Edited 8/8/13

A/N: I was honestly so unsure as to whether I should post this or not…but I need something to vent my Gendrya feels. Season 3 has just been a rollercoaster of emotions…and I just can't stand to watch it. So I decided to write this modern AU fic to…vent…and prove the fact that they are perfect together.

I hope you enjoy!

- The Key to Happiness -

- Chapter 1 -

Arya Stark stared outside the car, idly watching the world go by quicker than she would have liked. She didn't mind the silence, as it had been her friend for many years. It was nice to see the world again, after all even though it was slightly daunting. The amount of days which Arya had spent in the hospital was countless, yet now she was out and her mother had demanded her to go back to Winterfell, to Jon and Robb and Theon. To old memories that she doubted would never stop haunting her.

"I think it'll be good for you," Catelyn Stark had said, with tears and regret in her eyes. The conversation had been in the hospital, a few days before she was about to leave. That day hadn't been a good one for her, like many others before that.

"No," Arya snapped harshly, "it won't. You don't find it easy to even look at Winterfell when you visit Edmure, so why would I find it easy to live there?"

Yet in the end Catelyn had convinced her live with Jon, who was her half-brother and his roommate. Jon had assured her that he was extremely nice and would understand. Understand what? Arya wanted to demand at the time, but she didn't. If there was one person who she trusted in the entire world, it was Jon, who she loved even more than her father. Had loved, Arya corrected herself dimly, even though it still hurt to think about. It would always hurt, though, she knew. There would be a hole where Ned Stark had been, a hole she doubted that could be ever filled.

After she had left the horrible and restraining hospital, her mother had driven her home to pack her things. Arya had hated it, sorting through old clothes and toys that she hadn't touched before he died. She could remember memories in most of them, even in the smallest things like a worn down top. It hurt most when she came across some of his old shirts that he had once given to her. Either way, she had swiftly swallowed down the lump in her throat, not wanting to cry in front of her ever worried mother. Arya had never really been close to her mother. It had always been her father who she would go to for problems. Even if she would have had boy problems - which she never had - she would have still gone to Ned.

"Sansa will be taking you," Catelyn had told her, folding a particularly nice pair of jeans that she had once worn to her father's birthday dinner. "She's coming down from Highgarden especially."

Arya wanted to ask why, but she didn't. Sansa and her weren't exactly on the best of terms. Arya knew she had been a paranoid bitch for the few weeks she hadn't been in the hospital after Ned died. I won't apologise, though.

"I also…I didn't know if I should've…" her mother began slowly, "I enrolled you in the university."

"Wasn't I already enrolled? I thought Tyrion Lannister taught my mythology class," Arya replied coldly, clearly displaying her opinion of the man.

"He does."

"Does?" Arya echoed and when she realised she wanted to crawl back to the hospital and stay there for a few more weeks or even better, forever. "So I'm still doing the same classes?"

Catelyn Stark pursed her lips and nodded. "I thought it would be good for you." Her mother had smiled sadly after that, as if she knew everything about what Arya had been going through.

Arya sighed wearily. Even thinking about her conversation with her mother before leaving made her feel tired all over again. The closer she got to Winterfell, the more she hated the idea of attending university. After Ned Stark had died, she missed so much school that the teachers had eventually given up on her, even going as far as to sending her to sick bay every lesson. Even when Arya did go to school, she couldn't concentrate, and would often sit at the back with her head in her arms. Lommy and Hot Pie had done their best to comfort her, yet she grew to loathe their company. It had been a blessing to her when Catelyn announced that they would be moving to Riverrun, though a curse when her mother had forced her to go to hospital after various incidents once they arrived.

At Riverrun it had been no better. For the short time she had stayed in the house with everyone, Arya had felt awful as she watched her family slowly crumble while she watched emotionlessly, not feeling any compassion or any need to comfort her family. The worst part was everyone continued to do everything, while Arya couldn't. There was no energy to get up out of bed and do anything. So she stayed at home, inside, left alone with her thoughts and silence. It was almost annoying that Sansa had it worse, because of Joffrey Baratheon. Yet Sansa Stark had taken it all in her stride while Arya had been sent to hospital.

