A/N: Okay so sorry that it took me forever to post this chapter up but, unfortunately I ran into some tech prob w/ my laptop... it crashed Dx And i had to re-write the story four times until I got it back to the first draft.
Btw this entire story is written in Arya's POV. So all the thoughts she has may not be right, it's just her opinon. Ie Arya thinks she is ugly but, I always imagine an older maisie playing this Arya and we all know she's beautiful. But, there are quite a few other opinons she has in this chapter that are not correct either. Just thought I should make that clear.
Anywhoo, thank you for your patience and enjoy :D
Arya heard the faint click of a lock and the loud clatter of chains as the bindings securing the trapdoor tumbled onto the ground. It had taken only a matter of seconds after Arya performed the secret knock – announcing her brothers of her arrival – for Rickon to remove the bindings, permitting her entry. Her brothers had never been so quick to undo the locks before; it was clear that both Rickon and Bran had been anxiously awaiting her arrival. Without a doubt, her brothers worried for Arya's safety. Typically, Arya would never be gone longer than a couple of hours; the longest she had ever been out was six. This was nothing compared to the twelve brutish hours of her current journey. Arya had never arrived home so late before; granted, the normal grocery store she would hit up was far closer than the Walmart had been. Plus, she wasted a lot of time when she ran into Yoren, Gendry and the others. Travelling with a group had tremendously slowed down her normal pace. The trip back had taken almost twice as long than the trip to the Walmart; this even included the time she had wasted with her detour to the Freshco.
Slowly, the noises grew softer, and as the final binding was removed, there was a brief moment of silence until the trapdoor finally creaked open. Before Arya could call out to her brothers or instruct her new pack to unload the supplies, Arya felt a heavy weight crash into her chest and the impact sent her tumbling onto the floor. The force of the fall had been equivalent to the force of the collision. Her elbows scratched the uneven and rocky terrain underneath her, creating new wounds and opening old ones. Normally, Arya would have hissed in pain from the scrapes on her elbow, but another pain was currently dominating her senses, a pain far much worse than the fall. A heavy and unfamiliar weight was perched upon on her chest. Whatever was on top of her compressed her diaphragm, prohibiting any oxygen from entering her lungs. Arya couldn't breathe and she quickly began to panic. She was about to call to her new allies for support when suddenly she heard a faint whimper on top of her.
Arya shifted the weight of the object on top of her and once some pressure was taken off her chest, she greedily began sucking in gasps of air. After the breathing issue had been resolved, Arya took a couple of moments to calm her frantic heartbeat. Eventually Arya settled down and her panic dispersed; it was then when she noticed a flash of auburn under her chin. Rickon had been the one to tackle her to the ground and he was now clutching onto her in some form of an embrace. His small arms were wrapped around her thin waist and his head was buried bellow her left breast, right in the crook of her ribs. Several months of malnutrition had left her ribs protruding outside of her body and she felt the bone digging into Rickon's temple but he did not seem to mind. He only clutched onto her tighter and continued weeping into her chest.
Arya raised a shaky hand and ran it through his thick auburn hair. Where his hair was once smooth and soft to the touch, his hair was now grimy and coarse due to the years of improper hygiene and malnutrition. As Arya continued to run her hand through his hair, strands of auburn easily detached themselves from her baby brother's head and wound in her fingertips. He continued to weep into her chest. His salty tears stained her new shirt but Arya did not mind. She did not offer her brother any false reassurances because things were not alright and everything was not going to be okay soon; Arya doubted if anything was going to be okay again. Her brother may have been a mere child of seven but the pandemic had forced him to let go of his childhood and he no longer needed the truth shielded from him for his own protection. Rickon was fully aware of their dire circumstances, so rather than offer him any false hope, Arya continued stroking his hair and she raised her other hand to rub his back. Through the silent touches, she knew Rickon understood what she was conveying. She was letting her baby brother know that she was here and safe and she would continue to look after him until she drew her last breath.
The consoling seemed to help- Rickon's sobs grew quieter and quieter and now he was able to form coherent words rather than the whines and mumbles he had spouted out before. "You came home so late," he cried. "Too late. It's almost sundown. I thought... Bran thought... We thought you had-"
Rickon's words snapped Arya back to reality. She shifted her attention from her brother to the sky above them. The once blue horizon was now filled with vibrant colours ranging from a bright orange to a dark pink. Where once the sight would have been considered relaxing or even breathtaking, it now only elicited Arya with one emotion: fear . Soon, the sun would set and night time would be upon them. The Walkers came out in the day as well but they thrived in the dark. Soon, hundreds of Walkers would be upon them, and even though Arya had some new muscle, so to speak, that did not mean she was foolish enough to think that eight humans could take on all those Walkers. They would have to quickly unload their supplies and secure the shed before the sun set. Judging from the position of the sun, Arya guessed they only had thirty minutes left, an hour if they were lucky.
Arya removed the hand tangled in Rickon's hair and placed it under his chin. Gently, she nudged his head upward so she was now looking into his deep Tully blue eyes. She could see that Rickon's eyes were reddened and tears were falling freely down his chubby cheeks. Rickon sniffed, drawing the remainder of his tears back inside while wiping the rest of them away with the back of his sleeve. Arya smiled at her little brother's control. Prior to the pandemic, he would constantly throw temper tantrums. There was no taming him when he was upset, but now he was able to quickly bottle up his emotions to face the task at hand. He was strong; he was a Stark.
"I know, Rickon. I know. I'm sorry I came home so late. But you're right. The sun will set soon and we need to quickly unload the food and supplies before night time. I need you to be strong for me so you can help the others and I unload the supplies before sundown. Can you help me with that little brother?" Arya asked him.
It wasn't until then that Rickon noticed the other men accompanying his older sister. He quickly detached himself from Arya's embrace and pushed himself off the ground. His eyes quickly scanned the other men and a look of fear and confusion flashed through his eyes. With the exception of Weasel, the rest of the men were much bigger than he was, and even though Yoren and Gendry were the kindest of the group, their physic made both men seem extremely threatening.
Arya quickly sensed Rickon's discomfort. "It's okay Rickon; they're... friends."
