Spoilers for Storm of Swords
Oh Gendry :)
Gendry found Lady Stoneheart frightening. No shit - he was human, wasn't he? (Something he wasn't even sure Lady Stoneheart was, by the way.) He suspected the other Brotherhood members were equally scared shitless; they were just good at hiding it. Not about to be the only guy who couldn't man up (all that'd do is prove to everyone he wasn't Brotherhood material), Gendry kept his gaze trained a few centimeters above the Lady's rotting eyes and bent as steadily as possible into a respectful bow.
"M'lady," he said, and even kissed the Lady's cold, dry hand. A bit salty - like skin off a dead fish, he thought. He'd tasted worse.
When Gendry straightened up he saw Thoros give a slight nod of approval. That wasn't so bad, thought Gendry, feeling proud in spite of himself. He stepped back to let Lem greet the Lady next- when any relief went out of the window as the Lady chose that moment to grab Gendry's wrist. Her grip was shockingly bone-crushing for someone made of nothing but bones and shredded flesh. "Don't leave yet, Gendry," Thoros said. "Our lady would like a private word with you."
A word with me? Gendry tried to stay calm as the all the other Brothers exited the tent one by one, leaving just him, the Lady, and Thoros. The Lady still wasn't letting Gendry go or relaxing her grip.
She's not going to kill me, Gendry reminded himself. At least, he hoped not. "Speak freely, m'lady," he mumbled, forgetting his manners. He was too busy trying not to wrench his hand away before he lost feeling in it altogether.
She spoke.
It was the most horrendous sound Gendry had ever heard, and he was so distracted by the chills crawling up his spine to distinguish a single word of what Lady Stoneheart was saying. The Lady seemed to sense this, because her grip tightened and she leaned closer. The stench of corpse filled Gendry's nostrils. The Lady clutched her throat and choked, rasping and croaking, until Gendry, amidst doing all he can not to gag or cower, realized that she was repeating one word over and over.
"Arya?" repeated Gendry.
The transformation in Lady Stoneheart was astounding. All at once the Lady's hand fell limp and she turned away, pulling her cloak around her. Suddenly she was not a bloodthirsty demon anymore, but a tired, weakened ghost. She sank to a seat and sat there mutely, not looking at Gendry or really anything in particular.
In the silence Thoros put a hand on Gendry's shoulder and led him a few paces aside. "Arya from House of Stark is her daughter," he said quietly.
"What?" A witty response that was, but Gendry was too taken aback.
"Our lady was once Lady Catelyn Stark before she was betrayed and killed by the Freys at the Red Wedding. She is the little she-wolf's mother."
Arry is Lady Stoneheart's... daughter?
As that sank in, Gendry couldn't believe he didn't make the connection earlier. Just a few days ago, before the Brothers formally introduced Lady Stoneheart, Gendry had heard the little ones at the inn jabbering away about some giant wolf that dragged a dead woman from the river. Wolf. Of course.
Gendry glanced back at the Lady Stoneheart, who didn't seem to hear them. Or if she did, she didn't care. "But Arry," whispered Gendry. "I mean, Lady Stark's daughter... she's..." Kidnapped. Missing. At worst, possibly-
"She knows," said Thoros. "But you should understand - she thought her daughter was dead all this time." Thoros sighed. "Not surprising that she'd have a hard time believing Arya Stark was with us, alive and kicking, until just a little while ago. It's too bad... Well, you know."
Too bad that they were so close, thought Gendry. He remembered escaping Harrenhal with Arry and Hot Pie, and how everytime he and Hot Pie wanted to rest, Arry'd always egg them on like a slave driver... her impatient face as she yelled at them to hurry... wasn't it all because she was desperate to see her mother again? Gendry didn't remember his mother that well, but he did have vague memories of how comforting his mother's hand felt on his head.
"You knew the girl longest out of all of us," said Thoros. "She was your friend, wasn't she?"
Gendry shrugged.
Thoros nodded towards Lady Stoneheart, who was still motionless, trapped in her strange trance, and gave Gendry a gentle push.
The phrase "waking the beast" came to Gendry's mind, but he approached her anyway. The Lady remained facing away from him, for which Gendry was grateful. He had never been a good speechmaker and being scared shitless didn't help his thinking process.
"M'lady," he began. Do not call me m'lady! "Your daughter, Arya..." It felt weird to call her that, because in his mind she'd always been Arry, the weird boy who fought like a rabid dog despite her tiny size. He still never recovered from his surprise the day he witnessed her beat up Hot Pie and Lommy. "She..." He hesitated, having no idea where to start.
Just then, the Lady raised her head. Her face was still as gruesome and hideous as ever, but something about it was different this time. Gendry didn't feel so afraid.
He was instead struck by this thought:
She may be dead, but she's still a mother.
He focused now on Lady Stoneheart's features, at all the ghastly details from the skewered wounds to the corpse-like skin. She looked nothing like Arya, and Gendry would never know if she once did when she was alive, but Gendry thought he see why they were indeed mother and child. Looking into the Lady's empty, bloody eyesockets, Gendry could read a determination as strong as steel, not unlike the gaze of a certain ten-year-old-girl calling him stupid.
He at last knew what to say.
"Wherever your daughter is, she's safe," Gendry told Lady Stark, his voice firm and confident. In that moment he knew what he said were not lies, but words he believed with all of his heart. "Arya's a fighter and a survivor. Always was and always will be. Just wait. She'll be back."
You won't let us down, will you, Arry?
He could picture Arya Stark's scowl as clear as day.
As rare as it was for him, Gendry smiled.