The moon was high in the sky and Arya tossed and turned under her thin, woolen cloak that Gendry had given her. Arya's nightmares were haunting her again and there was nothing Gendry could do except watch and hold her small, delicate hand in his calloused one. Quietly, she mumbled something. She did not know this but Gendry would always be awake while she was having her nightmares. The fire blazed beside them and Gendry was warm enough without his cloak. Something inside him made him feel that he must protect her against all.
Once Arya's terrifying dreams had subsided, Gendry tried to take away his hand from hers, but her grip was relentless and brooked no argument. Instead, Gendry settled beside her on the leaves of the forest floor, his hand still in hers. As he laid there he felt Arya's small body curl closer towards him. His whole body stiffened as she did so but he soon relaxed and placed an arm over her, careful as not to wake her. She needed her sleep, fierce, little Arya who looked so young snuggled against him. No one touches her, Gendry thought. No one touches my She-Wolf.
The next morning, Gendry woke to find Arya gone. He sprang upright and called her name so loudly that the whole of Westeros could here. He heard a small voice say "Over here!".He walked towards the sound and could hear some sort of stream or river. As he looked past an old oak tree he could see Arya wading knee-deep in the water with a large stick, stabbing furiously at the ground under the water. A snarl escaped her lips. "Arya, what the hell are you doing?" he asked. "What does it look like? I'm fishing!" She snarled again as the fish escaped her. "We don't need fish!" he answered. "So!" she countered. Gendry continued watching her struggle a minute until he finally asked "Have you even sharpened the end?" Arya looked from the end of her stick to Gendry."No!" she replied and looked at him as if he were insane. Gendry just laughed and Arya put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Pass the stick, Arya. I'll do it." she complied with a grown.
That evening they ate crisp trout. Gendry was right they didn't need it, but it tasted good all the same and made a change from stale bread. After having a nibble of cheese, Arya laid down, facing away from Gendry. He yawned and laid down next to her. The stars werebright and Gendry tried to Figure out the constellations. Aegons dragon was the most prominent. All of a sudden a little voice said his name. He rolled over to see Arya staring at him. She was frowning like she did when she was trying to concentrate. Her grey eyes were solemn and lonely, but pretty too. No, she was pretty. All of her. She had grown much since they had left Kings Landing anc looked more womanly. "What is it?" he asked her. "Thank you." she mumbled. Gendry was confused. "For What?" she would not meet his gaze. "For helping me, for protecting me, for keeping me safe, for keeping me from making stupid decisions, for being here with me. If you weren't I wouldn't of been able to cope. I lov-" she stopped abruptly. Where was all this coming from? Gendry thought. Arya rolled back over as a sudden blush crept up her neck. What had she tried to say? That she loved me? She couldn't of, could she? Gendry crept over to her small, curled-up body and placed an arm over her. "Well, you helped me, protected me, kept me safe, and any stupid decision you made, I could of made one a hundred times worse. So, thank you Arya Stark of Winterfell." Slowly she rolled over and looked Gendry right in the eye. Their gazes lingered together for a while before Gendry lent down till his face was just inches from Arya's and he placed a soft, tender kiss upon her lips. She said nothing but smiled at him, which through all her emotions showed.
That night they settled down together, The Bull and his She-Wolf, under the watchful eye of Aegons Dragon and for once in a long while Arya Stark had no nightmares.