
Just as they were finishing up setting the table, a knock came on the door. Sansa squeaked girlishly, immediately smoothing out her outfit. She looked perfect, though, in a white dress with long sleeves made of lace. She had on white sandals to match, and her hair was pulled up in a nice ponytail.
The rest of the family filed into the dining room as Cat and Ned went to open the door. Sometime while Arya was getting ready and talking with Jon, Bran and Rickon had arrived home. Both were wearing freshly ironed dress shirts and their best pairs of pants.
Within a few moments, the Baratheons had entered the room: Robert, with his wife Cersei Lannister, who had reluctantly taken her husband's name at the request of her father, came in first, followed by their three children Joffrey, who gave Sansa a light kiss on her lips, Myrcella, and the youngest Tommen. The sight of them made Arya want to gag.
"Dinner is just coming out of the oven right now. Why don't you all sit and I'll sort it out?" Cat said before going back in the kitchen. Arya noticed she didn't mention the cooks had already made everything and set it aside to be heated up for this exact moment.
Ned sat at the head of the table and Robert sat at the other end, with Cersei next to him, followed by Tommen, Bran, Robb, and an empty seat to be filled by Cat. Arya took her usual seat next to Ned and cringed internally when Sansa next to her with Joffrey on her other side. Rickon sat next to Joffrey and Myrcella took a seat beside him.
When Cat brought served each person a steaming bowl of soup, Arya saw Cersei follow her mother's movements with a glint of malice in her eyes.
"Where is your help, Catelyn?" Cersei asked her. "I recall a few people lurking about the last time I was here."
Cat sat down next to her husband and picked up her soup spoon. "Yes, but Ned has let them have the rest of the week off, good man that he is. I do hope my cooking tastes as good as I hope it does."
Arya had to disguise her snort as a cough when Sansa kicked her under the table.
The dinner seemed to be going as slow as it possibly could. Arya could barely keep her eyes open or keep track of all the conversations that were going on. Cersei and Robert were muttering under their breath to each other and they appeared to be arguing but she couldn't know for sure since they were on the other end of the table. Myrcella, Rickon, Tommen and Bran had delved into a conversation all about different types of television shows they liked. Sansa and Joffrey were making eyes at each other between bites of their food, though Joffrey looked like he had smelled something bad and Sansa looked just about ready to faint. And Robb was busy discussing some business matters with Ned and Cat in between throwing threatening glares in Joffrey's general direction. Arya herself was already getting tired by the time they had reached the main course of pasta and she had barely touched her salad. She tried to ignore the looks that Cat was sending her way, silently telling her to eat her food or try to manage a smile or start a conversation. But she couldn't. The Baratheons irked Arya. They gave her an odd feeling. Robert drank too much and laughed too loud, slept with too many women that weren't his wife and caused great scenes over the smallest things. Cersei was rude and delivered backhanded compliments to everyone except her three children. And Joffrey was possibly the most rude, hateful, and meanest person to ever walk the earth. Tommen and Myrcella were okay in Arya's eyes, but she had nothing in common with them. She couldn't have a conversation with them if she tried.
Arya twirled her spaghetti around and around on her fork absentmindedly, thinking of what Jon was doing right now. He was probably in his room, watching TV or listening to music with his headphones in to block out the loud noise of the two families eating right now. She hoped he'd gotten to eat before they had arrived.
"So, Arya," Cersei began from the other side of the table. "I hear you're taking a few summer classes. Isn't that nice?" Once again, she had that look that made Arya feel self-conscious about every part of herself. "But, don't you have a major in dance at college right now? Why not the opposite? You could at least get an education and dance in your spare time."
Arya clenched her fist around her fork, and she saw Robb tense. Despite not being as close to Robb as she was with Jon, she still loved Robb and she knew how protective he was over her. So she was happy that the Baratheons weren't bothering just her tonight. Besides, it was very well known in the Stark family (And talked about in the newspapers, as well) how much pride Arya had in her dancing "I'm still taking regular courses during the school year, actually," she informed Cersei. "But I've decided to take a few summer courses in between so I can keep myself busy. And I think dancing is my first priority anyways. There's only so much I can do with knowing the difference between the mitochondria and the nucleus. I prefer dance. I'm more of an action girl."
Cersei's gaze turned hard and she sniffed once before straightening in her chair. "I bet," she commented softly. Arya got the impression that she was being sized up. "Well, I know you're very talented. So congratulations."
Arya smiled her best fake smile in return and took another bite of her pasta so she could take the time to think of what she could say without getting into trouble. "And what about your kids?" she asked, looking at each Baratheon child in turn. "What are you all studying now?"
"Well, I'm learning to prepare myself for a career in politics," Joffrey said proudly, even though everybody and their mother knew this information already. He was even stupider than Arya originally thought if he thought that could get a reaction out of any of them.
Myrcella, who was about to go into her first of college, told Arya she was going to be studying psychology, while Tommen, about to be a senior, was still taking mandatory high school courses.
Once again, Arya slowly faded out of the conversation after Cersei's attempt at a jab at her. She preferred it that way anyway. She could listen to everyone else's conversations around her.
