"He's strong."
She remembered the forge in Harrenhal, so many years ago. In the time she and the bastard blacksmith had shared the road and first he had became her ally, than her friend. She had hated him for becoming a knight.
The armour's apprentice had snuck up on her and had rooted deep into her mind. Even when she was in Braavos, he sometimes had crossed her mind.
It seemd to be impossible to get rid of him.
Even the memory of him proofed to be strong.
When she returned - all anger and winter and death and north - he turned out to be even stronger.
He became her ally again, but she fighted him. Yet his stubborn-as-ever grip around the tiny little space he occupied inside of her never yieled.
Testing her sword against his hammer, she finally got used to the idea of befriend him again. After all, it was the lone wolf that dies in the winter.
And then he bowed, offered her his arm, his hammer, his loyalty and his life, if needed, at her service to regain the north, regain peace and gain revenge for the crimes done.
And in the last night, when there has been this strange, dark, overwhelming something grapping and shaking her, she kissed his lips.
And he held her in his strong arms. He kissed her back and kissed the darkness away for some time.
Arya Stark realized that she never wanted him to be her foe, her ally, her friend or her knight.
She wanted Gendry.
It was as simple as that.
(c)aditu90