A/N: Hello everyone.
Sorry this has taken me so long to update. I wanted to originally release this at x-mas but you guys can see that didn't work out. Then I wanted to release this on new years but again that didn't work out. So now I decided to release it as an early, happy GOT season 3 present.
Before you read this chapter, I would first like to give out a big shout out to everyone who has read, reviewed, liked and favourited this story. It means a lot to me that you guys like it and even if you haven't liked/reviewed the story, I can see the number of hits on AO3 and and I truly apperciate how many people have taken the time to read this.
I have taken to PM'ing people on , even though I find responding on AO3 a bit easier. I just want to say that I listen to everyone's feedback and am so gracious when you guys take the time to comment. Love all of you! *hugs*
I wish I could somehow respond to anon postings on though, it sucks that I can't answer people questions.
I would like to give a very special shout out to three different people.
First, as always. Thank you to leapylion3 for editing this story. Without her, this fanfiction would truly be a mess because my English is a bismal.
Secondly, I would like to thank mevsmine, who made a beautiful fanart of this story on tumblr. If you haven't seen the drawing already, I recommended that you check it out because, it's really awesome. mevsmine. tumblr post/ 36764984036 /arya-as-a-young-zombie-killer-inspired-by-this
And last, but certainly not least, I would like to thank the-candy-van for making this brilliant trailer of the white walkers on youtube. Again if you haven't seen it, the link is right here, www. youtube watch?v =pUBoy XfsHd8
*Just remember to put the spaces together for the links. Had to seperate them because for some reason does not allow you to post links.*
RavenGreenMoon suggested that I do a bit of a recap before each chapter, as many of you guys are a little fuzzy about what happened in the previous chapter, as it takes me forever to update. So here's a breif little recap, followed by chapter 7.
Enjoy :)
Previously on the White Walkers...
Arya leaves the shed with Rickon, after Bran is murdered by a Walker, who mysteriously found entry into their safe haven. Yoren does not allow Arya and Rickon to venture the leave the shed by themselves and the whole pack accompanies her, to find a new safe house.
On their journey, the pack is ambushed by Walkers. The group splits off as they both run and attempt to fight the undead army. Arya finds Lommy in the midst of the battle. He has injured his leg and scratched it on a rock. Arya is about to help him when she realises that he was the last person to lock the shed and the first to unlock it, before Bran was attacked. Lommy explains that he forgot to lock the shed after he left, and that's how the Walkers must have entered the shed. He explains to Arya that he is sorry and did not mean for Bran to die, but Arya points the shotgun at him and pulls the trigger.
She tells the others that Lommy's scratch was from a Walker and she shot him before he turned. The groups easily accepts her lie and no one questions it.
While they are on their journey, Arya recalls an Island known as the Red Keep that was previously owned by the Lannisters. She assumes the island was unoccupied at the time of the pandemic, so she and the pack make their way to Kings Landing, attempting to find the Red Keep and claim it as their new safe haven.
During their journey, Arya and Gendry's bond seems to grow closer. Arya feels weird, unexplainable feelings, in the pit of her stomach when she and Gendry are placed in intimate situations.
Finally they arrive at the ports of Kings Landing and find a boat, to take them to the island. Unfortunately Arya does not remember how to get to the island by boat, but she and the pack decide to board the boat anyways, hoping they will eventually stumble onto the island, as they sail the ocean.
And so the adventure continues...
As the days pass, the temperature drops. It seems as though the fury of summer has left and replaced itself with a chilling, cruel winter. Arya cannot remember if autumn even decided to grace itself with its presence this year. It seems as if one day the weather is scorching hot and the next it is unbearably cold.
They have been sailing the oceans of Kings Landing for about two weeks now and the group is not even one step closer in finding salvation. The premise of safety in the Red Keep is so close yet just out of grasp. There have been no signs of land, only bodies of water to keep Arya and her pack company.
Arya cannot describe the frustration she feels to be so utterly powerless at this moment. Since her father died, Arya has taken on the role of the provider. It is her job to get things done, but now it seems as if no matter what she does and no matter how hard she tries, she cannot find safety for her pack. She has rattled her mind for two weeks now, attempting to conjure up a memory, hoping it would give her a clue to the whereabouts of the island, but so far she has had no such luck.
Arya lies on the side of the boat and leans her hand out the edge, allowing her fingertips to gently graze the water. She feels the waves gently caress the palm of her hand as she runs her fingertips over the tides. She can do nothing now but hope that these tides will take them to safety.
A strong gust of wind blows and Arya shivers. The water is cold. The air is cold. Everything is cold. She pulls her hand away from the water and tucks it into the large woolen blanket she is cradled in. It will not be long now until winter comes.
She remembers what her father said about winter; that it is not only a season, but rather a representation of our luck in this world. Winter comes for everyone and with it comes the harshness of reality. It lasts longer for some then it does for others, but the harshness is the same. Winter swallows you whole and your entire perception of life is clouded in misery and woe. But after winter, summer is sure to follow. It is a state of mind when everything is neutral, peaceful, and even happy. Arya finds it ironic that she had been living her winter through the summer season, and now that her winter has finally come to an end, the season of winter actually begins.
