Chapter One is based on the song Devil's Dance Floor by Flogging Molly, as well as partially from the scene in Titanic where Rose and Jack dance in the third class cabin.

"Hey, Cat, how come you never dance like the rest of the ladies? Even the Mormont gals are nice enough to dance with us."

Cat, as she had come to be known at the town's only inn and tavern, was the only one at the table who didn't react to the question that Anguy should've known better than to ask. The five other men seated at the round wooden table laid their hands of cards facedown and stared at him in disbelief. She, on the other hand, barely moved from Anguy's point of view, but the other men could see her smirk as she held her cards in her right hand, the left one firmly around a half full pint glass, fingers tapping on the glass as she answered.

"My sister's a lady, not me. 'Sides, I'm much better at cards or the knife game... Well, that and drinking sorry excuses for men like yerself under the table." She smiled sweetly, batting her eyes like she meant it, and reveling in the uproar of laughter from the other men surrounding her at the table.

Gendry had been told that this girl was different just that before he'd gotten to the Kneeling Man with Anguy that evening after work. Thoros had taken him under his wing, said a strapping young man like him needed to meet this Cat, but he wasn't convinced.

"I've moved around a lot, seen my fair share of beautiful ladies, all types," he'd said, his Southron accent most prominent on the vowels. "What's so special 'bout this one?"

"Ev'rything, boy, ev'rything. She's like no other woman round these parts. Ain't got no time for bein' a lady, even comes to the tavern in her brother's trousers and work shirts. You make no mistake though, second you see her you'll know she's a woman, if you know what I mean." Thoros gave him a wink before continuing. "Got herself an older sister, red hair, real tall and demure. Wouldn't even think of lookin' at the likes of us, but not Cat. She'll sit at the tavern and drink whiskey and pints of stout, hell, I saw her hustle Beric out of a week's wages playing poker before he even knew what'd happened. She's a spitfire, a real hellcat if I ever saw one."

In the short time he'd been in town, Gendry has learned to take what Thoros said with a grain of salt, but as he stood leaning against the bar, just close enough to be in earshot of Anguy and Cat's conversation, he realized that Thoros was right.

"I reckon that's not it. See, my boy Gendry here," he started, gesturing towards the bar behind him, "He's been talkin' up a right storm over at the bar all night. He's new in town, ya see, and he's thinkin' that a tomboy little thing like yerself ain't dancin' 'cuz ya don't know how."

"He say all that, did he?" She finally turned all of the way around, pulling her legs up and over the bench to face Anguy. Gendry could see what Thoros had been talking about. She was wearing a long sleeve button-down shirt with a tweed waistcoat over top, gray pants that were tighter than they should've been on a man, so he assumed they were taken from a younger brother. Her shirt sleeves were rolled up above her elbows and her pants were a bit as well, showing off a pair of practical leather lace-up shoes. All she needed was one of those caps and she'd look like she ought to be selling newspapers down on Main Street.

"You bet your boots he did."

"Well, Anguy, you tell him that if he has the balls to come over here himself and ask me for a dance, that I'd be more than happy to oblige," Cat explained, raising her voice a bit to challenge him. She leaned back against the edge of the table, sitting with both arms resting on it and crossed left leg on top of her right. "Until then, I've got five men here that I'm lookin' to beat at five card tonight."

Anguy shook his head and walked back to the bar, but when Gendry looked up again, he noticed that Cat hadn't turned around. She had a devilish smirk on her face and her eyes were set on him. He knew that he'd never met a woman like this before. When he first saw her, he wasn't sure what it was about her - her attitude towards Anguy, her brazen confidence, the way she tried to dress masculine but was failing miserably to mask the curve of her hips or the swell of her chest.

There was something about her though, and even though he couldn't exactly put his finger on it, it didn't stop him from turning around to the barkeep, ordering up two full pints of beer, and marching over to where she sat. The man to her left seemed to be the first to get the gist of the situation, placing his cards face down again and walking away, and within seconds the rest of the men were gone as well.

