(AN: This is an AU from Game of Thrones, all the Original Characters belong to George RR Martin.)
Chapter One
One step after another, her strides were getting longer getting faster, her breath coming out easier and less ragged each day. Black sneaker slapping on the concrete, Arya Stark could feel the gravel kicking up beneath her feet as she powered down the track outside of her university. Each step was getting easier, and her daily habit had become a refuge for her from the rest of her dorm mates, most of all her elder sister Sansa. She could feel perspiration gathering at the band around her sports bra as she eyed a worn line on the track a good thirty feet around the side of the track, and decided to take the time to sprint towards it, it would be the last leg of her personal race and hopefully would have her beat her goal of time, ticking by in the timer of her phone, held by a band around her upper right arm. Her earbuds were growing loose in her ears as she picked up pace, by the movement or by the perspiration she had gathered in her run it wasn't to be sure, but the bass kickback of her music was less impactful that it had been a minute before. She didn't feel it right to reach up to adjust, her arms in perfect form at her sides as she sped up, leaning forward just a slightly to increase her pacing.
One more step, another one, another one, another one.
The line approached quickly and she passed it faster than she had anticipated it to be, her breathing now ragged and uneven as her small chest heaved, slowing to a jog and then to a stop her hands flying to her knees as she bent forward gulping the cold morning air into her lungs like the sweetest drink she had all morning, her water bottle sitting on the bleachers a few meters away from her, her keys and bookbag tossed lazily over the cold white steel of the wirey seating section, forgotten as she meandered towards it with a tired huff, her breathing still troubled as her guts churned with tiredness and hunger, having chosen to run before grabbing something to eat this morning, much to her detriment.
It had been Sansa's fault of course, sitting at the kitchen table of their shared dorm, her long auburn hair perfectly braided down her back, a fresh cup of coffee sitting beside her steaming from the wolf mug she had gotten for Christmas from their elder brother Robb only a few months earlier. Arya had come from the upper floors still in her pajamas, short hair a rats nest atop her head, not having chosen to shower yet, and not smelling like the perfect rose her sister did, only accented by Sansa's nose curling at the sight of her, eyes flicking up from her study notes to regard her for a minute before rolling those blue orbs and turning them back down to what was far more important than her impudent little sister.
Sansa had been dressed lovely as always, ladylike as she had always sought to be, a knee length periwinkle blue dress hugging her figure accented with a knitted grey sweater fitted over her slender shoulders. Her legs modesty covered by a pair of white tights feet covered in grey slippers to avoid collecting dirt off the floor. Makeup very minimal, pristine as always, her lips gleaming with gloss, long lashes coated with mascara and eyes carrying a perfect cats eye, no doubt inspired by her History teacher, Cersei. Arya couldn't help but notice her neck was offensively bare as she had scratched at her own, a necklace they together shared from childhood greening up her neck as she walked into the kitchen, slamming the fridge door noisily for effect as she grabbed the milk jug and drank from it directly, taking long thirsty gulps as Sansa looked up indignantly from the kitchen table with a frown.
"That's disgusting. We all drink from that you know." Sansa had spoken, her back facing Arya who took another long drink, pulling the jug away to messily wipe her mouth with her bare arm. She placed the milk jug down on the marble counter of their shared kitchen and stuck her tongue out at her sisters back, "That's a nasty habit that mother wouldn't be particularly pleased to know you still have."
"Yeah well, I'm not the only one who does it." She groused back, clearing her throat before turning her head and hocking a wad of spit into the sink, hitting it noisily as Sansa visibly heaved with disgust, turning back to her sister with a scowl. Arya wasn't about to let her complain about it any more than necessary, turning on the sink and giving her a withering 'see' kind of look, her brown eyes widening for effect, the mussed black eyeliner from the night before raccooned around her rims as she spoke again, "Yara does it too you know. So, I don't see why you're complaining. You don't bitch when she does it."
