Author's Note: Written for the got_exchange on Livejournal for lilyofdiamonds. The prompt was:

Nymeria's wolf pack functioning as an army and sort-of working with people (possibly under Arya's dubious control). e.g. against the wights, Freys, retaking Winterfell, etc

Gendry pretty much walked into my mind, made me change prompts and insisted he be the focus of this one-shot. Many thanks to schattenfalke for beta'ing this for me.

Disclaimer: I'm not GRRM, this one-shot is not nearly disturbing enough for his Arya story arc.

Amends

"Gendry!"

He heard Jeyne's exasperated shout over the banging of his hammer. Sighing, he put down the plate of armour. It still had half a dozen dents.

Gendry grimaced and shivered as the arctic air hit as he left the warmth of his forge. Winter had well and truly come, something he could never think without a twinge of sadness. It made him remember Arya and how she disappeared. When the news of the Hound's atrocities in Saltpans had reached him, he had no longer hoped she had survived. He didn't like to think about what she could have suffered at the hands of that butcher; it made his head whirl and his heart ache.

Stomping across the snowy yard, he rounded the front of the main building of the inn run by the Heddle girls and stopped in surprise. There was the giant she-wolf again, standing guard over an elk carcass, several of her pack lurking in the shadows of the tree line where they had obviously come from, eyes gleaming out from the gloom.

Jeyne was standing, hands on hips. "It won't let me near," she said, gesturing to the wolf, a disgruntled expression on her face.

It was the seventh time in three months that the wolf had shown up, dragging a fresh kill with her and Gendry was still at a loss as to why.

The first time the wolf had appeared, the kids had come screaming into the yard, several crying hysterically, begging him to get rid of the beast come to feast on them. Picking up his hammer, he had strode out, ready to confront the wolf, only to find she had nudged the dead sheep towards him before slinking back into the woods, her eyes never leaving his.

Now, the children knew that the she-wolf's arrival meant fresh meat, something rare enough these days, with the Riverlands ravaged and winter set in, and they would crowd around the entrance to the inn, their eyes greedily tracing over the kill, licking their lips.

However, they also knew not to get too close. For some reason, the wolf would only allow Gendry to take the meat. Any time Jeyne or Willow had attempted it, the wolf bared her teeth, a menacing growl erupting from her throat.

Today, it seemed no different.

"Hello, friend," Gendry said softly as he warily approached. He never forgot that the she-wolf was a wild animal with a large pack that would happily rip him apart for a warm meal at any point.

"Thank you," he said, wrapping two hands around front and hind hooves, ready to drag the carcass into the kitchen to be butchered.

It was by far the largest animal she had bequeathed them and with Jeyne's careful husbanding, the meat could last them for a week, even with the many hungry mouths that always needed to be fed.

Gendry looked straight into the wolf's eyes. "I'm not sure why you do this, but we appreciate it all the same."

He had said the same each and every time she came since her second arrival. Almost as if nodding in recognition, the she-wolf dropped her head before turning back into the woods. Her pack waited for her to gain the tree line before they disappeared back into the darkness.

"You say that every time," Jeyne said, irritation lacing her tone. "It's not as if she understands you."

Gendry shrugged. He was not sure why he did it, only that the animal did not appear stupid. There was something about her presence that made him feel she could understand. "Makes more sense to thank her than it does for her to bring us meat. We should be easy pickings for her pack, but she's taking care of us for some reason."

Ignoring his words, Jeyne called for two of the larger boys to help him drag the elk around the back to the kitchen. Gendry wasn't offended. He knew Jeyne hated things she couldn't understand and the wolf's behaviour was strange.

He didn't dare tell Jeyne that he had his suspicions as to just what the she-wolf was and who she belonged to. He remembered the stories a girl had once told him about her direwolf.

The men arrived a sennight later, causing unease in the inn amongst the children. Not that Gendry felt any different, he was just unwilling to show it. If he appeared scared then the children would become even more worried. Jeyne, too, had her cheerful face on. The one that told him she was as fearful as any of the children, anxious at how the situation could turn out. Armed men were always to be treated with suspicion. It was better to be safe than sorry.

Taking his lead from Jeyne, Gendry put on a jovial face, grabbing a horn of ale, and joining the men at the long bench that ran down the middle of the tavern. He had found it was the best way to ferret information out about the wider situation in Westeros.

