A/N: Since I've only read the first 2 books, I'm not sure how much of this is spoiler and how much is AU. Just to be safe, if you don't like being spoiled, you probably shouldn't read. And if you've read the books and some things are different (I've made a few major changes), please bear with me, I'm just having fun. If you can call this story fun lol

Disclaimer: none of them is mine *bursts into tears*


The first time No One is attracted to a man, she's four-and-ten.

She ignores it.

After four years of training with the Faceless Men, she was finally assigned her first mission today, and she has other things to worry about than this newfound lust.

But that's not the real reason why she chooses to keep walking instead of stopping to take a second look at the man who caught her attention.

The real reason is that this sharp pang of need, this tightening in her stomach, this wetness between her legs, were not brought by sight or touch, they were brought by sound and smell, and she doesn't like it. She doesn't know why, but she somehow senses that the smell of sweat and hot metal and the sounds of hammer on anvil should not have aroused her. Long buried memories try to break to the surface, but she doesn't let them. She has no idea why her old self chose this life instead of the one that was meant for her, but she trusts both this girl she doesn't know anymore and herself, and she knows, deep down, that everything is for the best.

She just wishes that those sounds wouldn't follow her as she walks down the street.

She never walks past the forge again.


The second time No One is attracted to a man, she's five-and-ten.

She doesn't ignore it.

She's drinking ale in a tavern when he walks in, and something about his tall built, strong shoulders and coal black hair calls to her.

All she has to do is smile at him, and he's sitting next to her, placing a warm hand on her leg. She doesn't hesitate, though her decision has as much to do with curiosity as it does with lust. He looks surprised as she stands and leads him to a bedroom, as if he hadn't expected her to be so forward, and she knows why. The face and demeanor she chose for her next mission are those of a shy girl. But there's nothing shy in the way she tells him to take his clothes off, or in the way she stands naked in front of him.

She wants to keep her eyes open, but as he starts sliding in and out of her, she has to close them so that she doesn't see his.

She doesn't know why, but green is just wrong.

She leaves right after he's done, with nothing to show for this new experience but a slight soreness between her thighs and a vague feeling of emptiness.


The first time Arya Stark sets foot in Westeros after a seven year long absence, she's seven-and-ten.

She's been No One for so long that she doesn't feel much at the sight of snow, though she remembers how much she used to love it. She tightens her coat around her slim body, her time in the free cities having lowered her resistance to cold.

Her career with the Faceless Men came to an early end when she refused to kill an infant without some kind of explanation, and No One became someone again.

She doesn't bother hiding her true face. Almost everyone who might be able to recognize her is dead, and she has every intention of killing most of those who aren't. Besides, she's changed so much that she doubts her own mother will recognize her.

She soon learns that her mother will never recognize anyone again, and when she is told the story of the Red Wedding by someone who doesn't know who she is, she adds another name to her list.


When he hears that Walder Frey has been murdered and that the assassin managed to get away unseen, Gendry smirks and makes his way to King's Landing.

He's been waiting for this moment for over seven years. Never once did he doubt that she would come back. Hot Pie tells him that he's stupid to be going south, that Arya Stark, since he now knows that this is who Arry really was, will want to go back to Winterfell, and that if he really wants to find her, that's where he should go. But Gendry shrugs his objection away. She will eventually go back to her old home, Hot Pie is right about that, but not before she's taken care of her list. King Joffrey still sits on the Iron Throne, and this is something that Arya will not tolerate, not after the Lannister bastard murdered her father.

He's been away from the capital for so long that no one will recognize him, except, hopefully, for his old master. He still doesn't know why the Gold Cloaks were looking for him seven years ago, but he's supposed to be dead anyway, so he's not too worried about that.

Still, when Thobo Mott welcomes him back after making sure he's not going to be causing any trouble, he asks the old blacksmith to introduce him under a false name should anyone ask for a smith.

He starts working in the forge, and he waits.


When he hears that the Hound has been poisoned, he has a moment of doubt. He's always thought that poison was only used by cowards, and this is definitely not a word he would use to describe Arya Stark.

After a while however, he realizes that it's a smart weapon, especially when dealing with someone three times your size. No matter what she's been through, no matter how much training she managed to get, no matter how skilled with a sword or how quick she is, Sandor Clegane would have crushed her.

Besides, in Arya's mind, the end has always justified the means, and he doesn't think this is something that will ever change.

Happy with this reasoning, and with the fact that according to the map of Westeros he just stole a glance at, she's getting closer to King's Landing, he goes back to work.


The first time Arya Stark is attracted to a man, she's seven-and-ten.

She doesn't ignore it.

It's hard and fast and angry and better than anything she's ever known.

When she enters King's Landing a few weeks after killing the Hound, she easily finds her way to the nearest forge. Needle is dangling by her side and needs a bit of work. It hasn't been used in a long time, and the years it spent hidden didn't help. She needs it to be perfect, because this is the weapon she's going to plunge through Joffrey's heart after she's killed his executioner and his mother. She's already decided that she will behead Ser Ilyn and slit Cersei's throat.

