Disclaimer: I own NOTHING.

Before The End

Her first time hadn't been what she expected. It hadn't been bad at all but there was just… too much going into the situation for it to live up to any expectations. Gendry had been her first love. A child's love that she had thought meant he was going to be her family, her new brother because she needed to lay some sort of claim on him. Some sort of ownership. She hadn't the capabilities or experience to name the emotions he stirred in her so she had fit him into the closest box she could assign him. Arya had spent her entire life trailing behind her brothers and vying for their approval, their pride, a laugh… and Gendry had always handed those things out so willingly to her. The easy acceptance and trust he gave her was intoxicating. It was what she had been searching for her entire life. That she had felt so rarely that she was hungry for his presence. It kept the darkness of her life away. Everything would be okay because she had Gendry. And they would go back to Winterfell and her family would love him too, and when this war was over she would have him forever. When he said he didn't want that future, to follow the path she had offered them she was gutted. And then he was gone, choosing the brotherhood and being betrayed by them in one fell swoop. She had thought he was dead all these years, another loss in her life, another hole in her heart.

More names on her list.

The day he rode back into Winterfell with her brother was a shock. Then having Jon, her actual brother there and comparing those feelings to having Gendry returned to her… she didn't think of him as a brother. Everytime she caught a glimpse of him her body hummed. When she spoke with him or caught him looking at her she could feel her blood pulsing through her entire body. She wanted him in a primal screaming way. She wanted to stake that claim to him again, but this time she knew what that claim really meant.

As evidenced by the fact that she had recently been writhing naked on top of him. That he had been inside of her, groaning out her name as she rocked against him to some destination she couldn't quite name… or reach. It felt good. He felt good but as he had pulled out of her, spending himself in the space between their bodies, holding her against him so tight as his body had shuddered, his mouth pressing wet hot kisses against her throat and neck… she felt let down.

"Thats it?" She thought to herself, "That's what all the fuss is about?" Arya laughed to think of herself as an innocent. She had killed so many men. She had seen so many things… but there had been no space in her life for intimacy before. Squeezing in a frantic fumbling coupling a few hours before the end of the world made her consider the fact there wasn't room for it now either but she had felt . She thought back to Bravvos, there had been many nights when she was begging and blind that she had sought refuge in alleyways, hidden in a dark corner for protection no one had known she was there, she had overheard many, many trysts. The heavy breathing, the dirty words, the frantic slaps of skin on skin, the cries of completion and satisfaction had made her squirm, had her instinctively squeezing her thighs tighter against the heaviness at her center. Later when all she knew was pain, when she had crawl back to her pallet after being beaten and humiliated all day by the Waif she had craved for anything to feel good again she would rock herself against her palm and -

"Arya." Gendry was calling her back to herself, to her present, when she met his blue eyes, saw the familiar crinkle as he smiled at her, she felt the heat blossom again. Not just in her core, but in her heart and she found herself offering a smile, and a surprisingly shy kiss considering what they had just done. That his steadily drying seed was gluing their bodies together. "Are you okay?" He asked, his tone gentle as he shifted his bigger body to lay her back on the sacks she had earlier pushed him down on.

"I'm alright." She answered, wondering what to do now. She should get dressed, she should sleep? She was going to die in a few hours. So was he. That thought kept her from sitting and gathering her clothes. He gave her a queer look, head tilting as he scooped his cloak off the floor and covered her with it, before standing and walking to the other side of the store room. He found a skin hanging and opening it he gave it a sniff, seemingly satisfied he carried it back to where she way laying. Picking up a piece of clothing from the floor, he busied himself not looking at her, folding it at dousing it with the water in the skin, before moving the cloak aside and wiping at his leavings on her belly.

"Gendry." She said lying still but wanting to run, confused and embarrassed at being naked with him now that they weren't having sex.

"Arya." His tone was slightly mocking as his gaze returned to hers, though his hand still moved between them, the fabric soft and shockingly cold with the water, as it stroked higher, cleaning off the lower curve of her breast, and he seemed closer suddenly, his face near to hers again and her breath started to huff out a little quicker as the stroking fabric moved lower. When it touched her there, her hips sharply jerked towards, Gendry let out a choked chuckle at the reaction, his face still close to hers, their gazes locked, ragged breaths mingling, but not touching as he dropped the cloth and his hand was on her. As he pressed against the button at the top of her sex Arya's head dropped back her eyes shutting him out and her hands dropping between them as well to close over his. Not pushing him away, pulling him closer.

His rough blacksmith's hand grabbed her chin and levered her up for a kiss. This one was rougher, harder than the frantic ones before and she felt herself moaning into his mouth as their tongues battled each other. His hand on her started to move again, lower and she clutched frantically,

"Please don't stop." She whispered against his mouth, and felt him smile, and then his finger was pressing her entrance and then two were inside her, his thumb and her hand still pressing against the bundle at top, the sensations making her feel out of control. She was sore from their first time, it hadn't been rough but it had been her first time. His thick rough fingers against the tender flesh made what she had been seeking earlier feel closer somehow. The edge of pain familiar and bringing … it closer. She felt her thighs wildly clenching and unclenching on his hand between them and wild was how she felt, biting down on his lip one second and seeking him closer to swallow the groan he let out at her action. His hand left its grip on her chin to fist in her hair and he reared up to look down at her and watch her come undone.

"Gods Arya." The oath was dragged from him guttural, one of her hands leaving her sex and she grasped tightly at her own breast, her short nails digging into the mound, the pain sending another flood of wetness to her core that he clearly felt because the grip on her hair tightened and suddenly his fingers left her and he was there again, roughly slamming into her once, twice, his now free hand finding her other breast and pinching at the tightly beaded tip. Arya ground her fingertips more frantically between them, and then she was falling. She had reached the destination and she had flung herself over the side of it, a gasp ripped from her throat as he rode her through it. The violent sound of his flesh hitting hers and they were kissing again and he was chanting her name like a prayer, "Arya, Arya, Arya." Before he joined her again, collapsing onto her, boneless, heaving and slick with sweat.

"Fuck," He cursed against her throat, pressing a kiss where it touched her skin, "Fuck." Another kiss and she felt a smile touch her lips. "Better?" He asked her neck because he wasn't getting up, and she chuckled briefly.

"Hmm, yes." She replied, and he lifted his head and that cheeky Gendry grin was back and she wanted to shove him away and pull him closer all at once. She did neither as he rolled off of her but wasn't able to go far , collapsing on his back next to her, his eyes closing.

"I think you killed me 'Arry." He croaked out, a smile on his stupid handsome face even as his breathing slowed.

"You could be so lucky." She whispered as she reached for the discarded cloak to cover them. Turning on her side she watched him sleep, knowing she would not join him and she wished they were that lucky. Because they weren't going to die in a warm room that smelled like sex and felt like heaven despite the lumpy sacks of grain they lay atop. They were going to die in a cold dark place swarmed by the dead very soon.

Reaching out she rested her hand on his chest, over his heart, the beat of it reassuring, how many more did he have left in him? He reached up and covered it with his own, lifting it to his lips to kiss her palm without opening his eyes or moving otherwise, and returning it to his heart. "Mine." She thought, "These heartbeats are mine." As if feeling her her thoughts, and agreeing with them he pressed her hand into his chest, the beats feeling closer and stronger against her palm.

"You need to sleep Arya. You need to rest so you can fight."

A/N: Ohhhkay, like the rest of the world I needed to add my own take on this glorious storyline coming to fruition. I have been out of the fanfic world for over a DECADE and this sucked me back. I have a bigger story planned around this, but I needed to get this out of my brain ! Hope you enjoyed! Please review !