Arya's teeth wouldn't stop grinding together with anxiety. She'd been travelling for at least three hours on the back of Gendry's horse, with Gendry pressed against her back, groaning lightly in drowsy pain. By the looks of his now congealing wound, he'd gotten worse, but not so much that he'd lost consciousness. Yet, anyway.

The morning weather wasn't much to Arya's liking- wet and grey, yet strangely bright. It reminded her painfully of Jon Snow's eyes. Perhaps this was why she hated this weather so much. A mist of rain began showering them, the droplets speckling their heads. She heard Gendry stir behind her.

"Are you coping?" Arya bit her lip, as she often did when she was deep in thought or extremely concerned. She, right now, was the latter. Gendry raised his tired eyes to meet Arya's. They were shadowed heavily with grey, matching the dreary sky. His dark eyebrows furrowed.

"No. What kind of question is that? I was stabbed in my shoulder. Of course I'm not coping." Gendry griped, his voice rough. He let out another moan as the horse skipped over a small boulder, and was shoved into Arya's back. Arya rolled her eyes.

"I was just asking. No need to be rude." She dug her knees into the stallion so that it went into a brisk canter. They exited the forest they'd stayed in the last night, where the brawl had occurred. Gendry rested his head on the nape of Arya's neck, wincing in pain.

"Now where are you planning on going?" He asked, through gritted teeth. Arya hesitated. Where was she going? She hadn't anticipated on going anywhere in particular, just somewhere that Gendry could heal safely, somewhere without a chance of getting attacked by angry outlaws or knights. She shrugged.

"I don't know. But I want to find someone to look at that shoulder of yours." Arya answered, eying the gash on Gendry's upper arm. She was really worried about it- it was his dominant blacksmith arm, the one he used on every type of metal he could find. If he lost it to infection, she'd never forgive herself.

"Oh. You don't… you don't have to do that. I thought you needed to get to the Wall to find your brothers or something."

"Yes, I do. I have to get to the Wall. But one thing I'm not doing is travelling there alone. Understand?" Arya ordered, but she knew Gendry would stick with his own side. He was stupidly, irritatingly stubborn like that. Gendry grumbled, but another wave of pain stopped him from complaining, and he pressed his head into Arya's back to keep from screaming.

They were just leaving the border of the Neck when night fell, and both Arya and Gendry were saddle-sore between their thighs. Arya was stiff and hungry, but otherwise fine- she was more concerned for Gendry's sake. He'd fallen silent a few hours back, the slight rise and fall of his chest against her back telling her he was still breathing. As Arya squinted in the dusky light, she could see a flicker of something- was it a fire?- and pushed her knees into her horse.

As they rode closer, she could see it was a town. A city, in fact. Cobblestone walls surrounded crumbling houses and towers, glowing dimly in the distance. Arya's heart thumped. "Gendry. Look." She whispered, her eyes wide. She was glad to see a reasonably friendly looking place. After Harrenhal or Acorn Hall, she'd be happy to be anywhere right now.

Gendry looked up, his eyes dazed and out of focus. "Mm." He sighed, and his head lolled back on her shoulder. Arya bit down on her lip hard. She hadn't noticed the thin sheen of sweat covering his pale skin. He hadn't looked like this a few hours earlier.

"I need to find help. You don't look so good."

"Mm. Thanks."

Arya rode them into the village, anxiously looking around for someone who could help, someone who would help. She had no idea where they were. Riverrun was a long way back, Acorn Hall even further, and the only thing Arya knew was that she was far south of Winterfell. Gendry was heavy on her back.

The village-city place wasn't crowded, as it was almost night-time, but the civilians who were out gave them a strange look. The village was clean- It had a stone pavement which wound around the streets, and the houses around her looked sturdy, the people in them healthy. She looked ahead of her, where a small castle sat. She spotted a man and a woman, husband and wife, most likely, carrying a basket of bread and water.