They have been on this boat for two weeks now, travelling wherever the wind takes them and Arya cannot remember a time when she has been this much at peace. She no longer has to live in the fear of Walkers- for they are now in a faraway place- as she and her pack were virtually untouchable in the ocean. Once they manage to find the Red Keep, everything will be perfect.
They have been living on stale granola bars, stale cereal and raw fish these past few weeks. Rickon, Weasel and Gendry have already gotten food poisoning from the raw meat. Though it is difficult and unappetising to eat their meat raw, the group cannot take the risk to light a fire. Not on a boat. Not when they are so far away from land.
Arya wishes she would have spent a little more time paying attention to where they had been traveling all those years ago. If she had, they may have been on the island already. Rickon cannot remember a thing; he was just a toddler when he last set foot on the Red Keep. She is surprised that he managed to remember the island at all, even though those are one of the few happy memories he has left to cherish.
Arya looks around the boat. Gendry and Yoren are still asleep, while Rickon and Weasel are either chatting or playing one of their imaginative games as they kept watch. Walker Watch is not so much the same as it was a couple of weeks ago. As a matter of fact, it isn't really called 'Walker Watch' any longer. Where before, the group was looking out for Walkers, they are simply looking out for land now. They only really needed one person to stay on duty: to make sure that they did not miss the island, and also to ensure they do not stray into Walker territory.
Hot Pie sits in the middle of the boat as he prepares their dinner. Arya had offered to help Hot Pie but he said there isn't any point. They would be having beef jerky, stale granola bars and either water or a juice box to wash it down with. No fish were caught today, and even if they managed to procure a large sum of fish, Arya predicts many of her friends would just pass it up.
Another gust of wind blows and Arya shivers once more. She is wearing a hoodie today; Arya pulls up the hood and tugs at the strings, concealing her face behind the warm fabric. She plays with the laces of Jon's old, black steel-toed boots. He bought them when he took up a job at the Home Depot. He was the only child in their family who actually had a job; granted, there were days when Robb would volunteer at their father's company. The shoes are a bit too big on her but she has grown accustomed to them. She was wearing them the day she and her family ran from their home and she had stuck to them ever since. Besides, she has no such luck in finding another pair of shoes. Even the storage area of the Wal-Mart was lacking in that luxury. Even if she did find another pair, Arya doubted she would ever be able to part with the ones she was wearing now. Other then Needle, a few of her old clothes and various trinkets, it is the only connection she has to her big brother and her past life.
Hot Pie announces that it is time for dinner and Arya begrudgingly stalks towards Yoren and Gendry, waking them up for the meal. Though everyone is pretty much sick of the rations they are on, they eat their food with no complaint. Well, all except for Yoren, who does not so much as touch the food in front of him. Instead, Yoren just nurses his flask of whisky, drinking the alcohol as if it were water. Any other man would have been drunk by now, but Yoren seems to have a high tolerance for alcohol. It is almost as if he is dependent on the liquor.
"It won't be long 'till the water freezes over," Gendry remarks, interrupting their silence.
"Well, aren't you Mr. Optimistic," Hot Pie states sarcastically as he takes another bite of the jerky.
"Not trying to be optimistic, just stating the facts," Gendry grunts, and that put an end to the conversation.
Everyone casts sideway glances at one another. They knew they needed to settle on land before winter came, for the great body of water they were sailing on would soon freeze over and replace itself with ice. No one wanted to return back to King's Landing, but at this point it seemed as if they have no other option. These few weeks of salvation on their little boat have been nothing but pure bliss - the poor rations of food aside. There are no Walkers here. No fear. No death.
When they are done, Arya silently gathers the dishes and begins to wash them, along the side of the boat. Everyone else gathers in the middle of the boat and begins to play a card game. They had found a deck of cards in one of their packs, a few days back and it seems as if all they do now is play Crazy Eights, Cheat and President. Normally, Arya would be happy to join them, but she cannot get Gendry's words out of her head. It won't be long 'till the water freezes over. Of course not- winter is coming.
Arya puts the dishes away and then plops down onto the floor. She brings her knees up to her chest and buries her head in her lap. Closing her eyes, she thinks of something, anything, to give her a clue on the whereabouts of the island. But she does not remember. All she remembers is plugging in her iPod and listening to AC/DC, Kansas or Poison, while Cersei prattled on about her new yacht or Joffery bragged about the car his father was planning to buy him for his sixteenth birthday. Arya groaned in frustration. Of course she remembers the stupid things. She is so frustrated right now that she could kick something.
"Hi," she hears a small voice say.
Arya looks up and is surprised when she sees Weasel's big brown eyes staring down at her. "Hi," Arya manages to mutter back.
She looks shy, almost hesitant, but she speaks anyways. "Do you want to play with us?" Weasel asks.
But Arya does not. She does not want to do anything at the moment, except take a couple of Advil and go to sleep. But she nods anyways, not wanting to disappoint the young girl, especially since this was the first time Weasel had spoken to her since their time at the shed.
Weasel stretches her hand out and Arya takes it and wraps her rough hands over Weasel's. Her skin is soft. Delicate. Arya walks with her towards the middle of the boat where everyone else is gathered. Hot Pie shuffles the deck and distributes the cards. Arya smirks when she sees the three of diamonds, along with every other suit for that number, two jokers and three twos. The odds could not be stocked greater in her favour. She plays the four threes and everyone looks at her, wide eyed, each passing until it was her turn once more. Perhaps playing cards would not be so bad after all.
