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Arya slowly opened her eyes, coming awake in her bed. It had been six long years since she had slept that good. She looked around a room that was both familiar and fore
ign to her. Not much had changed. Her featherbed felt just as soft as she remembered. Everything was kept in its place. The only difference was now it smelled of Jon. Winter forest and snow assaulted her nose as she took a deep, long breath.
When she wiped the sleep from her eyes she noticed she wasn't alone. Jon lay in a chair right beside her bed. His head lay propped in his hand as he slept. Arya was able to really study him after such a long time away from him.
His hair was much shorter and pulled back. Arya could not remember a time she had seen his black locks so tamed. She had a clear view of his face, which looked so young, as he slept peacefully. His lips were slightly parted as he snored softly. She smiled, but her smile did not last long.
There were scars on his handsome face, scars that had not been there the last time she had seen him. What had his life been like at the Wall? Perhaps she would ask him. It was possible his road had been as rocky and dangerous as her own.
Had Jon slept beside her in the chair this whole time? And how much time had passed? Her body felt stronger, though her stomach screamed for food. When she thought about it she realized she was starving.
Arya sat up in bed, trying not to make a sound and disturb Jon. As she scooted towards the edge of the bed her door slowly crept open. She stopped, looking up at her visitor and felt a swell of emotions at the face staring back at her. Sansa gave her a small smile, raising her finger to her lips to keep Arya silent.
"Meet me at the Godswood when you're dressed," Sansa whispered, disappearing out of the door. Arya glanced at Jon seeing that he had not moved a muscle. He remained sleeping.
She climbed from the bed and tip-toed passed him and out the door. Once from the room, she took off. Arya ignored the stares as she passed the inhabitants within Winterfell. They all stopped what they were doing, staring at their lost princess. Some bowed as she passed, while others looked on with curious glances.
When Arya made it to the courtyard she slowed her movements. The Godswood was just ahead of her. Taking a long breath, she entered. Sansa stood in front of the large Weirwood tree her father used to pray to. Her sister had changed, even more than Jon. Gone was the little girl and in her place stood a tall, regal woman.
Arya stopped just short of standing at her sister's side. The last memory she had of Sansa was not the greatest, but that had been a lifetime ago. Still, she felt like that same little kid in the shadow of her sister. Looking at Sansa's profile, Arya realized she had turned into the woman her parents had longed for her to be. Her beauty was unmatched.
Sansa turned her eyes towards Arya, a small smile growing upon her face. "Hello, Arya," she said, softly.
"Hello, Sansa," Arya said, her throat raw with thirst.
The girls stared at one another without making a move for what felt like forever. Arya wanted to throw her arms around her sister, yet she kept herself at an arm's distance. She had done horrible things to Sansa growing up. Had her sister forgiven her as she had forgiven Sansa for the wrong she did to her? Were the tears in her sister's eyes a product of her happiness to have Arya back, or were they hurtful tears? Arya was still in her musing when Sansa let out a small cry and threw her arms around her.
Arya was so caught off guard she froze, but the sound of Sansa crying broke through her jumbled thoughts, and before her father's favorite tree she wrapped her arms around her sister and gave in to her own emotions.
It did not matter what had happened in the past. It did not matter what ill thoughts and emotions the two girls had for one another. All of those things had melted away through the nightmare of their journey. She needed Sansa as much as she needed the air to breathe. She was her blood, her link to her lost family.
"I'm here, now, Sansa. I'm here," she whispered in her sisters ear, causing Sansa to hug her tighter. It had been years since she had cried, yet this was the second time in days that the tears ran freely down her cheeks. She felt no embarrassment by her public show of emotions.
"I'm so sorry, Arya. For the person I was, for the brat I used to be. I treated you horribly."
Arya shook her head. Their sour treatment of one another had always gone both ways. All those yeara ago Arya could not understand how Sansa conformed to the mold everyone thought she should be, and she resented her sister for her perfection and for the love she received from everyone. Arya had been ate up with jealousy.
"It doesn't matter anymore. Those two girls are buried and gone. There's been too much death, too much suffering, to hold on to the anger of children."
They stood in each other's embrace for what seemed like the entire day. Not much was said between them, just watery smiles and a brokenness they both felt.
