Chapter 6: Arya
"What happened to Hot Pie? The one you used to do semantics with?" Roslin was slurring her words ever so slightly.
They had already finished two bottles of wine, and were well into their third. The onion soup that Sansa had pulled together was mostly gone, and they had demolished the cheese.
"I dunno. He's not in my classes. I've lost track of him some," shrugged Arya.
"He was nice."
"Yeah. I suppose."
"And the creepy one who looked like she was addicted to heroin?"
"She's doing a term abroad in Braavos."
"Some people just don't stick around in your life," sighed Sansa. Her eyes were bright from alcohol, her face flushed. Arya couldn't help but think that Sansa would be a pretty drunk. "I was friends with Margaery Tyrell my first year here. She graduated and said she'd keep in touch and I haven't heard from her since. Can't be too upset though. And if I ever bump into her again, I will be most pleased and ask her out for tea."
"And I suppose that Arya does have plenty of males in her life. There are some truly delicious boys on that fencing team of yours." Roslin raised her glass. Arya made a face. She wouldn't go so far as to call them delicious, that was for sure. Roslin's grin turned wicked and Arya knew what she was going to say before she said it. "Of course, we know that Arya prefers her men less lithe and more built like a war hammer."
Arya rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink. The things she'd suffer through to make sure that Sansa talked. If this was going to turn into a discussion about boys, she might just kill something. Roslin probably.
Roslin always managed to bring things back to boys.
"That's probably a good thing. More lithe men for me." Sansa was leaning back in her chair.
Roslin cackled. "I am going to press this. What's Gendry like in bed? Is he big all over?"
"I am not going to answer that."
"That small?"
"No. Because these things are to make sure Sansa talks about her feelings, not to give up the dirt on my boyfriend's body. Which is delightful, I will have you know."
"I talk about my feelings plenty. If not earlier tonight when I divulged my great fear of brightly colored spandex, then twice a week with Dr. Hightower. And it's always fun to watch someone else squirm."
"I hate you," mumbled Arya. Sansa leaned over and kissed her cheek.
Arya began typing on her phone.
Arya Stark: Save me. Girls' night just turned on me. I should have foreseen this. Help help help.
"So. Is he big?"
Arya glared at Roslin.
"Have you gotten that far?" Roslin persisted.
Sansa interjected, "She might not have. He is her first boyfriend after all."
"I hate you both."
"Why is that?" Sansa pulled her Dr. Hightower voice on. "How does that make you feel, Arya?"
Arya's phone buzzed.
Gendry Waters: Am in seminar. I can come by when it's over if you still need extracting.
Arya Stark: They're asking me about your body. Thought you should know.
Gendry Waters: Please be grossly complimentary.
Arya Stark: Only if you rescue me.
Gendry Waters: Shall be along once Prof. Hill is done. I expect to hear grossly complimentary rumors about myself by Thursday.
Arya Stark: Do you give all the girls that kind of homework assignment?
Gendry Waters: I should consider it. It would do massive things for my ego, I'm sure.
"I wonder if she realizes she gets this big goofy grin on her face when she's texting him," stage-whispered Roslin.
"Probably not."
"Oh, shut up. You're both ridiculous. No, Gendry and I haven't 'gotten that far,' he's the opposite of small which seems logically proportional to the rest of his body, and I'm very happy with him. Happier than I am with either of you two at the moment."
"Happy how?" asked Sansa. Her tone was no longer teasing. If anything, it sounded wistful.
Arya looked at her.
Part of her wanted to roll her eyes and tell her to mind her own damn business. But instead she took a deep breath and considered for a moment.
"I dunno. It's nice to know that there's someone who cares about the dumb things in my life. It makes me feel special."
Sansa's smile was proud, but there was a tinge of something sad that Arya caught around the outer corners of her eyebrows. She pounced. "That's an empty smile, Sansa. What are you thinking?"
Sansa rolled her eyes.
"What do you think I'm thinking?" she replied.
"You tell me."
"It's funny to watch the two of you deflect from talking about your shit at each other. Really, it could be a spectator sport." Roslin killed the last bottle of wine and took a sip.
"I've…I've never felt special to anyone, all right? And I want that," sighed Sansa.
"Fair enough. I just wanted you to say it."
Sansa rolled her eyes. "Because I made you spit out your feelings about Gendry?"
"Yep."
Sansa glared at her for a moment, then began to laugh. She laughed so hard that she had to put her wine glass down for fear that she would end up spilling it everywhere.
"I can't tell if I think we're ridiculous or not," she gasped at last. "Antagonizing each other into spilling emotions."
"You're definitely ridiculous," commented Roslin, "but if it's any consolation, I wish my sisters antagonized me this way. They just antagonize me."
"Mum would be proud of our developments. That's what we used to do," said Arya.
"I seem to recall an incident with a phone call sometime last semester…" Roslin's voice was very dry.
Sansa laughed.
"That was regression. I think because I was on the phone with Jeyne Poole. Arya hates Jeyne."
"I don't hate Jeyne! I find her dull and insipid and not worth spending time with. She gets offended when I tell her so. I reserve hatred for greater evils."
"Like Joff?" suggested Sansa.
"Yep."
"Well, I'm glad to know you like my best friend slightly better than my evil ex."
"I'm glad you find that comforting. I would too."
Arya's phone buzzed.
Gendry Waters: Am on my way. Still need rescuing? Or has it passed and am I no longer wanted?
Arya Stark: Get over here, you moron.
Gendry Waters: Yes m'lady.
Arya Stark: Oh shut up.
