A/N: The only author's notes that I have on this one is that Joe Dempsie is beautiful…that is all…

"Arya."

It was the quietest of whispers, but Arya picked her head up. She looked over at Gendry, his face inches from her own. His arm was protectively around her, holding her tightly to him. His blue eyes were hidden by his closed eyelids. He was sound asleep, his breath even. He had whispered her name in his sleep.

She watched his chest rise and fall, a sign of life pouring in and out of him. His strong arms felt warm around her. Had she ever felt this protected? From the moment they had left King's Landing together, Gendry had not left her side for more than a few minutes. It was hard to think of a time where he was not there. Somehow, over the course of this whole nightmare, Gendry had become a permanent fixture in her life. Would that change one day? As soon as the thought entered her mind, she felt her stomach tense.

Arya scooted closer to him, until she was staring down at him. This had been the first time she was able to really look at him. Before this moment, before she heard her name whispered from his lips, she didn't have cause to watch him. His thick hair was growing. She wondered when the last time he had it cut was. It was the perfect deep shade of black. His bangs hung low, almost touching closed eyelids. Arya slowly reached over, brushing the strands back as softly as she could. The moment Gendry moved, Arya stilled. He moved his head a little, grunting softly.

She couldn't help but softly smile. Drinking in his defined cheekbones and the perfection of his skin, she realized just how handsome Gendry was. She had never had time for such thoughts. There had never been anyone for her to watch like she was watching Gendry. Sure, she had watched her father, Rob and Jon. All three men were quite handsome in her opinion, but they didn't count. No one outside of her family had ever held her attention. There was the butcher's son, the one the Hound had killed, but he was a friend, a playmate. Her heart squeezed at the thought of that poor boy. She blamed herself just as much as she blamed Joffrey. The boy was dead because of her.

Arya sighed deeply. That time seemed a world away now. Had it been less than a year when she had left Wenterfell? Had it been less than a year since she had seen her family…or Nymeria? At the thought of her direwolf, Arya looked into the darkened forest.

"Where are you?" she whispered.

It took all of her strength not to rise from the cold ground and go in search for Nymeria. Had the direwolf really been that close to her? Arya chuckled, thinking of how Gendry and Nymeria had finally met. She had told him so much about the direwolf. Nymeria, Arya knew, would never hurt Gendry if it was true about what they said of Starks and their direwolves. If she and Nymeria were linked, Gendry would mean a great deal to the direwolf.

She felt a pang of sadness touch her, wondering where Nymeria was right now. She wondered why the direwolf did not come to her. The last time they had seen each other filled her mind, and Arya felt like crying. She had shunned Nymeria, throwing rocks and whatever else she could find at the poor direwolf. Though she was trying to save her life, had Nymeria understood that? Or had she felt betrayed.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered to the dark. "I'm so very sorry."

"Arya?"

This time, when Gendry called her name it was filled with awareness. She turned her eyes back to him, looking down where he lay. His eyes were watching her, clear and awake. "You okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded her head, lowering her head back on his shoulder. His arms squeezed her tightly for a moment. "Want to talk about it?

"Just thinking about Nymeria. I wish she would come and get us out of this mess," Arya whispered.

"No, Arya. No you don't."

She raised her face to look at him, her eyes staring in disbelief. "What? You'd rather be kept in this hell?" she hissed.

Gendry shook his head no. "What do they say about Starks, Arya? What have you told me is your family's sigil?"

"Direwolf."

"Exactly. So what do you think these men are going to think when a direwolf walks into their camp and straight towards her, protecting you, defending you? There will be no question in their minds of who you are, Arya. With so many soldiers, so many swords, they will slaughter Nymeria. Your secrets will be revealed to all," Gendry whispered.

"Nymeria could take on a dozen men, easily!" Arya shot back, anger rising in her.

"But there are two dozen men present. Arya, I want to believe that she could get us out of this, but the chances of her being killed or hurt are too great."

"You really saw her?" Arya asked softly. The tears began to well up insider her throat. Gendry nodded his head. "How…how did she look?" Her voice was as soft as Weasel's.