"It's because Yara Greyjoy isn't my sister. You are." Sansa argued back; her soft voice icy cold as she regarded Arya. Arya was a mess from the night before, loose fitting men's PJ pants she had stolen from Jon the last time she had seen him, a tight rugged looked white wife beater over her top, or it might have been white, if it hadn't been stained by careless washing Arya's part, now a worn grey. Her brown hair messy and face wearing remains of whatever craziness she had gotten up to the night before, deserving of her wearing black eyeliner, now smudged over her face. Sansa had looked at the 'sisters' necklace her younger sister was wearing and had refused to take off since arriving at Thrones University, the chain of it turning her neck green from long term wear, letting out an annoyed sigh.
"Oh, don't let HER hearing you that." Arya had chirped back, reaching for a cereal bowl from the cupboard only to find there were none. "Dorm SISTERS, isn't that what you said when you got here? Where are all the bowls?" Arya eyed the empty sink, a frown deepening on her face as she watched a smirk play over her sister's face. Sansa was good at losing battles, but winning wars. When they had arrived, their mother Catelyn had been clear in bringing their own dishware bought new, since their dorm mates might bring their own and she had been right. Shared cutlery, their own mugs, but their own dishware, plates and bowls from home, and Sansa had obviously taken what she had brought, Arya from habit leaving her own in the cupboards rather than her room as she turned in an accusatory way to her smug sister.
"We're all supposed to work to keep this place clean Arya." Sansa spoke in a smug voice, leaning back from her work, adjusting her pencils along her notes in a neat line, the orange wood stark and bright against the clean notes she had been highlighting and rewriting. "And if you're not going to take care of yours, then you can't use them. I've found them on the counter, dirty every day this week."
"Wow," Arya remarked, closing the fridge with the milk back in it, noting the names of their roommates, Yara and Margaery along some of the contents, Sansa having joined in with her own perfect cursive name along two containers of lunch she had prepared at the beginning of the week. Arya had an unnamed box of fries from down the way, an angry drawn face threatening death to whoever hoped to take what food she had leftover looking back at her. Taking the leftovers out, shaking her head in disgust to her sisters catty bullshit she opened the box hopefully only to find it empty, the oil from chicken pieces staining the brown of the box, ketchup long since dried along the opposite side of the box, crumbs to be spoken for, as she licked her thumb and picked them up, the stale taste filling her mouth and doing nothing to stave off her morning hunger. "You're a bitch sometimes, did you know that?"
Sansa smiled in a sugary sweet way back at her as Arya moved to toss the empty food box in the garbage, still sucking at her fingertips as she leaned over her sister, her well penned notes just begging to be marred by her oily fingertips. But she knew that Sansa would undoubtedly tattle on her for that one, and she had heard just about enough from her mother this week, not wanting to add to her growing list of annoyance. Instead she took the two well sharpened pencils Sansa had carefully placed on her work, looking at her sister directly as Sansa narrowed her eyes in response.
In one even motion without even exerting any effort Arya pressed her thumb to the flimsy wood fisted in her hand, snapping the pencils in half before offering a smile of her own, dropping the broken pencils down on her work in one even motion, "I can't eat, you can't work. We're both miserable."
Sansa hadn't acted perturbed by the act, knowing her sister was aware that upstairs on her well-manicured desk was a whole arsenal of pencils. But it was the act of rebellion she dared Sansa to retaliate to that pleased Arya the most after all, she was only inconvenienced and going to their mother about it would be as petty as taking the bowl had been in the first place. Turning on her heel to leave the kitchen, she could hear Sansa's chair pull from the table as she skirted up the stairs to the shared bathroom, hoping that she would be able to shower and ready herself for a run before any of the other girls were awake. Only inching her door open a touch, she had grabbed her towel off the back of the door, hoping not to wake up her roommate Yara, before heading into the bathroom, Sansa passing her and shoulder checking on the way to prove a catty point before opening the door to her bedroom with Margaery to replace her work. Arya was quick to lock the door, and take over before she could possibly be interrupted, knowing her bag in the front hall would have all she needed when she was done.