"Oi!" Arya yelled, before she realised that wasn't the most polite way to get someone's attention. Gendry snickered weakly. "Uh. Excuse me!" Arya climbed from the horse, tied it to a tree that grew from a small garden and rushed over to the pair, who were walking down the street across from them. The woman looked her up and down, taking in her filthy tunic and tangled hair, before flipping her fair hair and sniffing, while the man ignored her completely. They walked on.

"Your loss, snobs." Arya hissed under her breath, before turning around, only to bump straight into another woman.

"Sorry." Arya mumbled, not taking much notice. The woman she ran into chuckled, a kind chortle.

"Do not apologise, child, I am the one who cannot see."

Arya looked up at the woman, and squinted at her in the evening light. She was a haggard, fragile creature, with a thick silver braid down her back. Her eyes were glazed with a milky film, indicating she was blind. Arya smiled- she liked this woman already. A younger girl, around Gendry's age, was following behind her. She was struggling to carry a bucket of water and two oranges.

"Let me." Arya took the bucket from the girl, who smiled warmly at her.

"Thank you very much!" the girl replied. She was small and pretty in an odd way, only a little taller than Arya, with heavy dark hair that curled around her shoulders. Her face was red and jolly. Arya looked at the pair for a moment. They seem nice enough, she thought.

"Um, sorry to disturb you, but… could I please have some help? Well, my friend… he needs help, actually. He's got wounded in his shoulder- I mean, he's gotten wounded in his shoulder, and he's really sweaty and his wound won't stop bleeding, and we have nowhere to go." It all came pouring out of Arya's mouth. The women stared at her in astonishment, before the old woman nodded.

"Well, girl, are you just going to stand there? Go and get your friend. Cara, fetch some clean linen, please, and boil the water over a fire." The old woman took charge, and Arya raced back towards the horse, where Gendry was passed out on.

After leading the horse through the streets of the unknown town, following after the pair of women. Arya noticed that the old woman relied heavily on the younger one, walking with one arm on her at all times. It was already dark when they all finally stopped in front of a small, run-down cottage on the outskirts. They hoisted Gendry from the horse, and carried him inside.

The house was small, but cosy. The flooring was simple, woven mats and timber. They're poor, Arya thought. She'd take anything now, though. A fire blazed in the corner, and there were three beds on the far end of the house. They lay Gendry down on a threadbare mattress, and the old woman went to work, dabbing blindly at his wound.

Arya swallowed. "What are your names?" She asked, sitting on the other side of Gendry's bed. The younger girl smiled, all crooked teeth and red gums.

"I'm Cara. This is Vivienne." She sat next to Arya, eyes kind. "And you are…?"

Arya stopped. "Oh, I'm no one." She shrugged, avoiding Cara's questioning, kind eyes. Vivienne laughed hardly.

"Every person has a name, no matter how lost they are. Now tell us your name, child." She looked up at Arya, without seeing. Arya shuffled awkwardly.

"… I'm… I'm Arry." She answered gruffly. The ancient smirked.

"For a girl? What were your parents thinking?" She wound a clean piece of cloth around Gendry's weeping shoulder. He groaned in his sleep, and Arya couldn't help but bite her lip again. Cara cocked her head, taking in Gendry. Her eyebrows raised.

"He's handsome. Good arms. Those are blacksmith's arms. What's his name?" Her brown eyes were shiny. Arya laughed.

"Good arms, s'pose, but Handsome? He's a bullhead. His name is Gendry." She looked down at her friend. His chest was bare, slick with sweat and blood, and his bright blue eyes rolled back into his head. Vivienne was now sewing up the gash with thread and a pin, and obviously, Gendry wasn't enjoying it, even unconsciously. Arya wondered how she could do it while blind- she must know her wounds well, to be able to fix them without seeing. Cara leant in close to Gendry, examining his face.

"Hello, Gendry." She purred. Gendry groaned again, causing her to jump back.

Let him be alright. Please. Arya prayed silently.

Valar morghulis, a voice in her head echoed back.

She pushed the thought out of her head for once.

After around an hour, two pails of water, three bandages and an orange, Vivienne was finally finished with Gendry. "I've done all I can. He just needs to rest now." She slowly got to her feet, groping blindly for Cara's helping hand. It wasn't there. She instead scrabbled around for a door handle.