The once familiar heat hits her hard as she steps in and asks a man who introduced himself as Thobo Mott if he could fix her sword. He tells her that he can't right now, but motions towards the back of the forge and tells her that if she's in a hurry, Lommy can do it for her. She frowns at the name but shrugs it off as a coincidence and thanks the old man. He nods and leaves to make a delivery to some nobleman's house, leaving her alone with his apprentice.

As she follows the song of steel to her destination, her hear starts to hammer in her chest and she takes a few deep breaths, trying to control her irrational reaction. Just because she's had to avoid forges in the last few years doesn't mean that she has any reason to be nervous today, even if she now knows why she had such a strong reaction to them when she was No One. With this in mind, she pushes a door open, and her breath catches in her throat. She's never really believed in coincidences, but she hadn't really expected to find him here either.

It takes a minute for him to notice her, and when he does, he slowly places the hammer on the anvil and waits, and she realizes that he doesn't recognize her. She's relieved, mostly, but just as she's about to tell him what she needs from him, his eyes focus on her face and widen.

"Arya?"

She's so shocked at hearing her own name that she doesn't react at first. No one's called her that in years, it sounds strange and foreign and like it's not really hers. But she quickly recovers and, now that there's no point in keeping up the pretence, she walks up to him and punches him hard.

His hand goes to his jaw and he winces at the pain there, but he doesn't waste any time. He hits her back.

She takes a step back, completely bewildered. She's taken a few punches in her life, but though this one was certainly not as hard as he could have made it, it hurt more than the others. He's watching her with an anger she would never have expected from him, and the unfairness makes her want to scream. He doesn't get to be mad at her.

"You left!" she yells, feeling strangely like herself for the first time in years.

"So did you."

"You left first!"

"You left longer. Damn it Arya! We could have talked it out. We could have… You could have waited before you did something so stupid…"

"Stupid?! I was trying to find my family, you damn…"

She can't finish her sentence, because his mouth is on hers. One hand holds her head while the other grips her hip, so she has no way of pulling away, and she knows he's doing it on purpose because he knows that she won't react well to his kiss. This pisses her off so much that she bites his lip, hard enough to draw blood. He gives a pained groan but doesn't release her, and suddenly she's kissing him back just as furiously, her own hands tangling in his hair, her tongue battling with his, her body pressing against his, finding him already hard.

The hunger she's never been able to satisfy suddenly roars to life. Because this… This is what she was looking for in those two anonymous men she was attracted to when she was No One. The hard planes of his body, the strength of his hands, the blue of his eyes, the playfulness of his smile, the warmth of his skin. Him.

Either he understands her need or he's just as desperate as she is, because he pushes her against the wall hard, makes quick work of his trousers, pushes the dress she decided to wear in order to blend in up around her hips, rips her smallclothes apart and buries himself inside her just as she wraps her legs around his waist.

There's no pause, no meaningful look, no whispered words, no tender touch. He pounds into her and she bites his shoulder to keep from screaming out loud, years of not knowing what she was looking for followed by months of trying to get over the fact that she would most likely never see him again making her want to laugh and cry at the same time.

She will have bruises from where his hands are holding onto her as if she's going to vanish again, and he will have scars from where her nails are digging into his back, but this is exactly what she needs.

Her release comes quicker than she would have liked, she wants this moment to last for as long as possible, but soon she's shattering around him, and he's following her into oblivion, and they're holding onto each other so hard that she doesn't know if they're trying to make sure the other is really here, or if they're trying to punish each other.

"Gods, Arya, I missed you."

She pushes him away, and he awkwardly stumbles backwards. She can't take this. Can't take the emotion in his voice, can't take the hurt in his eyes, can't take what she knows he's about to say.

"Yes, well, I'd say I missed you too, but for the better part of seven years, I didn't even remember you existed, so I didn't."

And out of all the lies she's ever told, this might just be the biggest one. Not remembering him has never kept her from missing him. She just hadn't known what it was she was missing.

He looks shocked, and she averts her eyes when she realizes she's said too much already.

"What happened to you?"

"It doesn't matter. Can you fix Needle?"

She can see that he's about to argue, so she shoves the small sword in his hands. Only then does she notice that he's still completely naked, and she gets a strange feeling in her left cheek. It takes a while for her to understand that she's fighting the urge to smile. She can't remember the last time she smiled.

Yes. Yes she can. She was by the river washing pots with Lommy and Hot Pie, talking about knights and armors, and he joined in, drawing a rare smile out of her.

Wordlessly, he places Needle on the anvil, puts his trousers back on, and starts working. She hops herself up on the nearest barrel, and for a fraction of a second, it's as if they're back in Harrenhal. He must notice it too, because he gives a half smile, but the illusion is gone as quickly as it appeared.

"I tried searching for you, you know."

His words startle her as much as the mere fact that he spoke. He never used to speak when he was working, both because he needed to stay focused and because keeping up a conversation over the constant noise was too difficult. But it doesn't seem to bother him now. She suspects it has something to do with the fact that he's probably been wanting to say this for over seven years.

She sighs. When she ran away, she didn't give a second thought to what it might do to him. After what he'd done to her, she didn't really care.

