Summary: Smutty Oneshot. Arya and Gendry have a fight, and Arya knows just how to fix it.
This is my first fanfic for GoT/ASOIAF, so I hope I did ok, especially with the characters. I hope I did a good job keeping them in character. This is also the first story I've written in a while, so I hope I'm not too rusty!
I hope you enjoy it!
…
M'lady
Arya dashed down the staircase, such as a child would when they woke up on the morning of their nameday when they knew they had a present waiting for them. She ran into the dining hall where her sister and brother were eating their morning meal. Bran, the Lord of Winterfell, was sitting at the head of the table with his new wife, Bethany of House Blackwood, on one side of him and with Sansa sitting beside Bethany. Arya paid no mind to them as she scurried through the room, but a gasp from Sansa stopped her in her tracks. She expected this but had no qualms about disregarding her sister and continuing on her way.
"Will you not be dining with us this morn, Sister?" Bran inquired after her before she made it to the door.
She stopped and sighed. She didn't care about ignoring Sansa, but she would feel bad if she ignored Bran.
Swiftly, she turned on her heels, "Good morning everyone. No, Bran I will not be dining with you this morning, I have somewhere to be," She said, smiling sweetly and hoping that this was the end of the conversation.
"Arya, what are you wearing?" A horrified Sansa gasped, looking at the breeches, tunic, and cloak her younger sister had chosen to wear this morning. Arya rolled her eyes. She noticed a very similar expression of disgust on her sister-in-law's face. Sansa has had too much of an impression on Bethany in Arya's opinion.
Bran just laughed at the looks on the girls' faces.
Sansa huffed. "I thought that we had agreed that you would put in more effort to look more lady-like. Soon you will be married and your Lord husband will not allow you to go running around in something like that all day!"
"Leave her alone, Sansa. She is not harming anybody," Bran said. In truth, he was always amused by Arya's boyish behavior. "Arya, come eat with us."
"As I said, I have some place to be…" she said, motioning to the door.
"You have to eat, Arya. Come sit with me and Bethany," Sansa said.
"So I listen to your stupid giggling? No thank you," Arya gagged before she turned around and tore out of the room before anyone could stop her again.
She made her way through the rest of the castle and shivered when she walked out into the cold, winter air. Over the past few months there had been signs that winter was coming to an end. The days were slightly warmer and snow was beginning to melt here and there. However, they still had a ways to go before the long winter was finally gone. She ran through the town until she came to her destination; Gendry's blacksmith shop.
She walked in and was met with a surprise. "Rickon, what are you doing here?"
Both men turned to look at her. "Just a moment, please, Arya," Rickon said. He turned back to Gendry, "This is a good match, Gendry, and you would be wise to take the opportunity. My brother would like you to know that he approves of the marriage, should you accept." At the words, Arya paled. It couldn't be.
"Thank you, M'lord," Gendry says, bowing to Rickon.
Rickon turned to leave, stopping to talk to Arya. "Come, Arya, I will escort back to the castle," he grabbed her arm gently.
"No, I'm here to see Gendry," she said defiantly.
"Arya, I really think you should come back with me," he pushed. But she glared at him and he knew it was time for him to stop arguing. He nodded and walked out of the shop.
"He doesn't approve of my friendship with you," Arya stated, taking her cloak off as the heat of the shop began to affect her.
"He just doesn't want you to get hurt," Gendry said.
After the war, Gendry had come to Winterfell. He had helped rebuild the town and, afterwards, Bran had asked him to replace the late Mikken as the blacksmith of Winterfell. He would never tell anyone that the true reason he had come to the North was because of Arya, but everyone suspected that that was the reason. Arya had been thrilled when he came to her home town and she often visited him in his shop, making it difficult for him to get work done sometimes. Sansa frowned upon their friendship, thinking it not proper. Bran and Rickon did not care that they were friends, however they both worried about her getting hurt. They knew that Arya and Gendry could never be together. Even Bran, as much as he didn't care about whether or not it was "proper", could not allow them to be married. As Lord of Winterfell, he could not grant them permission to marry out of their station; only the King could do that and Kings didn't squander their time on such matters. Gendry loved Arya, but he wasn't stupid, contrary to her belief.
