Hi! I'm sorry it took a while for this chapter but I was going through some serious writers block. Just letting everyone know that I'm drawing from both the books and the show for this fic because it gives me more to work with. Thank you for all the reviews and follows and favourites, they really do mean the world to me. I hope you like this chapter too.


Time could not seem to make up its mind. On one hand Arya's stomach swelled more with every day that passed and the young Queen was losing her ability to deny what everyone could see so easily. However each moment she spent separate from Gendry stretched endlessly in front of her.

Arya couldn't believe that she needed another person as much as she needed Gendry but she also couldn't believe the desperation she felt because he was so far away. She could hardly recognise herself, a person who was so different to who she used to be. The baby growing inside her also seemed to miss their father making her sicker than she had ever been and moodier than usual.

Her new status as Queen meant that people had to be polite to her no matter what mood she was in, something that she blessed on good days and cursed on bad ones. During her childhood there were plenty of people who were willing to reproach her when she had done something wrong; her parents, her brothers, her sister and half the castle of Winterfell. Now no one mentioned when she swore or when she dressed like a warrior rather than a lady. It made her miss her family even more than she thought possible.

She had been forbidden from leaving the castle of Riverrun; the chances of her being hurt were too great for anyone to bear and as a result Arya was becoming stifled. Her room had lost all intrigue and she was not allowed anywhere without her guards. While Arya knew the protection was necessary for both herself and the baby she still felt she was more than capable of fighting of any attacker. Not one person agreed with her and the guards remained.

With so much time on her hands Arya found herself gravitating towards the Godswood. The home of her father's Gods had never called to her beyond what was considered her duty and she was no better with the Seven Gods of her mother. On the road to Harrenhal she had prayed in her own way, calling for the blood of her enemies and the people who had done her wrong.

The Weirwood tree at Riverrun was not as impressive as the one from Winterfell. Starks had always worshipped the Old Gods stubbornly refusing to convert to the Seven. As a result The Godswood of Winterfell was more beautiful than any other Godswood in the Seven Kingdoms. Still Arya found peace when she went there, she felt closer to her father in among his Gods.

Arya sat beneath the tree, thrilled with the feeling of isolation from the world. If she closed her eyes she could pretend that everything had just been a terrible dream. She could pretend that the King had never come to Winterfell and her father had never died. She could pretend that she was still an innocent child. In her mind she saw the way such a life would have played out.

It was bittersweet. Arya wanted to regain what she had lost but she couldn't give up the things that she had.

"Nothing is the same, father. I hope you know that there is no way we can keep going properly without you. Mother has suffered the greatest, of course. She loved you so much and I hope that someday I have the courage to love my husband the way she loves you. The war will end soon but I don't know which side will win. We've all lost so much that I find it difficult to think of anyone being a winner. Will you watch over them for me and try to protect them? You were always so strong…"

Talking to her late father had become a tradition though she made it a habit to always say similar things. It was also habitual that she would cry when she said them to him. She missed her father and her brothers. She hoped that she would never have to miss another soul for as long as she lived.

"Your father always knew what to say to you, when you were sad," Arya turned around to face her mother as she approached. "I could never understand how my two daughters could be so different and I treated you poorly for it. But don't ever think I loved you any less. Ned though, he could look after you and your brothers properly in a way I never could. It was only after I lost him that I realised I was foolish to need him so much." Lady Catelyn sat next to Arya and looked up at the massive tree.

Chocking back her sobs, Arya leant into her mother's side as the older woman wrapped an arm around her in an embrace. "Surely you don't mean that. It's impossible to go through life without needing someone and you loved father, I know so." Arya insisted passionately. It was another example of how much she had changed, how much life had changed her from a little girl into a young Queen. The young Arya Stark would never have admitted to needing anyone and now she was fighting to convince her mother of the importance of such trust.

"One day, my love, you will understand how I am able to say such bitter things. I pray to the Old Gods and the New that you will never share my pain." The two women were silent then as they finished their own prayers. Arya waited for her mother to help her up as her growing belly hindered her.

"Do you think we could go for a walk today? Outside the castle?" Arya knew she was asking in vain, that there was no way her mother would consent to her request but still a part of her hoped.