"You would be proud of her, Arya." She smiled then, believing his words. "She will come to you in her own time, I truly believe that. When you need her the most, she will be there. Right now, she knows you have me, so…"

Yes, Nymeria would come to her when the time was right. Right now, she belonged to the forest, until the day Arya reached out to her. That thought made Arya feel hopeful. "We will meet again," she whispered to the darkness. Somewhere, far away, she could have sworn she heard a howl.

She felt Gendry reach his hand up to her face and brush back the bangs that fell in her eyes, exactly how she had done to him earlier. Slowly, she looked back down at him, staring into his eyes. Again, she felt a weird sensation in the pit of her stomach. The silence stretched on between them. Arya had the sudden urge to run her fingers over his lips, just to feel the moisture of them again. Gendry's knuckles caressed Arya's cheek as gently as a feather, until he settled his hand underneath her ear, holding her face softly. He pulled her slowly towards him as he brought his face up to meet hers. He didn't have any water this time, so it could only mean he meant to truly kiss her. Did she want him to? Did she want to be kissed at all? The art of kissing had never been important to her. She had never given it any thought, but now that it was close at hand she found it turned her insides to jelly. Yes, yes she wanted Gendry to kiss her.

Their lips were inches apart. She could feel his breath on her face. See his white teeth gleaming in the moonlight from his slightly opened lips. His eyes never left hers. His thumb caressed her cheek, sending goose bumps up and down her arm. The sensation he was giving her, just by a single touch, was something she had not ever expected to feel.

"May I kiss you, milady?" Gendry asked, his lips twitching in a small smile.

Never had that name touched her as deeply as it did in that moment. "Yes," she whispered.

His lips were almost to hers, their noses almost touching. Her heart rate sped up, filling her body with hot, searing blood. She wasn't sure what to do with her hands, so she kept them on the ground, biting her lip at the last second. Suddenly, she felt unsure of herself. If he had asked to duel her, she would have risen to the occasion. If he would have asked her to race him to see who the better runner was, she would have gladly accepted. If he would have asked her to follow him to the ends of the world, she would have done it without thought. This, this was something that felt foreign to her. But she realized that it did not matter, because Gendry was the one wanting to kiss her.

"Get up! Everyone on your feet, now!" boomed a soldier's voice.

Both Arya and Gendry jerked their heads around, looking to see what was going on. The group of slaves began to rise to their feet. Their moment was lost completely and fear overtook them again. Arya cursed the world for reminding her that she was not free, that she was caged. The good always fades in the end, she thought.

"The women step forward! Now!" bellowed the soldier again.

Gendry grabbed Arya's arm, holding her still. The light, giddy feeling drained from her body. What were those monsters up to now? "Move!" the soldier yelled in Arya's face. When she still did not move, he grabbed her hair, ignoring Gendry completely. She was shoved forward, staggering, but she regained her balance. Something small bumped in to her, and Arya turned to see that it was Weasel. The girl's wide eyes were looking around in fear. She clung to Arya's leg, her body shaking. Gendry and Hot Pie were standing directly in front of them. They looked on helplessly, angrily.

"No…no…no…hmm, no…" three soldiers walked between the two groups. One of them was pointing towards different women, shaking his head. Arya knew what they were doing, and it made her nauseated. When the soldiers came to stop before her, Arya averted her eyes. She stared at Gendry's dirty shoes. "Just keep him in sight, Arya, just keep him in sight," she thought.

"Her," said a low, deep voice.

When Arya looked up, a finger was pointed at her stomach. She swallowed hard, wondering how in the world she would get out of this. The first time she was in this situation, she had prayed. Would the gods hear her again? Gendry moved to attack, but the soldiers had been expecting that, and they were on him in a second. This time, it took four soldiers to subdue him.

Arya steeled her nerves as the soldier walked towards her. She refused to look away, refused to cower before him. If they wanted her, she would give them a damn hard time. The soldier grabbed her arms, jerking her towards him. The moment she had her chance, she would destroy him. But what happened next caused a fear within her so strong. The soldier pushed her out of the way. She landed on her side, her hip crying out in pain. When she jerked her head back, she watched in horror as he walked slowly towards Weasel. He had not been pointing at her…but behind her.