"Why would I get hurt? And what were you two talking about? What marriage offer?"
Gendry sighed. "The baker has asked me to take his daughter's hand in marriage." Arya said nothing. She just looked at her feet, refusing to meet his eyes. "Is Arya Stark actually speechless?" He joked, trying to lighten the mood.
But she had no witty retort. Instead, without raising her eyes, she asked, "what are you going to say?"
"To be honest, I'm thinking about accepting his offer,"
Arya's eyes shot up at him before he was finished talking. He wasn't surprised in the least to see anger bubbling in her grey, stormy eyes.
"Why?" She spat out, her reaction suggesting that he had just told her he was going north of the wall.
Gendry shrugged. "I'm almost 25 and I'm unmarried," he started.
"So? I'm 20 and I'm not married. Sansa is almost 23 and unmarried," she pointed out.
"Sansa has been married before and Bran is still seeking an appropriate new husband for her. The only reason you are not yet married is because your brother loves you and does not want to force you into a marriage you do not want."
"Is that the only reason you want to marry her? Because you think you're getting too old," she said like it was a stupid idea.
Gendry sighed. "No, that's not the only reason. She's kind and generous…and she is quite pretty."
She scoffed. "Pretty? A frail little girl with mousy brown hair is not what I would consider pretty, but if that's the type of thing you like…have you noticed how big her nose is? It hardly fits her face. Not to mention how incredibly daft she is. She's so stupid and she," Arya ranted.
Gendry interrupted her. "Enough," he snapped. He knew her well enough to know that her snide remarks about the poor girl were just her way of covering the hurt she felt. And he felt terrible about causing her such pain, but he was tired of hearing her mean comments. Her tendency to be callous towards people she did not like was one of her view qualities that he did not like all too much.
"It's not just that I think she's pretty," he continued. "I've never had a family. If I marry her and we have children, I'll have my own family. You know how much I want a family."
Arya looked at him, letting the pain of his words shine through her eyes "But we've been through so much together and we've become so close and…well…aren't I your family now?"
He sighed and looked at her with a pained expression. He shook his head, "Years ago I told you that you wouldn't be my family; you'd be m'lady. That hasn't changed." He knew he had pushed her too close to the edge. It had been a long time since he called her m'lady.
Usually, he could read every one of her emotions. Whereas most people saw her as a mystery, he always knew what she was feeling and what she was thinking, but not this time. Looking into her eyes, he didn't know if she would start crying or start throwing things at him.
She stared at him for several moments and the longer she stared, the more uneasy he felt. But finally, he thought he saw what looked like a tear forming at the inner corner of her eye. But as quickly as it came, she blinked it away. She stared at him, stoned face, for another moment and then, in a flash, she was gone. Gendry sighed, hoping that this wasn't a mistake.
…
Sleep alluded Arya that night. She didn't know what she was feeling. Part of her, the mad and vindictive part, wanted to forget about him and forget about the feelings she had for him. If all she was to him was his "lady", then that is all she would be to him. But another part of her, the weaker part, wanted to run into his arms and beg him not to marry that other girl.
It wasn't like her to do something so emotional and "weak", as she considered it. But she knew that it was her only way of keeping their relationship, whatever their relationship was, afloat. So she rose from bed and didn't bother dressing. Instead she grabbed her fur-trimmed robe and tied it over her night dress.
She grabbed the candle from her bedside table and as quietly as she could, snuck through the castle, having to assure several guards along the way that nothing was amiss. Most of them even tried to follow her and she had to shoo them away.
She shivered as she walked out into the bitter cold. It wasn't until her feet stepped into the icy slush of melting snow that was piled on the ground that she realized she had forgotten shoes. However, she wasn't going to waste time and go back to get them. Her feet would probably be blue by the time she made it to her destination. So, she hurriedly trudged through the ice and sludge until she made it to the smithy, which thankfully, was not too far away.