Now, as Arya watched her sister drive them both to Winterfell, she couldn't help but note that Sansa was the one better off, the one who didn't have hollow cheeks and dull eyes. Her sister had moved to Highgarden after awhile of staying in Riverrun, moving in with Margaery Tyrell and her brother Loras.

"Why are you staring?" Sansa asked quietly, as they drove through the rain. It made Arya smile slightly to see the rain pouring down. She loved the cold, which was part of the reason why she had agreed to go back to Winterfell, as silly as it was. The cold was beautiful, the way the snow would whip her skin and the rain would wash away everything. When her sister saw that she wasn't going to respond, Sansa sighed. "Arya…" she began calmly.

"Don't," Arya interjected sharply. "You don't need to say anything."

"You know that's not true. I do need to say something…you look like you're going to cry if I don't."

"Do not."

Her sister smiled slightly and yet again Arya felt a pang in her chest as she was reminded that Sansa was the prettier one, the one who caught all the boy's attention. Theon Greyjoy, her older brother Robb's best mate, had always said so. Then again Theon had dated Sansa for a period of time, which was something Arya didn't particularly want to remember. He's better than Joffrey, she thought, anyone is, after what he did to Sansa. Joffrey Baratheon, the son of her father's closest friend, had been the worst thing to happen to them, other than the asshole's father who she just couldn't forgive. He's dead now, though, Arya thought.

When Robert Baratheon had died, his will demanded that Ned Stark take over Baratheon Corporations. Naturally, his beautiful and rather nasty wife Cersei Lannister had refused, stating that Joffrey was the rightful 'heir', as she called it, to Baratheon Corporations. At that time, Arya thought nothing of it and simply continued going to high school and preparing for university. Yet the stress took hold of her father, or at least that's what Catelyn claimed. Sometimes, Arya swore that Sansa gave subtle hints that it wasn't just stress and everything else that ended their father's life, yet she had never looked into it. How could she, when it even hurt to think about him?

Soft snow was beginning to form on the side of the road, a clear sign that Winterfell was approaching. Arya found herself gazing at the scruffy address written on a piece of paper. It would soon be her home, though she somewhat doubted that. The only home she would ever know was the one when her family had been whole. Even so, the idea of moving in with her half-brother was pleasant. Jon had promised her that there was another room in the house he shared with a mate and that the mate could cook.

"Cook?" Arya had repeated on the phone, when she heard, unsure how to reply. It had been the first thing he had mentioned, oddly enough.

"Yeah, he's not the best," Jon told her, "but he's better than me…and certainly better than you."

When her brother had said that, she offered him a quiet and forced laugh. She had felt his smile through the smile. That was how it was when she laughed or even smiled. Her family would look all proud and pleased even though sometimes Arya just faked it to reassure them that everything was fine. Everything was fine, though. It was normal to be upset when an extremely close and kind and considerate and amazing family member had died. It was normal to sometimes be incredibly upset when your family was falling apart.

"We're nearly there," Sansa said suddenly and when Arya looked out of the window she saw it was true. Houses had appeared, some small and others big and light snow was beginning to fall slowly. They were driving on the freeway which connected quite a few parts of Westeros together. Part of her wanted to peep out the window and see if she could see the big, empty building that had once been Stark Manor.

It took them several more minutes to reach Jon's house, which was on the far side of Winterfell, near the weirwood. When they arrived, Arya stared at the house for awhile, even after Sansa got out of the car. This is your home now, she told herself as she got out of the car and dragged her luggage out. The door was already open when Arya reached the front step and Sansa was talking to Jon politely, clearly tense. Jon and Sansa weren't exactly close.

"She's got all her stuff here, so…" Her sister seemed unsure how to continue which was understandable. Sansa Stark had always hated their half-brother somewhat for what he had supposedly down to Bran.

