Gendry's wound held them at Riverun for four weeks. During that time, Arya gathered as much information as she could on where her brothers were rumored to be. She knew that the talk could be completely false, but it was a shot in the dark she was willing to take.

She'd agreed with Gendry that they'd seek out Rickon first. The last anyone had heard of him, he'd been on Skagos, which was geographically closer to them than beyond the Wall, where it was said Bran was. It had been one of the few things they'd been able to see eye to eye on.

They had argued heatedly about how many men to take with them. Gendry wanted a proper guard of three hundred men, but Arya wanted to move quickly and said twenty. In the end they'd compromised on fifty, after Arya had said she'd go with just him, appealing to the part of Gendry that couldn't tell her no, even when he really wanted to.

The day had arrived when Arya and Gendry would leave for Skagos. They'd handpicked the men coming with them, some from Gendry's banners, some from Arya's. The day before the rest of Gendry's forces had left, heading back to their lands.

In a way, Arya was surprised he'd been able to call his bannermen to march against her in the first place, until she'd seen him admist his men. They loved him.

"He's the finest man in Westeros," his captain had told her, before relaying a story about how Gendry had saved his daughter and wife from raiders. Every man Arya came in contact with had a similar story, although none as spectacular as Dunstin, Gendry's squire.

The boy had nearly been hanged for poaching a deer on Clegan's land. He had the noose around his neck and everything when Gendry and a handful of his men ambushed the Lannister banners. Dunstin still almost hung when the horse they'd sat him on spooked and took off. Gendry had cut the rope with an ax he'd taken off some big brute, dropping the boy and winning his eternal loyalty.

Arya had found herself staring at Gendry after she'd heard Dunstin's tale. What happened to the blacksmith who just wanted to keep his head down? Gendry caught her staring and smiled though he looked puzzled.

Arya felt thoughtful as they broke their fast at dawn and hadn't said much to the present company.

"Are you well," Gendry asked, bumping her elbow.

As if coming out of a trance she shook herself and looked blankly at him for a moment.

"Being a lord suits you." She said making Gendry's confusion grow. "I... what?"

"When I met you, I would have never believed you would lead a force of men to lay siege to my stronghold."

"You didn't think me capable, my lady?" He asked, and there was coolness to his voice that Arya noted. She'd offended him and she hadn't meant to.

"No. That's not it." She rushed on to explain, "At Harrenhal you wanted to stay and keep your head down. You didn't want to follow me out the gates. You were happy to just have a forge. That boy would have never become a lord."

"Oh," Gendry said understanding dawning in his expression. "Does that bother my lady?"

"Stop being formal with me." She huffed. He could almost here the implied 'Stupid' at the end of her sentence. "It doesn't bother me. It's just different."

"Good different? Bad different?"

"Good different," Arya said with a wicked smirk on her face, "I don't have to worry about taking care of you."

"All for the best. I mean look how you parleyed with me," Gendry said pointing at his side, where Arya knew there was still a nasty scar from when she'd cut him.

"When are you going to let it go," She whined and he smiled, "Never. I will always remind you that I took a sword to be close to you. We can just pretend the sword wasn't also wielded by you." She shoved him and he laughed.

Arya tried to keep her scowl but Gendry's smile was infectious and she returned it before looking away.

Arya took the reins from her young squire, Bayard. He gave her leg a not so gentle slap and she smirked at him. She'd picked him to be her squire mostly because he was too cunning not to be kept within sight. His poor mother had despaired of what to do with her wicked son until Arya had said she'd take him on.

She'd felt the anticipation of leaving gnawing at her stomach the whole morning and now that she was ahorse she was ready to take her freedom. She waited though, her horse dancing beneath her in its own excitement as Gendry got on his big black destrier.

Once everyone was mounted, they moved off through the gates and down the road. Even with only fifty men, the general company was plodding and slow. They'd had to bring two supply wagons, which Arya had balked at, for the exact reason that it would take longer. Now, Arya huffed in frustration, as her horse gave a whiney asking to be let go.

Gendry pulled his horse over to her side. "What's wrong, My Lady?" He asked, perfectly peaceful in the saddle now. Arya remembered when they'd ridden together before. He was no horsemen then, but it looked like he'd gotten better.

Arya didn't feel like answering, instead she let out a whooping war cry and let her horse have her head. The small fleet mare took to her heels, nearly flying down the road; dirt spraying up from her pounding hooves. Arya felt wonderful release as they rocketed forward. To look at them, horse and rider were one.

Arya's joy lasted for a couple miles and then she slowed. Somehow she'd expected Gendry to try to follow her, he almost always had before. But she saw him way off in the distance, riding at the head of their guard. She let her horse wander back and forth across the road, picking at the wayward grass, while the company slowly advanced towards them.

"Why didn't you follow me?"She asked petulantly, once Gendry neared her.

"Thought you wanted to be free of us," Gendry said sounding confused.

She shrugged. "You've gotten better at riding," she said, pointing to the easy way Gendry sat in the saddle, the reins in one hand as his horse picked it's way over the gravel.

