Hey, guys. So I just got caught up on season 3 of Game of Thrones, and damn it, I really didn't want to get attached to any of the characters, much less two of them, lest they should die, but good lord. These two just kill me. This story idea just popped into my head as I was watching the season finale, and I wrote it in about a day, and I wanted to get it up before season 4 starts and Gendry turns up dead, or something (I haven't got that far in the books yet, so no one tell me what happens to either of them). And for those of you who do know what happens next, just pretend you've got as little knowledge as those of us poor sad sacks who either haven't read the books at all or haven't gotten through the third book just yet.

This is set three years after the events of season 3, and I realize the setting bits are rather unlikely, but what I was most keen to write was the reunion of the two, and the rest is just basic context into which I felt I could write that scene. Once I've read all the books, I may take another stab at writing more (and more canonically) on this series and these characters, but for now, I'm just going to have to beg you all for a bit of patience and forced ignorance.

I'd very much like to know what you guys think of this, so please, please leave reviews to let me know your opinions. And, as always, I very much hope you enjoy it! =)

Quiet as a shadow, Arya slipped into the crevice beneath the large boulder. The Northern autumn snows had begun to grow fiercer and deeper, but once in a while she would find spots such as this that were still mostly dry and obscured from view by the snow. She laid out her bedroll on the hard earth and stared up through the hole she'd crawled in from at the stars. She'd been on her own for three years now. Everyone had left her - Jon, Sansa, her father, Yoren, Hot Pie, Gendry, Robb and her mother. Even Winterfell was gone, and Bran and Rickon. The Bastard of Bolton and his men still ran patrols around the ruins of Winterfell, ensuring that no Stark could return to it and begin to rebuild. Not that she could do it alone, anyways. She had no army, no friends, no family. Perhaps alone was how she was meant to be.

But she had to make one last attempt to find someone. Jon might still be at the Wall - and if he was, he would take care of her. She could stay with him until it was all over. Even now, the war seemed to be nearly over, the concerns of the imminent winter taking priority over the conflict over who sat the Iron Throne. Nevertheless, there were still plenty of desperate bannermen and sellswords who would turn one of the last remaining Starks over to the highest bidder. Arya was fourteen now, and had had her first flowering last year. If she were to be captured, she might be tortured or killed, yes, but she also might be forced to marry some stupid little lordling - or, gods forbid, a Lannister, like Sansa and the Imp, or a Frey, like her uncle Edmure.

She was so tired of being alone. If only she could get to Jon, he could tousle her hair and call her "Little Sister" like he had before he'd joined the Night's Watch. Before everything. Before King Robert died, before her father died, before Mycah and Yoren died, before her mother and brothers died. Before she'd sent Nymeria away, thrown rocks at her until she ran. Before the Red Woman had taken Gendry away.

She wished Gendry was with her now. She'd be warmer, for a start. He'd followed her, helped her, kept her safe. He'd been her friend, even if he was only a stupid, bullheaded bastard boy.

And then he'd left her.

Even before the Red Woman had taken him, he'd decided to leave her. She'd still be alone, even if the Red Woman had never come. She hated them all. Everyone she had ever know had let her down, and she didn't need them anyways. She rolled over and pulled her cloak tighter around her, closing her eyes and drifting off into an uneasy sleep.

She woke just before dawn, rolling up her bedroll and shoving it into her pack. She broke her fast with the last of a stale loaf of bread she had stolen from a small village she'd passed a few days ago. She should hunt again, but animals she could actually kill and carry with her were few and far between, and she would much rather spend her time moving north than tracking squirrels. She peeked out at the pre-dawn darkness, Syrio Forel's words coming to her unbidden. Look with your eyes. Hear with your ears. She saw no hint of movement, heard no whisper of breath or crunch of snow.

She crawled out into the woods and shivered. Winter Is Coming. Soon. She'd never experienced a winter - back when she'd been at Winterfell, everyone liked to remind her that she had been a summer babe - but now autumn was ending and winter would be upon Westeros. She'd need a heavier cloak if she didn't reach the Wall soon. She pulled her hood up and began walking, keeping the sunrise on her right and her senses sharp.

She walked all day, hiding from passing villagers and travelers and skipping her midday meal so she could have something to eat tomorrow. Midway through the afternoon, her ears pricked at the sound of a snapping twig. Quick as a snake, she drew her hunting knife from her boot and held it loosely in front of her. She stood stock-still, hardly daring to breathe as she watched and listened for anything out of place. Just when she had convinced herself the noise had been the breeze or a bird of some sort, she heard another sound - the soft hiss of muffled breathing. Calm as still water, she bent down and picked up a small stone with her free hand, then threw it against the fallen tree from behind which she was sure the noise was coming. When no animal skittered out from behind it, she challenged, "I know you're there. Come out - slowly."

The hand appeared first, slowly rising above the tree trunk along with a deep, cautious voice that called, "I don't want no trouble." After the hand came an arm, then a shock of messy black hair, then a pair of bright blue eyes set in a head that rested atop a muscular neck and broad, strong shoulders. The man slowly stood, and Arya nearly dropped her knife when she realized who it was she was looking at.

It took him a second longer to recognize her - although to be fair, she'd changed since they'd last seen each other. Her hair had grown down past her shoulders, and with her flowering had come the curves of womanhood, though they were easy enough to hide under her man's tunic and heavy cloak. The man's eyes widened. "Arya? Is it... Is that you?" He began to laugh. "Gods, you almost look like a proper woman now."

