Sanguinans Ruby

Blood splattered on the stone below her. The skin around the man's neck had cut as easy as warmed butter. Falling to the ground with his eyes glazed over, Arya smirked at herself. "Valar morghulis".

The man wasn't one of hers, but she was hired to kill him. For pocket change she took names. Names of men she did not know. She barley remembered his name, just the amount she would receive. I was enough to get her through the next few weeks, for her journey back to Winterfell.

It had been years – to which she had lost count – since she had been there, she wondered if too much time had passed.

"A girl must pace herself, a girl will wear down." Arya whipped her head towards the voice.

"Aye. But this is not a man's business." She was tired of him, Jaqen H'ghar, constantly finding himself in her space. Since leaving Braavos, she wished to sever all ties to the man without a face, a no one. He was a thorn in her side. Yes, she was grateful for all he had done for her. It was time for him to let her go. He knew as much.

She thought of her sister and brother. The only other two remaining in the house of Stark. She heard whispers over the past year. Jon was not a bastard at all, but a Targaryen. She had no idea how that was possible, but she had a feeling it had to be true.

"I must see what has become of my home." Jaqen understood, he couldn't help but be proud of her.

"A time has come for a girl named Arya to finish what she started. For a girl has a higher calling, some ones to love." His eyes were sullen. Arya's face read with gratitude. "A girl must go, this has to be goodbye." She held out her hand, Jaqen held his out in mirror; fingertips touching. The gesture lingered for a moment, then Arya stepped away. She turned to her dapple gray, and mounted her to take off in a trot. She did not look back.

"Valor morghulis." The red and white-haired man whispered after her. "Farewell Arya Stark."

Gendry

It had been difficult to find a forge that would allow for Gendry and his guild to work in. Especially since they didn't intend to stay in one place for long. Mainly they traded labor for a day or so's use. Just enough time to re-stock on weapons.

Business was fair, he always made enough to keep going. To survive. The other men were pleasant enough. It was a man named Madden who invited Gendry to join the rag-tag group.

"Ever thought about being a merchant, boy?" Madden had asked upon entering the small forge that Gendry took up work. Back in Pentos, near the sea. "You do a fine job with that hammer of yours. Aye, a fine job indeed."

"Never had the chance." Gendry responded, eyes crystal blue peering through the soot and sweat that coated his face.

"Well, now yeh do."

Coming back to Westros was difficult to say the least. All the awful things that had happened there in his short life were nothing less than inhumane. He was almost murdered there. Twice. The first was strictly 'cause he was the baseborn son of a young tavern girl and the late King Robert Baratheon. The second was also because of his lineage. However, it was his uncle Stannis Baratheon's wench that wanted to sacrifice him for her god, by burning him at the steak.

Gendry has no with, nor ever, to die at the hands of a highborn, wench, or otherwise.

"Eye Gen!" The voice of one of his guild 'mates' broke him out of his trance. "We be near."

They had been traveling for almost a day and a half, with their destination laying in Winter Town. However, they had to stop at an Inn. The cold being too brisk to continue of make camp.

Gendry hopped off his steed. A percheron, possibly, splashed with black. He needed to bring up the rear when they stop. Thieves were now his enemy. Not the Gold-Cloaks, nor the King's Guard. He was now destined to keep the first watch when they arrived.

"The boy never speaks." One of the new recruits, Flamb, noted to another fellow guild member.

"Rarley, don't know what he's sav 'in his breath for." Another member, Crutis, replied. A comical feel behind his own breath. "Madden knows how to choose 'em."

"Where from?"

"Dust filled old smithy, back on the shores of Pentos."

"Bet he's never known a winter in all 'is life."

"Oi, if he hasn't he will soon enough."

Though the two spoke in near whispers, Gendry could hear them. It was true, he almost always remained dumb. Partially because he hadn't anything to say, and partial because being silent allowed for the knowledge of secrets. Secrets that could become useful.

Arya

Arya cantered up to the tree-brake leading to a tavern in Winter Town. She normally would find a tree trunk to climb and sleep in. Though the further north she got, the more she remembered about frost bite and winter's lung.

Sliding off her horse she flew up the crimson hood of her cloak. She had taken to wearing it some time ago, as a reminder that she was an assassin. Men in Braavos had took to calling her the 'red nightmare'. It also slowly became a reminder of Melassandre, the whore wench whom bought her friend. Rumors of his gruesome death spread. Arya vowed to not ride without it until the Red Wench was burned, just like her Gendry: the only family she had left.

She tucked her long braid into her hood. She could still get mistaken for a man if she was careful enough. Not that she was worried for herself.

The place was dim lit. the wall candles seemed to float as the large fire became lazy with every soul who wondered in. Nobody seemed to notice as she walked through the fading crowd on her way to the purchase a room for the evening.

"I need a room." She told the girl with a corset a size too small, hair mussed beyond repair.

"That would be one dragon, lad." The girl didn't bother to look at Arya directly.

She dug into the pocket of her brown leather breeches and tossed the coin onto the bench.

"Oi! This one ain't no lad!" The drunk sitting next to her had saw a flash of her figure with the movement of her cloak.

The tavern girl snapped her head to them and eyed Arya up and down. "Jim! Y'er right!" She was astonished. Arya hated when people did this, bluntly stare at her for waring men's cloths.

"Pardon miss. But a young maid like you should have a man, an escort. Being in these parts alone could get yee raped. Especially dressed like that." The girl blurted out.

The man 'Jim' took his nasty, earth covered hand and placed it at the small of Arya's back.

"I could protect you." He grinned with yellow teeth and shit smelling breath. "Got a fine arse on you too." His hand slid down.

"Don't touch me." She commanded with a hoarse voice, shifting so that he was no longer touching her.

"Oh, come now." Jim brought his lips to her ear. "Bet you've never had the pleasure of being with a real man." He looked from her face to her chest and back again. "Or any man."

Arya was fed-up. Her face burned as hot as the candles with annoyance. "I said, Don…"

"Don't you think you're a bit close there Jim? She clearly finds you revolting." A man from behind them interjected.

"Oh I didn't mean no harm… just hav 'in a bit-o-fun is all." He stroked down Arya's cheek. "Ain't that right Little Red." Arya slapped his hand away and shot an eye full of daggers at him. Jim's hands raised up in defeat. "you know where to find me if yah changer yer mind." He walked away, Leaving Arya to settle down.

"Sorry about 'im, gets a bit nasty when he's had too much." The man who interjected a moment ago said, sitting down next to Arya and ordered two beers. "Here, on me." He slid one to her.

Arya bit her tongue to stop herself from blowing up. "Look. I didn't need an… y…" she had turned so that she was facing him. Stopping mid-sentence because she was looking at a ghost. She was met with unkept black hair covering Bluer than Blue eyes – soul piercing eyes.

"You?" She whispered so he barley heard her. Her heart was beating at an exponential rate, a wave of emotions crashing down. "But you're…"

"Dead?" He responded, kindness and worry swelling in his eyes. "Surprise! Turns out I'm not that easy to kill. I…"

Arya then did something very uncharacteristic of her. She leapt forward into his arms, her hood falling as she did so. "You're alive!" He could hear sobs from his chest as her protectively, possessively wrapped his arms around her. "… Gendry."

"I'm here, I'm ok."