When she looked up from her phone Sansa had turned the conversation towards Roslin.
"Without saying something that will make me unable to look either of them in the face again, who's better?"
"Between Robb and Edmure?"
"Yes."
Arya saw no way of this ending well and took as deep a swig of wine as she could.
Roslin took a deep breath and considered. "Robb was better in bed—"
"Well, now I'm not going to be able to look at him in the face," grumbled Arya.
"Oh, that was very little detail. I can go into more if you really want to squirm." Roslin's grin was evil.
"I will throw my wine in your face," retorted Arya, raising her glass threateningly.
"Robb was better in bed," repeated Roslin, turning back to Sansa, who was trying to keep a look of pain and disgust off her face, "but Edmure is better to me, I think. Maybe because he's not a student, but I feel like he makes more time for me than Robb did, and he listens better."
"Robb's also really bad at listening in general," sighed Sansa. "You should hear mum rant about it."
"And I figure, it's the better to me part that matters more. And besides, I can make him better in bed." She winked.
"Cheers," grinned Sansa, and she and Roslin clicked glasses.
All three of them sipped their wine. Then Arya blurted out the questions he knew she would regret.
"What makes one person better in bed than another?"
Sansa's eyebrows shot up, and Roslin giggled. Arya felt her face turning red. She really shouldn't have asked. She'd never hear the end of it now. Stupid alcohol.
"Arya, I do believe that is the first sex question you have ever asked ever!" exclaimed Roslin. "You're not a lost cause!"
"Oh shut up," growled Arya.
"Oh, you can't deny us this! Talking about sex is fun!" grinned Roslin.
"Indeed. I'm not having any right now, so let me live vicariously through sex advice, will you?" teased Sansa.
"I hate you both."
"Energy. Effort," suggested Sansa loudly, pulling them back to the original question.
"Reciprocation," declared Roslin.
Sansa made a noise of approval, though for a moment, her eyes were far away. Then she said, "Creativity. And being in love with them helps. Though I suppose it might just mean that you are a little more charitable towards them if they fuck it up."
Arya raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
"Well…sex with someone you love is infinitely better than sex with someone you don't love. Though sex with someone you don't love is still extremely fun, I must say."
Arya had never considered that. Maybe it was her mother's influence, or perhaps even Sansa's obsession with being in love, but she'd never fathomed having sex just for the fun of it. She'd always imagined that sex meant love.
She felt her lips tingling and wondered where Gendry was.
"Oh," Roslin was saying, "and being good with hands. Ooh! Look! She's blushing. Gendry's good with his hands, is he?"
Arya hadn't realized she was blushing, but it didn't surprise her. The way the pads of Gendry's fingers moved in little circles when he held her, the strong confidence in the way they held her ass, the memory of his thumbs on her nipples the other night…
"I bet he is. He actually works with his hands, doesn't he? In the garage," teased Sansa.
"Oh stop it," mumbled Arya.
"Someone's good in bed because they work well with you," Sansa steered the conversation back to its original course. She took a deep breath. "It took me a while to realize it, but Joffrey was horrible in bed because he didn't care about me and never made me feel like anything more than some dumb slut."
Roslin's eyebrows shot up, and she made a clucking sound. But Sansa sat defiantly, as if daring either of them to ask her more about it. Arya was stunned, watching her sister slowly take another sip of wine.
Then, Sansa's eyes began to twinkle. "That, and he could never last very long, could he?"
Arya let out a hoot of laughter, and Roslin raised her glass again.
"Let the bile out, Sansa! It's an important part of the healing process. Was he tiny? I bet he was."
"Depressingly enough, he was average sized. But he definitely thought that he was bigger."
"What did you have to compare it to?" demanded Arya suddenly.
Sansa began giggling.
"This is going to be a good story, isn't it?" The glee in Roslin's voice was positively sickening.
But Sansa couldn't respond. She was laughing too hard.
"You and Jeyne used to spy on the boys' locker rooms, didn't you," sighed Arya.
Sansa was nodding, still giggling.
Arya shook her head.
"That's a bit low, Sansa." Arya had many friends who changed in those locker rooms. None of them would have been too thrilled at the idea of her prettier older sister spying on them while they changed.
"It was a dare," she gasped at last. "Jeyne wanted to find out if Theon was really all he said he was. He wasn't."
Arya groaned. "I don't want to hear that!"
"He wasn't," repeated Sansa, "but after that, Jeyne and I would try and figure out how well the boys matched what they claimed to be. Most of them didn't. Some of them did though, which was always exciting."
Arya began knocking her head against the table.
"This," she said emphatically, "is why I don't like Jeyne Poole."
Sansa was laughing again, and there was a knock on the door. Arya's chair fell to the ground she stood up so quickly. It was funny how she felt much more drunk on her feet than she did sitting in the chair. Ahh well.
"Hello," she smiled, leaning against the door.
He bent to kiss her. Then pulled back, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pulled into a bizarre frown. "You are drunk, aren't you? You taste very much like wine."
Arya nodded.
"Good influence your housemates are. What would your mother say?" But he was smiling and he closed the door behind him as she sidled back towards the kitchen.
"Gendry!" exclaimed Sansa when he came into the kitchen.
"We were just talking about you and your handiwork," grinned Roslin.
Sansa burst out laughing.
"You are all pretty gone, aren't you?"
Arya was standing behind him and had the sudden urge to slip her hands around his waist. When she did, Sansa and Roslin began giggling again.
"I think I'm checking out," she said to them, poking her head around his torso. The laughter only increased. Then she tugged Gendry up the stairs towards her room, and privacy.