And now here she was, sitting back on the bleachers, gazing out at the track with a long sigh as the weekend morning went from semi darkness to full on rising sun. The dew on the grass glittering, save for where she had tromped through with now wet sneakers, her phone in her hands, headphones ignored as they dangled from her ears, music humming without distinction out of hearing range, as her wet hair plastered with perspiration against the back of her neck grew chilled in cold of the still shadowed pit of the track. Her stomach growled again, as she knew she could very well go for a bagel or shake somewhere to fill up, or even better, steal into one of the boys dorms to steal a bowl of cereal, but she allowed herself to hesitate, quietly pulling up her phone contacts to thumb through them.
First was her name, Arya, for when she sent images from class, or reminders for later just so she wouldn't forget. Second was her younger brother Bran, who was still at home with her parents finishing up school, likely to go to a better university due to being gifted when he graduated. Next was Bitchface, more commonly known to everyone else as Sansa. She couldn't quite remember changing the contact name from 'Sweet Sister' with a skull emoji, but this suited her better. Arya snorted to herself, looking over the contacts, debating adjusting Sansa, but decided better against it at this moment, instead turning to the third within the modge podge of B names she cared about.
'Bestie' was written with two stars beside each point beginning and end of the name, belonging to Gendry Baratheon. The only person she really felt any attachment to at this school outside of her roommate Yara, and even then, she wasn't sure how to absorb her friend, who oftentimes could be more intense than herself on matters that she cared about. Gendry on the other hand had been the first person to interact with her in any long term capacity, taking a class on Mechanics and an apprenticeship at a local shop in town frequented by the various students of Thrones when their cars broke down for one reason or another. Gendry would be at the shop today no doubt, as it was the first Saturday he had had since returning from exams to do so. Luckily Davos (oftentimes called 'Ser Davos' in jest by Arya at his displeasure to being called Mister) was very understanding with his protégé and allowed his time off for school whenever he was able to afford to, which was often given the state of the town.
Who else was worth mentioning? Arya searched through the list, various classmates and teachers coming into mind, other important contacts including her eldest brother Robb, his wife Talisa (who was expecting their first child) her parents aptly named 'Mother' and 'Father', her favorite sibling, Jon who was presently enduring Basic Training for the military closer to home than herself. Yara's younger brother, Theon Greyjoy who happened to be one of Gendry's dorm mates, Tommen and Marcella Baratheon, who were Gendry's step-siblings and finally Margaery Tyrell, the fourth member of the dorm house she was sharing with Sansa. In one way or another all these people were necessary in her day to day, and beyond talking to her brother Jon, requesting money from her parents (and weekly scolding from her mother for tormenting Sansa) the only one who particularly mattered to her was Gendry.
As if on cue she was receiving a text from her 'bestie', the notice coming through as she pondered over deleting Sansa all together from her phone, flipping over to her messages before laying against the cold of the bleacher seat, its cold metal causing her to hiss with discomfort as she laid down, her sports bra still wet from her run, using her book bag as a pillow as she looked up at her phone with a narrowed gaze, the rising of the sun causing her to squint. "You at the track?" written crudely in text speak, typical to Gendry as she smirked, typing back confirmation of her place, and bitching about Sansa for good effect. He was quick to respond, "I can see you." Causing her to jerk up quickly looking around herself for him in the direction of the university, and back over the track for him. She began squinting to the opposite end of the field towards a dark approaching figure who waved back with their left arm at her from his far off position causing her to gather up her belongings, stuffing her water bottle into her backpack before slinging it over her shoulder, her keys on the lanyard swinging in her hand as she jogged up to him, his figure coming into focus as she drew nearer.