"If I heard correctly, miss, you said you'd only give me a dance if I asked you myself," Gendry said, sitting down next to her. "I've come to offer you a drink and some conversation, and if you'd be so gracious as to offer me a dance, I would be most pleased."

"Let's get one thing straight, mister," she started, pulling the mug over towards her. "My name is Cat. That's all. It's not 'miss,' or 'ma'am', and gods be good if you call me 'milady' you'll be gettin' acquainted with my left hook, you can take that guarantee to the bank, you can."

Gendry couldn't help but laugh at the way she presented herself. Most girls he met would never have talked to him that way, and he was finding it increasingly attractive that she wanted to be an equal to him... and he had a feeling she wasn't kidding about that left hook. "Hey now, don't gotta bite my head off. I've got no issue with callin' you Cat," he paused and held his hand out. "Gendry Waters."

She took his hand, and he wasn't surprised in the least by her firm handshake, despite that her hand was practically engulfed by his. The handshake acted as a bit of a truce and from then on, for almost on an hour, their conversation flowed freely. He'd arrived in town a few weeks earlier from the capital, coming up to the North to look for work in the booming logging industry. He told her about his mother who'd died when he was young, and she asked earnest questions about what she was like and how it was to grow up alone in the big city. It didn't feel at all judgmental or prying like it did when anyone else asked him of his past. On the other hand, her words about her large family came out easily. She told him excitedly about going out at daybreak on chilly mornings to hunt fox or pheasant with her father, about how good of a shot she was with an old rifle she'd named Nymeria, and about how it was a tragedy that women hadn't been given the vote yet.

She had just started to tell him about a suffrage march in White Harbor she'd went to when the band changed some instruments around and started the first few notes of a new song, much more upbeat than everything else they'd played.

"You still want that dance?" He nodded. "Well, now's your chance." He watched as she grabbed her mug and finished what was left, loudly slamming the empty glass on the table.

He finished his quickly, then stood to offer her his hand, bowing the way he assumed someone posh would bow to a lady to ask for her hand in a dance. He was a bit worried for a split second that his display would anger her, but she laughed loudly at him instead, rolling her eyes and taking his hand, letting him lead her out to the center of the floor, surrounded by the other dancing couples. A few of the men eyed him suspiciously, but he just ignored it, assuming it was because she didn't dance often.

Gendry positioned himself to lead, taking her right hand in his left, splaying his right on the small of her back, still leaving about a foot of room in between them.

"You sure you're up for this? It's a fast one," she said, tilting her head to the side. There was a look on her face which said she was teasing him, or maybe challenging him again.

"Oh, don't you fret, milady, I've got this one down," Gendry replied, pulling her body flush against his before she had a chance to get angry at him for breaking the 'milady' rule. He watched her eyes widen as she was pulled against him, and he only heard a small gasp from her before he started the dance.

He'd never danced with someone wearing trousers before, that was for sure, but he was thankful for it with a fast-paced dance like this, since he couldn't make an ass of himself by stepping on her skirts. The band was a typical Northern folk band, complete with a fiddle, banjo, and an upright bass, and the song they played was a twangy, jaunty tune that Gendry had never heard before, but it seemed like everyone else was doing a sort of fast waltz. He could he was going back and forth between leading correctly and probably looking like a fool, but Arya never stopped him. She was a great partner, following his lead despite some mix-ups, and she had a smile on her face that let him know he was doing something right. Gendry caught her looking at him more than a couple times, hoping that the look she was giving him meant what he thought it did, but even if it didn't, it'd be all worth it to say he'd been able to lead Cat around the dance floor of the Kneeling Man. He knew it'd be years before he'd forget the way she giggled each time he made a mistake, a noise that seemed entirely out of her personality.