"Do you really think that's wise? As a Queen no one will tell you what to do but that does not mean you may do as you please. It means that you must use your own senses when it comes to deciding what is good for your Kingdom." Her mother often gave her lessons on how to be a Queen though Arya detested them. She wanted to be her own type of Queen but she also knew that there was so much about politics that she didn't understand.

"I think it will do me good which, in turn, will be beneficial to the baby. Besides I not want to be the type of Queen who hides away in an ivory tower while the rest of my people suffer. Our advantage is that Gendry will be a King of the people and they will love him for it. Besides if I go with my guard then I will be safe." Her mother did not look convinced but there was very little she could do to stop her youngest daughter, as had always been the case.

"Very well then, if this means so much to you then you should go but there are conditions. Your entire guard will follow you wherever you go and your path will be decided upon before you leave so that we are aware of your location should something go wrong." Then her mother dropped the strict tone and her eyes soften dramatically. "The only thing that matters is your safety and the safety of your child. No one would bear it if we lost you."

Arya could see it then, the reason for Catelyn's intense protection. Her mother had lived through the very same situation Arya was experiencing. It was just like with Robert's Rebellion, when her father had left her mother to go and fight with his friend. She had been pregnant too with Arya's brother, Robb. She knew what Arya was feeling and she was trying to protect her, in whatever way she could. It must have been hard for her, Arya realised, to see her daughter go through one of the worst times of her life.

"Thank you mother," she said earnestly and with a smile steadily spreading across her face. The thought of exploring the beautiful lands around the castle was enough to make Arya's day and even though there were conditions to her adventure she was still happy.

The two women walked back to the castle together talking of the war and what would take place when it was over. However there were people milling around, not all of whom could be trusted completely so the conversation remained with light topics.

Arya's steps were just a little bit faster due to her excitement and she looked much happier, something which did not go unnoticed. People smiled and waved at her and she responded regally, playing the part of Queen brilliantly. Catelyn smiled, happy to see life return to Arya where she had only been grim before.

Hours later, when all the arrangements had been made, Arya set out on horseback. Crowds of people gathered around the gates of the castle, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Cheers for the beautiful Wolf Queen of the south ran through the streets, louder than any other noise Arya could hear. Children followed her horse with adoration and Arya couldn't help but think that she could get used to being a Queen.

There had, of course been many moments when the thought of her future had made Arya tense up and quiver. Everyone expected a Queen to be ladylike and delicate and the complete opposite of who Arya was. She had tried desperately to convince everyone around her that it wasn't a good idea to put a crown on her head but in the end it was Gendry who convinced her that it wouldn't be too bad.

It was a dark night with no moon in the sky, perfectly matching Arya's bleak mood. Her room in her uncle's castle provided her with shelter from the eyes that constantly followed her every move like vultures. They seemed to think that she couldn't hear the whispers, the ones that said she would not be a suitable Queen and that the contract between the Starks and the Baratheons should be reneged.

Arya Stark had dealt with many terrible things during her short life but the situation she found herself in was nothing short of her worst nightmare. The horror was that her lack of manners and etiquette were going to stop her from getting what she wanted.

Not that getting married was what she wanted or being a Queen; that was Sansa, not her. The truth was Gendry was her best friend and he would be good to her, not making her give up her water dancing or the things she loved. Then there was the fact that if this marriage were to fall through Arya would most likely be forced into another one, one which she would like infinitely less.

Robb had spoken to her about it, saying that he understood what she was going through and she supposed that he did, in a way. Before the Late Lord Frey had died both he and Arya had been arranged to marry Freys but the eldest son of Lord Waldor had released them from the contract after his father's death with the words, "War does not make for good marriages." Her brother was the only one who felt relief though as Arya knew that a marriage would still be in her future.

"It's not fair," she said to herself. It really wasn't, not when she was as good a warrior as her brother. Arya had always known that the married life was not for her but now she had found a way to make her destiny bearable and it still wasn't going the way she wanted.

The whispers wouldn't have affected her so badly if she didn't know them to be true. Everyone was aware that she was probably the worst excuse of a lady in the whole of Westeros and that she would be a terrible Queen. She knew it too though it had never bothered her before she was told that she was going to marry Gendry.

