So, the writers broke all our hearts in 8x04, but I hope that isn't the end of Arya and Gendry's interactions. It would make Gendry's return to the series completely pointless. But I also don't think they are going to have a happy ending either so that was the thought that helped inspire this little fic.
Arya Stark glared through her eyelashes up at a smirking of Cersei Lannister. The Queen's icy green eyes stared down at her like a snake eyeing a mouse before it consumed it in one bite.
"I always did wander what became of the little Stark brat," her words were poised and said through tight white teeth. She'd not heard the Queen's voice for a long time; it took her back to her nine-year-old self, a little girl hiding from the Lannister guards. Her tone was the same as when she'd stated 'you have another wolf.' Simple…soft…calculating…but Arya would not hide, not this time.
Arya stared back from her position on the floor ignoring the blood dripping into her sight from the wound in her hairline and she was sure at least three ribs were cracked. The Mountain held her face upwards, a fistful of her hair in his tight grip, pulling hard so that her scalp ached.
The Throne room held a chill despite the warm breeze that had returned to King's Landing along with the stench of sweat, fish and shit. She could hear the roar of the last of the Targaryen Queen's dragons from outside the Keep, even the soldiers gave a nervous tremor but Cersei Lannister barely lifted an eyebrow at the sound.
Jon, she thought. She knew he'd be matching South for his new love. The Hound and her had decided today would provide the perfect distraction and cover for their dual assassination attempt. It had indeed been the perfect distraction; Arya had stolen the face of a serving girl whilst the Hound cloaked himself well as they snuck into the Keep. The perfect plan and the perfect distraction; only to have been throttled by the Hound's death.
"A Faceless man," said Euron Greyjoy, making his way over to Arya. His grin was joyfully sadistic, "Or woman I should say. Well, well! I know of the House of Black and White but had never actually met one before. Can't say I'm particularly impressed!"
He turned to look up at the Queen who was still sitting upon the Iron Throne, calm now that her would-be assassin was captured. Her smirk widened a little as her gaze moved over to her ally.
"Maybe they took pity on her," Euron turning back to Arya and grinned down at her, "Maybe she has a nice cunt so they let her play with them for a little while. That what happened little girl?"
"Fuck off!" Arya snarled at him, spitting at his boots. He reacted instantly with a sharp laugh and a hard belt across her face and her face snapped to the side as a fresh wave of pain exploded through her cheek and neck.
"I think the little Stark bitch needs to be taught a lesson Your Grace," Euron dramatically whispered loudly to the Queen and took a threatening step towards Arya.
A sudden wave of emotions washed over her. She wouldn't be able to stop him, realizing how very defenseless in this moment. It suddenly hit her hard like an arrow to the chest.
Fear, blinding hot and gut retching fear. Not for her, for it. The useless pain in the arse problem that she had discovered only a fortnight ago.
It had all started small at first. Her beasts becoming tender and a little larger and her body feeling suddenly tired at any point of the day. And then she'd experienced at any hour of the day falling off the saddle of her horse as she retched the contents of her stomach out, certain smells suddenly turning her stomach in a way that made her ashamed to be a woman, whilst she suddenly craved minted pork with lemon sauce in the early hours in the morning, and oysters during the night. Her clothing was now hiding much of her body's changes but Arya had noticed it when her belly began to swell out, if only a little, and she had cursed loudly and silently not knowing how to kill it without ending her own life at first.
She reasoned with herself that once her list was done, once Cersei was dead, she'd fall on her Needle. End it. She'd rather die then have such a life. It had been such a nuisance, a worry blossoming inside her that it would make her fail in her mission. Make her weak again.
But now, being held down by the massive bulk that was The Mountain and Euron Greyjoy grinning down at her, the sudden fear for the little bundle growing inside her belly nearly overpowered her, keeping her still and silent. They could hurt her, beat her, rape her…she didn't care, as they as they stayed away from her belly, she didn't care what they did to her…
Cersei held up her hand to silence Greyjoy, pulling Arya from her thoughts, "The Targaryen bitch tried it seems. Send an old dog and a little girl to do her dirty work whilst she distracted me with her dragon and ships outside. I'm almost impressed, I would never have suspected little Arya Stark to come for my head."
"My father's ghost sent me," the words sounded choked in Arya's throat as it lay exposed, no matter how she pushed and pulled, the Mountain had a firm grip on her, "And I will kill you, you just won't know when."
But Cersei's smirked widened as she rose from the Iron Throne, her skirts swirling as she slowly descended the stairs, "You tried once, and we killed you're companion. Tell me child, I have to only give the order and Ser Gregor will crush you; being such a little thing."