"No!" Arya moaned.

Weasel's terror-filled eyes looked from her, to Gendry, to Hot Pie. She staggered backwards as the soldier reached out his hand to grab her. There was no thinking involved in what Arya did next. She just acted.

Raising her foot, she sent it with all the force she could muster towards the soldier's leg. The sound of the bone cracking echoed in her ear, and filled her with a power she had never known. Stunned, the soldiers were that they did not move to help their fellow soldier. They watched with wide-eyes, not believing that one of their slaves had struck a soldier. It was all the time Arya needed to pounce on the man as he lay on the ground in pain. His helmet had flown off with the impact his body had made. She thought that was a good place to start.

She felt pain in her hand the moment her fist hit flesh, but it only filled her with more power. One after the other, she began pounding into the soldier, his cries for help growing. To Arya, he was nothing but a craven. Even when she was grabbed from behind, her arms kept swinging.

They hoisted her up, as another soldier slapped her hard across the face. Blood pooled in her mouth instantly. She could not feel the anger or rage any longer. Then, another slap came…and another. They jerked her forward, leading her away from Gendry. She could hear the fight going on behind her, but they held her around the neck, so she couldn't move an inch. Arya knew she was in serious trouble. She remembered the girl and her mother, remembered the gruesome way they died. Would she meet the same fate now that she had defied them?

When they came to a stop, the leader was standing in front of her, watching her with a face she could not read. He did not look angry, nor did he look particularly welcoming. Now, her idea of attacking one of the soldiers didn't seem like the wisest decision.

"I admire your courage, young giant, though it was rather stupid what you did," the leader said. A smile grew on his face, the first sign of any emotion. "I shall not kill her, though it is what she deserves. Her strength has saved her on this night." Arya would have been lying if she said she didn't feel relieved, though his next words had her thanks stuck in her throat. "However, one does not simply attack one of my soldiers without retribution. Bring the boy."

Arya turned to where the leader was looking and watched them grab Gendry roughly by the shirt, pushing him forward. He fell to the ground, but the soldiers were there, bringing him to his feet and throwing him forward.

"Take the small girl and do with her as you please," the leader said.

They grabbed Weasel as she screamed for Hot Pie. The boy could do nothing but watch them take her into the darkness. Two soldiers stood on either side of him, holding him in place. He had no choice but to remain where he stood. He did not have courage like Gendry to fight back.

Gendry fell at Arya's feet, grunting in pain. How much more could he take? They had beaten him, spilling his blood for days. Still, he got slowly to his feet, his face determined.

"Since you enjoy a good fight, little giant, I will give you another. You hurt my soldier, I hurt one of yours. You and this boy seemed to be tied to the hip." Arya turned to look at the leader, wondering where he was going with this. "Untie her hands," he commanded. The soldiers did as they were told without question. Her wrists felt funny without the weight upon them.

A whip was sat in her hands and she let it slip through her fingers, pulling away from the object as if it were a live snake. "Pick. It. Up," the leader said softly. Arya looked at Gendry, his eyes showing what she already knew to be true. Oh gods, no, she wanted to scream! She lowered herself slowly to the ground, not breaking eye contact. She felt for the whip. As soon as her hands came across it, she wanted to recoil again. She fought through it.

"Hit him," the leader whispered.

"No!" Arya said mortified.

"You will either hit him, or we will do it for you. I can assure you, he will not live long if we are the ones to do it!" the leader spat.

She jerked back to look at Gendry, her face crumbling in agony. His face never faltered, never lost its determination. She could see his strength. It was so like Gendry to remain strong for them both. "Do it," he said softly.

"No!" she cried.

"Rothe, draw your sword and cut this bastard's head off," the leader called.

The moment Rothe moved, Arya uncoiled the whip screaming, "Okay, okay, I'll do it!"