"Thank you. Thank you so much." Arya said, helping her find the door.

"It was nothing." Vivienne smiled a toothless smile, and pushed open the door to the other room. Cara had fallen asleep around ten minutes ago, so it was just Arya and Gendry now. Arya knelt beside Gendry's head.

"Gendry? You still alive?" She whispered. "Gendry, stop faking, you bull." He stirred slightly, before his eyes flickered open. His breathing was shallow. His dazed eyes focused on Arya.

"Arya?" He murmured, and Arya grinned at him. He managed a weak smile, and sighed heavily. "Where am I? Where are we?"

"I… I don't know. We got taken in by an old woman and her granddaughter. What town we're in, I have no idea." She replied gently. Gendry chuckled weakly.

"Of course you don't. You never have any idea." He mumbled. Arya gently shoved him, and he groaned. "Hey, watch it. I'm tender right now. It's time for you to treat me like a high-born, I'm the one who's dying." His eyes glinted.

Arya shoved him again, a bit harder this time. "Shut up, you're not dying. Don't say that. Ever." She huffed, and he weakly raised his hands up in surrender.

"Whatever. Sorry. Anyway, we need to find out where we are. No idea at all?" Gendry changed the subject from dying hastily. Arya shrugged, leaning one elbow on Gendry's mattress. The mattress was soaked in blood and sweat, but she knew Gendry's blood and sweat almost too well sometimes. It didn't bother her anymore.

"Well… I heard them whispering while they patched you up. Something about… Lord Dustin." Arya searched her mind for what that might mean. Gendry frowned.

"Barrowton, maybe?"

"Maybe. I'll ask when they wake up."

"You do that, but only after you wake up, too. You need sleep, you look exhausted." Gendry bit his lip as he tried to roll over, the pain getting to him. Arya sat up, shaking her head.

"Not tired."

"Liar."

"Bullhead."

Gendry laughed aloud, but stopped and grimaced in pain. Arya, without thinking, grabbed his hand. "Ah, no, don't laugh. It hurts just to look at you."

"It's alright. The pain's gone away." Gendry was grinning at her through the pain. It took Arya a little while to figure out why, until she noticed her hand was still clasping his as tight as Bolton's shackles. Arya rapidly pulled it away, flushing.

"That never happened. Mention it again, and I'll throw a crab-apple at you."

"And there it is." Gendry sighed.

"What? There what is? I mean… what's there? There's nothing there. What would be there?"

"I have no idea what you're saying, but I think you're trying to ask what I mean by "there it is." I mean, there IT is. You insulting me and covering it up yet again." Gendry's eyes flickered tiredly. Arya cocked her shaggy head, a quirk she'd picked up from her direwolf, Nymeria.

"I don't get it. Covering what up?" Arya asked, curious yet bewildered.

"I really don't get YOU sometimes." Gendry huffed under his breath. "Don't worry about it. Now, sleep, m'lady, or I'll have to force you to." He closed his eyes. "You don't want that. Trust me."

"How am I supposed to sleep now? I'm curious. Come on. And don't jape with me to blow it over, I remember things, Gendry Waters, and I will remember this conversation. Don't you think I won't." Arya narrowed her grey eyes.

"Great. Now sleep. Do you want me to force you to? Arya Stark, do you REALLY want me to tell you to go to bed like I'm your fath- septa?" His eyes remained shut. Arya huffed.

"Yeah? How are you going to force me to? You can't even stand up." She crossed her arms, and leaned in close. Gendry's eyes flicked open, before he reached her good arm out, wound it around Arya's thin waist, and tickled her until she cried with laughter. He dragged her next to him on the mattress, and grinned at her.

"There. Bed. Sleep."

"You're the most irritating friend I've ever had, next to Hotpie. I'll sleep, but you have to as well. Alright?" She rested her head next to his on the straw-and-feather pillow. Arya's cheeks were pink, her grey eyes shining, and her glossy dark hair was similar to a birds nest.

A nice birds nest.

Gendry shuffled uncomfortably, his own cheeks reddening.

"I- alright. Let's sleep."

So they slept.