Rickon did not seem to notice Arya's hesitation and trusted her conformation immediately. He then sprinted over to the shopping carts and promptly began unloading the supplies. Arya joined him soon after and without having to utter a word, the rest of the men began helping as well.
They finished unloading the remainder of the items a short while later. Arya nudged Rickon towards to entrance of the trapdoor. The sun was sinking lower and lower into the horizon and they still needed to secure the shed. Rickon quickly obliged and ran inside the entrance to join Bran and Weasel, whom Hot Pie had carried inside the moment they arrived. Lommy, Hot Pie and Yoren followed Rickon inside the shed, leaving Arya and Gendry alone at the entrance. Arya waited for Gendry to enter first, but he stubbornly waited outside the entrance, insisting that she should slip in before him. He went so far as to give her a mocking bow and gesture, muttering the words "ladies first." Arya scowled at him, which only seemed to amuse Gendry. She angrily stormed inside the shed, muttering a curse under her breath. She heard Gendry's soft chuckle behind her. Arya could not comprehend why he loved teasing her so much.
Once everyone was inside the shed, Arya began securing the trapdoor. Rickon offered to help with the bindings but Arya always felt more comfortable doing it herself. This way she could ensure that all the bindings were secure so there was no hope for a Walker to be permitted entry. She heard shuffling behind her and the chatter of voices but Arya was in no mood to mingle at the moment. After Arya tied the final binding and secured the lock, she began inspecting the other entrances. It did not take long for Bran to figure out what she was doing. He tried assuring her that he and Rickon had checked all the entrances moments before her arrival. Arya did not waver from her task. It only took one crack or one loose binding and the Walkers would be able to break through their safe haven. Arya could not stand the thought of the Walkers destroying her family. She had made a promise to her father that she would take care of her two little brothers. She continued examining the entrances.
After she had checked each of the entrances a minimum of three times, Arya concluded that the shed was secure. She wanted nothing more than to plop herself down on the cold hard floor of the shed and sink into a peaceful sleep, but the paranoia kept her awake and alert. Never once had Arya felt safe in these past three years. She only slept when her body protested against the lack of proper rest, and even then, Arya's dreams were plagued with nightmares.
She scanned the shed and noticed that Hot Pie and Lommy had already made themselves at home. Each of them was wrapped in a blanket that she had stolen from the Walmart and they were chattering away about something that Arya had no intent on eavesdropping on. They were probably just talking about something mind numbing and stupid. Arya couldn't see herself getting along with the two boys. She had yet to forget the incident at the Walmart, and Arya neither forgot nor forgave. She noticed the little girl, Weasel, curled up in her own blanket with her head rested on Hot Pie's lap. The Barbie doll was still clutched firmly in her hands but the tension and fear from her face was gone. She fell asleep instantaneously and the angelic child looked so peaceful. Arya could only hope the little girl's dreams were filled with precious memories long before the pandemic started rather than the gruesome nightmares Arya and her brothers encountered far too often.
Rickon and Bran were on the far end of the shed. They were leaning their backs on the shed's wall and seemed to be captivated by something Gendry was saying. Gendry sat opposite from her brothers and seemed to be rather engrossed in some story he was telling them. Arya saw the smiles etched on each of their faces and Arya could not help but feel her heart swell up with joy. She could not remember the last time she had seen her brothers smile. Now, they were even on the verge of laughter. Though annoying, Gendry was quite charismatic and got along well with her brothers, despite the fact that he was still a stranger. Any hesitance that Arya once felt about bringing Gendry and the others with her quickly evaporated after seeing the smiles on her brothers' faces. They seemed to be... happy. Perhaps happy wasn't the right word, but, for once, they were not miserable. Bringing the others along already proved to be a wise choice, yet there was still a nagging voice in the back of her head, which told her this was the worst decision she made. Arya quickly pushed the thought away and watched her two brothers amusement with the tall dark haired man.
With the rusty wheelchair beside Bran's obvious disfigured legs, it took an idiot not to figure out that he was crippled. Gendry must have now understood what Arya meant about her brother's condition, but he seemed to pay it no mind. He treated Bran no differently from Rickon. He did not give him any sympathetic glances nor did he ask him about his accident. He just continued chattering away about whatever story he was telling. Arya was thankful that Gendry did not treat her brother like he was broken. Bran hated when people belittled him because of his disability. Arya had been guilty of being one of those belittlers. She couldn't help it; it was a sisterly instinct. Deep down, she knew that Bran was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He certainly did not need to be coddled more than Rickon.
Arya remembered the first week after Bran's accident. People would constantly tell him he was lucky for surviving the fall but that did not settle well with Bran and he snapped.
"I'm lucky?" Bran asked. "No, you're lucky! You still have your legs. You didn't fall and you're not a bloody cripple like me!" Bran screamed at his sympathizers.
Mother had tried chastising him for his ungallant behaviour but she always felt guilty for doing so. Other than Bran, her mother had taken it the hardest when news came of her son's accident. Motherly love, some would call it. After a week of bed rest and constant coaxing, Bran had finally had enough. He didn't want to be a cripple and told the family that he would rather be dead. Mother had cried herself to sleep that night.
Gendry did not make Bran feel uncomfortable about his condition nor did he acknowledge it. He was one of the few people who treated him the same as anyone else and Arya was thankful for it. Perhaps he wasn't as stupid as she first thought.
Gendry must have sensed her staring at him. He turned his head and met her gaze. Arya's eyes widened in fear of getting caught and she quickly shifted her attention from Gendry to Yoren. He seemed to be organizing the food and supplies they had procured from the Walmart. Arya quickly ran to his side to help him. She saw him hunched over the food supply, clutching a variety of different dried pasta and a large bag of tomato flavoured powder.
"Pasta for dinner?" Arya asked him, while sitting down beside the large man.
"Aye. I don't know 'bout you, girl, but I'm too damn hungry and tired to be cookin', and pasta won't take us too long to make. What's wrong, girl? Don't like Italian food?"