The sun shines brightly on her face and it blinds her. Arya tries closing her eyes but it doesn't help. She can still feel the rays of sunlight burning onto her skin and it gives her a headache. Arya slowly allows for her eyes to flutter open and she catches a glimpse of Sansa's long, downy, unnaturally blonde hair. Arya holds back a scoff as she looks at her sister. She doesn't understand why Sansa bothered to dye it. Her natural auburn colour was already beautiful, while her current hairdo - along with her flamboyant dress - makes her look like one of those bleach-blonde bimbos. Her hair may actually be brighter than the sun. Beside her, there sits Joffery Baratheon, with equally bright hair, and now Arya's head is pounding.
She pulls her hood up over her head and turns around, putting her back towards them. Arya is clearly facing the wrong direction, as she sees them pull away from the docks of King's Landing, but it is better than staring at that monstrosity and the unyielding sun.
Arya shuffles her songs until she settles onto one she likes. Though her head hurts, the heavy metal music drowns out the annoying chitter-chatter in the background. She considers talking to Jon but he brought his new lady friend, Ygritte, and clearly does not have any time for his sister.
She wishes Bran were here but he, Mom, and Robb are back in Winterfell. Bran has his rock climbing tournament next week, and Mom and Robb are there to support him. Arya wanted to stay home with Bran, but she was forced to come to the Red Keep instead. She doesn't understand why she was forced to come here. Initially, she did not resist too much because Jon would be here too, but once they picked up Ygritte from her home, Jon had not been paying much attention to his little sister.
She hears footsteps behind her and in the corner of her eye, she can see that someone has sat down beside her. Initially she thinks it's her father's friend, Robert. The man who is responsible for dragging her to this island. She can see a shock of coal black hair and with his large stature, the possibilities have really narrowed down to only one man. But when she turns to face him, Arya gasps.
It's Gendry.
He looks down at her and smiles. Arya feels the heat pool in her stomach. This isn't right, she thinks, he's not supposed to be here. But he is, and instead of questioning his presence, Arya smiles at him. She is glad for the company.
She hears chatter on the boat and when she turns around, the Baratheons, Lannisters and her family are gone. Instead they are replaced with her new pack: Rickon, Hot Pie, Yoren and Weasel.
The warmth in her belly subsides as she realises she is in a dream. It was ironic that she has been wishing for her family for so long, and the one moment she had with them- even if it was all a figment of her imagination- she chose to ignore every last one of them.
Arya wakes up, with her head aching more than ever. She gets up and rummages through their medical supplies for some Advil. She swallows the two pills with not so much as a sip of water and grunts in frustration. The dream had felt so real. She could even smell Sansa's raspberry shampoo and hear Jon's laughter in the background. She plops down on the floor of the boat, buries her face in her hands and cries. They are not tears of frustration nor anger, they are tears of grief. Though Arya is sixteen, she feels like a child. A child who misses her family.
"You okay?" she hears a deep voice ask. Arya looks up to find Gendry looking down at her. His brow is furrowed and he looks concerned.
Arya curses herself for being so weak and wipes the tears off her face with her sleeve. She forgot that Gendry was keeping watch, while the others slept. This is the one thing she hates about their little boat; she has no privacy.
Arya nods her head as she wipes away the stray tears still left on her cheek. Truthfully, she isn't okay. Though she is still upset, Arya is more tired than anything. Tired of this damn world and everything in it. She misses her family and doubts she will ever see them again. They are most likely dead or they are Walkers; she does not know which fate is worse.
Gendry is still standing over her; it is obvious that he saw through her lie. He does not say anything though, just stands there stoically, waiting for her to get up.
So she does.
Her head still aches and she rubs at it, soothing the pain away. "You can go to sleep," Arya offers. "I can take watch."
Gendry stares at her for a moment. He looks at her strangely, as if he is trying to decipher her true intent, but Arya's face is back to her mask. She will not let anyone see her when she is weak, not even Gendry."Not tired," he responds, and for a moment she thinks he is going to order her back to bed, but he doesn't. "You can stay on watch with me though... If you want."
Arya nods and they silently looked across the horizon. She does not understand how Gendry keeps watch at night- she cannot see anything in the dark. She squints her eyes but her vision is the same. All she sees is darkness.
They are silent for a long moment, until Gendry decides to speak. "You know, you can always tell me about it," he offers.
"Huh?" She turns to look at him, but he is still looking across the ocean. He leans his elbow on the metal side rail as he continues to keep watch.
"The nightmares," he states. His face softens and he turns to look at her. For a second, she thinks are pity in his eyes, until he speaks. "I used to get them all the time, in the beginning. Sometimes it helps when you talk to someone about it. You don't have to if you don't want to. I'm just saying if you ever want to talk to someone about it, I'm always ready to listen."
Ah, empathy. Arya thinks to herself, grateful that Gendry is not pitying her. Pity is the last thing she needs, and she is happy that Gendry understands what she is going through.