"I've acquired a lot of skills while you were away," he said slyly.

"What pray-tell were they?"

"Swordplay, riding, dancing, courtly manners, kissing fair ladies," He said and Arya laughed.

"That's quite a list, My Lord. You'll have to show me." Her cheeks turned pink, as she realized what she'd said, but she didn't take it back.

"Is your water dancing a match for real dancing?" He teased.

"You just make sure those big feet don't step on mine," she quipped.

"Do not worry, My Lady, no one has died yet." At that moment, Arya's head of guard, rode up to the two, who had gotten ahead of the rest of the band.

"My lord. My lady," he said nodding his head as if bowing. "I'd like to take the first scouts out. We'll want to make sure nothing unpleasant is in our way."

Arya turned to him and she smiled. "You don't have to be formal with me, Audric. You've been in my company for far too long for that. I agree. Send the scouts. I don't want to take any chances. Four men should be sufficient. Oh and make sure Bayard doesn't try to sneak off with them."

Audric laughed. "That boy is trouble, Arya. I told you from the start."

"But he is usefully wicked," Arya agreed touching Audrics arm in passing.

Gendry didn't like it. Especially when Audric whispered something to Arya and she giggled like a small girl, a sound he'd never heard from her before. He sized up the other man. He knew he was only a knight, but so had Gendry been.

Audric looked to be a few years older than Arya and he had reddish brown hair that curled at the ends just above his neck. It made him look younger than he was. His too-light blue eyes flashed once at Gendry before he road away.

"Don't let Maude know that!" Arya said to Audric's back as he road off.

Gendry wanted to be put out, but Arya rode closer to him reached out to touch the hilt of his sword, brushing her hand over his. "Did you forge this?"

"Aye. Afore I rode off to Kings Landing."

"What's Tommen like now? I only knew him as a chubby little boy."

"He's kindly and much smarter than anyone gives him credit for. I was surprised when I met him. He's still a little chubby though."

"You do realize that if we were to marry, we would control a large portion of Westeros. Did you tell Tommen of your plans? I can't imagine he would like that."

Gendry's cheeks reddened. Aryra knew immediately that he had told Tommen and she had a feeling he'd been a moony sot about it. "I might have mentioned it."

"What did he say?" She was truly curious. She'd lived too long with the "kill or be killed mentality" of Westeros. She couldn't understand Tommen not feeling threatened or wanting to crush any opposition, even imagined position.

"He trusts my judgement and knows I would never try to take his throne." Gendry said and Arya frowned.

"How could he know that?"

"Because I didn't when I could have. I don't want to rule Westeros."

"Why would you rule Westeros?" He heard the incredulity in her tone.

"My father was King Robert Baratheon. When I said Tommen gave me Storm's End, he really just restored to me my family's lands." He explained.

Arya's eyebrows disappeared under her hair, as her eyes widened. She hadn't known. This whole time and he hadn't thought that was important.

"When did you find out? How?" She choked out.

"That's a lot of questions, My Lady," he began. " I found out a while after you left. Tommen knew, I don't know how, but when I made it to King's Landing he asked if I was there to take the Iron Throne. I laughed at him. 'No, Your Grace. I planned to help you keep it.' I told him. I'm sure he didn't really believe me. Not until I helped bring peace to Kings Landing and helped with the small folk. Afterwards, he again asked me if I wanted to be king and I told him I wanted to retire to my own lands and find my lost lady.

That's when he gave me Storm's End, legitimized my name making me a lord and wished me luck. I'm assuming he hoped my loyalty would help bring you back into an alliance with him."

Gendry had expected her to not take that well. He knew how much love Arya had for the Lannisters but he saw her shrugging. "You're not angry?"

"Tommen was a child when the Lannisters ruined my family. He didn't have anything to do with it and I am so tired of bloodshed. Sometimes I feel as if I've lived a hundred years and then I have to remember it's only been nine and ten."

"My Lady, speaks as if she knows my mind."

Her eyes snapped to his. "Gendry, someday I will tell you all and you'll know."

She moved off then, moving down the line of men to talk to some of her guard. Gendry sighed, there was a wall between them that he resented. It used to be so easy between them, but then again they'd been living through the same horrors.

They traveled two leagues before Arya finally decided they could make she lightly hopped off her horse, Bayard hurried forward to take the reins.

"Make sure to rub her down," Arya called to him as he led the horse off.

The squire turned and insolently said, "When have I not?" He stuck his tongue out at her and hurried off with the horse in tow.

Gendry's eyebrows had raised in surprise. "Shut your mouth, Bayard, or I won't continue teaching you to throw daggers," Arya shouted at his retreating back.

"He's a handful," Gendry commented as Dunstin quietly lead his own horse away to feed and water it.

"He's like me as a child you mean?" Arya said ruefully.

Gednry had forgotten how blunt she could be and sometimes it stung, but he far preferred it to the lying words of the ladies he had become used to dealing with. He called it doublespeak; saying something and meaning something else. Tommen had said he would get used to it, but he never had.

"Aye, you were a wilding," he said. earning a smile.