Arya shook her head from side to side. She absolutely adored Italian food, not that this dried pasta could even compare to the cuisine. She hated the rich texture of other cuisines like Chinese or Indian. Italian food had certain simplicity to it. Unlike other cuisines, the food was not heavily coated with spices yet still carried a delicious palate of flavours. She missed her mother's home made lasagna, which she would coat heavily in thick tomato sauce, three-blend cheese and sausages. Just the thought of the lasagna had her mouth watering. She missed the taste of fresh tomatoes; the fake tomato powder paled in comparison but any tomatoes or tomato paste that existed now had rotted and long past their expiration date.
"Good," Yoren announced, grabbing two large bags of pasta and shoved it towards her. "We'll be eating this tonight."
Her eyes widened in shock. Two bags? Was he mad? Bran, Rickon and Arya would go through less than one bag a day, and Yoren was planning on using two entire ones, just for dinner? She voiced her concern about using too much too soon.
Yoren just scoffed at her. "Fuck rationing," he exclaimed. "I've been eating nothing but pig shit these past few days and I'm sick of it. What's the point of living if you ain't gonna live? If you want, you and your brothers can ration all you want but I'm eating myself sick tonight."
This was it, their first confrontation. Arya adored Yoren but she knew they would encounter several conflicts. It was clear to her that he was the leader of the group and the alpha, just like Arya had been. She had hoped when they were conflicted with a dilemma ,Yoren would easily succumb to Arya's will, since, after all, this was her so her rules should apply. However, Yoren did not seem to waver in this argument. He was intent on eating the entire two bags of pasta, whether Arya joined him or not.
"We have to ration!" Arya argued. "There aren't any farmers out there anymore. That means there will be no more food either. This could possibly be it. One day we're going to run out of food and there will be no more stores to hit up. When I went to the Freshco, their storage room was empty. Empty!" She repeated, emphasizing the word. "We can't run out of food, not now."
Yoren eyes narrowed and he seemed to grasp Arya's point, but that was not enough to sway him. "Look, kid, I get it, and I'm pretty sure one day we will be thankful for your rationing but today won't be that day. Just look at ya, girl- you're all skin and bones. You and your brothers need protein if ya expect to survive this war. Now shut yer trap and listen to an adult for once."
Arya frowned, although she had to agree with Yoren. Even before the war, Arya barely had any fat on her body and she ate a lot. She probably ate even more than her brothers. Robb would often tease her about it. She may have not had much fat then but she had plenty of muscle. Now, all her muscles were deteriorating and she was left with nothing but skin and bones; Bran and Rickon's situation was no better. Arya bit her bottom lip and eyed the elder man in front of her. She always bit her lip when she was anxious, and because of her bad habit, her lips had been severely chapped and cracked. She felt a faint sting on her lips as she massaged the area she just bit with her tongue. Perhaps Yoren was right. Food was a priority but health was even a bigger one. She no longer had any supplements or multivitamins so she had to ensure that she and her brothers were getting adequate nutrition through food sources. Arya sighed but still complied with Yoren's suggestion. Perhaps it was for the better.
Yoren and Arya were on opposite spectrums; he had a carefree attitude and liked to live in the moment. Arya was filled with paranoia and thought of nothing but the future. Perhaps the two could balance each other out like yin and yang.
Arya showed Yoren the 'stove' she and her brothers created. It wasn't much of a stove but they really did require a place to boil their water and cook their food, considering most of their food had consisted of raw or powdered products. The stove was merely a stack of sticks surrounded by a circle of rocks. Arya and her brothers constructed a small pole where they were able to hang an old pot to linger over a fire. Normally, Arya and her brothers created a fire by constructing a spark through the friction of two rocks. A couple of years of practicing made them experts in this skill but it still took about an hour before one of their sparks caught. Arya could no longer ignore the protests of her empty stomach, so rather than wait an hour and hope for a spark to light, she pulled out one of the few remaining matches and tossed it onto the pile of sticks. The flame caught instantly and Arya filled up the pot with clean water and waited for it to come to a steady boil.
Yoren was absolutely flabbergasted by the idea of a stove and praised Arya on her brilliance once more. He made a snide comment about being stuck with a group of idiots and Arya could not help but let out a snicker. She couldn't believe it; she was actually laughing. She could not remember the last time she laughed, let alone smiled and, like her brothers, for once in her life, Arya actually felt happy. Momentarily she let herself forget about the Walkers, the soreness consuming her body and their heinous living conditions and enjoyed her conversation with Yoren. He was very sarcastic and funny-but behind that, there was a brilliant mind to the scary looking man.
After the water finally came to a steady boil, Yoren dumped the entire contents of the two bags into the pot. One of the bags consisted of macaroni while the other was fettuccini, but neither Yoren nor Arya cared. They only had one stove and they were much too hungry to cook the dishes separately. When the time came to begin mixing spices, Hot Pie took over. Yoren mentioned that Hot Pie had a certain gift with cooking and assured her that she would not be disappointed. To be honest, Arya did not care much about who cooked the meal or how it tasted. All she wanted was something solid to suppress the cries and emptiness of her stomach.
Arya grabbed eight sets of cutlery, bowls and milk boxes from their preserves. She handed one to each member of the group as they waited for dinner to be served. Yoren accepted the cutlery and the bowl but passed on the milk. Instead, he grabbed a flask from his jacket and took a swig of the contents inside it. Dark, brown liquid spilled from the corner of his mouth and ran down his chin. He wiped the residue away with the back of his sleeve before passing the flask to Arya.
"Think you've deserved a drink for saving our sorry asses." Yoren commented.
Arya looked at the flask and crinkled her nose at the smell. She shook her head from side to side. Yoren just shrugged at her refusal and took another swig of the dark liquid. "I don't like the taste," Arya commented, even though he did not ask her why she refused his offer.
He began chuckling and shook his head from side to side. "You don't drink it for the taste," he said.
Arya had never understood the concept of alcohol. She wasn't a reserved teenager but she certainly wasn't into the lot that liked to party and do drugs. Arya was more mischievous; she pulled pranks and snuck into movies but she had never succumbed to the traditional teenage customs. Alcohol wasn't a part of her norm; she would have a glass of wine on special occasions but she never went out to drink like Robb and Jon used to. She was just about to ask Yoren why he drank liquor when Hot Pie announced it was dinner time.