"I-" Arya hesitates, because it's weird. She has never talked about her nightmares with anyone before. Sometimes she would tell her father and Jon about them when she was little, but this is different. She is not a little girl anymore, and this is Gendry. But it doesn't look like he is judging her. He continues to stare out into the horizon but she knows he is listening.
"I sometimes have dreams... about them," she answers.
"Your family?" Gendry asks, not the least bit surprised. In fact, it seems more like a confirmation than a question.
Arya nods her head. "Sometimes they are just memories, other times I dream that they are Walkers." Just saying those words brings a shiver up her spine. She sees Gendry flinch too but otherwise he remains stoic.
"What about today?" he asks.
It is surprising how easy it is to talk to Gendry. She has never been comfortable talking about her nightmares with Bran and Rickon, but with Gendry... it's different. So she tells him. She tells him all about her dream- everything she can remember about it at least- down to the finest detail. In the middle of her story, Gendry turns to look at her with an odd expression on his face. She expects him to interrupt, but he doesn't. He remains quiet until she is finished telling her tale.
"How much of that is true?" Gendry blurts out when he is sure she is finished.
"What?" Arya sputters, bewildered.
"Your dream," Gendry elaborates. "How much of it is true?"
There ia an edge to his voice, which concerns Arya, but she answers his question nonetheless. "Well, obviously you, Yoren, Rickon, Hot Pie and Weasel were not on that boat, but other than that...I suppose all of it. Sansa really did end up dyeing her hair blonde, but only for a couple of months. When she found out how stupid she looked, she-"
"No, Arya," Gendry interrupts. "When you were on the boat, you said you were facing the wrong direction. Did that really happen on all of your trips?"
"I…yeah, I guess," she responds, caught off guard by his question.
"And the reason you were facing the wrong way, was because the sun was in your eyes?" Gendry continues. His entire body is slightly shaking now, his eyes wide and his pupils dilated, though that was probably a result of the dim light. She can barely see his blue irises- all she sees is black.
"Gendry, are you okay?" she asks, concerned now.
"Arya, please answer the question," Gendry snaps, slightly frustrated. "You said you were facing the wrong direction on the boat because the sun was in your eyes" he repeats. "Did that happen in real life as well?" It seems as if he was suppressing the urge to shake her, with how persistent he was in asking these questions.
Arya pauses for only a moment to think about it. "Yes. But why is that important?"
Gendry ignores her question and asks one of his own. "And approximately what time of day were you guys on the boat?"
"Really early in the morning," Arya responds. "Probably about eight or nine in the morning. But Gendry, why is this releva-"
She does not have any time to finish asking her question, because Gendry is already gone, trying to wake up Yoren. "Yoren!" Gendry screams, kicking the man on his side. "Get up!"
Yoren wakes with a jolt, along with everyone else on the boat. They all look positively terrified. Hot Pie scrambles for the wooden baseball bat- Arya notices there is a damp area on his crotch and the puddle of liquid gets slightly larger as time passes. Weasel is holding Rickon tightly. She looks absolutely petrified as she clings onto Arya's little brother. Rickon looks just as scared as well- her brother tries putting up a brave front but Arya can see the fear in his eyes.
Yoren quickly grabbs his shotgun, and cocks it, ready to shoot. "Where are they? Where are 'em bloody Walkers?" he demands. Yoren gets up a bit too quickly and stumbles onto the floor. It looks as if the alcohol has finally caught up with him.
Gendry steadies Yoren. "There aren't any Walkers, but-"
Gendry doesn't even have time to finish his sentence when Yoren points the shotgun at his chest. "What do you mean there are no bloody Walkers? Did yer just give me a fucking heart attack for nothin'? I swear on my brother's grave, Waters, that if you don't give me a bloody good reason for wakin' me up like that, I will shoot yeh. You may be big and as strong as a fucking bull but I'd rather be down one man if it also means being down one idiot." Yoren puts his finger over the trigger and Gendry looks as if he may piss his pants. Arya thinks Yoren is kidding, but he is a little drunk, and she wouldn't put anything past Yoren, especially when he was in a foul mood.
"Whoa, take it easy old man. Put the gun down," Gendry states gently. Yoren appears to be retreating, but just when Gendry's guard is down, Yoren whacks him in the head with the back of the shotgun and turns the weapon to point it at his chest once more.
"What the fuck!" Gendry exclaims as he clutches the side of his head. The entire area is red and Arya wouldn't be surprised if a lump were to form soon.
"Like I said, if you're going to act like an idiot, Waters, I will shoot yeh," Yoren grumbles.
Gendry is not amused as he continues rubbing the sore spot on his head. "I was just going to say that Arya remembers where the island is."
A collective gasp runs through the crowd. Even Arya is surprised by Gendry's statement. What did he mean by she remembers where the Red Keep is? She still has no bloody idea where the island could possibly be.
Yoren immediately lowers his shotgun and gives Gendry an apologetic look. "Aye, so where is it then, girl?" he asks, turning to face Arya.
Arya just stares at him, wide-eyed. "I... um..."
"East from the port in King's Landing," Gendry interrupts.
"Right then," Yoren exclaims as he runs to pull down the sails.
"Wait!" Arya shouts, stilling Yoren's actions. "What do you mean it's east of the port?" Arya asks as she turned to face Gendry. "How did you manage to figure that out just from my dream?"