There was another problem. Since the engagement had been announced Arya had seen very little of her friend. Stannis Baratheon had taken him back to Stannis' main camp and Gendry was constantly busy being taught how to be a proper King. She didn't know how he truly felt about being forced to marry her though he hadn't ended the engagement which, her mother assured her, was a good sign. Arya didn't want to disappoint him by being such a bad Queen that nobody took him seriously as a King.

That day had been particularly hard for the young princess. As she walked around the castle she happened to overhear some ladies talking in snobbish, uninteresting tones. On a normal day she would have kept on her journey, not willing to waste the time it took to listen in on them (which was something Bran was more prone to do). However she heard them mention Gendry and she thought it would be nice to report back to her betrothed if they said nice things (he was always worrying about what people thought of him).

"It doesn't matter that he's Robert's bastard though, does it? He's going to sit on the Iron Throne and he'll be a King and the Baratheon line will continue through him and that Stark girl. It really is a shame that she's going to be the Queen."

"I know, isn't it? The other day I saw her speaking with some of her brother's men and she was swearing even worse than they were. You would almost swear she had no breeding at all."

"Isn't she pathetic with her 'lessons' it's not as though she'll ever be a proper lady."

Arya backed away quickly and silently, surprised by how much their words had hurt. She didn't know who those girls were or why she was fleeing from them she just knew that she had to get away so she could get her feelings together. They didn't matter, not really but their words had cut straight through to many of Arya's insecurities. Sansa would have been a much better Queen, one everyone would have loved, with her courtesies and such.

She hadn't told anyone about what she had heard though she was sure her family suspected something was amiss. Robb had tried making jokes and reminiscing about happier times they had as children. Her mother had encouraged her to practise her water dancing again, although she did so grudgingly. Arya had smiled at her attempts but she couldn't get the things she had heard to leave her mind.

Feigning a headache she had returned to her room and sat on her featherbed. Her mother might have been able to comfort her but once again Arya felt unable to go to her. Time had changed Arya from a tomboyish girl into a stone-faced killer and she didn't want her mother to see the change and truly realise that all hope was lost for her youngest daughter.

A knocked sounded through the room but it wouldn't have been loud enough to disturb her if there was been even the slightest of other noise. Slowly, Arya rose to her feet, pushing back her doubts and getting ready to pretend.

She had small expectations, knowing it was more than likely her mother or Robb or someone who wanted her to do something. So when she opened the door and revealed her tall, black haired and blue eyed fiancé, her breath left her quickly. Gendry smiled at her shock and walked into her room without another word. Arya moved her gaze between him and the hallway, not saying anything before shaking her head and closing the door behind him.

"I'm aware that you haven't been a Lord for very long but even a stupid Bull should know that it's not proper for a man to be in a ladies room unaccompanied." They both knew that she cared not for what was proper and the smile that spread across her face showed just how happy she was to see him.

Gendry sat down on her bed and patted the area beside him, presumably asking her to come and sit next to him. He looked happier, more confident and much cleaner. Even Arya had to admit, albeit stubbornly, that he was handsome, maybe even in the same way Sansa's knights were supposed to be. He was dressed very nicely too, far nicer than any other blacksmith in all of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Since when have you cared about what was proper? The Arya Stark I know would probably do the very opposite of what was expected of her status just to prove that she could." They laughed together at his statement as it was absurdly correct. Arya moved across the room and sat down next to her best friend, all thoughts of the opinions of silly ladies long forgotten.

"Tell me what life is like in the camp of the mighty Stannis Baratheon. Have you turned into a perfumed Lord yet or are you still a stupid Bull?" To anyone else her words may have appeared cruel but to him it was merely their usual way of talking, even if it was one only they understood.

"It's hectic and there's so much for me to learn. Stannis grows weaker every day and I am expected to take over his responsibilities before too long." Gendry had been legitimised by his uncle, Stannis Baratheon when the latter had realised that Melissandre's magic had come at a terrible price. His life was connected to the red sorcerers' involvement and when he had sent her away his health had begun to deteriorate. It was common knowledge that Stannis was not long for the world hence he had found his heir in his bastard nephew.

"I'm sure you'll despise being a King when the time comes, probably more than I ever hated being a lady. Still, my father used to say that our duty will not always be to our liking but that does not mean that we should not to it as well as we could. I think, at the time, he only wanted me to try a little harder with my sewing but I believe his words could also be a guide for you."