Arya ensured her brothers had been served before she took the first bite of her new meal. As soon as the food touched her lips, she let out a moan of approval. Yoren and Gendry snickered at her reaction, while Hot Pie was simply elated.
"It's good, isn't it?" He confirmed.
Unwilling to part her lips from the delicious pasta, Arya just nodded while scooping more food into her mouth. It wasn't as good as her mother's lasagna but it was certainly better than anything she had eaten in the last three years.
"It would have been better if I had some real ingredients," Hot Pie continued. "But since I don't have any of that, I settled for what I had. The trick is to use only a pinch of garlic powder-"
"Shut yer yap and eat, boy," Yoren commanded.
The large boy seemed disappointed with Yoren's suggestion but quickly obliged. They all ate in silence, too busy consuming the delicious food to utter a word. Arya nearly died of happiness when she found out there was enough for seconds and thirds. After her meal was completed, she proceeded to lick her bowl clean.
The others did the same and once Lommy was done he let out a small burp. Yoren responded with his own belch, almost twice as loud as Lommy's. The men began laughing and Gendry praised Yoren on his talented and disgusting burping skills. Arya took this as a challenge and belched much louder than Yoren and Lommy. The burp echoed through the narrow space of the shed. Gendry, Yoren, Hot Pie and Lommy looked at her in disbelief while Bran and Rickon burst out in a fit of laughter.
Bran patted her back. "That's my sister," he announced proudly. Everyone else chimed in on the laughter.
After dinner was completed, everyone began getting ready for bed. Weasel had been the first to fall asleep. She curled into a little ball between Hot Pie and Lommy whom were now sleeping soundly as well. Yoren did not lie down like the rest. Instead, he propped himself into a sitting position, his back resting against the murky wall. If it wasn't for the rather loud snores, Arya would have thought he was still awake. Bran had also fallen asleep in his usual sleeping area. He was wrapped in one of the new blankets Arya had taken from the Walmart and his head lay on an old, doughnut shaped pillow– another possession Arya had stolen long ago.
That left Rickon, Gendry and Arya to clean up the dishes. Rickon's eyelids were getting heavy and she saw the struggle it took for him to stay awake. He tried stifling his yawns and attempted to hide his tiredness but Arya quickly noticed it. She grabbed the plate from his hands, momentarily waking Rickon from his sleep-like state.
"Sleep," Arya commanded.
Rickon was in no state to protest, so he simply nodded his head and made his way towards Bran. He wrapped his body in a thick woolen blanket and fell asleep almost instantaneously beside his brother.
She wasn't sure if watching Rickon's dreary form triggered her senses or if it was just pure exhaustion but Arya found her own eyelids growing heavy, and now it was her turn to stifle the yawns. She could not understand why her body betrayed her; she had slept only yesterday. She was aware that the human body required a minimum of eight hours of sleep per day, but ever since the pandemic began, she found herself sleeping less often. Perhaps it was the long and tiresome journey that made her so sleepy, or maybe it was simply all the sleep she eluded was now finally catching up to her. If they hadn't put out the fire, she might have brewed herself some coffee; she never liked the bitter drink but it left her feeling jittery and, more importantly, awake. She began fighting off her body's urge to sleep but it proved to be futile. She felt her body slumping and her vision grew blurry. Being the stubborn girl she was, Arya continued to fight off her body's natural urges until she felt the dish she was currently washing forced out of her hands.
Arya immediately jolted out of her sleep-withered form and her eyes widened when she saw that it was Gendry who had taken the dish. All the amusement was wiped off from his face and he gave her a rather serious and worrisome expression. "You should get some sleep," he commanded, "I'll finish with the dishes."
Arya had never been coddled before. Even when she was a child, she had been extremely independent. For the past three years, she was the one taking care of her two younger brothers and not the other way around. Arya was not accustomed to someone taking care of her, and she certainly wasn't comfortable leaving Gendry with all the dishes. Their journey had been quite tiresome and Gendry probably had less sleep than she did.
Arya reached for the dish in his hands but he raised it over his head so that she could not reach it unless if she stood up. Normally, she would have just grabbed the dish out of his hands and thwacked him on the back of his head but he wasn't teasing her like he normally did. His facial expression showed nothing but sincerity. It was strange. Did he actually care about her well-being? He couldn't have, he shouldn't have. Gendry was a mere stranger to her yet he was sacrificing his own sleep so she would get hers.
"You need your rest. I can finish up the rest of the dishes," he assured her.
"But don't you need your sleep, too? It will go faster if we cleaned them together." Arya argued.
Gendry just smiled and his shook his head. "I'm fine, Arya. Just go to sleep."
For the first time, Arya did not insult or hit Gendry; she listened to him. Unable to find the energy to walk, she crawled to the place where Bran and Rickon stored their old blanket. The blanket was dusty, ratty and filled with holes. She probably would have been more comfortable with the newer blankets they had procured from the Walmart but she preferred this one. The scent of her brothers still lingered onto the fabric and it brought her comfort. She wrapped the withered blanket over her frail form and scooted alongside her brothers.
She turned her head to look at Gendry, who continued washing the dishes. "Thank you," Arya whispered. She wasn't sure if he heard her, and she did not wait for a response, although she could have sworn that she saw him give a little nod of his head. As soon as Arya's head hit the floor, she fell into a deep slumber.
As soon as the pig skin landed in her small but firm hands, Arya broke into a run. The wind felt exhilarating as it brushed past her skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps on her arms from the chill. The hair tie, which kept her hair in a tight ponytail, has now come lose and her long brown locks tumbled past her shoulders, almost reaching her waist. The wind did nothing but distract Arya from her current mission. It only further tangled her already messy hair and sent her messy brown locks sprawling over her face, obstructing her vision.
Arya always hated long hair. She distinctly remembered a time when she was six. Arya had stolen a pair of scissors from her mother's drawer and cut off all her hair leaving it shorter than any of her brothers'. Once Catelyn had come home to her daughter and her now boy-short hair, she was furious; Arya was lectured, scolded and punished. She was restricted from taking part in any sports related activity for nearly a month and was forced to join her mother and Sansa in their weekly sewing lesson. At that time, Arya could not possibly understand why her mother was overreacting at something as simple as hair. It would grow back and it did in only a few short years. She was nine now and her hair was now once more back to its annoying length.