Gendry quirks an eyebrow at her, looking at her as if she had just asked the stupidest question in the world, but he answers her anyways. "You said when you left the port, you would turn around and face the opposite direction because the sun was in your eye. If you left before noon, that meant your boat was travelling east, Arya."
Arya mentally chastises herself for not realising this earlier on. If it wasn't for her stupidity, they may have already been on the Red Keep by now.
Gendry's reasoning seemed good enough for Yoren too, as he pulled down the sails and the boat slowly came to a still. "Wish we had a damn anchor," Yoren grumbles. "Anyways, we'll wait 'till the wind changes direction. In the mean time, we should all get some sleep. If the current doesn't change by tomorrow, then we'll stay here for a while. We'll catch some more fish, do some laundry and take a bath. You lot are starting to stink more than a Hot Pie's pits on a hot day."
"Hey!" Hot Pie exclaimes, clearly offended. He thought better of retaliating any further, remembering what Yoren had just hit Gendry with.
"Aye, now y'all need to shut ter fuck up, so I can get me beauty sleep. You don't want ter see me on a bad day," Yoren grumbles out, heading back to his bed.
"So you mean up until now, we've seen the good, happy-go-lucky Yoren?" Gendry jokes.
Yoren flips him off as he settles into bed.
"I'm still waiting for an apology, old man!" Gendry shoutes.
"Well, then you'll be waitin` a long time," Yoren remarks.
It took a while for everyone else to get back to bed, but shortly, the boat was silent with the exception of Yoren's snores. The only two people that remained awake were Arya and Gendry. The group still needed someone to keep watch, and Gendry still hadn't finished his shift. She saw him rubbing at his forehead and grumbling every now and then.
"Are you okay?" Arya asks as she stands up on her tiptoes, trying to get a better look at Gendry's forehead.
"Yeah," Gendry mutters. "Yoren's got quite the backhand though." He continues rubbing at his head, aggravating the sore region.
Arya swats his hands away, frustrated that he is doing it wrong. "Here, let me," she suggests. She grabs a small little cloth and soaks it in the cool ocean water. Her fingers are numb from wetting and wringing out the cloth, but she knows this will help Gendry. She turns to look at him and stands on her tiptoes, reaching her hands up to dab the cloth on his forehead. Gendry gets the memo and sits down so she can tend to his wound. She moves down as well, so she is now standing on her knees, knelling above him. Gently, Arya continued to dab the cool compress, down on the red region of Gendry's forehead. "Better?" she asks.
"Yeah. Thanks." He is looking at her strangely again and Arya tries to ignore his stare by concentrating on her work. "Arya," he states quietly, placing his hand gently over hers. It is strange how her fingers could be so numb from the cold just moments ago, and burning hot the next. She turns to look at his eyes and notices she is much closer to him than she had originally thought. He has that look on his face again- the look he always has when he was just about to do something stupid.
It is strange, how her body manages to block out all her other senses in that one moment. She no longer feels cold from the weather, she can no longer hear Yoren's snores - though she is pretty sure he was still snoring away. All she can see is Gendry and his blue eyes, and all she can feel is his hand still resting on her own. Her once steady hand had now begun to tremble, and no matter how hard Arya tried controlling it, her limb would not stop shaking. Her heart rate picked up it`s normal pace and begins beating erratically, she was sure it is ready to jump out of her chest. To make it all worse, her stomach is churning harder than ever.
Gendry moves his other hand to her hair and begins weaving his fingers through her short curls. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and then rests his hand on her cheek. His touch is so warm and despite his callused fingers, Arya`s head leans towards his hand (on its own accord), pressing her face against his palm. She briefly thinks that his touch will leave a mark, considering how hot it is burning.
"Arya," he whispers again. It`s strange, the way he says her name this time, like he is asking permission for something. She still has no idea what he is doing and she is perplexed when she realises that she is no longer in control of her own body. Her mind beckons her lips to move, so that she may respond to Gendry, but she finds that she is unable to move a muscle. She is entranced by his stare. He is still sitting on the floor while Arya is bent on her knees, hovering above him with her hand still on his forehead. Her respirations pick up, and Arya's chest heaves with each breath she takes.
She cannot describe the emotion she is feeling right now- it was one that she has never felt before. It feels as if she is ready to throw up at any minute, but she would be happy doing so at the same time. It is quite a strange feeling and Arya is not sure if she likes it. Gendry must have thought of her as an idiot at this point. He called her name twice and all she could do was sit and stare stupidly at him. She cannot comprehend why her body is acting like this. Her mind tries telling her to stop acting stupid but her body won`t listen. She wants to slap herself to break her out of this trance.
Every so slowly, Gendry scoots closer to her, or maybe she does to him. She isn't quite sure which one was right. The only reason she knows that they are closer was when their noses touched, ever so slightly. Gendry tilts his head to the side to get his nose out of the way, all the while never breaking his stare. He leans in even more closer, ever so slowly until-
"Time for my shift now, boy!" Yoren hollers.
