It was amazing how three simple words could irritate her so much. Every time she dropped by the forge and assigned a task to the stupid blacksmith he would bow his head and utter the three words that would infuriate her to no end, as m`lady commands. She did not understand why he made her so angry. After all he was just being polite. As much as Arya wished to deny it, she was a Lady. As the youngest daughter to Lord Eddard of House Stark she was born into that title, no matter how much she despised it. Ser Jory would always refer to her as `little lady` and other strangers would greet her as `my lady` or `lady Arya Stark` and none of these phrases ever seemed to bother Arya at all. But when the words slipped from his lips, Arya wanted nothing more than to punch the stupid blacksmith in his stupid face. Yet Arya kept coming to him. No matter how tedious the task, she would command him to perform it and again he would bow his head and say, "as m`lady commands." Even when she didn`t need anything, she would make up some work that needed to be done and with everyday that passed, she found herself assigning the Blacksmith more and more tasks. He was like a drug, it was odd at first but after the repeated exposure it had become addicting.
Things were different that morning. She had overused Needle and the blade was too dull to even nick her skin. A valyrian steel blade could never be tarnished, it only made sense that Arya Stark would find a way to prove that statement false. So she had come down the forge that morning in hopes that Gendry could sharpen Needle for her. She entered the forge and saw Gendry hammering at a piece of steel. He did not see her come in, so she waited and watched him forge the lovely piece of armor. Arya loved spending her time at the forge, the flames of the fires were so hot that Arya scarcely remembered it was currently winter. The forge smelled just like he did: of sweat, earth and smoke. Most people would be repelled by the smell but, the scent was almost intoxicating to Arya. She saw him beat away at the steal and watched his muscles tense with each blow he sent. Sweat pooled at his forehead, leaving the tips of his hair clinging on to his face. Her stomach lurched when she saw him like this but, Arya ignored the feeling. She perched herself up onto a piece of unused anvil and waited for the smith to finish. When he did, he turned and his eyes widened in shock when he saw her but he did not seem to be entirely surprised. She had been seeking his help more times then she could count and it would have probably been more of a surprise if she was not there.
He bowed to her "and what services does m`lady have in store for me today?" he asked.
Arya bit her bottom lip as she handed him the sword, "can you sharpen it?" she asked the blacksmith.
Gendry`s blue eyes met hers and there was some kind of an emotion behind it. There was always something strange about the way he looked at her, it was like his eyes were telling her something his lips refused to speak. No one had ever looked at her the way Gendry did. Arya was normally good at reading expressions, it was one of the reasons why she was so talented at cyvasse. She could read the hesitancy in her opponents eyes and was good at deciphering a person`s true intent by simply noting the expression on their face. Gendry`s expression always alluded her, he did not wear a mask-like expression but, he carried an expression that Arya had never seen before - at least one never directed at her. But this time when he bowed his head and his blue eyes looked into her grey ones, she finally understood what the Blacksmith had been telling her all along. That day, she was amazed to discover that when he was saying "as m`lady commands", what he meant was, "I love you." And even more amazing was that day she realized she truly loved him back.