But Arya grinned back at her, her teeth bared and her smile manic, "What do we say to the God of Death? Not Today."
Cersei stopped then and sized up her attempted murderess. Arya could almost see the scheming clogs turned in her blonde head as she observed the young woman before her, bleeding and bruised on her throne room floor.
The Hound's body lay several feet behind them, dozens of Lannister soldiers surrounding him. He had formed a distraction so that Arya could approach the Queen silent as a shadow. But the plan had all fallen to pieces when the Mountain had shed his sword through his younger sibling's stomach, filling the man's lung's with blood as it poured from the wound and from his mouth.
She'd not expected it, it was a moment of stupidity on her part; she'd been distracted for that split second, long enough for a Lannister guard to seize her arm. She'd stuck him with the pointy end of course, but it had altered every other person in the room to her presence, including the Queen and the Mountain, who advanced on her. She'd twisted and turned away from him, dodging his blows, striking in speed, not allowing the vulnerable parts of herself to be exposed until he'd slapped her so hard across her face that no amount of training could restore her blurred vision for that second of blinding pain and she'd felt her ribs crack as he'd then hit her side so hard it sent her flying.
"I think I'll dangle you from the Red Keep wall," Cersei observed her cooly, "Let the Dragon whore and you're scum of a family see what the Crown does to its enemies. That pretty little face crushed and bloody. You certainly do not have you're sister's beauty, but you have Lyanna Stark's. Did you're father ever tell you about his strong wild sister? The beautiful She-Wolf as my late husband used to call her; you'd have liked her, one wild bitch to another. But you're more savage then she ever was, beast-like."
"Lift her," she commanded the Mountain suddenly who seized Arya to her feet as she spat and struggled and Cersei's eyes narrowed as her eyes moved from Arya's gaze to her middle.
"Hold her still," she commanded stepping forward as the Mountain crushed her and Arya watched in horror as Cersei nodded to a nearby guard who approached them and the Queen seized a dagger from his belt and turned to Arya.
No! Not today!
There was only a momentary pause of stunned silence as the Mad Queen caught the ties of her leather jerkin and ripped it open, her green eyes staring at her stomach hungrily, and then Arya's entire body was flooded with sudden panic as her tunic was pulled from her trousers.
She suddenly came to life, kicking and thrashing out at the Queen, twisting her body away from her, she screamed in fury, lashing out any way she could. The Mountain suddenly began to squeeze her windpipe and Arya began to see white dots in her vision. She flinched when Cersei's cold hands finally touched the bare skin of her belly feeling and pressing against the small hard swelling that was protruding between her hipbones. It was small yes, but to a woman who had bore children before, she'd know what it meant.
The fear suddenly made Arya immobile as the two enemies locked eyes, Stark grey with Lannister green. She could feel Cersei's cold hands slowly leave her body and a wicked smile stretched across her mouth, but she stared the woman down, determined not to let that fear show itself.
"I have birthed three healthy children, became pregnant with many others, you think I didn't see how you protected you're belly little wolf? I watched you fight. How long little wolf? Two? Or maybe three moons now?"
Arya remained silent, staring the Queen down, showing no fear, no emotion.
"You're brother," she continued, "Jon Snow, is standing outside King's Landing gates with a horde of Northerners, ready to assist the Dragon whore in taking my throne. I'll give him a choice, lay down his arms otherwise Ser Gregor will kill you're child whilst it still grows in you're belly and then remove you're head from you're shoulders."
But Arya grinned at her, her teeth bloody and her face streaked in red, and she spat at the woman, "Jon knows what needs to be done. You're wasting you're time Lannister."
Not many things unnerved Arya these days but the way that Cersei seized her with a surprising amount of strength and hate, her smile widening and revealing her pleasure at having another Stark girl back in her clutches to torment left an icy cold shiver down Arya's spine.
"We'll see little wolf."
000
Jon Snow watched as Cersei Lannister appeared, high on the fortress walls of King's Landing, her usual pose present. He was reminded of a similar scene described to him by Tyrion when Cersei had executed Missandei and the uneasiness in Jon's chest rose.
He squinted in the bright sunlight it's heat making the sweat roll down into his temples and hair, as he watched the group on the wall. This 'Queen' obviously had a point to be made, otherwise she wouldn't have bothered to appear and send word to him.
'I have you a small present Stark bastard. Come and get them if you please.'
Starks tend die when they head South.