Arya is startled and jerks forward, accidently head butting Gendry in his nose. She definitely hears a crack and then comes a blinding pain. She hears Gendry scream out in pain, as he breaks away from her, clutching his nose. Arya puts her hands to her forehead, hissing in pain. Her forehead is burning now, so she grabs the damp cloth and places it on her forehead. When the pain ebbs down a bit, she looks at Gendry, who is wiping the blood from his nose.
"Bloody hell, Yoren!" Gendry curses.
"Aye," was all Yoren said. He is staring at Gendry with a stern look in his eye. Arya knew that look. It was the same look Yoren would give Arya when he was ready to give her one of his 'speeches'. She expects Yoren to chastise Gendry for startling him earlier that night but he doesn't. Instead, he turns to look at Arya. "You've been awake now for a while girl. Go on. Off to bed with yeh."
Arya is about to protest until she realises she actually is tired. Instead, she just whispers a "goodnight" and walks to her usual spot beside Rickon.
Gendry is walking right behind her, about to settle down to a spare space by her right when Yoren calls for him; "Ain't you gonna keep an old man company?" Arya thinks Yoren is joking but he has a serious look in his eyes.
Gendry seemed to catch the look as well and glanced between Yoren and Arya. "Yeah. I suppose that's fine."
He walks back to Yoren and they both take a seat on the ground, on the opposite side of the boat. It seems as if Yoren is purposely sitting as far away from her as possible. He is staring at Arya as he takes a swing of alcohol from his flask. He doesn`t even turn to look at Gendry when he takes a seat beside him.
Arya shifts her attention away from Yoren and back to her bed. She gathers her blanket and wraps it around her shoulders before sleeping beside Rickon. Within minutes, she is asleep once more.
In her sleep-like state, Arya turns to her side, her back now facing Rickon. She could swear she heard whispers in the background. Her body is trying to prevent her from overhearing the conversation, wanting to pull her back to sleep, but her mind is too curious. As Arya settles on her side, she focuses her ears- as much as someone could when they were half asleep- in an attempt to overhear the conversation going on around her.
"- do you understand what I'm saying, boy?" she hears a man with a gruff voice ask.
Another man with a deeper voice responds, "She's not a child Yoren."
"Yes. That's exactly what she is. A child!" Yoren chides. "Do you think she had any idea what was going on tonight?"
"She's not stupid, Yoren." The voice that is unmistakeably Gendry, responds
"No. She's not, but she is naïve," Yoren explains. "She doesn't understand things like this. She tries to act mature for her age but she doesn't understand these things, boy. All she's ever known is to fight and survive. She has no time and nor does she understand any of your... advances. Look, you're a man grown and she's not even an adult yet. If this was the real world, her father would have hung you upside down by yer balls. Ah, that's right. You wince, boy. Think about what she'd do to you if she figured out what was going on tonight."
Arya isn't sure whether she is dreaming or not. Either way, she has a funny feeling that Yoren and Gendry were talking about her, but what were they saying? What did they mean by she didn't understand?
"I get what you're saying," Gendry began, "but tonight when we-"
And that's all Arya hears before she falls back into a deep slumber.
When she awakes for the second time, it is dawn. Yoren is sitting by himself, nursing a flask of whisky. She expects to see Gendry sleeping on her right but instead he is asleep on the other side of the boat. She swore she had overheard a conversation not meant for her ears, between Yoren and Gendry last night, but she cannot remember a thing. Perhaps that was for the best. Still, she tries to rack her brain in an attempt to recall even a tidbit of their conversation. While she is deep in thought, Rickon stirs beside her.
"Is it morning yet?" he groans.
Arya nods her head. "It's dawn." Rickon groans again and pulls the blanket over his head as he turns on his stomach, finding sleep once more.
Arya, on the other hand, pulls the blankets away from her body and rouses, stretching her sore muscles. She strides over to Yoren, who is still deep in his cups. "Isn't it a little too early to be drinking?"
Yoren tears his eyes away from his flask and looks up at her. "Now, how did that saying go?" he asks her.
"'It's 5 o'clock somewhere?'" Arya offers.
"No, I think it goes somewhere along the lines of…'mind yer own fucking business,'" Yoren retorts, before taking another swing from his flask.
Arya snorts. "So what's the plan for today, Captain?"
Yoren seals his flask and buries it deep inside his backpack. He then gets up and begins rummaging through their food supply. He fishes out two granola bars, tossing one at Arya before devouring the other for himself. "Not much to do, kid," he explains, his mouth still full of food. "The wind's still blowing to the west, so we`ve got to wait it out `till it switches directions again."
She sighs. "And to think, we were heading eastbound when we deported from King's Landing."
"Aye," Yoren sympathises, "but the world has a funny way of playing tricks on ya. Wind changed direction and brought us further away from that island of yours."
"Not my island," Arya corrects quickly.
He just shrugs. "Suppose not. Guess we'll just dock here for a couple of days. Like I was trying to say last night, while we're waiting for the wind, we can do some laundry, catch some fish, wash ourselves down. Gendry can take a look at that broken radio, Hot Pie can cook us some sushi, you can continue menstruating-"
"Yoren!" Arya shouts. She feels the blush rising to her cheeks, both from fury and embarrassment. Arya is just thankful that no one else had heard Yoren's remark, as they were all still asleep.
"Hit the nail on the mark did I?" Yoren chuckls, nonplused by her glare.