Gendry wasn't a particularly fat boy, though his weight would say otherwise, his body was made of nothing but steel, over his arms, his powerful legs and his wide barrel chest which was hard to the touch, particularly when she touched it, due to him being ticklish and sensitive. He was taller than her by quite a lot, which wasn't saying much as she was short in comparison to everyone she knew, including Sansa, much to her chagrin. His once thick brown hair was buzzed short over his head, his face carrying the faintest of morning stubble as he came close. He was wearing the school sweater, its absolutely massive size was stretched over his chest and arms, his father a great football star once upon a time and handing off the title of his son when he aged up, gaining the school symbol of a crowned stag and the word 'BARATHEON' over the shoulders of the yellow and black hoodie. He was supposed to be a prodigy, but it hadn't been long before his passions overtook his fathers dream for him, so much could be said for the drama of the Baratheon family, and Arya's growing disdain for Gendry's step-mother, Cersei, who so happened to be one of Sansa's teacher and personal hero. A loose pair of jeans fitted over his legs stretched as he walked, Arya jumping into his arms for a crushing bear hug.
Gendry was one of few people who could hug her and not choose to complain about her, or any smells she was currently donning. Sweat still covering her, half dried along with shower water from earlier. His warm hug was a welcome change from the chilly air around them. He didn't even have to think otherwise, pulling his sweater over his shoulders as he threw it over at her, as she pulled away from his embrace, now a swath of warm fabric, smelling of his body spray, motor oil and detergent. He had begun talking to her as they made their way from the track together as she struggled to pull the huge hoodie over her head and arms, absolutely swimming in it, its edges just touching at the edge of her knees, hands needing to pull the fabric up her arms to be visible as she kept up with his long strides by nearly jogging.
"Davos wants to start working on one of the old machines today, teach me all there is to know about muscle cars. I'm not going to tell him that Dad taught me all about them with his Firebird years ago. Probably when I was about your size." Gendry smiled, his grin pulling over his face as he leant over to rub her head, shaking his hand dramatically, "God you're a sweat monster today. Gross."
"You're starting to sound like Sansa." Arya sounded back, pulling her bangs back behind her ear, noting she would either need to take the scissors to her hair soon, or invest in stealing Sansa's hair ties. The last time she had hacked away at her hair, she had gotten an earful from Catelyn for the offense, looking like a boy until it grew out, shaggy and messy. Gendry smeared his sweaty hand down the front of her face as she yowled like an angry cat in laughing protest, swinging her bag to hit him square in the chest, him hardly moving to the action against him, pulling the bag from her hand easily, swinging the heavy sack over his shoulder. "She decided it was a good idea to steal my bowl from the cupboard today. Ever since she got that notice to go into that Sorority, she's been a total priss about everything. Would you believe it if I told you she was going on about Joffrey again? Shes all over the idea of dating him."
Gendry rolled his eyes, "Well she's shit out of luck there, Joff has his eyes on Margaery. So, its pretty unlikely that he's going to look at her as anything more than a plaything if it comes down to it." Gendry had the misfortune of being the son from a relationship long since over, living with his father for about a year after being rescued from Foster Care after his birth mother had died. It wasn't soon after that that he had learned his father already had a new family with Cersei and had fathered three other children. To say Cersei was displeased with this news would be an understatement, and she had refused to allow Gendry to live with them, even more unhappy to find out that one of his fathers work friends had used company funds Robert had earned to not only earn Gendry a scholarship at Thrones, but also had paid for his living situation as soon as he found out that Gendry was his prodigal son. Gendry had an apartment waiting for him when he finished school and was hoping to complete his schooling and apprenticeship so to pay back his father's generosity. It was an understatement to say he had a strained relationship with his half-siblings, Joffrey in particular, but the rumor mill was a beautiful thing.
"That's gross." Arya huffed, defensive over Sansa despite herself "He's such a loathsome little bastard."
"Hey, don't lump me in with him. I'm a bastard you know." Gendry joked, turning to Arya who smiled to herself, punching him in the shoulder, despite it hurting her hand to do so. Gendry smiled himself as Arya twisted over to jump on his back, him carrying her lightness as though she was another one of her backpacks, the long sleeves of his sweater draping over his shoulders and looping around his neck as he hiked her up against him, continuing his walk from the track to the nearby parking lot. "And loathsome, huh? Somebody's been paying attention in class."