"You know more of this than I do and I'm sure you won't let me make large political blunders when we are married."

It was only the briefest mention really, nothing certain or probing about his words. It was the first time either of them had mentioned their upcoming marriage in the other's presence and both of them seemed shocked that the words had appeared at all. Gendry looked embarrassed and Arya didn't know what to say, repressing the urge to call Gendry stupid again.

Gendry seemed to be the one to take initiative. "We haven't spoken about that, have we? You most likely hate me for forcing you to do the thing you fear the most…"

"I don't fear anything!" She snapped at him indignantly. "And I don't hate you, it's not as though this is something you wanted." Gendry looked away from her with an expression of guilt on his face but Arya chose not to dwell on that. "If you're going to be a King then you need someone who's not afraid to tell you when you're being an idiot. I can't let you get fat, either, like King Robert otherwise everyone will laugh at you."

They chuckled together, like old friends in the dark. After spending much of the night discussing the many things that had happened in their new lives, Arya finally revealed what she had heard that day. She only meant for it to be a light topic of conversation but Gendry seemed to sense that it upset her more than she let on.

"Listen to me, Arya Stark. It doesn't matter to me whether or not you can stitch some stupid piece of fabric or whether you know all for curtsies or whatever they're called. All those women are conniving snakes who have to use their words as weapons to hurt people but you, you are forthright and honest and if someone tries to do something against you all you have to do is run them through with your sword."

"I won't be a good Queen, I don't know how to. You would be better off marrying my sister, everyone knows that and you could keep the Baratheon alliance with Robb. Everything would be better for everyone if you married her." She couldn't stop the desperate words from spilling out against her will. Having Gendry marry Sansa was not what she wanted but she felt it would be best for her friend. And Sansa had always wanted someone just like Gendry.

"I don't want her though, I want you Arya." She wasn't expecting him to kiss her or anything like that but that's exactly what he did. He took control of her, moving his hands so they could support her, one around her hip and the other caressing her shoulder. Knowledge of what she should do fled from Arya as she struggled desperately to remember where she should put her hands or how she should move her mouth. It was over very quickly though she was sure she enjoyed it immensely.

After that she no longer mentioned whether or not she would make a good Queen because whenever she did Gendry always found a way of making her shut up.

But now Gendry was gone and Arya was left with all of her doubts with no one to assure her that everything would be alright. There were nice moments; riding through the streets where everyone seemed to love her was nice as was being able to boss around all of the ladies who thought they were better than her. Still she missed her husband.

The horse she was riding was beautiful. He was a deep chestnut with a dark chocolate mane. Her commands were obeyed instantly though he was not skittish and Arya felt very safe atop such a competent horse. Her guards did not seem quite as comfortable but Arya was able to ignore them except for the thought of how funny they looked as they tried to stay balanced while wearing all their heavy armour.

They rode to the edge of the small town and Arya could smell the pine of the trees so close to her. It was a picturesque landscape, both magnificent and foreboding. "Your Grace," one of the guards asked from behind her, nervously. "We should stay away from the forest; there are too many dangers for the few of us to take care of. It is an unnecessary risk."

On a better day Arya may have agreed with them, for the baby's sake but the forest was where she had found Robb again and she felt like there as something there she needed to find. Turning to the guards she said, "I would like to get closer to the forest, Ser. However if you do not wish to come then that is your choice, I will not think any less of you." With that she moved her horse into a gallop, racing towards her destination.

Soon enough she was deep within the lush green trees and even though she knew that her mother was going to give her a lecture it was worth it to feel so free. She remembered sneaking into the forest outside Winterfell, to follow Jon and Robb when they went to hunt. At first it had been scary, knowing that there was no one who knew she was there but then she would catch up to them and they would smile and laugh and teach her exactly what to do if she wanted to catch a plump rabbit.

When she thought back, Arya realised that a forest represented so many different moments in her life. She had grown up in the forest of Winterfell, acting very much the wild animal so many believed her to be. Then there was the time when she had been forced to chase Nymeria away because of that stupid prick Joffrey and lastly the forest was where she trekked through with Gendry and Hot Pie and was finally reunited with her brother. Memories both good and bad surrounded her just like the dark forest.