"I truly believed Joffrey was going to let father live. I was so blind."
Her soft confession filled the air around them with sadness. They sat before the hot spring under the shelter of the Weirwood tree. Arya was thrown back to the day her father died, the day the crowd cheered as an innocent man's blood soaked the concrete.
"Someone like Joffrey could never have shown compassion," Arya said, bitterly.
Sansa nodded her head in agreement. "He got what he deserved in the end, though."
Arya looked towards her sister, surprised to hear the hatred in her words. Sansa's eyes were dark and brooding as she stared into the hot spring's water. Her sister no longer was a brittle flower but hardened steel. She could see the power Sansa now carried within her.
"What happened to you?" Arya said, not meaning to speak her words aloud.
Sansa raised her eyes and stared directly at Arya, not flinching away from her sister's question. "I was shown the truth about this world, Arya. I was shown that the dreams of a little girl are just that…dreams. The real world is much more harsh, and if you don't learn to play by the world's rules you die."
"Or you make your own rules," Arya added, smiling.
At first, Sansa only stared at her sister, allowing her words to soak in, but soon she joined in with a smile of her own.
"They tried to destroy our family, Sansa, but they made the mistake of allowing us to live. Winter has come, and winter will come for them all, I swear it!"
Sansa's smile slowly disappeared. "Things have changed, Arya. When Jon is ready he will fill you in on what has happened."
Arya looked confused over her sister's words. One minute Sansa looked like a warrior queen, but now she looked scared again. "Jon is King of the North…how? He left the Night's Watch. We know the penalty of that all too well."
"That, too, is something he will speak to you about. It is his story to tell."
"She's right.." Arya and Sansa turned to see Jon walking towards them. He took a seat beside Arya and told her every bloody, violent detail of the past six years. She hung on his every word, feeling every betrayal and heartbreak. When he told her of the mutiny of his brothers Arya felt her blood grow cold. Sansa excused herself, promising to meet back up with Arya later that night.
"She doesn't like to hear the story," Jon said, as if to explain her sudden departure.
Arya could understand that completely. To hear what had been done to him was like having the same done to herself.
"I felt every knife slide into my flesh, felt the warm blood pour out of me. I was in denial about what was happening. I had fought beside these men, and they were plunging a knife into my chest."
Arya reached out and took Jon's hand, holding it tightly in her own. She could still hear the pain in his voice, the betrayal still raw.
"But, you sit here beside me, just as alive as I am. How?" Arya asked.
"A red witch brought me back," he said, laughing without humor. "She was traveling with Stannis Baratheon. When he was defeated trying to take our home back from the Boltons she came back to the Wall for refuge. I guess you can say she was in the right place at the right time. I have to admit, though, there is a part of me that wishes she would have never brought me back."
Arya felt the air dissipate from her lungs at a rate that left her head spinning. The Godswood melted away. The Weirwood tree and Jon disappeared and she was thrown back to a day when her life had truly taken a turn for the worse.
Gendry was pulled away from her by two guardsmen as the Red Witch looked on with a knowing smile. Arya had reached for him, but the men made quick work of her. She was pushed aside like the weakling she had been that day as they dragged him to the carriage cart.
She would never forget the look in Gendry's eyes. She would never forget him staring at her, laying his true feelings out for her to see. He had loved her, for how long she wasn't sure, but she could see it in his blue eyes. The way his face crumbled in the knowledge he would never see her again. Arya had just stood there that day, watching the carriage roll away and out of sight. In that moment she had realized she had loved him back. She had loved him all that time.
"Melisandre?" Arya whispered the name from her list.
Jon turned towards her in surprise, his eyes growing wide. "How did you…"
"She killed someone I cared about." Arya could say no more, for she felt the tears pricking at her eyes. Jon reached for her face. He gently pulled her face to look at him and she did so willingly. His look spoke of loss as well, as if he knew what she was feeling. It had been a while since Arya allowed herself to feel the loss of Gendry. It had been a while since she allowed herself to understand that he was dead. She was not a fool. Arya had known Melisandre had every intentions of killing him when she took him away.
"I sent her away, Arya. She did something vile and I could not allow her to stay. You will never have to look upon that woman again, I promise."
"Pity. I would not have minded having a chat with her just one last time," Arya said, a single tear running down her cheek.