Arya was just about to stomp off when Yoren calls out to her. "Hey, kid." Arya turns to face him and notices his expression has changed to a rather serious one. "Just do me a favour. Get some rest; you don't take no afternoon naps and you don't have any night time watches. I don't want you getting up and keeping Gendry, Hot Pie or I company, understand?"
No, Arya does not understand. What was wrong with staying up at night? Her nightmares kept her up anyways, so Arya did not see the harm with keeping her fellow companions company. Instead of getting into another tussle with Yoren, Arya just nods her head. Perhaps it would be better if she at least attempted to sleep rather than letting her fears get the better of her. She remembers a saying from somewhere she cannot remember, quite a long time ago. Fear cuts deeper than swords she recalls.
In the morning, it seems as though everyone's spirits are lifted. Though they hadn't found the Red Keep and they are still living on the same unbearable rations, the atmosphere is bright. Their hope of ever finding salvation was dwindling away until last night. The group finally has a clue on where to find the island and the prospect of a life away from the Walkers, warms the group's hearts. All they had to do now was to wait for the wind to change directions and then they can sail to safety.
The boys were out cleaning themselves up, while Arya and Weasel were tending to the laundry. "Ugh, Hot Pie's clothes smell foul!" Arya whines, while facing the dreaded task of cleaning his undergarments.
Weasel giggles as she continues to scrub away the dirt off Rickon's socks. Shameful to say, Weasel has already mastered the art of laundry, and she had only recently turned five. Arya, on the other hand, lacked the patience for scrubbing off each piece of grime. When she was young, she would just toss her soiled clothes into a hamper and their nanny, Mrs. Mordane, would clean them by tossing her filthy clothes into a washing machine. It is frightening to see how hopeless humans are now that the luxuries of technology are no longer attainable. Not only that, but they also have a scarce supply of garments. Prior to the apocalypse, even though Arya wasn't a vain person, whenever her clothes would get slightly nicked, she'd discard the garment into a donation bin and set off to buy a new article of clothing. Now, all of her clothes had at least one hole in them. Her socks are so dirty and worn out that each had a huge hole, right at the heel of her foot. Even if they do find the Red Keep soon, and even if it is free of Walkers, it will never be home. She can never go back to her old life.
"They're back!" Weasel exclaims, breaking Arya away from her thoughts. She rushes over to the side of the boat, to see the boys swimming back to the ship.
"Look at what we caught," Yoren chimed, as he dumped a small bag of two fish and several prawns into the boat. He then rose from the water, grabbing the railing to climb in. The boat slightly tips as he pulls himself out of the water.
Weasel runs to get Yoren a towel. He is soaking wet. Little droplets of water fall from his untamed brown curls and splatters onto the floor of the boat. He is wearing nothing but his white briefs and with them soaked, Arya is able to see through his undergarment. The vast, thick, dark curls of his pubic hair are visible to her eyes and she can just see the outline of his-
"Here," Weasel offers, holding out a towel for Yoren. He graciously takes the towel from the small girl and spends a great deal of time drying off his hair with the towel rather than covering the area he needed to most.
If only Arya could see her face; she was positive it was a bright shade of pink. Yoren is like a crazy uncle to her, and the last thing she wants to see is her uncle's nether-regions.
"Hey guys. A bit of help, yeah?" Hot Pie calls out.
Yoren helps pull the large boy onto the boat, again watching the boat tips a bit as Hot Pie clamours on. Arya lets out a sigh of relief, when she notices Hot Pie is wearing loose dark blue boxers. Arya leans over to the side of the boat and grabs Rickon's hand, pulling him into the boat. Her brother is a bit disappointed to see that the boat did not tip for him as it did for the others. He begins jumping up and down on the railing, only capable of slightly swaying the boat.
Arya chuckles as she finally draws Rickon into the boat. "Don't worry bro, one day you'll be taller than Yoren and bigger than Gendry." She then proceeds to muzzle his hair but he smacks her hand away and huffs. He angrily grabs a towel from Weasel and then sulks as he made his way over to his spot on the boat.
"Oi lad! That's no way to treat your sister!" Yoren reprimands.
Arya just shrugs, completely nonplussed by Rickon's outburst. She has lived with him for over seven years and his behaviour is nothing out of the ordinary. Even as a babe, Rickon was always temperamental.
It is now Gendry's turn to climb onto the boat. He pulls on the railing and Arya briefly thinks that the boat will tip over with his weight. He pulls himself onto the boat and shakes the water off his head, similar to how Nymeria would, after Arya would give her a bath.
She tries to pull her eyes away from Gendry, but she cannot help herself. He is wearing dark grey briefs, a similar colour to her eyes, and while they were not tight, they aren't exactly loose either. She moves her eyes up to his abdomen, staring at the perfect six pack and the ridges of his muscles. She slowly trails her eyes up his arms, spending a great deal of time focusing on his biceps. Arya does not understand why she is so appealed by his strength, but a certain warmth fills her heart when she stares at his muscles.
"Damn, that water is fucking cold," Gendry complains as he wipes the water from his skin with his towel.