Right now, Joffrey and Sansa seemed to be having a particularly interesting one right now.
"My father is trying his best to prepare me for this new career but I'm not even sure he knows what he's doing sometimes," Joffrey was saying. "I definitely think I'll manage just fine on my own."
Arrogant little shit, Arya thought to herself, rolling her eyes.
"Well, I'm sure you're right," Sansa gushed. "You're already practically a professional!"
Joffrey's answering smile was faker than Arya's, and she had the urge to gag again.
"I say we clear up for dessert now, shall we?" Catelyn announced. She was already rising up from her chair to take everyone's plates.
Arya and Sansa got up to help as well and Cersei herself stood, much to everyone's shock. She pretended not to notice and carried plates and silverware from the dining room to the kitchen.
Arya was bringing a stack of serving plates to the kitchen when she heard Cersei and Cat talking quietly in the kitchen about Sansa and Joffrey.
"I just can't believe Joff is going to do it tonight," Cersei was saying. For the first time since she had walked into the house, Arya noticed, she was showing emotion. And she was positively giddy with excitement.
"Are you sure tonight is the night?" Cat replied with the same amount of excitement in her voice.
"Absolutely. I went with him when he was going ring shopping. Said he needed his mother's opinion, bless his soul. He never told me when he was planning on proposing, but I saw him slip the ring box in his pocket before we left."
Arya felt like she really was going to throw up this time. She had definitely heard enough. She banged through the kitchen door, announcing her arrival quite loudly as she dropped the dishes in the sink carefully.
"Must you be so forceful and loud, Arya?" Cat sighed exasperatedly.
Offering up a quick apology, Arya dashed out of the kitchen and escaped to the bathroom. She collapsed on the edge of the bathtub, putting her head in her hands and breathing heavily. She was about to start hyperventilating if she didn't get a grip on herself soon. Arya paced the bathroom in her uncomfortable heels, thinking of what would happen when Joffrey proposed tonight.
She and Sansa had been talking about it earlier today! She had mocked her for the fact that Joffrey hadn't popped the question yet! Arya could see the image crystal clear in her mind: Sansa, giggling excitedly as she slipped the ring on her finger and tearing up as she kissed her fiancee. And then she'd look at Arya with a look in her eyes that clearly said I told you so!
There was a knock on the bathroom door and Robb told her they would be having dessert in two minutes. Arya splashed water on her face and took one last deep breath before unlocking the door and walking out rather unsteadily. She tried to right herself before she got back to the dining room. She didn't need anyone telling her off for not knowing how to walk properly in heels.
Dessert was a heated brownie cake with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top, and normally Arya would have devoured it in five seconds but she could barely manage to touch her spoon. She forced a few bites down before setting it down on the table and subtly pushing the small dessert bowl away from her. Only Robb noticed, and he gave her a questioning tilt of his head. Arya shook her own, closing her eyes as she felt a headache coming on.
After dessert had been had, the girls once again cleared the table as the men went to sit in the living room together. Arya was still on edge. When, exactly, did Joffrey plan on proposing to Sansa tonight?
The answer came exactly seven and a half minutes later.
The two families were gathered in the living room together, having their own conversations, when Joffrey cleared his throat loudly. "Excuse me," he said clearly. Arya could have sworn her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. "I have something I need to say."
Cersei clasped her hand to her heart. Ned tensed up, gripping the armchair of the seat he was occupying and Arya realized Joffrey had already spoken to him about this before.
Joffrey got up and went over to Sansa, who was talking to Myrcella about things she could do with her hair now that it was getting longer. He took her hand in his and brought her up to stand in front of her. "Sansa. I love you. I have since the first moment I could even understand what that word meant. We've known each other literally our whole lives, and I know how lucky I am to have the privilege of saying that. We've been together for seven years and they've been the happiest seven of my entire life. But I know that there's only one way to make me even happier." He took out the small black velvet box from his pants pocket and bent down on one knee, opening it to reveal a large sparkling diamond ring. Sansa let out a small sound from the back of her throat, her eyes welling up with tears. She covered her mouth with one hand as Joffrey took the other to place the ring on her finger. "Say you'll marry me, Sansa Stark. Say you'll marry me and be known as Sansa Baratheon, and make me the happiest man on the face of the planet."
A sick, twisted part of Arya was begging Sansa to say no, to throw the ring in his face and tell him to get out of here, but Arya knew that Joffrey had Sansa fooled. And she knew it would never happen.
"Yes!" Sansa cried, a smile practically breaking her face in half. "Yes, I'll marry you!"
As Joffrey slipped the ring onto her older sister's finger, Arya felt her eyes close, her heart stop, and her entire body to paralyze. She knew it was going to happen the moment she overheard Cersei talking about it, but she was still more disappointed than she'd ever imagined she could be.
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Don't worry, Gendry will be showing up in the next chapter! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter and you come back for more when I update the second one! I'd be really happy if you left a comment, bookmarked it, or left a kudos.
A lot of this chapter was written while listening to the Cinderella trailer music for the 2015 movie, and the featured Spotify playlist, Teen Party.
Thanks for reading!