"Little sister." Jon was smiling as he approached her, vaguely ignoring Sansa. He hugged her straight away, wrapping his muscular arms around her rather skinny frame. Arya hugged him back, feeling unsure. Sansa simply watched awkwardly, her hands clutched together tightly. "Let's get your stuff in," her half-brother said warmly. She watched as he effortlessly lifted the suitcase and carried it inside.

"Arya…" Sansa began but hesitated. "I hope you feel happier here," she said, and quickly hugged her.

"Thanks, Sansa," Arya said honestly, smiling a little. Her older sister nodded, before hurrying into the car. The engine started and Arya watched as the window wound down and her sister's hand sticked out, waving as she drove away. Arya waved back unsurely, watching the car leave. This is it, them, she thought sadly. Jon appeared behind her a moment later, not letting her get lose in her depressing thoughts.

"Come inside, it's getting cold," he told her, patting her shoulder gently.

"Cold?" Arya said, frowning. "This isn't cold."

"You're a true Stark."

Arya said nothing and instead followed him inside the small apartment. The apartment was messy, but when she thought back to the time she had visited Robb and Theon's, it only made sense. There were dirty dishes in the dish rack and the rubbish bins were all filled with empty beer and dog food cans. To Arya's surprise, there were a lot of posters and photos stuck up around the walls. She spotted one of Jon with a dark haired and bright blue eyed man, standing in front of a building. They were both smiling, their hands forming thumbs up signs.

"Is that your room mate?" she asked, pointing to the photo. They looked like they were in King's Landing, which surprised Arya. She never expected Jon to be there, of all places.

"Yeah, he took me to King's Landing one time. His name's Gendry. Gendry Waters."

"He looks alright," Arya told him, mainly to please him and also because it was the truth. He did look quite nice.

Jon laughed before ruffling her hair. "Alright? That's a bit harsh, little sister. Now do you want to see your room or not?" Once she nodded, he led her up the stairs and on the second floor there looked to be four rooms, one of them a bathroom. Jon showed her his room, which had clothes everywhere and had the same items as it had when he lived with them – a few photos, some posters, his guitar and not much else. The other room, which was Gendry's, was fairly plain, except for the vast amount of clothes strewn across the floor.

"Do you guys know how to do washing?" Arya demanded sourly. Not even her room ever looked like this.

"Not really," Jon admitted, laughing.

Her room was at the end of the floor, and was small yet…fine. It had a double bed, like Gendry and Jon's room, with a desk, dresser and mirror. Even though it contained nothing personal, Arya couldn't help but feel a slight pang of happiness as she went in and lay on the bed, closing her eyes and breathing in the smell. It smelt like washing detergent but in a pleasant way. She had never had her own room, as Sansa and her had shared in Winterfell and when they moved to Riverrun. Yet this was hers, all hers and she could do whatever she wanted with it.

"I got an email from Tyrion Lannister the other day," Jon said suddenly, sounding uneasy. Arya felt queasy simply thinking of her mythology professor. Tyrion had never exactly done anything daunting to her, but he was a Lannister. She ignored the fact that whenever she had eaten dinner with the whole Lannisters, including Tywin and Jaime, he had only made friendly quips about anything in general, never participating in any particularly nasty conversations.

"What did it say?" Arya asked, ignoring the thought that Tyrion could actually be nice. He's related to Joffrey and Cersei and all of them, she thought coldly.

"Nothing much, just apologising about everything's that happened and asking if you were ready for this semester," Jon replied. "He was rather nice about it, I must say. He even apologised to me, even though he doesn't need to."

"Why couldn't he email me, not you?"

Jon laughed at her. "No one knows your email, little sister. Don't you remember?"

Yes, Arya did remember. She remembered telling Theon her email because he wanted to send her something. Then she had gotten all these stupid emails asking if she was single from his horny friends. She had never quite forgiven Theon because of that or a lot of other things. After that incident, Arya had changed her email extremely quickly and told no one except Lommy and Hot Pie. Yet they're gone, she thought sadly. Even though I might see them in Winterfell I doubt they'll ever want to speak to me.