It wasn't fair. Robb, Jon and Bran were allowed to keep their hair short, why couldn't she? Her mother explained that girls were expected to have long hair, but that wasn't true. Robb's best friend's sister, Asha Greyjoy, had short hair, and so did one of her mother's employees, Brienne Tarth. So why couldn't Arya keep her hair short as well? It kept getting in her way and no amount of pins and clips could hold her hair in place. Her hair was much too thick and wild to tame. Her mother would spend hours detangling all her knots, wouldn't it be much easier just to keep her hair short?
Using her free hand, Arya brushed the bangs out of her eyes and continued running to her destination. She heard Theon and Robb grunting behind her but they were much too far away now. The sounds of Jon's cheers echoed along the vast field and they erupted into a loud victorious howl when Arya crossed the white line.
She had scored the winning touchdown and Arya had never felt more proud. A mere girl of nine outran two fifteen year olds. Arya may have been small but she was quick. Robb and Theon were both on their high school football them and yet she had outshone both of them.
Arya had always thought football players required some sort of physique like that of her brothers and Theon but it was only yesterday when her brother's football coach, Syrio Forel, commended her on her size. 'You are skinny,' he had said. 'That is good. The target is small. Once you are old enough to enroll into high school, come see me. We will see what we can do to get a girl to join the boy's football team. If that does not work, maybe we will cut off your hair and call you Arry, no?' Arya was delighted to be praised by a man as great as Syrio Forel and her current victory only added to her amusement.
The teams were stacked in their opponents favor. Robb, Theon and Bran versus Jon, Sam (Jon's stocky shy friend) and herself. Sam had contributed practically nothing to their team. A lawn gnome could have done a better job. Sam was no athlete; he winded easily and could not catch a football to save his life, but Jon and Arya made up for his lack of ability and were victorious in this game.
Jon threw Arya over his shoulder and continued to holler while Sam and Bran congratulated her victory, with large smiles plastered on their faces. Even though Bran's team had just lost, he could not help but bask in his sister's glory. Robb and Theon muttered curses as they got outran by a nine year old girl but soon their scowls turned to smiles and they all began celebrating Arya's glorious touchdown.
Arya's stomach began growling. She had been playing football with her brothers all morning and well into the afternoon. As if on cue, Sansa and her friend, Jeyne Poole, arrived in the backyard carrying trays of snacks. The smell of fresh pastries filled her nostrils and Arya began running to the tray of desserts. She almost tackled Sansa in the process as she grabbed two lemon cakes from the tray and began stuffing them into her mouth.
"Hey!" Sansa protested. "Those are for me too!" Lemon cakes were her mother's speciality and the Stark sisters would constantly fight over the delicious treat. There were only four lemon cakes on the tray and Arya was planning on saving half for Sansa, but her sister's patronizing attitude rubbed Arya the wrong way. Angrily, Arya snatched the other two lemon cakes and gave each a long and slobbery lick before placing them back on the tray.
Sansa's face turned almost as red as her hair and Arya had to bite down a chuckle. "Ew!" She screeched. "You are so disgusting!"
Arya gave her sister a satisfied smirk before snatching the remaining two lemon cakes and heading over to the gazebo. She plopped herself onto a comfy lawn chair and began devouring the treat. Arya was always a messy eater, so the crumbs easily broke away from the dessert, lodging themselves in between the cushions of the once clean lawn chair. Their nanny, Ms. Mordane, would probably scold her for creating such a ghastly mess but Arya did not care.
Her mother came to the backyard shortly after, carrying two large pitchers: one filled with raspberry lemonade and the other filled with peach juice. She wore a loose sundress, to accommodate for the swelling of her stomach. She was due for another child in less than a month but that had not stopped her mother from cooking and taking care of the family. Her father trailed behind her carrying a tray filled with several empty glasses and a large bowl of ice.
"Who's disgusting?" her mother inquired, while placing the two large pitchers in the centre of the table. Arya scoffed. Of course her mother would hear that. It did not matter if she was in the other room at her time; Catelyn Tully could always tell when one of her children were misbehaving. With a mother like her, it was shocking that Arya had gotten away with anything.
"Arya is." Sansa announced, ratting her sister out. "She stole all the lemon cakes and now she's making a mess."
Her mother made her way over to where Arya was sitting. She had a large wad of tissue paper in her hands and she licked the tip of the paper before wiping Arya's face with it. Her pressure was tremendous, and Arya felt that she was not only scrubbing off the filth from her face, but possibly two layers of skin as well. "Oh my, Arya, you're absolutely filthy. It's going to take me hours to wash all the mud off you." Her mother exclaimed.
It was Sansa's turn to shoot Arya a satisfied smirk. Arya scowled in her direction. She loved her sister but some days she could just strangle Sansa for being so blatantly annoying.
Her father easily picked up on the tension and quickly changed the subject. "So, how did the game go, boys?" He asked, dramatically changing the current atmosphere.
Arya was used to her father referring to her as 'one of the boys.' Unlike her mother and Sansa, he did not imply it as an insult but rather as an acknowledgement of her character. Arya was never a typical girl, in the conventional sense. She was not interested in playing with dolls but rather biting off their heads. Despite her mother's attempts to teach her daughters the art of sewing, Arya's stitches always came out crooked and messy. Arya preferred sports and dirt over wearing dresses and sipping tea with the ladies. Arya was only a girl because of her sex, but as far as gender roles went, Arya was definitely 'one of the boys.'
"It was amazing, father!" Arya answered, squealing with excitement. "I scored the winning touchdown!"
"Did you, now?" It was more of a comment than a question. Her mother flashed her father a look of disapproval. Arya was positive that once all the children had gone to bed, their mother would scold her father for encouraging Arya the way he did. Her father saw his mother's warning glance, but whether he did not interpret it as a sign of disapproval or simply ignored it, Arya did not know. "That's my little girl," he praised, as he mussed up her tangled hair with his hand. Arya always detested it when her brothers would muss up her hair but that was simply because they were teasing her. Her father was being completely sincere and Arya's heart filled with joy. 'Today would be a good day,' she thought.