Since the arrival of the Dragon Queen who now sat the Iron Throne, the threat from marauding soldiers pillaging the land had ceased. The Lannisters had been defeated along with the Tyrells and the Targaryen flag flew once more over the ashes of what had once been Westeros. However, a shadow crossing the weak sun was still enough to have the smallfolk looking up in terror in case it was a dragon. Too many had lost their lives or been burnt out of their villages for the fright to truly go away, even if the dragons were reputed to be in the Dragon Pit.

However, even in peace, there were some who sought to take what they wanted through force. Looting and theft was still a problem, especially when food was scarce, which it was in the Riverlands. At least, Gendry was big enough to make most travellers think twice about taking advantage of this menagerie of orphans. He found his height and bulk meant he was able to intimidate the majority of those who thought to try and take advantage of the two Heddle sisters. When he paired this with his hammer, only the desperate attempted to fight, and they were usually the easiest to defeat. It was the main reason he had decided to stay at the inn. These children had no one to defend or care about them.

That and the guilt that you feel for choosing the Brotherhood over Arya, the little voice in his head said, sounding suspiciously like his lost friend. He should never have chosen to become a knight. What good had it done him in the end anyway? He was still a bastard in a destroyed land.

"-Bastard Lord Commander has called all able men to come north."

The words broke into Gendry's thoughts and he looked over at the man dressed in rough spun wool speaking to Jeyne, who was ignoring the way he leered down the top of her dress.

"What?" he asked.

The man gave a laugh and rolled his eyes at Jeyne. "Your mister's a bit slow, ain't he?"

Gendry bristled at the words but he didn't need the warning look Jeyne sent his way or to correct the man's assumption. He found posing as her husband was the best way to protect her from the advances of lusty men passing through and looking for a warm body to fill their bed.

"I was just telling your wife how the Dragon Queen called her lords to the north to the Wall. The Night's Watch needs help to defeat the Others," he said before he laughed loudly. "Grumpkins and Snarks if you ask me, but Lord Commander Snow has her convinced. I hear she's supplying the Night's Watch with good provisions."

Gendry looked at the filled tavern room. There were a good few men, about two dozen in total. It was the most he had seen since the Brotherhood had disappeared. Most looked like smallfolk in need of a good meal, but there was a hedge knight or two dispersed among them. Food was a real problem in the Riverlands. The crops had been destroyed by the War of the Five Kings and winter had come before peace was established and new crops could be planted. Gendry had come across more than one corpse dead from starvation whilst out hunting.

"Lord Commander Snow? Would that be Jon Snow? Eddard Stark's bastard?"

"Aye," the man replied, spitting out the side of his mouth.

It was strange to hear of Jon Snow now. Back when he was travelling with Arya, she had been full of tales about her bastard brother who manned the Wall. She spoke more fondly of him than any of her other family. He wished they had headed that way after all. Then they would never have met the Hound.

"And he calls for men?" Gendry asked, ignoring the suspicious glance Jeyne sent his way.

"Plenty of gold in it if you make it," the man said, eyeing him in interest. "Could probably do with a strong man like you."

Gendry just nodded and withdrew from the conversation.

The men left the next morning, but the residual guilt ever present in his gut meant he was unable to dismiss the insane idea of following them. He could think of little else over the next few days. Jon Snow was calling for aid and Jon Snow had been Arya's favourite brother. It seemed fitting that he would answer the call. Not for the Night's Watch, even if he was meant to have been one of them, not for the gold, which would be more than welcomed for the children, but for Arya.

As they sat eating a hearty stew enriched with the bones of the elk the wolf had brought, Gendry looked at Jeyne out of the corner of his eye. They had become close, like the sister he had always wanted, and she depended on him. Leaving her to run this inn on her own would be a fresh betrayal and he didn't need any more of those.

Not if you asked Wyk to come, the voice in his head said once more.

Wyk was a possible solution. The young man had taken a fancy to Jeyne and was strong and decent, more than capable of keeping Jeyne, the orphans and the inn safe. A husband would keep her safe and Gendry leaving might give him the confidence to speak to Jeyne about marriage.

The idea to go north had taken a strong hold. To leave here and do something, to help Arya's family the way he had not been able to help her, would give him that sense of closure he was desperate for.

He'd always been a solitary figure, his mother dying when he was young, and even when he'd had an apprenticeship with Tobho Mott, a bastard from Flea Bottom didn't have much security or many friends. The he'd met Arya and for the first time, even if only for a short moment, he had felt like he had belonged somewhere, even as they travelled through the death and destruction of the war.