Jon left her alone for the rest of the day and Arya spent it unpacking and reading the textbooks for mythology she had got in Riverrun from Catelyn. She didn't want to touch her graphics notes yet. Instead, Arya sketched a few designs for some characters of a game she had once started creating in her notepad to save for later. It had been years since she had worked on her game, for she completely stopped when Ned died. Now, though, it seemed only fitting to keep drawing up the designs as she was taking graphics in university.

Arya lost track of time as she began to sketch which was what usually happened. When she heard Jon shout her name from downstairs she started slightly. When she looked up it took her a moment to realise that the sun had set and it was dark outside. Jon was still shouting her name, claiming that Gendry was home and she should come and meet him. Will he hate me? Arya thought vaguely as she packed up her art supplies. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she saw a tall and muscular man standing next to Jon, chatting happily. They both stopped their conversation when they saw her.

"You're Arya, right?" he asked, holding out a rather large hand and smiling at her.

"Who else would I be?" Arya retorted moodily and for a moment she saw Jon falter and smile. It's because the 'old Arya' is showing, or whatever they call it, she thought. Truthfully, she had no idea where that retort came from. It had just happened. It's because he's an idiot. Who would ask something like that? Who else would I be?

Gendry frowned and smiled at the same time, withdrawing his hand. "Right, I'm Gendry Waters…you're brother's roommate."

She liked how he didn't say half-brother, yet she knew it was probably because it was a bit of a mouthful and no one really said that unless they meant offense to Jon. The only people she had known to do that were Sansa and Catelyn, though both of them had dropped the term after Ned died.

"What's for dinner?" Arya asked him, changing the subject rapidly even though it was obviously rude. She didn't care, though.

"Pasta," Jon told her, going to sit on the couch. "If you don't like it, order some pizza."

"Since when don't I like pasta?" she demanded.

Her brother rolled his eyes. "I'm not sure but you've always been fussy. Robb tells me all these stories about you eating when you were younger."

"Are you sure you're not mistaking Robb for Theon?"

Jon and Gendry laughed, which caused Arya to flush and she hurried upstairs. It felt weird, she realised, being around these two. She had never felt uncomfortable around Jon, yet…it was different this time. They both eyed her like she would break down at any moment and truthfully Arya felt like she would break down at any moment. She wanted Nymeria, yet her dog had mysteriously disappeared after Robert Baratheon died. Ghost, Jon's dog, was at Ygritte's, who according to Jon was looking after the dog. Whoever Ygritte is, she thought sourly.

Arya stayed in her room, sketching more designs until Jon called her for dinner. They all sat on the couch, yet no one made any move to turn on the television. She found herself briefly remembering her mum lecturing them about watching T.V while eating. Surely Jon didn't care for that or Gendry? Yet the two men were beginning to talk about classes, something Arya didn't want to think about. Why do people always seem to know exactly what you don't want to talk about and bring them up? she thought angrily.

"What classes are you taking, Arya?" Gendry asked, while chewing his food. She knew he was only trying to be nice but it still pissed her off.

She found herself wanted to lecture him on eating with his mouth open until she realised she simply didn't care. "Mythology and graphics," Arya told him sourly.

"I heard Tyrion Lannister's really good," he told her amiably, "if it makes a difference."

"It doesn't," Arya said shortly, a bit peeved that Jon seemed to have told bloody Gendry Waters everything. He didn't need to know her life story just because he was her roommate.

"It should," he said stubbornly, his jaw set, "and for graphics…I'm not sure of the teachers. I think Olenna Tyrell used to teach some of the arts."

"Nah, she quit," Jon interjected calmly, "not sure who teaches it now."

Jon and Gendry began to discuss teachers suddenly, leaving Arya to her own thoughts. She kind of liked listening to them argue and bicker and she realised that Gendry was as stubborn as herself, never shifting from his opinion. Arya found that she kind of liked that about him, if anything. It was probably the only thing going for him considering he was probably an idiot. No, he is, she thought.

"Who's Ygritte?" she asked suddenly, interrupting their conversation. She had wanted to know this for awhile, ever since Jon had called her for the first time once she got out of hospital and told her about everything going on in Winterfell.

