Illumination
Sometimes when Arya dreamt the world slipped away and reality and the illusions of her subconsciousness became indistinguishable. Tonight was one of those times and Arya didn't even know that she was asleep and dreaming. Yet this night the dream wasn't about wolves…
In the streets of Braavos:
Arya crept up on him like a silken shadow. This lithe, muscular, onyx haired stranger. He looked young; only about 5 years or so older than her. But that didn't matter. It didn't matter at all. If he was the man the faceless men were interested in, he was dead already: but first she had to find out if he was the one they wanted. So she followed him.
Then it happened; another stranger slammed into her rushing to get past. He was tall and heavy from the rolls on his immense stomach but Arya never saw his face. Arya stumbled, although she never stumbled. She fell although she never fell. Fear cuts deeper than swords and I am a faceless man. But a true faceless man would never fall; never let their target catch a glimpse of them. I deserve to die she thought. The words tasted metal-hot and hateful as her own blood as Arya swallowed them down. Then her target- the tanned, black haired boy- yanked her up by the scruff of leather around her neck and threw her against the wall. The pain was astonishing.. yet that didn't matter. She would have got her needle out and gutted him by now if his strength had not been double her own.
Blinding crystalline sunlight cut its way into the darkness of the alleyway as he held her tight against the wall. The razors of light illuminated their faces. Arya's eyes were huge and white with terror explicit. The fading memory of Yoren shoving her against the wall as he chopped off her hair came to her in that instant. It was a queer sense of symmetry. And a bittersweet blood song of things she didn't want to remember came ringing through her head.
"Gendry!" she gasped. His blue eyes were acid bright with shock as he lowered her down. "Arya, what the hell are you doing here?" he shouted at her. Arya frowned at him. That name didn't belong to her anymore. Arya Stark had ceased to exist the moment she vowed to become a faceless man. But then Gendry corrected himself. "I'm sorry m'lady" he smiled at her while running a hand through his already messed up hair. That just made her even more infuriated. She was not a lady and never would be again. Why did he always make her so angry? Arya pushed him backwards, hard in the core of his chest. "I'm not a lady you stupid bull. And I almost let you kill me!" The words were like venom infused with honey. "You were the one who tried to kill me" he accused then mockingly said: "the lady assassin." He shoved her gently back. Despite herself, despite everything Arya grinned. He pushed me back, like when were at Acorn Hall together she thought.
Then, as the ruby-rich blood swirled in her mouth Arya jumped, throwing her arms around Gendry's neck as he wrapped his around her waist to catch her. She heard his breath catch in surprise, but then he laughed and for once Arya laughed with him. The hug was fierce and swift and his body was hard and smelled like coal and fire. But it couldn't last so Arya slid down before confusion overwhelmed her. Gendry wasn't part of her pack anymore, she reminded herself. He meant to leave me too she remembered. And the potency of those words was all that could ever matter.