Jon looked taken aback by her statement, but he recovered quickly. His hand remained on her cheek, his thumb rubbing small circles into her cold flesh. She found his touch soothed the beast within her. His eyes stared at her own, as if searching the deepest parts of her soul.
Jon had always been different. She cared for him above all others, even in her own family. Every other thought about her life had left her at one point or the other but not Jon. He had remained a constant figure in the background of the horrors she faced. It had been his memory, his gift of Needle, that kept her from losing herself completely. Perhaps one day she would share that with him. She knew he would like to hear it.
"What was their name? The one Melisandre killed?" Arya swallowed before answering. She had not said his name in years. Did she have the strength to say it now?
"Ge—Gendry," Arya said, her chest tightening.
Jon pulled Arya towards him, wrapping his arms around her. She put up no fight, but allowed him to hold her as her heart waged war. Her thoughts were on a boy who had left this world too young, who had protected her and vice versa. Arya grabbed the front of Jon's shirt, squeezing the fabric inside her hand, desperate to stop drowning in the memory of Gendry.
Arya heard someone crying, realizing the sobs were coming from her own mouth. Gendry was the first boy she had ever loved, but he never felt as if he were good enough. He had always good enough.
Jon lightly placed kisses atop Arya's head, allowing her to purge her pain onto him. He soothed her softly, telling her over and over she was safe.
"I'll never let anything hurt you again, I promise this," he whispered over and over. Arya knew that promise was in vain, she had seen enough of this world to know, but coming from Jon she allowed herself to believe him…even if only for this brief moment.
The longer Jon held her and talked softly of his pledge of protection The memory of Gendry began to fade. Her lost boy, her friend and love, was once again tucked away in his box in her mind. She locked it tightly, determined not to open it again. He was gone and no amount of magic could change it. Instead, she focused on Jon's voice. She focused on his hands rubbing her back and his lips in her hair.
She let out a shuttered breath, allowing his love to fill her broken heart. "I know what it feels like, Arya. Your heart aches to see them one more time, even if it's only a breath of a moment. You would give anything to touch them, but you know that will never happen. This boy you lost will stay with you forever, there's no changing that. But, you're still here, still alive, and you have to keep going. It's okay to miss them. It's okay to feel that pain, but never let it consume you."
"What was her name?" Arya asked him in return. There was no denying he spoke from experience.
For a long while, there was no answer. Arya thought she had misjudged Jon's sadness, but he finally answered her.
"Ygritte." Arya closed her eyes, realizing that both her and Jon had experienced the same loss. "She died in my arms," he added, whispering.
Arya tightened her hold on him, pouring all of her love into him just to ease his heartache. They were shadows of their former selves, left in this world with battered hearts.
"We have each other, right?" Arya asked him, needing an assurance he would not leave her too.
"Forever," he answered, kissing her forehead.
They sat by the hot spring as the snow fell down around them. Jon held Arya's hand, both of them needing to feel a connection to something living. He talked to her about the Wall and of Samwell Tarly. He told her how they had won back Winterfell from Ramsey Bolton, and how the Northmen and Wildlings alike had named him their king. All the while, she hung to his every word. A feeling of peace washed over her, a peace she had not felt since the day she left this place as a child.
"You will be a good king, Jon. You'll be someone I would be honored to follow."
He smiled a real smile, his eyes dancing in the light of the sun. She, again, thought of how handsome he truly was. She had never noticed as a child, but she no longer was a child.
"I'll need your help, Arya. I'll need you by my side."
"You never had to ask that of me. I'm by your side, now and always," she said.
"Jon…Arya."
Both Jon and Arya turned to the sound of Sansa calling to them. It seemed the day was not done giving up it's surprises. Beside Sansa sat someone she had heard was long in his grave, yet there he sat.
"Bran?" Arya said, her world tilting on its axis once again.
Many of you have had questions about if this will be (Arya x Gendry) or (Arya x Jon). I wish I could answer this question for you, but that would give some things away. I will say this…it will be complicated. Continue to read and all will be revealed as we go along. I will say this I am a diehard Gendrya fan, but I'm fascinated by the outline GRRM had for GOT originally. I've been fighting this story for months now, but I want to write it. I hope y'all enjoy. Get those reviews coming!