After watching 8x1, this idea of how I would like their characters to go moving forward popped in to my head. If you guys like it I will write more for it. Also, if I write more, there will eventually be more graphic sexual content. So, let me know if you like it!

Arya removed her scabbard and placed it on the table. A low fire crackled in the hearth, warming her room and giving a low light. Not that she needed it. She could dance circles around the room in the dark without bumping a single item. She released her hair from its hold atop her head, allowing it to flow in front of her face.

Jon had arrived with Daenerys Targaryen just yesterday, and a whole host of others had followed. She had been surprised at how happy she was to see the Hound. He was different now, than how she remembered. Softer. Or maybe she was harder. Not that it mattered. She had let slip her harder outer shell with Jon. She couldn't help it. Even after all these years, she had remembered his face. Only his. Everyone else's faded, until she saw them again. Well, except one other.

Arya ran her hands through her hair and walked to the fire. She hadn't believed her eyes when she saw him riding behind Jon. He was taller, and his hair was shorter, but it had been him. Gendry.

She hadn't been sure how he would react when he saw her again for the first time, but she should have known he would be the same as he always was. Well, not exactly the same. He had never been awkward around her before. When they were young, being together had been easy. She had been little more than a child. But even now, they fell back in line after only minutes.

A knock at her door pulled her from her thoughts and immediately set her on edge. Though she knew she was safe at home, old habits died hard. She placed her hand on needle, which laid on the table.

"Come in."

There was a pause, and then the door opened. Gendry stood in the doorway, his hand still on the handle. He made eye contact with her and then stopped. Arya withdrew her hand from needle. Gendry held something wrapped in cloth in his hands, and she knew immediately it was her weapon.

Arya motioned with her hand. "Come in, just close the door behind you. I don't need any of these nosy bastards sniffing around."

Gendry frowned. "I shouldn't. It's not proper."

Arya laughed. After all this time he was still trying to lookout for her propriety. "Gendry, I've killed hundreds of men. I think I'll be alright with a boy in my room."

He paused, seeming to consider this, before walking in and closing the door. Though, once he did, he didn't move any further into the room. Arya sighed. She supposed it was a step in the right direction.

"You can set it down in the table if you like."

He shrugged. "I'm fine."

Arya raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to stand there holding it forever? It'll be a bit difficult for me to use."

He smirked and finally walked to the table to set it down. "It wasn't easy to make, it took some engineering, but it should do."

"I'm sure it will be perfect."

Gendry looked around the room, his eyes seeming to search for anything to look at besides her. When he found nothing, he was forced to look at her. She held his gaze, refusing to be the one to break eye contact. He seemed to sense the challenge and smiled.

"You're different now, from how you were."

She nodded. "Yes. But you're not."

He scoffed and shook his head. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Is me being different bad?"

"No." He said it quickly and definitely, looking almost embarrassed by how quickly he had said it. "I mean, you're still the same in the ways that count. You're still stubborn."

She crossed her arms. "And you're still obnoxious."

His smile broadened. "If you say so mi 'lady."

Arya wanted to laugh, but turned away to face the fire instead. She had been trained for so long to not show her emotions, but with him it was so easy. It always had been. She took a deep breath and began to pull in her feelings when he spoke.

"I wanted to thank you."

Surprised, she half turned back to him. "For what?"

Gendry looked down at his feet, seeming surprised at himself for saying it. "It's just, I always took care of myself. Before you and after you. But when I was with you, those years ago, you were the one person who ever really cared for me. You looked out for me without wanting anything in return. Even when keeping me around put your personal safety at risk, you still did it."

He looked back up at her. Arya was slow to answer. When she was younger she would have answered him quickly and emotionally, but she was different now. When she finally spoke, she kept her tone neutral.

"Yes, well, I needed you for protection as much as you needed me."

He stared at her for a long time, before finally shaking his head. "I can see past this you know?"

Arya frowned. "Past what?"

"This mask you're wearing. You want to seem hard and cold, but that's not you. The Arya I knew was a ball of fire, burning anyone who got in her way. And I can still see you in there."

He turned to leave, walking to the door.

Arya called out. "I meant it you know."

He stopped and turned back with a frown. "Meant what?"

"That I would be your family."

A look of surprise crossed his face for only a moment, before being replace with a smile. "And I meant what I said. You would be my lady."

Arya couldn't help the smile that spread across her face, not that she tried. He remembered. He remembered that last conversation they had had together, even though it had been more than five years.

Without thinking of what she was doing, for once, Arya crossed the room in only a few steps. Gendry's eyes widened and he leaned back, seeming unsure of what she was doing. When she reached him, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled his mouth to her. He resisted for only a second. Then he leaned in. She felt one hand wrap around her waist, the other around her head, and as his intensity increased, so did hers.

Intertwining her hands around the back of his head she pulled herself up, wrapping her legs around his waist. Gendry moved his hands to her thighs, supporting her weight.

He smelled of smoke and ash, of wood and metal. Like home. She had never kissed anyone before but had always imagined it would be like fighting. This was better. He was soft and hard all at once, sharp yet smooth. He walked forward so that she was sitting on the table. Arya began to pull at his shirt, lifting it up his chest, but he stopped her.

Gendry pulled back, breathless and dazed. He blinked several times, his eyes darting to every feature of her face. "Arya."

He said her name like a prayer, soft but with reverence. She kept her hands locked around his head. She didn't want to let him go, because she worried that once she did, he wouldn't come back.

"Why did you stop?"

He shook his head and swallowed hard. "We shouldn't."

The words shot through her like a blade. No, this was worse than a blade, and she would know. She withdrew her hands from him and pushed him away, standing and walking back to the fire.

"Arya-"

"No," she snapped. "It's fine. I know you don't have feeling for me in that way, I don't for you either. I just thought we could do that before the dead come and kill us all."

"Arya-"

"Just go." She spoke with as little emotion as she could muster, refusing to let her voice shake or the hurt that seared in her chest show on her face.

"Oh, seven hells," he cursed, walking around so that he faced her. "Arya, I didn't mean we shouldn't ever. I only meant that you're a Lady."

"I'm not-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're not a lady. But you are. And I won't dishonor you. Of course I have those feelings for you. But having those feelings means doing the right thing by you, not just what I want."

Arya blinked and looked up at him. "So, what? We can't ever do anything?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, I just think we can take this slower."

Arya turned to him fully and roller her eyes. "Gendry, the dead will be here in days. We don't have much time."

The smallest of smiles pulled at his lips, the fire crackling in his eyes. "It's settled then. We won't die."