When she arrived, she entered the shop, which had nothing blocking its entrance, and made a bee line towards the back to the door that led into his living quarters. She tried the door, but he had locked it. She huffed, and looked around his shop for something that could be used to pick the lock. She grew frustrated looking for something, anything that could work. But there was nothing, not even a knife. The more frustrated she grew, the less concerned about being quiet she became. She started trying to open draws, cabinets, and chests. Most of them were locked as well and the ones that were unlocked contained nothing of use.
That stupid bull has to make everything difficult, doesn't he?
Suddenly, the door to Gendry's room flung open and he jumped out, holding a sword and prepared to strike the intruder. Arya, surprised, fell to the ground. She thought her heart had leaped out of her chest at the fright.
"Gods, Gendry! What's wrong with you, you stupid bull!"
"What's wrong with me?" He asked incredulously. "You're the one who broke into my shop!" He retorted, but Arya had already pushed past him and into the room.
She surveyed the room. As often as she came to the smithy, she had never been in the back room before. Gendry had never allowed her, saying it was "improper". In the small room, there was a small bed, hardly large enough for Gendry himself, pushed against the furthest wall, and she scrunched her nose. There was a small table by its side, upon which rested a candle and a book. The corners of her mouth upturned slightly. For the past year, she had been teaching him how to read and she thought it endearing how serious he was about it. There was a trunk at the foot of the bed and another one next to her by the door. Then she noticed that there was a small cauldron over a fire pit, obviously where he made his meals. She noticed another door; one which she assumed led to a bathing room.
"Why are you here?" Gendry asked her coldly, interrupting her examination of his room.
She slowly turned her head to look at him, and only now noticed that he was now next to her. She noticed he was tense and his eyes, which were usually bluer than the sea, were dark and stormy with anger. She knew she had really upset him earlier, just as he had upset her.
She shrugged. "I wanted to talk."
"If you're here to insult my soon-to-be betrothed, then you can just leave, m'lady," Gendry sneered at her, and mockingly bowed for emphasis.
Her nostrils flared at the nickname. "So I'm still your lady, am I?"
"Aye, m'lady," he replied and reveled in the anger that bubbled up when he used the nickname again.
"And will you do as your lady commands?" She asked.
He eyed her wearily, not knowing what she was playing at. But before he could give her an answer or ask another question, Arya was in his arms, her lips were on his, and her hands were around his neck.
He let her kiss him for a few moments, relishing the feelings of her, before pulling away. "Arya, we really shouldn't. It's not right."
"I asked you if you would do as your lady commands."
"Yes, but…"
"I command you to fuck me, Gendry," and with those words her lips were on his again and her tongue was brushing along his bottom lip, begging for entrance.
He wanted so much to grant it, but he couldn't bring himself to. He pulled away again and he heard her huff.
"We can't."
Her eyes bore into his, and he thought he saw a hint of hurt in her eyes. "Don't you want to?" Her voice was so small and weak, and he thought he had really hurt her feelings.
"Arya, it's not about what I want…"
"Do you want to?" She asked again, more harshly.
"Of course I do, Arya. I have fantasized about this for years. I want nothing more," he finally admitted.
"Then fuck me, Gendry."
Gendry felt his breeches tighten at her words. He didn't want to deny her any longer, but he had to ask, "Are you sure?"
"Do you think I would be here right now if I wasn't?" She studied his face, not missing the way he nervously bit his bottom lip or the way his eyes glistened with desire. She kissed him again, this time with the intent of wiping away any doubt that remained in him. It worked.
Within moments, his hands were groping her body, grasping for any part of her and his lips were attacking hers with more vigor than she thought he had in him. Whenever she imagined what it would be like to bed him, she always imagined him being gentle and tender. But right now he was anything but, and she liked it.