Her brother and his stubborn roommate exchanged glances before bursting out laughing, both of them grinning at each other.

"What?" Arya demanded fiercely.

"It's nothing," Gendry told her through his laughs, "it's just…don't you know?"

"What?"

"That Ygritte and Jon…are fucking?"

For a moment her brother stopped laughing to glare at Gendry, clearly disliking his language. Arya didn't care, though.

"You're fucking this woman?" she asked angrily. "How come I didn't know?"

"Don't say it like that," Jon said, rolling his eyes, "but yes, I am. And you're my little sister...I'm not meant to tell you these types of things."

"When did you get so…brave and not...scared of girls?"

"Since when has he been scared of girls?" Gendry interjected, clearly looking for a story or two.

For a moment Arya considered shutting them both out, telling them to grow up. She would then go to bed feeling sad and lonely, the way it usually was. Instead, she found herself wanting to say something. "He always used to turn bright red – look there he goes."

True to her word, Jon was turning bright red and he instantly turned away when he found both of them looking at him.

"Well, you don't see him come out of his room bright red with Ygritte," Gendry told her, laughing.

Jon began to protest, beginning a list of all the woman Gendry had supposedly fucked. It was clearly long, though by the look on Gendry's face it seemed to be completely bullshit.

"I don't want to hear it," Arya snapped yet she was smiling slightly. She got up and went to the small kitchen, leaving them to continue arguing about girls and who they have had sex with.

"There's a lot," Jon continued, ignoring her. "Seriously, little sister, if you think I'm bad…"

"She was saying you were a blushing little boy, not some…" Gendry seemed at a loss for words.

"Man whore?" Arya offered, washing her plate. She could hear their conversation easily from the kitchen, as it was connected to the lounge. "I'm going to bed now, I've had enough of hearing who you two have slept with."

They both shouted various forms of good night at her as she climbed the stairs and went to her room. Arya began to get ready for bed, trying to hold onto the momentary happy feeling she had experienced while eating dinner. It had been small, very small, but she was meant to hold onto things like that. She got into the shower and stayed in there for as long as possible, letting the water slide over her as her thoughts kept becoming worse and worse as it always did. Most of the time things were fine when she was distracted, when she was with people. Yet at night or when she was alone...things just became horrible.

"It happens all the time," Arya remembered herself telling Jaqen H'ghar, her old psychologist. "I'm talking to someone…and suddenly everything's all great and I'm smiling…yet when I'm alone, I remember everything bad I've done, that my father's dead, that Sansa cries herself to sleep at night and I can barely function."

Jaqen had simply looked at her, with those weird eyes of his that Arya swore sometimes changed colour. "A girl is confused," he finally said.

"Yes, I am! Because I want to be happy, I want to be like my family, getting along perfectly fine. Instead I'm all stupid and pathetic and weak," she had told him angrily, annoyed at herself and everyone else.

"A girl isn't weak, simply…lost. Find a way to seek…happiness. A girl's own way."

Yet Arya hadn't found her own way of happiness still, even after nearly eighteen months of talking to Jaqen who had been in Harrenhall, a bit of a drive from Winterfell. He was a good psychologist and all, even with his weird way of talking, yet sometimes she felt like no one could help her. Even if she had stayed for him longer, even if they hadn't moved to Riverrun meaning she could no longer talk to him, she still doubted that someone could help her.

Arya felt like crying and suddenly she kept thinking and thinking as she dried herself with a towel, changed into her pajamas and went to bed. She kept thinking, remembering moments where she had yelled at Sansa cruelly, telling her sister that she was an idiot for going out with Joffrey and letting him do all types of horrible things to her. When she looked at her clock, she saw it was nearly two in the morning. Finally decided to get up and not wallow in self-pity in her bed and instead do it in the lounge, she got up slowly and got herself a glass of water from the bathroom before going downstairs. Every movement felt like it took too much effort.

The lights had been turned off, yet Arya found the switch easily enough and refilled her glass of water before sitting on the couch. Around her, more lights suddenly turned on and Arya swung around to see Gendry standing by the stairs, looking incredibly disgruntled, his dark hair all messed up. She did her best to ignore the fact that he didn't have a top on and he looked rather attractive without it.