The Brotherhood had seduced that away from him, holding out the ideal of becoming a knight, having a name other than just 'Gendry'. His own insecurities had surfaced the closer they came to Riverrun. Once Arya was back in the midst of her family, there would be no place for him. He would be reduced to being just a bastard once more. It was this that had prompted him to stay with the Brotherhood, to accept the knighthood from Lord Beric.

But every time the wolf came, he was reminded of the little girl he had ditched for the prospect of a name. The pack's loyalty to their leader wasn't lost on him either. He should have been loyal to Arya, given her the same loyalty she had shown him.

He had tried to do better, to remain with the Heddle girls when he realised that the inn was in need of a strong protector. But now, the prospect of going north and giving aid to Arya's bastard brother felt like an opportunity to stem the guilt that never left him, even after all this time. But he would leave the girls without someone to protect them. He could not see them suffer at the hands of another Hound the same way Arya had.

As he finished the heal of his bread, Gendry wiped his mouth on his sleeve and rose, preparing to close the forge down for the night, wanting the mindless task to help him get his thoughts in order. As he passed into the yard, a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind.

"I know what you're planning," Jeyne said, a disapproving frown on her face.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play stupid with me, Gendry. You're planning on leaving to join that bastard Lord Commander and it's because of iher/i."

Gendry's head snapped back. He had never mentioned Arya to Jeyne, not even in the early days when they would get a little tipsy together to try and cope with the weight of authority that rested on their shoulders. A few times this had ended with Jeyne in his lap, his hands on her teats, but they soon realised it was comfort rather than passion and had slipped into a sibling-like relationship.

"Who's her?" he asked.

"Arya Stark," she said, her arms folded across her chest. "You think I don't know all about that and whatever latent feelings you might have for the girl? Tom and Lem told me all about it and I know you feel guilt for what happened to her, but running off to the frozen wastelands of the North to serve her bastard brother isn't going to bring her back."

Gendry pushed her hand aside. "I don't know what you are talking about." He was not going to discuss Arya with Jeyne.

He turned back to face the yard, ready to stride off to the forge, when Jeyne came running around him to stand in front, her hands on her hips. "Don't do this, Gendry. Don't leave us to go and die."

"You heard him," he said, throwing his arms up in frustration, almost willing her to understand his need to do this, and not make him feel worse for thinking of walking out on them. "They need men to defend the realm. Did you know I was to go to the Night's Watch once upon a time? If the Lannisters hadn't attacked us then I would've been there already. Do you know why they attacked us? Because the Lannister Queen wanted me. Yoren didn't even ask why, he refused to hand me over, said I was a recruit for the Night's Watch and they didn't involve themselves in matters of the realm. He died for that, Jeyne, rather than hand me over."

He would not speak of the times Arya had saved him.

"But what about us? You're here and we need you."

"Wyk could come just as easily. He'd be happy to come," he said, giving her a meaningful look.

Jeyne blushed and looked away, her next words telling as she changed the subject.

"And what about you? They say the snowdrifts in the North are taller than houses. How are you going to get through that?"

"I'll manage," he said.

"You are stubborn and stupid!" Jeyne cried, and he could hear the stifled sob in her voice. "Don't go north to die and leave us here all alone. We're your family now."

She had no idea how closely she echoed a lost friend and it was that thought that him wavering the most. She was right, if he did leave then he would be abandoning them just as much as he had Arya. He found he could not do that.

Gendry was fixing the broken hinge on the door that lead into the kitchen when the shadow slipped into the inn. Jeyne's gasp made him tense and look up, worried that there was a new threat to the inn.

In the middle of the room stood a slim girl with a blade at her hip and the enormous wolf at her side. He blinked rapidly several times to make sure he wasn't imagining her.

"Arya?" he finally asked.

"Yes, stupid!"

"But how?"

She pointed to the direwolf next to her, almost as big, and said, "Nymeria. She kept an eye on you until I could return."

It was strange to have his suspicions about the wolf confirmed. He had always wondered if it was not just wishful thinking on his behalf. A link to the girl who had wanted him to be her family. But as fantastical as it seemed, it was plausible when he considered the wolf pack that had been catching food for the inn. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and smiled down at the friend he hadn't seen in long time.

"I thought you were dead."