He reached between them and untied her robe. He pushed it off of her shoulders and let it fall to the ground, never taking his lips from hers. In turn, she tugged at the hem of his shirt and he reluctantly broke away from her to allow her to pull it over his head. He wasted no time putting his lips upon her once again. He started at her ear, nipping and sucking on her lobe. The moans that he withdrew from her encouraged him on and he began to push the fabric of her loose night dress from one of her shoulders. As his lips moved down her jaw, Arya pushed the other side her of her dress off of her other shoulder and let the material fall to the ground, leaving her bare before Gendry's eyes.
He pulled back to look at her, his breath caught in his throat. Nearly his entire body seemed frozen, except for his eyes that scanned her body from head to toe in awe. His manhood was not frozen either, as it grew even harder; harder than even he thought it could grow.
Arya began growing anxious under his stormy gaze. Does he not like what he sees,she thought. She began shifting on her feet, finally resting her weight on one side. "What's wrong?" She finally asked, using an impatient tone, as if she were annoyed at the situation. She beseeched the gods that her unease did not infiltrate the shield she had up.
Gendry's eyes darted up to me hers and saw the worry in her eyes and he immediately felt guilty.
"Nothing," he rushed. "You're beautiful…you're perfect," the last two words he whispered and he wasn't even sure she heard him. "I just can't believe I'm seeing you like this. I thought I never would."
She smirked at him and grabbed his hand, urging him to follow her. She led him to the small bed where she sat down, pulling him so that he was in front of her. She looked up at him with big eyes, before undoing the ties of his breeches.
She inhaled a deep breath when she pulled his manhood out of his breeches. She had never seen one before, but she had heard stories. She was nervous, and she hated that he made her nervous. But she had heard enough talk that she thought she knew what to do. She pushed his pants down his legs, so he could kick them off, and then she stroked him.
He smiled down at her and groaned as she pumped her fist. But when she made a move to take him into her mouth, he stopped her.
"Arya, you don't have to."
She looked up at him. "Of course I don't have to, stupid," she barked back in response.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head when she took his member into her hot, inviting mouth. He groaned as his hand flew to her head, weaving into her beautiful dark locks. It had been so long since a girl had touched him like this, and it had been so long since he had wanted Arya, that it was only a couple minutes before he felt he was close. He pushed her away and crawled over her as she lay down. He pressed kisses to her jaw and down her neck, earning a moan when he did so. He continued to nip and suck at her neck, so much that he was sure there would be a mark there in the morning. He had no doubt that she would kill him for it, but he couldn't find it in him to care right now.
"Gods, Gendry," she moaned as he sucked at the junction where her neck and shoulder met. He smirked against her soft skin as his kisses moved farther south. For the first time, he took one of her breasts into his mouth and her breath hitched. She whimpered when he rolled his tongue over her budding nipple and arched her back, pushing her breasts against his mouth. Meanwhile, he busied one of his hands with caressing her free breast. This time he squeezed her nipple, and smirked against her skin when she moaned. He began to grind his hips against hers, letting his hard cock rub against wetness. He continued with his caresses and suckling and grindings until he heard her call out his name. He stopped, and looked up at her questioningly.
"I'm ready," she said breathlessly. "I want you in me."
His brow furrowed. "Already?" He was not even close to being done with her yet.
"I've waited so long for this, Gendry. I don't want to wait any longer. I want to feel you, all of you."
Hesitantly, he reached in between them. He had never touched her down there before and he wasn't sure how she would react. He let his finger slide down her slit, and for the first time, felt how wet she really was for him. She must have wanted this as much as he did, and wanted it for as long as he had.
He positioned himself at her entrance and asked, "are you sure you're ready?" When she nodded her head in confirmation, he slowly pushed into her.
When he pushed past her barrier, she screwed her eyes shut as the pain hit her. He paused to let her adjust to him. Soon she relaxed and nodded, giving him leave to continue. He pushed further in, and then pulled out of her before slowly entering her a second time. The third time he did so, her hips met his as he pushed into her. Before long, the pain of her first time was just a memory and all that was left was pleasure. He pounded into her, her cries of pleasure only encouraging him to go faster. As he moved above her, he bent down and took her lips in a kiss. She gasped when he hit that special spot in her and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in her inviting mouth. Their tongues battled for dominance and when she felt her release coming, she bit hard onto his lip, drawing blood.