The smell of freshly baked bread still filled her senses and the chorus of laughter rung in her ears as Arya, her family and their guests began eating the lovely pastries and drank the delicious cold beverages – both of which her mother made from scratch. Eventually the laughter slowly faded but the delicious aroma of bread still filled the air.
As the picture faded, reality finally dawned on her and Arya realised that her vision had been nothing but a dream of the past; a life that no longer existed.
She must have unconsciously shifted while she awoke, or perhaps it was the alteration in her breathing rhythm, but somehow, she had unintentionally signalled Gendry that she was now awake. "Good morning, sleepy head," he greeted.
Arya couldn't see him yet. Her eyes were still closed and the only visible object was the dull red colour of the back of her eyelids. Slowly, she fluttered her eyelids open and rubbed off the crust lodged in her eyes with her fist.
She nearly gasped when she realised the proximity between herself and the older man. His greeting had been merely a whisper so Arya assumed he had been on the other side of the shed but instead his body was positioned right beside hers. He was sitting upright, propped up against a wall. His shoulder brushed hers, as she quickly shifted into a sitting position as well. It didn't bother her that Gendry was so close although it did surprise her.
He gave her an apologetic look. Arya initially assumed that he was going to apologize for invading her personal space but that thought did not even cross his mind. "I'm sorry. I tried waking you earlier but, you were asleep like a log."
Arya frowned. She had always been a heavy sleeper and that was one of the many reasons why she felt so uncomfortable with sleeping outside the safety of her shed. With her luck, she would be ambushed by a pack of Walkers, have one of them bite her and undergo the painful transition of turning into a Walker, and she'd still sleep through it all.
Arya recalled one time, when she was eleven. Robb had just come home from a party he had snuck out of the house to attend. To make matters worse, he had come home drunk. He might have gotten away with sneaking off to the party without anyone knowing if it was not for the accident. The alcohol impaired his vision and mind set and he had crashed the car into the garage door. To make matters worse, Robb had just gotten his learners permit and the law stated that he was incapable of driving a car without a licensed driver in the passenger seat, a law he had obviously ignored.
The crash had apparently been deafening and the accident had woken the entire family and nearly half the neighbours. Within minutes of his accident, her parents came downstairs and began screaming at her brother for his negligence. Their yells had woken up the rest of the neighbours but Arya had slept through the whole thing. She did not even know about the ordeal until Jon told her when she woke up in the morning.
She had no idea how Gendry tried to rouse her but he could have kicked her in the ribs and she would still be asleep. There was one thing that did not make sense to her; why was he apologizing? "Why did you try to wake me?" Arya asked him, still trying to shake off the sleep and weariness from her body.
Gendry smiled at her. "Well, I thought you would have preferred a nice hot breakfast, but waking you proved to be a much more difficult task than I initially thought."
This snapped Arya wide awake. She was not sleepy in the slightest but she still had a couple of aftershocks from her long slumber. She was now fully alert once she realised the aroma had not been a figment of her imagination or an afterthought of her dream. It was real.
Arya whipped her head frantically around the shed, trying to pinpoint the location of the smell. Was that what she thought it was? Was that smell, bread? Arya assumed she would wake up to stale, dry cereal or a bowl of oatmeal but, this was a treat Arya thought she would never experience again.
Gendry got up and walked to the other side of the shed, only to return a moment later with a plate full of Ovaltine, a package of soy milk and...croissants. The croissants were deformed and their ridges were slightly burnt but there was no mistaking the delightful smell. She could not believe it. When did they get croissants and how did they possibly survive for three years? Along with dairy and meat, no bread products remained because they had long past their expiration date. Yet, here she was, with a plate full of bread.
Arya did not even have to ask the question. She just looked up at Gendry, her eyes wide with disbelief. Gendry smiled at her. "We had flour, water, salt and yeast. Apparently, that's all you really need to make bread. Hot Pie used to study the culinary arts before the pandemic. It's why we call him Hot Pie. The day we met him he had a bunch of delicious freshly baked pies with him, and when we asked him where he got it, he told us he made it. Unfortunately, we don't have an oven, just your little stove over there so the croissants did not turn out that good but they still tasted pretty darn delicious to me. Though they were hot then. Anyways, like I said, Hot Pie is actually an asset once you find out his hidden talent, and Lommy isn't all that bad either. You'll get used to the both of them soon enough."
Arya did not respond to his comment- she was too busy stuffing her face with food. She dipped the somewhat flaky bread into the Ovaltine powder and chewed thoroughly at the delicious concoction, savouring every taste. She heard a faint click followed by a dull sizzle. When she looked up she noticed Gendry had opened a can of Red Bull.
"Is that still good?" She inquired with her mouth still full of bread. Not that she was interested in the beverage, but because Arya rarely ran into any energy drinks that were not expired.
Gendry shrugged. "Expired a couple of months ago. It has a bit of a funky after taste but I miss Red Bull. Used to drink a case every day."
Arya frowned. "Isn't it bad to drink more than four a day?"
Gendry shrugged. "There are only four in a case. I drank it all the time and I turned out fine." He outstretched his hand so the can was now in her reaching distance. "Want some?"
Arya shook her head, recalling the familiarity of her conversation yesterday with Yoren. "I don't like the taste," she answered truthfully.
Gendry shrugged and emptied the can in a few more sips. Arya instead shifted her attention to the packet of soy milk and emptied its contents. With their large dinner yesterday and a generous portion of breakfast, for the first time in a long time Arya was actually full.
"That was so good," Arya praised as she stretched her sore muscles.
Gendry smiled. "It's a good thing I didn't wake you then. I insisted that you should enjoy a hot meal but Bran convinced me to let you sleep. Says you barely get enough rest these days."
Suddenly, Arya's mood dropped and she began to panic. She began frantically whipping her head from side to side and it took her only until now to realise that Gendry and herself were the only two people in the shed. How could she be so stupid? So completely unobservant that she would forget about her brothers. She sprang up from her sitting position and grabbed Gendry by the collar. She was surprised by her strength as she pushed him and his back slammed against the wall.
"Oi!" Gendry protested. Arya ignored his complaint.
"Where are they?" She screamed at him. "Where are my brothers?"