"Don't worry, baby," she whispered while she moved her hand to cradle her belly. "Daddy's going to come back and everything is going to be alright. You'll be able to go hunting in the forest and I'll teach you everything you need to know and we'll always be around to protect you. I promise," she said thinking of her father.

Eddard Stark was a good man, honourable and someone who cared about his family. Arya had loved him so much and had always wanted to make him proud even though she wasn't able to act like a proper lady, like Sansa. Yet when she had heard those men discussing her father, saying that if one hand could die so could another. She had been scared then; just a child and she didn't know what awaited her and her family. She wouldn't let history repeat itself; she wouldn't let her baby grow up without a father even if she had to kill every single Lannister herself.

A rustling drew her attention away from her baby as she tried to determine what had made the sound before disregarding it as unimportant. Her guards were probably searching desperately for her and Arya knew she should try to find them once more before she ran into something that wanted to eat her.

The rustling started again, louder this time and more certain. Arya could pinpoint the direction the sound came from and that whatever made it as moving towards her rather quickly. Her horse, with nerves of steel seemed to lose his wits and began bucking and neighing very loudly. Arya chose to dismount and take her chances with whatever was coming for her rather than to risk falling from her horse and hurting the baby.

She tried, really tried to keep hold of the reigns in her hands but she simply could not. Her horse ran away very quickly and Arya could do little other than watch it disappear. Arya liked to pretend that she was fearless most of the time but her heart was beating quickly and she was beginning to sweat. Stop it, she thought to herself. Fear cuts deeper than swords.

Arya wished she brought Needle, she always felt much better when she was holding the last gift Jon Snow had given her. Gendry had offered to forge a new sword for her, one that suited her new size better but Arya refused to part with her beloved weapon.

A shadow began to approach her as Arya struggled to keep still and decide what she should do and how she was going to protect herself. Her final action was to climb onto a branch of a nearby tree. She could have climbed higher if she had more time but she contented herself with the small bit of protection she had managed to provide for herself. All the while she thought of how painfully her mother was going to kill her for running off.

The wolves approached in a pack of three monsters, smaller than a direwolf but large enough to be deadly. They sniffed her out quickly, crowding around her and Arya knew that if she faltered for even a moment then everything would be lost. Looking around she saw that there was no way for her to climb any higher from where she was so she contented herself with hoping for her guards to find her before something bad happened.

She could hear their angry growls and their thirst for her blood. They were like Nymeria or her brothers' wolves; these wanted her in a way that chilled her to the bone. It was right, a Stark dying from a wolf attack would be the worst thing that could happen to her family. She was a wolf and she would not be killed by one.

Whatever Gods that existed she prayed to, whether they were her mother's Gods or her father's. For long minutes her prayers went unanswered and Arya despaired, once again losing herself within her own desire for survival. They jumped, their legs moving fluidly and in perfect synchronisation. Their mouth got close enough that a scream was wretched from Arya's mouth. Her mantra, fear cuts deeper than swords, grew less comforting the closer the wolves came.

"Please," it was her God now, the God of Death and there was only one thing she could beg for, "Not today, not now."

She didn't believe in miracles, miracles didn't save her father, nor protect her sister from the lion's den. So when there was a terrible growl, one that shook the very earth to the depths of its core, Arya assumed that her end was coming for her.

But some God had chosen to listen to her and she was spared that day.

A brilliant blur bounded into the fray, resulting in a flurry of snarls and scrapes. The fight continued until the wolves were battling the mysterious creature against Arya's tree, causing it to shake violently. Arya had to cling on for dear life, clenching her eyes shut so she could concentrate. She had no clue what the wolves were fighting, she was only glad that she seemed to be relatively forgotten.

Arya could not have said how long she was there for, how long she waited for it to be over. She kept expecting her guards to swoop in and find her but they didn't come so her imagination filled in the gaps of what was happening on the ground, with terrifying results.

Suddenly the sounds of the fight faded until the only noises being made were the sounds of retreat. The wolves were leaving, having been defeated by a creature stronger than even them. Arya still didn't want to open her eyes, could open her eyes because she didn't know how she'd be able to face this new threat.

Then a howl broke through the silence, a familiar howl, one Arya would know in her sleep. It was the howl of a direwolf, the howl of her direwolf. She opened her eyes and turned to face her rescuer, whispering a single word.

"Nymeria."