"Gods, Arya," he groaned as he felt his own release drawing near. One more hard thrust and she came for him, crying out his name. He finished just moments after and collapsed on top of her.
Finally, when he felt his strength returning, he pushed himself off of her, so as not to crush her. He rested his forehead against hers. Neither of them knew how long they stayed like this, but for a time, they simply stared into each other's eye. Finally Arya leaned up, kissing him. This time, though, it was soft and tender and full of love.
The bed was so small that they were hardly able to lie side by side, so Gendry changed their positions so that Arya was lying atop his chest. Neither said a word for a long while, instead they just enjoyed their embrace. Soon, Gendry's eyes began to droop and he thought he was finally going to fall asleep, Arya spoke.
"Gendry?" He grunted in response. "Are you still going to marry that girl?"
He let out a sigh; he couldn't ignore a question like that, which meant he had to leave sleep behind. "What do you think?" He muttered a little grumpily.
She furrowed her brow and wrinkled her nose. "You're not very nice when you're tired."
He chuckled. "As much as I have enjoyed tonight's events, my little wolf, I do have to wake up soon. I have too much work to do; I can't afford to sleep in and get behind on my commissions."
"Perhaps I should let you sleep then. Falling asleep while pounding metal over a forge doesn't sound terribly safe."
He chuckled once again. She enjoyed feeling the low rumble emanate from him as she rested against his chest. As he began to fall back into his dream land, she continued to think, all the while drawing patterns on his chest. Her mind was racing and, despite her earlier words, she seemed intent on keeping him awake with her.
"Do you really think she's pretty?"
He groaned again. He gave up on sleep for the time being and sat up a little to get a better look at her. "Yes, I suppose," she sat up, looking at him with her jaw agape. But before she could say anything, he continued. "But you are beautiful…stunning…breathtaking," he accentuated each adjective with a soft kiss to her lips.
"Since when are you the charming prince, you stupid bull?" She jeered, but the smirk she flashed him assured him that she was not serious.
"What do you want me to say, then?" He smiled back at her. But her smirk dropped and she looked at him seriously.
"Say that you love me."
His hands flew to cup her face, his fingers curling themselves in her hair. "I love you, Arya. More than you could ever know."
"And I love you, Gendry. Even if you are a stupid bull."
He smiled and pulled her down to him, kissing her hard and passionately. When the kiss ended, she looked at him, contemplating what she was gonna say, when finally, "Let's get married, Gendry."
Gendry felt like he had been hit in the stomach with a war hammer and then had his heart ripped out of his chest with the realization that neither him nor Arya had seemed to think about before. "I want nothing more, Arya. But we can't. It's not possible."
"It is."
"How, Arya? Tell me how. The only one who can grant you, a noblewoman, permission to marry me is…is the king."
"There is another way. It is not often done, and even more seldom heard of, for when it does happen no one speaks of it. But if I give up my title and any claims to the Stark holdings, then I am free to marry as I wish. We can marry and live here. Though, I think you'll have to get a bigger bed…"
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"Of course I'm serious."
"Well…what if we have a family? Where will we live then? There's hardly enough room here for the two of us as it is."
"Maybe we can build a house. Somewhere not far from here and you can still work here and come home at night. And while you're here working, I can hunt for us," she added.
He smiled. "That sounds beautiful."
She smiled brightly at him. "I'll tell Bran tomorrow."
"Gods, he will have my head," he realized, nervously running a hand through his hair.
Arya laughed. "No he won't; he isn't like that. He'd never hurt me like that. Besides. If he takes your head, he'll have to take mine too."
With those last words, she burrowed herself into his side, nestling her head into the crook of his neck. They both fell asleep, eager for the start of their new life together.
…
I hope you guys liked it!
There was another scene that I considered adding to the end of this. But I was just too tired, and I felt the story was long enough. Also, I was just ready to get this posted. Perhaps if you guys like the story, I'll add another chapter with the 'Alternate ending'.