"Now take it easy there, kid. Why don't you just chill out-"
"WHERE ARE MY BROTHERS?" Arya was frustrated now. She glanced at the trapdoor and noticed the bindings were undone. What the hell happened while she was asleep?
Arya quickly bolted outside the door, leaving Gendry were he stood. She did not think to bring a weapon or further question Gendry concerning Bran and Rickon's whereabouts. All she could think about were her little brothers and the dangers she had put them in, by trusting Yoren, Gendry and the others.
The light momentarily blinded her but Arya did not freeze. She ran through the wilderness, allowing her ears to guide her. She heard Gendry shouting her name from the shed, but she did not go back for him. She darted around the field until she heard a faint sound of laughter coming from a nearby forest. She knew the area pretty well- there was a pond in the middle of forest. The water was not particularly dirty but Arya did not allow her brothers to drink from the lake before she boiled the water, ridding it of its microorganisms. As she ran deeper into the woods, the laughter grew louder. Once she passed the clearing she noticed Yoren, Hot Pie, Lommy, Bran, Rickon and Weasel in the pond. Arya felt her face flush and she had no doubt her cheeks were coloured a bright crimson. The men and Weasel were bathing in the pond and they were naked.
She had seen Bran and Rickon nude before and they had seen her nude as well, but this was different. Bran, Rickon and Arya had been secluded in a confined space due to their dire circumstances. She had never seen them nude prior to the pandemic but, either way Bran and Rickon were still family. Arya was not meant to see a nude person that was not part of her family, especially not men. Arya had never been one for modesty but there were certain customs that one must uphold. Immediately she turned her back to the group of men. "I'm sorry," she whispered in a weak voice.
To her surprise, the rest of the men did not seem to be embarrassed. "That's alright, girl," Yoren called from behind her. "Come on in, yer smelly arse could use a bath too."
Arya risked the glance back to Yoren's direction and looked at him stunned. What in the hell did he just suggest?
Yoren easily picked up on her discomfort and grabbed a towel to wrap around his waist, thankfully covering the body part dangling in between his legs. "Didn't mean it like that girl. We're all mature men here. Well... most of us are. It's the end of the world; who gives the fuck about modesty anymore?"
Arya was about to say that she does. It might sound stupid to a man like Yoren, but even though it was the end of the world, the little things like modesty meant a great deal to Arya.
Just as she was about to protest, a strong booming voice came behind her. "Oi! Plan on saving some of that water for the rest of us?" Gendry asked comically.
She turned to see Gendry striding to the pond. He had two towels and a pile of clothes draped over one arm and in the other he clutched his baseball bat. A thought just occurred to Arya. If he was here, then who was guarding the shed? She marched angrily towards him and punched him hard in the abdomen. The impact of the punch seemed to affect Arya more than it had Gendry. Her knuckles were screaming in agony but Gendry did not even wince.
"Oi! What was that for? I've known you for one day, and already I'm your punching dummy?" he exclaimed. Gendry did not seem to be angry in the slightest- if anything, he seemed to be amused.
Rage filled her once more. Not only did he have to be stupid, but he had to choose this time to tease her. "You idiot!" She exclaimed while she punched him again. "You stupid bull-headed idiot! You left the shed unlocked! What if a Walker-"
"Now who said I left the shed unlocked?" Gendry asked her.
"You did!" Arya protested. "No one else is in there. Who's supposed to secure the bindings and lock them in place? A Walker can come in and-"
"I did secure the bindings." Gendry interrupted once more. "But, I secured them from the outside."
Arya stared at him in disbelief. Lock the shed from the outside. Why hadn't that thought ever occurred to her before? Yoren seemed to agree on the brilliance as well. "Smart, boy. Maybe I was wrong when I mistook you for an idiot."
"Is that a compliment I hear, old man?" Gendry questioned, raising an eyebrow at Yoren.
Yoren grunted. "I said maybe. You've proven yourself to be an idiot more times than you've done something smart. Aye, so I suppose we're finished here." He then proceeded to dress and the rest of the pack followed his lead. Hot Pie helped Weasel with her clothes. She did not seem to mind being stark naked in front of these men, but then again, Weasel was a little girl. She did not have the certain womanly features Arya had. Though Arya was not as curvaceous as a normal woman, she was still a woman, and she felt uncomfortable with Yoren, Gendry, Hot Pie and Lommy seeing that side of her.
She helped Rickon dress and she helped Bran get into his wheelchair. The boys were freshly washed, and despite her anger and resentment towards Yoren and Gendry for not warning her about their plan, she did like the results. Her brothers' hair regained some of its luster and the dirt caked to their skin had now vanished. Proper hygiene would dramatically decrease their risk for developing a sickness; but, other than for medical purposes, she understood how important something simple as a bath could be. Both brothers' spirits were lifted, they had not been this clean in a long time. Unfortunately, hygiene was considered just a luxury not a necessity.
The rest of the pack cleared out, leaving Arya and Gendry alone at the pond. Yoren left them with an ample amount shampoo and soap, which they could use at their disposal. Gendry handed Arya a fresh towel and some clean clothes. He also handed her some clean undergarments and blushed like a maiden when he did so. It was strange; Gendry did not strike Arya as the type to embarrass easily.
"I'll erm... go back to the shed." Gendry announced. His charm had now been replaced by nervousness, which led to stuttering. He handed her his baseball bat and it nearly fell on her foot when he did so. The bat was much heavier than Arya anticipated but she held it firmly with two hands and raised it over her shoulder. Gendry raised an eyebrow at her. "You sure you can fight with that?" He asked her.
Arya was almost a hundred percent certain that she could not fight with the weapon. She struggled lifting the bat, let alone swinging it. But, there were other things in the forest Arya could armour herself with against the Walkers. A large branch, a heavy rock- the possibilities were endless. Plus, if anything got to out of hand, she still had the shotgun attached to her hip. "I'll be fine" she assured him.
"Good," Gendry retorted. "I won't be too far. Just holler if you need me, kid."
Arya punched him again but he merely mussed up her hair. She froze for a minute. She could sense the teasing behind Gendry's action, and for a brief moment, she could have sworn his eyes turned a stormy grey and his shaggy straight black hair turned into long brown curls. He muzzled her hair, just like Jon used to.
