"You alright?"

Gendry held the hand of the girl beside him. That contact made him shiver, her fingers were as cold as icicles.

Arya looked up to Winterfell: a pile of burned rubble and ruined towers were now the shape of her home.

It was hard, but she wouldn't go away, not when she had risked their life to come back, not when her home was so close.

"I don't know." Arya held back his warm hand. She couldn't lie to him, she didn't want to.

Gendry sighed, his frozen breath looked like a white mist, unable to cheer her up; to him, his home town was clustered houses, smelly streets, thick air. But Winterfell, to Arya, was her parents, her brothers, her sister, her past, her childhood.

Fresh snow and mud clung to their boots, making their climb more tiring, moreover cold winds from North slowed them down.

"Are you cold?" Arya asked, her nose and cheeks were bright red, but she looked fine with that harsh temperature.

"A bit." a slap of wind hit his face as his frozen jaw was aching. He was freezing to death.

"You're freezing to death." it sounded like a fact, not a question. She smiled and stopped, pulling him into her arms.

"Be patient, hold on. We'll be there in a bit and we'll rest and warm us." she was whispering, her face close to his. Her warm breath tickled his jawbone.

And then she rose on her toes to join their lips in a chaste kiss, a desperate touch, a dire need of him.

Their lips were burning like wildfire when that kiss became passion, desire, fire.

It lasted moments, minutes, hours, days… Gendry didn't know exactly, but when they divided, he felt like it was far too soon.

"Let's go."

Gendry nodded, smiling like a fool in love.

*

They arrived in front of what was left of the gate when the sun was setting behind the horizon.
For a moment, Arya's eyes shone: the walls, once grey and impressive, were now black and jagged; the gate was burned, ruined; some towers were roofless.

"Have you seen? There are so many people."

From afar, they had seen smoke from the rubble and they have noticed footsteps in the snow; however they haven't figure that a hundred of people were deep in Winterfell's rebuilding.

"Ohi, you two."

Both turned their looks: Gendry raised a brow while Arya stilled immediately.

A young girl, probably as old as Arya, taller and wider than her, with broad shoulders and long dark hair, was staring at them. Her glance full of grudge, fury, pride and honour.

Gendry took a step forward, uncertain.

"Stop!" she warned him, unsheathing her sword. It was a long and wide sword, clearly heavy and well sharpened.

Arya touched her sword's hilt, staring at her. She looked at her as a wolf would stare a prey. She was studying her, she was looking for her weaknesses. She was still and lethal.

"I know what you want to do." the girl cried, lowering the blade, her eyes were slowly slipping from Arya to Gendry.

"You want to steal, to take something that doesn't belong to you. There's nothing left here, thieves already had sullied these rocks and these corpses. So, get out of here if you don't want to die. You need a place to have sex? The woods will be perfect for you. There's no room for thieves."

Arya turned her face towards Gendry, his cheeks as red as a shy maid's face.

"Are you a Stark? Is this your home town?" Arya's voice was husky, ailing.

"I am Lyanna Mormont, youngest daughter of Lady Maege of House Mormont. My mother and my sister fought for the King in the North and we sworn loyalty to him. Now I'm tired of our face, go away little beggar and stupid smith.-

"And what is a lady doing in this… place?" Arya asked, leaving the hand from the hilt.

"What you think? I'm protecting Winterfell. This is my last warning. Even if I'm a young lady, I have no fear to cut your heads off."

Arya took a step forward, determined to go in.

Here we stand, she thought as Lyanna was still in front of the gate. She knew she had to pay attention to her long sword and even a little error would cost her her head.

When Gendry's hand closed to her wrist, she was caught out.

The smith was pale and his blue eyes were wide open.

"Arry." he whispered, pulled her towards him. "We should go."

With a nod, he pointed over the armoured lady: three archers were focused on them.

"Afraid of arrows?"

However, Gendry was looking for something else. His eyes were on a huge beast with yellow eyes and black fur. It was the biggest wolf Gendry had ever seen.
A direwolf. He thought, recalling Arya's stories about Nymeria and its brothers and sister.

She followed his glance and for the second time, she stilled her body.

"Don't meddle, alright?- Arya said, staring at the black beast.

In a while, the direwolf overtook Lady Mormont and it jumped on Arya, knocking her down.

Gendry was petrified as Lyanna was smiling.

"This is-" Lyanna started, but some laughter stopped her. Arya, covered by that giant wolf, was laughing like a child.
"Shaggydog. Stop, please!"
The direwolf was licking her face, the big black tail was waving happily and just for a while, Gendry thought it was a dog. Then he saw its big and sharpened white fangs and how close they were to Arya's throat.

Lyanna Mormont got close silently. Her sword held in her right hand but in her face there was no trace of dangerousness. She was surprised.

"Shaggydog?" a child's voice called the beast. The wolf glanced up and stared at a young boy with long auburn hair.

Arya sat on the ground, her eyes hesitating on Lyanna's sword.

Bran. She thought staring at the boy. No, Bran should be about fourteen and he's just a child of nine.

"Rickon!" she cried, standing up.

"Arya!" he called, running toward her.

"Princess Arya, I'm so sorry to have insulted you… calling you beggar and thief and…"- Lady Lyanna's face was red, full of shame.

In that dining hall, all the men and women were together to have dinner. They'd sung chorus, they had made toasts to their lost princess and now Arya was free to relax with her brother and Lady Lyanna.

"… and about shagging in the woods. I'm speechless, I didn't kno-"

"Oh, that was funny. You brought a blush on Gendry's cheeks. He looked like an embarrassed silly lady." After some glasses of wine, Arya was very talkative.

She looked at him, set between two lord's bastards. A silly and happy smile was enlightening his face and his red cheeks suggested he was drank as well.

There will be no moon or stars to spy on us, tonight. She thought blushing.