"No, that's just the Hound."

"Where have you been?" he asked.

"That's a story for another day. I sailed into Saltpans a couple of days ago but I plan on going north. I heard Jon was calling for aid." she said, poking her bony elbow into his stomach. "Fancy finally making it to the Wall?"

He had thought the decision he had come to had been final. He was not going to walk out on Jeyne and her orphans. But with Arya in front of him, the initial desire to go north resurfaced. Then he saw Jeyne wrap her arms around herself out of the corner of his eye, anxiously gnawing on her lip. Even with Arya in front of him, going now would still mean abandoning Jeyne and her inn.

"I can't," he said, regret tinging his tone. "I have obligations here that I can't walk away from."

He heard Jeyne's sigh of relief but his attention was caught on the smile that faded from Arya's face and the frown that descended. "Fine," she said curtly. "I was stupid to come here. To think you'd want to come with me."

She went to leave and he caught her wrist. "You're not going alone, are you? Travelling all that way by yourself? You'll never make it even to the Neck."

She jerked away. "Not that it's any of your concern, but I have Nymeria and her pack," she said with a nod to the door.

He walked over and looked out, his eyes widening at the sight of the wolves, numbering in their hundreds he was sure. "Arya, don't go," he said impulsively. "Stay here."

She turned her shoulder huffily. "Jon needs help and he's all the family I have," she said with a dismissive look at him.

He had forgotten just how horrible it was to say no to Arya. How it hurt to think he was letting her down. "I wish I could come, but I can't leave the people that need me here."

She shrugged in that uncaring manner she had, and to someone who did not know her, it would seem as if she didn't care. But Gendry knew better. She was hurting that he had refused her and the guilt he had towards her reared once more.

He looked helplessly at Arya. "At least don't leave now. The sun will be setting soon. Stay here for the night and start early tomorrow."

She contemplated his words for a moment before shrugging once more and looking at Jeyne, a challenging look in her eyes. "I have coin if you have a room to spare."

Jeyne nodded and led her upstairs, keeping a wary distance from the direwolf.

The knock at his door to his bedchamber later that night startled him. He called for the person to come in and the door swung open to reveal Jeyne.

"Is Arya settled?" he asked.

"She's downstairs, eating her way through a bowl of stew and regaling Willow and Kem with tales of Braavos."

His eyebrows rose. She had been in Braavos. He remembered the coin that Jaqen fellow had given her outside Harrenhal. What had she been doing in Braavos? A slip of a girl all by herself. The guilt sank like a leaden weight to the bottom of his stomach. She would not have been on her own if he had stayed with her, like she had asked him to.

"You want to go," Jeyne said with no preamble, giving words to the desire he felt.

"What?" he asked.

"You want to go with her."

The truth that he did sprung naturally to his lips, causing him to hesitate for a brief moment. A wry smile settled on Jeyne's lips. "You don't need to lie. I could tell downstairs that you did."

"It's just…" he started before tailing off, unsure of what to say.

Jeyne moved away from the door and stood in front of where he sat on his cot, patting his shoulder. "I don't mind," she said. "I see how much that girl needs you. What if she makes it to the Wall and her brother is already dead? She would have no one then. I think you should go."

Warmth spread through him at Jeyne's words. It was typical of her to think about Arya's situation like that. She had a natural affection for lost children and Arya was still little more than a child. It was how Jeyne had come to running this inn full of orphans. But the worry about what would happen to Jeyne and the inn returned.

"What would you do?" he asked.

"Wyk Would come here. He's downstairs now, eating, and I took the opportunity to ask him."

Gendry stared, fascinated with the blush that sat high on Jeyne's cheeks, but he had the sense to keep quiet, asking instead, "You would be fine?"

"Better than you most likely," she said with a smile.

He rose, thinking to start gathering his belongings, the conflict gone from his mind, making his heart feel lighter. The decision had been taken out of his hands, Jeyne had all but made it for him, and he could go without feeling as if he had abandoned her and the children.

As he turned to the small chest that housed his meagre belongings, a warm body thudded into his back. Jeyne wrapped her arms around him burying her head between his shoulder blades. "Keep safe," she murmured into his cloak.

"I will," he said, turning and engulfing her in a bear hug.

As he clattered down the stairs into the main room, he realised how right it was to go to the Wall with Arya. They had started their journey with that destination in mind. Mayhaps, they were destined to get there, one way or another. Together.