XxXxX

It was just at the end of the song, the band had finished their final notes and the crowd at the tavern was clapping loudly for them. She was breathing hard, practically out of breath, but she couldn't help the smile that was spreading across her face, matched by the same one she saw on Gendry's face. It scared her a bit, if she was honest with herself, how much she liked how he looked at her while they danced, and especially the way he was looking at her now. It was then that she was brought out of the tavern's revelry and back to reality. There was a large hand on her shoulder, and when she spun around to give that person a piece of her mind she saw her family's chauffeur Hodor behind her.

"Miss Arya, you've got to leave. Your poor lady mother has got herself all a mess on account of you not showin' up for supper with the Baratheons tonight. Gods, please don't let me be the one to tell Mrs. Stark that her fragile youngest daughter has been out drinking with the likes of these ruffians..." he said, letting his voice trail off.

"Hodor! Now, don't tell me that you're gonna tattle on me to mother. I thought I knew you better," she replied, punching his arm even though she knew he probably couldn't feel it and then giving him a knowing smirk.

"Your secret is safe with me as always, Miss Arya. I managed to sneak one of your dresses out of the laundry so you won't have to climb up the trellis like last time. Car's out front, you can change on the way back."

"Oh, you're a lifesaver, Hodor, really you are." Arya turned her head around to see Gendry still standing in the same spot a few feet away on the dance floor, eyes wide and his jaw practically dropped to the floor, unable to believe what was happening. She realized then that he had no idea who she was. True, she'd been a might bit upset at Anguy's talk earlier, but she had to give it to this Gendry. He'd walked right up, two pints full, and asked for a drink and a dance. Arya was through and through a Stark, she wouldn't go back on her words, especially when everyone in the rotten place had heard them. But in the end, she knew she'd enjoyed her time with him. She saw that Mr. Hodor was almost to the door when she called out to him. "Say, Mr. Hodor, think you can give me a minute? There's something I gotta do first. I'll be right out, I swear."

"Of course, lass," he replied, and continued on outside.

Arya walked up to Gendry, stopping about two feet from him and rest her hand on his arm a moment to make sure she had his full attention.

"...hey, I've gotten run home. My mother'll pitch a fit if she finds out I've been here again. She near fainted the last time... but don't worry. I'll be back here next week," she said, then looked down at her shoes in a rare moment of shyness before looking up to meet his eyes. He'd relaxed just a bit. "You'll save a dance for me, won't you, Gendry?"

He said nothing, just nodded his head slowly.

"Good," she replied, then quickly went up on her tiptoes, kissing the corner of her mouth, only lingering for a second longer than she knew she should've. "See you 'round, then."

XxXxX

He watched her return down to flat feet, before turning and running out of the door to the car. He was still in shock from before and now she'd went and kissed him. His mind was racing a mile a minute trying to make heads and tails of it, when he heard Anguy's laugh behind him.

His so-called friend walked up to him, continuing to laugh and clapping him on the back. "Better close your mouth son, you're gonna catch flies."

"... S-Stark? That's Arya Stark? As in the mayor's daughter? And I just asked her to... and we just... oh gods, she just kissed... and you knew who she was?!"

"Course I knew! Everyone in this shit hole knows who she is, 'cept you that is."

"You're such an ass," he said, shaking his head and walking over to the table that Beric was seated at.

"Oh, calm down, lad," Beric said, passing him a drink. "No harm done."

"It was a riot though, weren't it, Beric?" Anguy said, joining them at the table. "I wish he coulda seen his own face."

"Yea, it's gonna be a real riot when the mayor runs me clear outta town."

"Nah, won't happen. Shit, Cat's in this joint round 'bout every week, just like she said. Old Hodor there, the Stark's driver, he's a good fellow. Loyal. He won't tell a soul. And besides, she'll be back. Lass like that one'll never admit it, but she fancies you alright, I can tell."

Gendry was still a little excited over his encounter with Cat that evening, though he was certain in the end he'd been with Arya, the real part of her. He was also very sure that next week he'd be waiting at the tavern with an extra pint of beer in-hand for a certain spitfire young lady to show up so he could ask for another dance.