He then turned her back on her, depositing his clothes and towel on the ground. He would come back for them later, when it was his turn to wash up. Arya was thankful that he gave her privacy. Truthfully, she shouldn't have been ashamed. She was not a child even though Gendry certainly thought of herself as one. He would not be looking at her in that way. She would be just another Weasel to him. Despite the fact that it was the end of the world, the customs that her parents taught her to uphold strengthened her decision. After all, a boy was not supposed to see you naked before marriage. She was pretty sure none of her other siblings withheld that custom. Even the modest Sansa had given her maidenhood to that awful boyfriend of hers, Joffery. Though Arya knew she would never stumble across this problem. She was Arya Horseface or Arya Underfoot; who would want to see her naked anyways?
Once the coast was clear, Arya stripped off her dirty layers and tossed them into the lake. She began scrubbing the grime off her shirt first. She discarded her underwear and pants- they were far too soiled to salvage but she had only worn the shirt for a day. It will still caked in blood from her encounter with the Walkers, but she could easily remove a one day old bloodstain with a bit off scrubbing. She then proceeded to wash her bra. The bra was tattered with slits and holes distorting the fabric but Arya could not discard the undergarment like she had with the pants and underwear. Arya had a small chest; she was a fucking 28A for crying out loud. It was extremely difficult to find a bra her size prior to the pandemic, so it would be next to impossible now.
Once the clothes she salvaged were clean, Arya began to clean her body. She noted a razor by the stack near Gendry's items. She was sure he wouldn't mind if she borrowed it, and even if he did, he would never have to know. Arya rose from the pond. Immediately, the wind began to chill her body and she began shivering. She quickly strode to Gendry's pile of clothes, grabbed the razor and made her way back to the pond; where she submerged her body in the cool water.
After shaving away all the excess hair on her legs, underarms and private, she began lathering her body with soap. It took her a long time to get out all the dirt in between her fingernails and the layers of dirt off her skin. Eventually, Arya scrubbed herself until she was pink and raw. Not an ounce of filth remained on her body. Next, she lathered a generous amount of shampoo into her hair. She lathered, rinsed and repeated. And repeated once more. Large chunks of hair detached itself from her head but Arya did not care. Where once her hair was coarse and grimy, it was now clean. No longer would she have to itch her head due to improper hygiene, though she was certain the knots would return. It's not like she had much hair to worry over. In the middle of the pandemic, Arya sheared off most of her hair with her machete. It now almost reached her shoulders. Arya frowned- perhaps it was time for another haircut. Unluckily for her, she left the machete back in the shed. So perhaps the haircut could wait.
Arya hopped out of the pond and wrapped the large towel around her body and began drying herself off. She didn't think it could feel this good to be so clean. As she was drying herself off, she caught her reflection in the pond's water. Though her face was free of grime, it still wasn't a pleasant sight to look at. Her cheeks were hollow, there were dark circles under her eyes and there was an array of pimples on her chin. Frustrated, Arya popped the pimples, leaving a series of faint red dots in replacement of the pus.
Once she was dry, she looked at the clothes Gendry had brought for her and frowned. The shorts weren't so bad- dark blue jean shorts that were a tad bit too loose but still held together at the waist. The top however... He had given her a green wife beater with a big fat stupid acorn on the chest. Arya had never once cared for fashion- she bought clothes for comfort- but an acorn? Seriously? Grumbling Arya threw the shirt over her head. She sighed when the fabric touched her skin. Cotton. The shirt may have looked stupid but it sure felt nice on her now clean skin.
Arya began towel drying her hair when she heard a rustle of leaves behind her. Arya sighed- obviously with her luck, she'd run into a Walker just after she had cleaned up. Ignoring the bat, Arya took a large rock and began weighing it in her hand. Just one quick toss to the head and she'd kill the Walker. If she was lucky, no blood would spill on her fresh clothes.
She was just about to throw the rock when she saw Gendry come into the clearing. His eyes widened when he saw her. "I'm sorry; I thought you were done a while ago. I didn't mean to intrude."
Arya just shrugged. It's not like he came in when she was nude. "It's fine. I just finished. Your turn now."
She tossed the rock to the ground, where it landed with a dull thud. She then proceeded to pick up the baseball bat from the floor with two hands and passed it to Gendry. He began weighing the weapon in his right hand while Arya gathered her old shirt and bra. Gendry put the baseball bat down and eyed her oddly, his gaze eyeing her entire body from head to toe. What? Was something on her face? Why was he looking at her like that?
"You look different now. Like a proper little girl." Gendry commented, after settling his gaze on her face.
Arya scoffed. "I look like an oak tree, with this stupid acorn." Arya gestured at the large acorn print on her shirt. He was the idiot who picked out the wife beater. Why was he teasing her about it?
Gendry just smiled. "Nice though. A nice oak tree." He stepped closer and sniffed her, breathing in the aroma of the fresh strawberry scented shampoo. "You even smell nice for a change."
Arya scowled at him. It wasn't her fault that she smelled bad before. She didn't have time for stupid things like bathing; she was too busy taking care of her brothers. In fact, Gendry out of all people should understand- he smelled foul, as if he hadn't bathed for months. "You don't. You stink!" Arya exclaimed as she pushed him into the pond. To her surprise, he managed to tug on her arm right before he fell, pulling her down with him.
They fell into the water with a loud hectic splash. Her new clothes were now drenched, along with the towel she was still clutching. She gave Gendry a death glare but he just laughed at her and teasingly splashed her in the face with more water.
Arya angrily stormed out of the lake and marched back to the shed. She heard Gendry's laughter behind her but she didn't turn around to catch his satisfied smirk. "Stupid bull-headed bastard boy," Arya mumbled to herself as she made her way back to the shed.
A/N: Sorry about this chapter being a little too slow. I know there were no walkers Dx I wanted to include them but, when the chapter reached 10 000 words I thought I should just stop it right there. I'm sorry for the ending in this chapter too, it felt weird to end it like that but, I promise the next chapter will have a lot more walkers and a lot more action. Plus there will be quite a plot twist in chapter four ;) Okay not saying anymore.
thanks for reading :D