Rothe looked at the leader and stopped when he saw the man nod his head. They turned Gendry around, his back turned to Arya. One of the soldiers drew his sword, and for a moment Arya thought they would kill him anyway. Instead, he took the blade and began cutting his shirt. The fabric tore easily, until pale skin was showing. Arya could see his muscles flexing, waiting, for what was to come.

"You will not stop, unless I tell you to stop. If I tell you to hit harder, you will do just that! If I am not satisfied, I will have him killed." Arya closed her eyes, her hands shaking uncontrollably. "Begin," the leader said.

She picked the whip up and sent it flying towards Gendry's naked back. It hit its mark, but it was easy to see the slap was half-hearted. The whip dropped back to her side as the first sign of tears flooded her eyes.

"Harder!" the leader demanded.

She picked the whip back up, sending it reeling towards Gendry again. This time, he lurched forward into the arms of a waiting soldier. She heard his loud groan and it pierced her heart.

"Harder!" the leader screamed.

"I'm so sorry!" Arya cried.

Her arm came back, the whip ready and in position, and she sent it crashing down upon Gendry's back as hard as she could. He lurched forward again, this time his groan was louder.

"Yes, yes just like that. Keep going, small giant."

A list of names began to grow in her mind. This list comprised of people that Arya would make sure died a slow, painful death. With each blow Gendry took, her list grew. With each name there was a face, with each face there was hatred. With the rising of Gendry's gasps and groans, Arya allowed the hate to fill her. It was the only way she could have gotten through what they were making her do. It was the only way she could look at the bloody back in front of her and send the whip whistling towards it.

The people watching were crying and gasping right along with Gendry. She even began to feel hot, searing tears pour down her cheeks. It was the first time she had cried since she could remember. When Gendry fell to his knees, the soldiers were there to pick him right back up.

After what seemed like the hundredth hit, the leader stopped her. "If you ever attack one of my soldiers again, I will kill you and your gutter rat friends! This was your only warning, small giant," he whispered in her ear. The whip was taken from her shaking hands, and the chains were put back in place.

They escorted her and Gendry back to Hot Pie. Arya did not know how he was still on his feet, but he pressed on, never faltering. His back was bleeding from the welts. For the first time in her life, she thanked the gods she was a girl. If it would have been a man to beat him, Gendry would have been unable to move afterwards.

When they were seated again, Arya moved hesitantly towards Gendry. Did he hate her now? She had caused this, just as she had caused the butcher's boy's death. Her hand reached out to him, but she stopped as he looked up at her. Tears were streaming down his dirty face, pain shown from his eyes.

"Gendry, please…" she began, but he stopped her. "You and me," he whispered.

She crumbled then, crumbled in relief and horror and devastation. She reached out, grabbing his face in her hands and laying her forehead upon his. She had just beaten him to a bloody pulp, yet he was still the same old Gendry…her Gendry.

Arya felt a hand touch her arm and both her and Gendry turned to look. Sitting beside Hot Pie was Weasel. Though she looked terrified, she looked unharmed. Arya looked to Hot Pie for answers. "They brought her back while you were…they said she was too young, no fun in it. They took someone else." She reached her hand out to the young girl, who had somehow wormed her way into Arya's cold heart. Weasel took it, smiling faintly.

For the rest of the night, Arya cleaned the welts on Gendry's back. One of the soldiers had brought her fabrics dripping with clean water. He looked at her without a word, nodding his head. She took them without thanks. She would never thank these monsters for anything.

The next day, they journeyed forward. Arya watched Gendry out of the corner of her eye, waiting to catch him if he needed her to. But he never did. Something loomed before them, but it was Hot Pie who spoke their question.

"What is that?" he asked low.

Arya stared at the structures before them, both hideous and fascinating all at once.

"Harrenhall," Gendry replied.

A/N: Really people, really? You thought it was just going to be that easy to get a kiss from these two? I think not! *Dr. Evil laugh* No, really, be patient, cause patience is a virtue and will be greatly rewarded! Now, get those reviews coming, so I can stop feeling bad for beating Gendry!