"Sorry," he muttered quickly, "I just saw the lights on and I was wondering if…" Gendry stopped when he saw her expression. "Are you okay?"

No, Arya wanted to scream but she smiled slightly. "Just…y'know," she said emotionlessly. "The usual."

"No, sorry…I don't really know. Jon hasn't told me much."

"Oh yeah?" she retorted. "That's not what it seems like. You seem to know my whole bloody life story."

"I don't," he said immediately, and Arya was shocked to see his blue eyes full of honesty. "He's only told me that you were hospitalised, and a few other things. So no, I really don't know how you feel."

Arya ignored him and turned away from him, instead choosing to stare at the various posters and photos on the wall. To her surprise, she felt someone else sit down on the couch and turned to see Gendry sitting down next to her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded angrily. He can't just do that, she thought, annoyed.

"You look upset," Gendry told her honestly. "I'm not...leaving. I mean, I know we don't exactly know each other..."

"Can you just stop?" Arya snapped. "I don't care. Go back to bed." Or stay, she thought, please stay. You're distracting me...

There was a silence for a second, where Arya found herself glaring up at him. He was taller than her, like everyone else.

"Do you want me to get Jon?" Gendry finally asked quietly.

She shook her head slowly. "No, don't bother," she replied calmly.

Her brother's roommate laughed. "One minute you're all catty and next you're calm."

"So?"

This only seemed to make him laugh harder and Arya glared at him. He stopped laughing, yet he was still smiling that annoying grin.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, moving closer to her on the couch. She did her best to yet again ignore that he had no top on and it was rather distracting and...

Arya ignored her thoughts. "Tell me about Ygritte," she said suddenly.

"Ygritte?" Gendry laughed. "She's very…blunt. You'd get along with her, I think. I mean, you seem all sullen, but you've got that…blunt way about you too."

She didn't know if that was a compliment or not, so she ignored it. "Is she pretty?" Arya asked. If she is, then I'm not like her at all. Sansa's the pretty one, everyone's the pretty one...not me.

"I suppose," he admitted, "not my type, though."

Arya rolled her eyes. The amount of men who had said that and then looked suggestively at a random girl was countless. Yet Gendry didn't seem to be that type of man and instead he looked almost thoughtful.

They sat in silence for awhile, yet it wasn't awkward. "Do you miss your father?" Gendry finally asked quietly. "You don't have to answer."

Arya pretended to think for a moment, though she already knew the answer. "Yeah," she told him, "it doesn't really get any better, like people say. You just kinda…slowly grow almost immune to it, I guess. Well, at least that's what everyone else did. I seem to just be some stupid vulnerable person."

He was quiet for a moment. "It's not stupid...everyone gets upset. When my dad died, I was really upset. I didn't speak to anyone for days…it was worse that...well, my mum...she didn't tell me exactly who my dad was until he died."

"So you didn't know who your dad was your whole life...?"

"No…my mum often spoke of him harshly, saying he was a vicious drunk. When he died, she told me...I didn't really know what to think."

"I'm sorry," Arya said honestly.

"Don't be. I got over him dying…it's like you said, really. It never gets better, you just slowly…realise that they wouldn't want to see you upset," Gendry replied, sighing slightly. "Anyway, I don't think you should be up this late."

"I'm not a little girl!" she snapped, standing up instantly and he laughed.

"You look like one," Gendry commented offhandedly, before quickly standing up to avoid her hitting him. It happened so quickly, that she didn't see it. Suddenly they were chasing each other around the couch, Arya threatening to hit him, Gendry simply laughing.

Am I happy? she thought bizarrely.

A/N: Right…I'm really sorry if any of the characters seem really…not like themselves. I know that Arya isn't exactly…herself, but people change when they go through things like that. And besides, she's still the stubborn, feisty girl we all know and love!

Forgive me for any mistakes, or errors, and feel free to correct me.

I hope you all enjoyed it and see you next time.

-Zamire