Summary: Gendry and Jon make an overdue arrival at Winterfell.

Gendry

As Gendry and Jon travelled, he knew when they had reached the North. The bright southern colours dimmed, the flat lands heightened into rolling hills and the sun died. Yet there was vitality to this land, a life that far outshone Kings Landing. Here everything was spring-like and lush, though the air was crisp and cold, the sky white and threatening to snow. He didn't mind. He actually rather enjoyed the change in scenery. Besides he was dressed warmly and he could already see the great fortress of Winterfell. It had huge grey stone walls and spires that seemed to break into the low cloud.

"It looks better in the sun." Jon joked, seeing his reaction.

Gendry grinned at his friend knowing it wasn't Winterfell he had come to see, though the sight was welcome after their weeks of travel. In the distance he could see two horses running towards them. He couldn't make out the features though he could see that one of them was a woman. Jon smiled and kicked his horse into motion and he followed, watching as the people became more distinct. One was indeed a woman, her long hair free and curling at the ends as it whipped in the wind. Her eyes were grey but shone, as if they were reflecting the light. He knew who those eyes belonged to, Jon's mother Lady Lyanna Stark. She beamed at them both as her horse came to a stop beside Jon. She hugged him tightly while a top her horse before pulling back. They were smiling at one another.

"Mother it is good to see you."

"And you Jon; Prince Gendry, it is a pleasure." She bowed her head in respect to him. "Allow me to introduce my nephew, Bran of House Stark." Lyanna introduced, and he studied the boy closely. Bran was younger than himself around the age of eight and ten, his dark hair almost reached his shoulders and he was wearing thick furs. His eyes were different to his aunt's, showing more of a pale blue than a grey, but his smile was just as easy.

"My Prince welcome to the North." He too bowed his head to him before offering to race Jon back home. As he watched the two horses gallop away and Lady Lyanna came up beside him, their pace steady.

"How many years has it been?" She asked with a smile.

"Ah too many my lady, but then I've been busy keeping your son out of trouble." She chuckled at his words, knowing that they were both as bad as each other.

"Is that correct? I knew it was a mistake to allow Jon to live in Kings Landing, the both of you must have almost driven your father mad." It was his turn to laugh.

"Hardly, my father never paid any attention to either of us; he's much too busy ruling the Seven Kingdoms." Gendry said softly, not really knowing if what he said was a jest or not. His father had never taking ruling seriously.

"In that case you may stay as long as you wish, the hospitality of Winterfell is yours."

"Thank you."

They rode the rest of the way in a comfortable silence; he inspected the North Country again. It was a lavish green with the melting ground snow. The tree's stood proud and tall, never seeming to end. The woods were dotted with the red of Weirwood trees, a forbidden sight in the South. Soon enough they reached the outer walls of Winterfell and he could hear the ringing clash of metal in the yard, people talking and laughing and the howling of wolves. Though the sound should have unnerved him it didn't. Jon's direwolf Ghost had grown to a massive size over the years but he was sure that the sound didn't come from him. The creature was silent, even when he moved, hence his name.

When he came into the court he saw the blacksmith's forge, the local people who lived within the walls, the farmers, they all nodded or bowed or knelt as he passed them. As he and Lady Lyanna dismounted their steeds, he saw the Stark family before him. While the men bowed, Lady Catelyn and her daughter Arya curtsied. When he spotted her his stomach performed a nervous flip. He was a little surprised to see her stood before him, knowing how unruly she was. He suspected that she had been forced to greet him. She grinned briefly before she dived into Jon's arms.

"Jon!" She called happily, leaping at him. A broad smile stretched across her face as she tightened her hold.

"Oof, Gods Arya, you're getting too big to be jumping at me like this." Though his words chided, his voice was nothing but gentle. He hugged her harder, pulling her from the ground.

"Shut up! I missed you!" She laughed and buried her face in the crook of his neck. He set her down, careful not to drop her and hugged his mother properly.

"Mother, you look well." He pulled back to study Lyanna's face, his looks so much like her own.

"As do you. Gods you look so much like your father." She said with a wide smile. She bent to pat Ghost between his ears.

Arya took her eyes from her cousin to inspect Gendry. She didn't bow her head when their gazes met; rather her eyes were steady, taking him in from is black hair to his muddy boots. Her expression never changed but he did notice a slight tremor in those silver eyes as he inspected her in return. Was she afraid of him? He frowned and her eyes darted away.

"Prince Gendry, you honour us with your presence, but please come, you should feast and rest. It is a long journey from Kings Landing and I'm sure you would be glad of it." Lord Rickard Stark said, calling him from his musings. Despite his old age, the voice rang true and clear. Gendry cleared his throat in order to reply.

"Thank you Lord Stark, I would be very grateful to lay for a while before seeing your home for myself. I've heard many stories." Gendry glanced at Jon, returning his grin.

"Then so you shall." Lord Rickard replied, a small smile turning up his thin mouth.

Soon enough Gendry found himself in a large comfortable room, the floors and walls heated from the underground springs. His bed was covered in thick furs and soft wool throws. The aged windows gave him a view of the courtyard below where he could hear the ring of clashing steel. When Gendry looked down he saw Lady Arya locked in combat with her aunt, but rather than practising with wooden swords, they were using real metal and held nothing back. Intrigued, he dried himself from his bath and clothed, making his way down to where the ladies battled. He made no noise, for he did not wish to interrupt their duel.

Concentration was etched into their faces as they attacked and parried, retreated and collided again. He was fascinated with how Arya moved. She seemed to glide; her movements were graceful and effortless as they penetrated her aunt's defence. Lyanna was quick and skilled to be true, but Arya far out matched her. Within minutes, Lyanna was pinned to the floor, her niece's sword, Needle pointed at her throat.

"Yield" She panted, gasping for breath as Arya helped her up.

"Well done Arya, you truly are a swordswoman to be proud of. I'm sure Syrio would be very pleased with you." She grinned down at Arya, respect and delight shining in the depths of her eyes. It was then she glanced up at him and curtsied.

"Prince Gendry, you should have made yourself known." Arya spun, her eyes scanning over him. She didn't bow or even acknowledge him in any way. He didn't mind for he remembered what Jon had told him about his cousin countless times. 'She's stubborn to her core and can be rather infuriating. She's rebellious and defiant' Gendry grinned, seeing for himself that his friend's words were not exaggerated. She stood tall and straight, her chin rose as if daring him to challenge her. Her eyes were like her aunts, only more unusual. They were not a mere grey, rather silver.

"You seemed so engaged with your niece that I did not want to distract you Lady Lyanna." Lyanna sheathed her sword with a chuckle.

"I fear I no longer test my dear niece's skills, for she has surpassed me in the art of Water Dancing." He found himself grinning. 'Art of water dancing' she had said. Jon had once told him that Arya had such lessons, but he didn't know what he had really meant until now. Obviously it wasn't a typical method of sword play that the girl had been taught. "Now my dear Arya, I must ask you to come with me, we must get ready for the feast." She commented, taking her arm and leading her to their quarters. As they passed he was sure that he heard Arya groan.