He chose to ignore the whispers he'd heard all his life.
"She looks happy," said a voice from behind him. He glanced over and watched the new Lord of Storms End ride up alongside him. He too stared up at the woman who he'd only glimpsed on certain occasions through his twenty-five-years whilst living and working in King's Landing. His war hammer was secured to his back and his new armour was light but strong, a strong stag displayed against the front of his breastplate. Fleshly-made, Jon guessed he'd probably forged it himself knowing his friend's talents. Even after being named a Lord he couldn't seem to give up his old habits.
"Aye," Jon turned his gaze up to the smirking woman as she cooly gazed down at them, "It's what makes me worried."
"I have a proposition for you Jon Snow!" she called out and turned her head slightly to nod at the Mountain who surged forward carrying a struggling bundle of clothes, the person's face covered by a hood. The uneasiness rose in Jon's throat, the figure was small, he could see that from here and he suddenly wanted to pray to every God this didn't end how he thought it was going to.
"And what is that?" Jon called back. They watched as the Queen nodded to the Mountain who seized the hood and pulled it clean off and Jon heard Gendry suck in a harsh breath as his own heart spattered sharply.
It was Arya.
Bloodied and she looked a little twisted, like she was crouching over on herself. Her hair was mattered and her face bruised and bloody. Her hands must have been tied behind her back keeping her from struggling too much.
"Jon-" Gendry's voice was choked as he stared up at the group, "How-"
"She was heading South," he said his grey eyes skywards and his voice broke a little, "Sansa told me only after Arya had left. I didn't think she'd have been captured. I thought maybe she'd not reached Cersei yet because there was no news of either her nor The Hound."
Jon dismounted his horse, never taking his eyes off his littlest sister, and took a few steps tentative steps forward, raising his hands carefully, and called up to the Lannister Queen, "Alright! You have my attention."
"It is very simply Jon Snow," she called down to him, "Turn you're armies around. Swear you're allegiance to me, the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and I'll let you're sister and her bastard live. Refuse and I'll throw her from this wall myself."
Jon Snow swallowed hard. He barely heard Gendry dismount behind him and approach him, "What did she mean by 'you're sister and her bastard?'"
Jon ignored Gendry's question and turned to his friend, his gaze was sharp and clear but his lips were pressed into a straight line, "I can't renounce Dany. But I know Cersei isn't bluffing."
Jon watched as the young Baratheon stared upwards for a few quiet moments, his brow frown and he was muttered something under his breath slowly. And suddenly he turned sharply to Jon, his face paling.
"Turn me over."
"What-?"
"Give her her husband's bastard instead in exchange for you're sister. I'm better of a bargaining tool, and she isn't going to want me alive, I have a right to claim that throne of hers'. I have King's blood, she doesn't."
"Gendry no-"
"She'll kill her Jon!"
There was a panicked edge in his voice and the way he said his sister's name, it made Jon frown suddenly as he returned his friend's gaze. He looked terrified but determined. Strong.
Jon grasped his friend's shoulder, staring hard at him, "You won't walk away from this if I do this Gendry."
"Good," he said softly keeping his gaze upwards, "Better me then Arya."
Jon pulled back a little before turning his gaze skywards again. He could see Arya from where he stood staring down at them, both of them. Her eyes were wide, her expression a mixture of fierceness and hardness, but also something else; Jon had only ever seen it once before on Arya face as she watched as Bran had received his first bow, handed to him by Ned Stark; longing. Jon's frown deepened and he suddenly understood. Nobody had been able to find Arya the night before the battle, nor Gendry, for that matter. And the night Gendry became a Lord, Arya again was nowhere to be found and soon after Gendry too had very quickly disappeared from the celebrations. He'd brushed off the way their eyes seemed to linger on each other when the other was in the room, the way her sister would tilt her head like she was calculating the best way to pounce on prey when she watched him, or how Gendry would smirk at her when their eyes met occasionally.
He should have known better. Arya had always done as she pleased. He remembered Cersei's note, 'I have you a small present Stark bastard. Come and get them if you please.' Not her, but them.
"She's with child," he said sharply turning to Gendry, "Cersei's talking about you're bastard."
"I love her," he said it easily, like he was saying the skies were blue, the hills were green, as if Jon should have known it already. His gaze was still fixed on Arya as she watched them.
"You bedded her without my permission," Jon said sharply and despite the situation the anger and betray surged through his chest as he fought the urge to pull Longclaw onto him.
Gendry then lowered his gaze to Jon's and boldly replied, "She bedded me without you're permission."
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