"You're a bastard, but you're nothing like Joffrey. Not all bastards are absolute bastards through and through. Joffrey is a different breed. And I pay attention in class. I have a pretty profound grasp on the English language when I really want to." Arya held tight to Gendry's back, the wind picking up as they entered the parking lot, cars littered here and there, the sun picking up over the windshields of a line of the faculty members cars lined up neatly, some with bumper stickers dictating pride for their school, but notably as though called from hell herself, Cersei's red Mercedes carried two separate stickers, one for Baratheon, and its noted stag, but also her old school sigil, the lion of Lannister hosted in red and gold shades above the weathered Baratheon sticker. "It's so tempting to do something to that car."
"Don't I know it." Gendry responded, his guts filling with knots of anxiety upon spotting her car, one he had often imagined splashing in paint thinner, but had fixed more times than he wanted to admit, his father's new wife sneering at him all the while they spoke. If hate was a tone of voice, Cersei was more than capable of layering her own with it and stabbing at him like a weapon. The boy they never wanted. The bastard his father was forced to deal with. Whatever malice Cersei had in her, had quickened in her womb in the form of Joffrey and he was just as hateful as she could be. Her precious first born, spoiled and coddled, his soft hands bunched into fists at the realization of Gendry's existence, but pampered and doughy with his mothers doting affections. He was soft where Gendry wasn't, and it took him a great deal of effort not to dig his calloused hands into Arya's tense calves as they walked past.
"I'm hungry." Arya managed to complain as they got out of the parking lot, sliding off Gendry's back to numb feet from the intensity of his grip, bouncing on the spot to bring feeling back into them. "We should get breakfast, or head back to your place, so I can grab a shower and change out of this. And then I can grab something to eat." She nodded on the spot, nodding as if agreeing with herself for this decision, Gendry crossing his arms in a match to herself, the sweater sleeves hanging in front of her.
"I can't bring you back to the dorm with the boys looking like that. And you showering over there is a big nope, after what happened last time." He rolled his eyes, remembering just how hard Loras and Theon had jabbed at him for days following Arya's impromptu shower, skipping through the hall of the dorm before Loras' surprised eye, towel barely hiding her modesty before coming out in another one of Gendry's sweaters. "And I don't want to be late for work anyways. You should just apologize to Sansa and get your bowls back." He knew it wouldn't go well, the tantrum inevitable as she stubbornly shook her head to and fro with disdain at the very consideration of APOLOGIZING to Sansa.
"SHE'S the one who decided to be catty. If I wasn't so broke, I'd go get my own bowls and leave them wherever I want to. She can be such a clean Nazi sometimes. Both she and Margaery are a nightmare to live with. I'll be happy when they both get accepted into the sorority and leave the house forever."
They were walking towards the shop together despite Arya's complaining. In essence, she was everything Sansa wasn't and getting accepted into the sorority was the only way for her to guarantee that she wasn't going to constantly have a second mother haranguing her for her messiness. Catelyn's constant complaining to her was just as annoying, hoping she too would join Sansa in the sorority house, but the chances of that happening were slim to none, no matter her connections or constant reminders.
"I don't think I could live with your mess either, to be fair." Gendry added, knowing he was riling her up at this point, but what was the point of being her best friend if not to totally drive her up the wall in the meanwhile? "Just be glad you won't have to live with them much longer. They are both pretty elite in terms of the social hierarchy. I don't think they will have any problem getting into the house."
Seaworth Auto was a small shop but the only one with the quality the others within the town had. Despite Davos missing most of his fingers on one hand, he was an effective mechanic, and an even better teacher, save for when it came to reading at the best of times. It was a good thing Gendry came when he had, else he might have been in trouble. He was a decent conversationalist, incredibly honest and straightforward with his expectations and never one to shortcut the truth when he needed to. It was true that he had been more introverted following the death of his son, but that only added to his growing passion in the shop and the work he did, reflecting well on Gendry's work ethics. The shop had three spaces for working cars and a scrap yard in the back. The walls covered in pictures of cars and old calendars, several towering shelves with scrap and tools making the small space even more cramped upon entry. The floor covered in aged grease stains, along its grey stone, but it felt homey, even to Arya who was wholly out of her element as Gendry pulled through the old red door in the back to the office space he shared with his boss. Davos was nowhere to be seen, Bronn, one of Gendry's fellow mechanics was sitting at the front desk, looking bored when they entered together.