"You poor thing. Saddled with a fat cook and a wild girl. How did you survive til now?" She teased, falling into the happy mood she often found herself drifting into when she spoke to Gendry.

"Just barely."

"Ain't that the truth of it," Arya laughed as they walked to the fire that one of the men had started.

It had become routine for Gendry, to have others do some of the labor, but Arya looked uncomfortable as he men rushed to put up her sleeping tent and she was handed a wooden trencher with salted beef on it. Arya was a doer, he knew, so being waited on drove her crazy. He, on the other hand, highly enjoyed not having to cook his own food, because he was not good at it.

They didn't talk as they ate. The woods seemed eerily quiet and grey clouds had moved in above them.

"It's going to rain," Arya said.

"Thank the gods for a waterskin tent," he said, glancing towards where his tent had been set up next to what appeared to be a pile of leaves. "Is that your tent?"

"Aye. I sewed it myself," she admitted, her cheeks turning pink.

Now Gendry looked dubious. "You sewed it?"

"Don't look too surprised. When I arrived from Braavos they didn't believe I was Arya Stark at first. What with the impostor in Winterfell and such. They held me as a captive for a few weeks while they tried to locate someone to vouch for me. I had a lot of time so I made that tent. Just don't look too closely at the stitching. They aren't pretty, but they work."

Gendry couldn't imagine this Arya being captive, but he guessed she'd had no choice if she wanted to be recognized as herself.

"Why's it look like leaves?"

She smiled brightly, clearly proud of her own ingenuity. "It's to hide among the greens. See how it hardly looks like a tent is there? Jon sent me a letter when he was on the wall about the wildling clothes. They make them so they can blend into the rock and snow. So I tried it with my tent. I even made a cover for it when we go North."

"You really are clever."

"Thank you. It's also has a raised platform inside. I built that as well."

"Why?"

"So that I'm not walking through puddles when it rains."

He looked at his own tent as the first fat drops of rain landed on his head. "I should have had you make me a tent."

"You'll be find, My Lord," she said with a mischievous smile. She slowly stood, handing the trencher to the man that had been waiting behind them to clear away the dishes.

"Sleep well, Gendry," she said before marching off to her tent.

Gendry was grateful that she had worn soft deerskin breeches instead of the grey gown he'd seen her in many times in Riverun. The breeches showed off her lithe muscular legs and if he was honest her rounded rounded rump as well. He'd never stopped wishing for her back and now that she was near the feelings he had were almost overwhelming. It was like he'd been starving in the Red Waste. All he wanted to do was drink her in.

When the thunder started, so did the howling. Gendry had grown used to the sound; there were wolves all over the Riverlands and the North. He rolled over restlessly in his furs and drifted back to sleep. Shortly after, he was awoken by a small cold hand on his arm. He grasped the wrist tightly, twisting it to try and break the grip as instinct took over while his sleep addled head tried to catch up.

"Ow," he heard Arya huff as she tried pulling her arm way.

Confused, but more awake, Gendry released her wrist. "What are you doing?" He whispered. Dunstin slept in his tent on the other side of a heavy wooden screen and Gendry didn't want the squire to know a woman was in his tent. Gendry felt his pulse racing and it was just from being awakened so suddenly.

He couldn't see her face, just her form as she perched on the side of his cot. "I can't sleep," she said quietly with an edge to her voice. It made Gendry realize she was scared. Her voice always got tight when she was younger when she'd seen people being tortured in Harrenhal.

"I had a nightmare about when I was blind." Gendry felt lost. 'When she had been blind? What in the seven hells-' he thought. But he didn't say anything, instead he lifted his furs to let her in.

She immediately burrowed into his side, warming him in a way the furs hadn't.

"Tell me about your nightmare," he murmured into her hair, wide awake now that she was there.

"I angered the Faceless Men by taking a life that wasn't mine to take. They punished me by taking my sight."

Gendry was taken aback, but he continued to quietly listen to her whispered story.

"I dreamed I was back in a brother and I couldn't see who was touching me." Gendry shuddered and Arya squeezed him tighter.

"I didn't whore in the brothel, but I did gather whispers there for the Faceless Men. No one ever touched me, but there were some near misses.

"I can't imagine," he said into her ear.

"Then don't. It's my own sorrow. But it was the wolves that drove me here."

"The wolves? But you're a wolf girl."

"Except I don't have a wolf anymore. I don't like when they're agitated. It puts me on edge and makes me worry about Bran and Rickon."

That made no sense to Gendry and he came close to calling her My Lady then, but caught himself. He couldn't do that when it was just the two of them; her wrapped in his arms whispering her darkest secrets.

"Arya, we'll find them. I promise," he said in a gruff whisper. "Close your eyes. You're safe with me."

She never did what he said, but for this one time, she threw her leg over his and ducked her head so that her face was nestled into his chest. Gendry thought he'd lie away, mulling over what Arya had told him, but as soon as Arya's breathing slowed, he felt his eyelids droop. 'It felt so peaceful to just be there with her', was his last thought has sleep overtook him.