For a while, she hated him more than she hated anyone else, more than she hated Joffrey. Joffrey has always been the enemy, his actions have brought pain and despair and loathing, but never surprise or betrayal. Gendry on the other hand was a friend, and friends are supposed to stick together. It took months before she managed to think about him without feeling the urge to strangle him. And just as she'd finally calmed down, she found the Faceless Men, and it didn't seem to matter all that much anymore.

"I almost added your name to my list."

She almost hopes her quiet admission won't be heard over the sounds of the hammer, but he stops working to look at her, his face unreadable. That's something else that's changed. She used to be able to tell everything he was thinking just by looking into his eyes.

"Why didn't you?"

She doesn't want to tell him that every night before falling asleep, she would try to say his name out loud along with those of every single person who had ever hurt her or her family, and every night she would choke at the thought of his death. She never made it past the first syllable.

"You weren't worth the trouble."

His eyebrows rise up to his hairline, but he doesn't comment. They stay quiet until he finishes working on her sword, and when he hands it back to her, she leaves a couple of coins on the anvil, and she leaves without another word.

He doesn't ask her to come back.

He doesn't need to.


The news of Cersei's death nearly shatters the very foundations of the realm, and Arya knows she has to wait a few weeks before she can get to Joffrey. It doesn't matter. If the years have taught her anything, they've taught her patience. Besides, waiting doesn't seem so bad right now, as she moans and sighs and groans and screams and curses under Gendry's hands and lips.

He's driving her crazy, and she doesn't know which one of them is enjoying it the most.

Probably her, she decides as her body shakes with her orgasm and he finally thrusts into her, bringing her over the edge for the third time tonight.

He wraps his arms around her afterwards and she tenses. He's never done this before. When she tries to get away, his arms tighten around her.

"Gendry…"

"Stay."

"I…"

"Don't tell me you can't."

"Maybe I just don't want to."

"I don't believe you."

She turns around so that she can see his face, and his arms allow it when he realizes she's not trying to get up. His eyes are closed, but when he feels her stare, he opens them.

"Why not?"

"Because if it was just about sex, you would have had enough after the first few times."

He's right, of course. Not to mention if it was just about sex, she would be satisfied with any random man. But it's him she comes back to night after night. She sighs.

"You know I'm going to leave as soon as Joffrey is dead. I have to go back to Winterfell."

Especially if what she's heard is true. Because there's one last name on her list. The Bolton bastard is going to die, and Winterfell will go back to her family, even if she and her sister are all that's left of it.

"So I'll come with you."

"You'd leave King's Landing?"

She didn't bother keeping the surprise out of her voice, and he finally releases her so that he can get a better look at her. After a few seconds of silence, he asks "Why do you think I came here in the first place?"

She frowns. She hasn't really thought about it. She just thought it was luck that brought them both here at the same time when they'd both been away for so long.

"I don't know," she admits.

"I knew you were coming, Arya. Who else would have murdered Lord Frey? He was so old he only had a few months left anyway. All his enemies had to do was wait. But you needed to kill him."

"You came here to wait for me," she finally understands.

"Yes."

She wants to ask him why, but she's afraid of the answer, so she doesn't.


With Joffrey dead, Tommen becomes king, and even though he's a Lannister, Arya decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. He used to be a good kid, and without Cersei by his side, she's sure he can become a decent man. The matters of the realm have never really interested her anyway. All she ever wanted was to finish her list.

For the first time since she came back to Westeros, she hides her true face to travel. It's safer to assume a new identity for a while. Actually, it would have been safer to assume a new identity to kill him, but she wanted him to know who she was and why he was dying. She doesn't think anyone saw her, but still.

She transforms before Gendry's eyes and his gasp makes her smile. She's never used her tricks in front of anyone before, but suddenly it just doesn't feel right for him not to know what she's capable of.

She tells him everything.


The King's Road brings back dozens of memories as they stop at the same places where they made camp when they were travelling with Yoren. The difference is that this time they make it to Winterfell.

It's colder than ever and grey and grim and crumbling, but it's home.

Gendry is by her side when she snaps Ramsay Bolton's neck, kills every single one of his men, and reclaims the North for the Starks.

That's when she admits to herself that if she only lets him, he will be by her side for the rest of his life.

She's had trouble believing it until this moment. He's not adverse to violence when it's about survival, but she was sure that once he saw her kill someone in cold blood, he would see her for who she is and leave.

He doesn't.

Sure, he knew, but she thought that knowing and seeing were two very different things.

When she confesses her previous fears, he shrugs.

"If someone killed you, I'd kill them."

And he does.


When Jon comes to visit from the Wall, it only takes her a second to realize that it's not him, but it's a second too long.

The assassin who stole her brother's identity runs his blade through her stomach. She stays conscious just long enough to see Gendry grab her dagger from where it's attached to her leg and throw it at the man's back. He gets lucky.

When she dies, she doesn't know who hired a Faceless Man to kill her, and neither does Gendry. But they both know that she has no shortage of enemies, and that any one of them could have ordered her murder.

He starts his own list that day.


Fin