"Hey kid, you're early for a weekend. Missed the shop so much?"
Bronn was a gruff man who looked like he sounded. He wore a stained pair jumpsuit copiously coated in paint and oil, tied at his middle, wearing a white muscle shirt long since given up on with a tear nearly taking the shoulder strap off, black oil dragging over his belly in finger sized drags which met at the loop of his jumpsuit knot. This ensemble was accented by equally stained steel toe boots, the toe tips torn from many heavy drops daring to try and sever his toes in the process, only saving him by the steel plate beneath. He left his long greasy hair loose, the dark strands curling from length at his shoulders, a scruffy beard playing at his chin, as he vigorously chewed at a piece of gum, reaching for another from a pack in his back pocket, shuffling slightly to grab at the foil package with a grunt.
Gendry allowed Arya to push past him as he spoke back to Bronn, "Well Exams are over now, so I wanted to get back to work as soon as possible. But it looks like you guys missed me more." He eyed a pile of papers haphazardly stacked in the inner portion of the desk, likely simple jobs he had to get to as soon as possible, oil changes, replacing spark plugs and radiator flushes, an ideal job for a virtual newbie to the job. Bronn crossed his hair arms with a nod, chewing harder as he eyed the pile.
"Oh aye, I'm three weeks off cigarettes and the gum was almost not doing it. Looking at that pile makes me itch for one. So, have fun with that. Davos is in the shop, working on a great bastard of a Dodge back there. I'm pretty sure street racing is making a comeback, given all the muscles we're getting in lately."
The word caught Arya's ear as she turned to Bronn, Gendry having started to shake his head, knowing just how much of a pain in the ass it would be for his apprenticeship, working on what he already knew over and over with the jobs that are showing themselves up in high frequency. He looked at the pile with an almost fondness now, knowing it would be a pleasure to do so, just to break up the monotony.
"Street Racing? Like, Tokyo Drift and Fast and the Furious?"
"Pretty much, but nitrous isn't actually as feasible as they are in those movies. In fact if you want to blow yourself up its pretty much a guarantee if you don't know what you doing."
Arya wasn't a car enthusiast, but she knew her way around them well enough, growing up with her father, who had a private interest in the subject, and an avid fan of NASCAR let her know as much as she needed to get by. That with Gendry at her side, whose dirty secret was his passion for the Fast and Furious franchise allowed her to know just about as much as was 'allowed' for a girl at the very least where racing common street cars was allowed. "Well, actually… It depends on your engine."
Bronn's eyebrows rose in approval as Gendry rolled his eyes, grabbing Arya by the arm, dragging her from his colleague, "Don't even get started on that. Its not worth getting him started on the whole street racing nonsense. It's a good way to get yourself killed, and you're dumb enough to do it." Arya laughed as she was dragged into the back, ignoring his jab as Bronn waved the two of them off, spitting his gum noisily into the nearest trash can.
The two of them walked into the garage, which was in fact the front of the shop itself, Davos could be heard over the clank of an engine grousing noisily over the quiet thrum of a radio that no one was really listening to in the emptiness of the shop itself, echoing through a cars steel skeleton. Arya always felt a kind of awe walking through the shop, all the things to look at and touch were similar to a museum in their own way, some things coated in a layer of dust and other well used and oiled.
Gendry approached the dark green Dodge Charger with a cock of his head, Davos' legs sticking out from beneath the car as it stood lifted above his head, held in place by two separate jacks exposing its extreme weight as Davos shifted to and fro, his gloved hand, augmented to fit his lack of fingers reached out for a tool just out of reach, Gendry bending down to pass him one of the socket wrenches as Davos jerked beneath with surprise, his head catching on something metal beneath the engine space, cursing loudly before sliding back out on a wide creeper with a growl before smirking at Gendry.
