Arya, Gendry and Sansa are not mine to play with, but I've borrowed them just for a little time. Reviews are very welcome.
He turns around with a smile, expecting to see a different Stark woman. Which, in hindsight, was quite stupid, as you can never hear Arya's footsteps unless she wants you to. It is, however, her sister Sansa standing in the forge, making him feel too big and too clumsy for his job and for Winterfell. He mumbles a greeting he hopes is at least remotely similar to the one he is expected to use, and bows his head awkwardly.
- "I hope you are finding the forge and your room agreeable", she says, the way she always talks, with no hint of emotion.
Arya had a fit when, hours after arriving to Winterfell, Gendry told her he had found her sister terribly intimidating. "I am the one people should be scared of, you stupid bull, have you learnt nothing?", she had whispered in the depths of her family's Gods' Forest. She had smelled of wine, and soap, and of home, even though they were thousands of miles from any place he had ever lived in, and it had hit him exactly how desperately in love he was. He was quite sure, though, that whatever Arya said, his first assessment of Sansa had been far from wrong.
- "It is an honour to work in the Winterfell forge," he answers truthfully. Fuck the Brotherhood and fuck his pride. Taking care of the pigs would be an honour if it kept him close to Arya.
- "It would seem to me a more fitting honour, seeing how you have served my sister in her way from the Riverlands to the North, if my cousin named you Ser. Do you not agree?"
- "I know my place, m'lady. Your... your grace", he stumbles upon the words.
He's suddenly annoyed at Arya having so much time to tell him about silly stories from her childhood and not even a little to show him the courtesies that were expected of him. It's not that considers them really important, but he hates making a fool of himself.
He can see from the corner of his eye the first sign of feeling in Sansa's face since the night they celebrated Arya's arrival in Winterfell a few weeks ago. She purses her lips in the same way her sister does when she's deeply displeased, and it transpires he has given her the wrong answer. An uncomfortably long silence follows and, when all he hopes is for her to leave the forge and let him be, Sansa Stark sighs and hurts him worse than anything happening in all those years in the war.
- "Gendry, you do know blacksmiths do not marry princesses."
She states it calmly, softly, as the pain lies not in it being shouted, but in it being true. He wants to scream, and run away, and cry like a babe, but he stubbornly keeps his eyes on the ground as she follows after a moment:
- "Jon and I have rejected at least a dozen marriage proposals for my sister since she was known to be back in Winterfell. Proposals of good husbands from noble houses. You understand we cannot do this forever and, as long as she remains unmarried, suitors will continue to come to us."
He feels himself burning with anger, and jealousy, and shame, and The Seven know how many more feelings, and Sansa seems to sense it and her voice shows something that could be sympathy.
- "A Ser, however... And the princess not being the direct heiress... That could be arranged. That could be done. And the houses might be persuaded to accept it, given the circumstances with that particular princess and that particular Ser, you see?"
His heart skips a beat. Surely she can't be so cruel as to jest about this. He lifts his face and it is her turn to avoid his eyes.
- "I would like it very much if Arya married for love. I have never done it and I don't think I will ever have the chance to, but she could tell me what it is like, could she not? Love seemed to be such a wonderful thing when I was a child..." she says, almost to herself, her lips the start of a sad smile.
It takes her a moment to go back to the cold Sansa he has known during those weeks.
- "I will leave you a few days to consider and we will talk again. I only beg of you... if you do not wish to go through with this, if you love the forge more than you love her... she deserves to know how you feel."
That very night, as Arya sneaks into his room and under the blanket, all he can think about is how much brighter life is going to become.