An inexplicable rage rose within her, and as he stepped over the log and moved slowly toward her, she sent the knife whizzing past his stupid, fat head. It buried itself deep in a tree a short way behind him. He froze. "It's me, Arya. It's Gendry?"

"I know who you are, you stupid!" He barely ducked out of the way as a rock went flying at his face. She stomped toward him, picking up everything and anything she could find and hurling it forcefully at his head - rocks, sticks, pinecones, and when she couldn't reach any more of those, a handful of snow. The snow caught him full in the face, but he didn't say anything further, and didn't move except to spit out the mouthful of snow and dodge whatever missiles she flung his way. As she threw things, she shouted at him. "You left me! You left me and then the Red Woman took you, and the Hound took me and then I was alone and now you're here? Go away! I hate you!"

He stood there, listening to her scream with no reaction besides a bewildered expression in his eyes and a stupid grin on his lips. When she was within arm's reach of him, she reached out and shoved him. He stumbled back a step, but didn't fall, and when she moved to shove him again, he caught her arms wrestled them down to her sides. She struggled against him, but he was strong, and she resorted to bringing her knee up into his stomach. He recoiled with a grunt, but recovered quickly and lunged at her. "Come on, Arya, it's me! I've been looking for you, you told me you were from Winterfell, so I went there, but it's gone!" He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him, effectively stopping her from moving as he continued, "I asked around about your your family, and they said your father had a bastard on the Wall, so I started heading north, hoping maybe you'd gone to your brother."

Somehow, Arya managed to hook her leg around his knee and give a jerk, and they went tumbling to the ground. Arya landed with a thud on top of Gendry, who quickly grabbed her arms and rolled over so he was on top of her. She struggled, but she was too small and he too strong, and he pinned her to the ground with her arms above her head. He began to speak again, his voice softer, pained. "I didn't know what else to do, Arya. You're the only person I've ever been able to trust."

Arya could feel the coldness of the melting snow against her neck as Gendry waited patiently atop her, evidently having said all he had to say. As the melted snow seeped down her neck and back, she felt her fury dissolve into a strange heaviness, the weight of everything that had happened in the past three years pressing down on her, and before she knew what was happening, she felt a tear spill from her eye and roll down her cheek to the ground. Gendry stared at her, even more confused, as she stopped struggling and simply lay beneath his weight, tears streaming down her face. "Get off me, you stupid aurochs," she spat, angry at herself for crying in front of him.

He shifted his weight off of her a bit and asked, "What's wrong with you, anyhow?"

A million angry retorts rushed through her head, but when she opened her mouth, a sob broke through into her voice as she whispered, "I wanted you to come back."

He laughed again. "Well, I did come back, didn't I?" He grinned down at her, chuckling, but his smile faded as she continued to cry. After a moment, he let go of her hands and brushed her hair off her face. "Come on, Arya. Quit crying. Don't - " Impulsively, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Her eyes widened in astonishment, but as the kiss went on, her eyes fluttered closed and she forgot the cold soaking into her back and Jon and the Wall and everything that had happened since she'd lost him three years ago.

When he drew back, her eyes flickered open again, and she asked hoarsely, "What was that for?"

He seemed a bit befuddled as he answered, "I dunno, I... I just wanted you to stop crying."

She couldn't help it. She giggled. "Shut up, you idiot." She gave his shoulder a shove, and he obediently rolled off of her and onto his back. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and sidled up against his side. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, staring up at the grey sky above their heads. She propped herself up on her elbow so she could see his face and tried not to sound afraid as she said, "Don't leave me again, Gendry."

He shook his head, still gazing at the sky, his eyes seeming even bluer beside the whiteness of the snow. "I won't."

She mustered up a suspicious glare. "Promise?"

He glanced up at her, then reached up and pulled her down to kiss her again. "When'd you turn pretty, eh?"

She smacked him on the chest. "Do you promise?"

A grin spread across his face. "I spend all that time looking for you, and you think I'm likely to go running off on you now? Don't be stupid."

Arya scowled and punched him. "Promise me, Gendry!"

He laughed. "Alright, alright! I promise not to leave you again. D'you?"

She nodded solemnly. "I promise not to leave you, either."

He sat up. "Good. That's good."

Unexpectedly, a snippet of song from an age ago floated into Arya's head.

For you shall be my lady love,
and I shall be your lord.
I'll always keep you warm and safe,
and guard you with my sword.

She sat up, a hint of a smile on her lips. Gendry watched her, seeming faintly amused. "So," he asked, "Where are we going, then?"

And how she smiled and how she laughed,
the maiden of the tree.
She spun away and said to him,
no featherbed for me.

Arya got to her feet and pulled him up with her. "North. To the Wall. I think you're going to like my brother Jon."

Gendry reached over and brushed the snow from her tangled hair, an affectionate look she'd never seen before in his eyes. "As m'lady commands."

I'll wear a gown of golden leaves,
and bind my hair with grass,
But you can be my forest love,
and me your forest lass.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't call me m'lady."

He grinned and began walking. "Sorry, m'lady."

She started after him, scowling, but even as she cocked her fist back to hit him, she found that she didn't much care what he called her, because she had Gendry back, and for the first time in a long time, she wasn't alone anymore.

As Arya's fist caught him square in the back, Gendry laughed.

Let the sky fall
When it crumbles
We will stand Tall
Face it all together
At Skyfall

-Adele

Please review! All feedback is greatly appreciated!

Also, for those of you who care, my Lord of the Rings fic will be updated next week.