"I take it you're back then are you lad?"
"Looks like. You can't get rid of me for long."
"That's a blessing then isn't it?"
Davos was a portly man, stout yes, but burly in his own way, his arms similar to Gendry's in their musculature. He wore a full jumpsuit, stained like Bronn's with oil, a pair of old worn gloves on his hands, now being plucked off as he ran his clean hand over his balding head, his hair entirely white, a beard to match, the top of his head sunburned, the bridge of his nose similarly so and peeling as he looked over his apprentice with an approving smirk, "Well then we're going to start working on some muscle cars. I figured we might as well get you started on some of the classics before moving onto some personal projects. You've got some work out in the front with Bronn to keep you busy when I'm out."
"I was going to run to the diner before starting actually… grab something to eat, since the lady is feeling puckish, and I figured you two might want something yourselves."
Davos shrugged, his attentions already elsewhere as though he couldn't be particularly bothered one way or another. He was all business that one, and Gendry knew it would take a black coffee and a Bear Claw to get him feeling particularly talkative so early in the morning. Bronn on the other hand was quick to hear the potential of food on someone else's dollar and made his way into the back, beside Arya before she could notice, having her startle with his sudden appearance, "I'll have a BLT on rye, easy on the mustard-… and a coffee. You remember how I like it don't you boy."
Gendry sighed, knowing he was beat as Arya had won on the breakfast bid, nodding towards Bronn, coffee in inevitability he expected but breakfast itself something entirely new. He was about to leave as he spotted a small covered lump in the far corner of the shop, almost out of view but new from his last of visiting, jerking his chin towards it, drawing Arya's attention towards it as he did. "Whats that?"
Davos looked around the shop until he found what Gendry was referring to, shaking his hand over his shoulder as he did so, "Ach, heap of junk Bronn pulled out of the pile in the back. Thought it might be something you might want to tinker around with as a side project."
Arya was on the shrouded object like a cat, quicker than Gendry, heading over on gentle steps, hopping over strewn tools to pull the heavy grey shroud off from the small item within, which turned out to be the scrap pieces of what could have been a promising bike of sorts. It was small, tiny almost and obviously far too small for Gendry, which made it a perfect side project for him as he would need to work extra hard on the smaller portions of it in the meanwhile. The wheels were long since missing, paint scratched until it was nothing but greyed out, its headlight smashed out. It was honestly a mangled mess, but Arya couldn't help but look at it like a friend in a fond, familiar kind of way.
"I think it's a Yahama. I'm not entirely sure what make, but it's got the makes for something worth a pretty penny if you can fix it up. It might even be worth the coin to fix it up. But not for me."
Gendry winced at the bike, his face pulled with disbelief as he did so, Arya running her hand over one of the twisted handles, her fingers coming up oily. "Well its definitely something, and if you think it's worth something, I can definitely give it a try, but I can't see it being anything particularly worth the effort."
"I like it." Arya piped up, turning to Gendry with wide excited eyes, a smiling playing on her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest, shoving the additional sleeves up her arms with annoyance at their continued rebellious slip down her wrists. Finally giving up, she planted her hands on her hips, "It's small but I think that you could probably turn it into something functional, Gendry."
"Maybe." He relented, rubbing his head with his bare hand, reaching for a nearby rag to hand to Arya so to clear the oil she had gathered in her curious touching. "Well time waits for no man, we should grab something to eat before I get started, and before you starve to death." True to form, despite his kindness in giving her a cloth she reflexively stuck her tongue out at him for his jab. Offering the greyed out rag back to Davos, she turned with Gendry's retreating back, eyes lingering on the dilapidated bike as they headed towards the café, curiosity lingering as they exited the shop.
(AN: If you like what you've read, please feel free to review and subscribe.)