Arya forces herself to tear her eyes away from Gendry and turns to look at Yoren. She is a bit caught off guard when she realises Yoren has been staring at her the entire time with a wary expression on his face. It looks as if he is disappointed in her, but what had she done? "Alright. I suppose Weasel and I will be off then," Arya announces.
"Aye," Yoren replies, "perhaps that's for the best."
Arya fetches a bag of cleaning products. Her and Weasel's clothes are already lain out neatly on a pile beside their supplies. Both she and Weasel will dress once they are back on the boat, to keep their clothes dry.
Arya strips off her dirty garments, leaving her in her sports bra and a pair of briefs. She strips Weasel as well, again keeping her underwear on. Arya knows Weasel isn't one for modesty- besides she is only a mere child of five, but she still does not feel comfortable allowing three grown men and a boy look at her nude body
Arya borrows one of Hot Pie's belt straps and ties it around her upper thigh. She then secures her pistol to the belt, but not before checking to see if the safety is on. In truth, she knows she will not run into any trouble in the water, but she feels naked- even more so than one could feel by standing on a boat in their undergarments – without some form of protection. She then grabs the bag of cleaning products and places the straps around her shoulders, carrying the bag like a backpack. After she is sure everything is secure, she leans off the railing and jumps into the ocean.
Gendry was right about the water being cold. As soon as Arya dives into the ocean, her body recoils from the harsh temperature. Above surface, the temperature is just numbingly cold, but in the water, it is almost painful. It feels as if someone is jabbing pins and needles onto every inch of exposed flesh. Arya gasps from the contact and quickly rises to the surface, sucking in a few breaths before bobbing back down into the water, allowing her body to adjust to the new temperature.
"You ready, kid?" she hears Yoren call out.
Arya nods her head, as she swims closer to the boat. "Ready," she announces, as she stretches her arms out while treading the water, to keep her afloat. Ever so carefully, Yoren tosses Weasel into Arya's outstretched arms. Arya catches her easily, wrapping her arm around the little girl's waist and using the other arm to keep them afloat.
"Aye," Yoren calls out, "now there's a big chuck o' rock about five minutes from your right."
Arya nods, grateful for a spot to perch Weasel on top of, making it much easier for her to bathe both the little girl and herself. Slowly, she swims to the general location Yoren told her about. True to his word, there is indeed a large mossy rock floating in the midst of the ocean.
Arya must have been out in the water for hours, scrubbing the grime and dirt vigorously off Weasel and her own skin. She take a look at her fingers and notices they have shrivelled up into little prunes, similar to the way they had once done when she was a child and had sat in the bath for too long.
Arya makes her way back to the boat with Weasel. Again, the little girl's arms are wound tightly around her neck and her tiny legs are wrapped right under her chest. Arya finds it quite difficult to tow Weasel to and from the boat; if so much as Weasel's chin would sink below the water, the little girl would panic and burst out into hysterical tears. Not to mention that Weasel`s knees are pressing up hard against Arya`s protruding ribs. She would not be surprised, if she were to find a bruise there tomorrow. Though Arya genuinely likes Weasel, she finds her immaturity a tad bit frustrating at times. She keeps her patience though, practice from living with Bran and Rickon when they were babes.
Arya remembers a time when Bran was three and she, five; her brother had fallen down the stairs and broken out into a fit of tears. As their mother leaves to calm him down and check for injuries, Arya complains, "He's acting like such a baby."
"He is a baby, Arya. Bran's only three," Jon reasons.
"But why does he have to cry? I sprained my hand a month ago and I didn't cry."
Jon just laughs and muzzles her hair. "That's because, little sister, you injure yourself so often that I doubt you feel pain anymore. Just because you don't cry when you get hurt doesn't mean you don't cry over other things."
"Do not!" she protests.
"Oh yeah?" he challenged. "When you were two, Robb accidently tore the head off your favourite teddy bear and you cried for three days straight." Arya frowns. She certainly did not remember that. "And then father bought you a new doll and you got over it," he continues. "You named her Wenda, after the story our Nan used to tell us."
Arya remembers the doll Jon was talking about and she remembers the tale of Wenda the White Fawn. She sighs, Arya knew he was right; in fact, he was always right. That was one of the reasons why he was her favourite brother. So she just shut her mouth and stopped complaining about Bran while Jon continued to muzzle her hair.
Arya sighs, shaking off the memory of Jon. He's dead, stupid; thinking about him won't help the pain go away. She finds herself dreaming about her family more often as time passes, and she hates it. The moment she had started accepting Bran's death was when she allowed herself to stop thinking so much about him.
Arya makes her way over to the edge of the boat and is greeted by Yoren. "Just in time, lads; food's ready." She is thankful that Hot Pie had cooked their lunch so fast- all that swimming had built up quite an appetite.
Arya grabs onto the edge of the railing and tries to push Weasel up as far as she can. Luckily, Yoren is able to reach her and lifts her off. Moments later, he outstretches his hand to her and she graciously takes it. He pulls her up and onto the boat with ease. Once her feet are firmly placed on the ground, she briefly remembers how Yoren and the others appeared when they emerged from the water with their clothes clinging to every nook and ridge of their skin, outlining every single private area it was meant to conceal. Arya realises she is wearing white as well and looks down at her body. She can visibly see everything she was trying to hide and she feels the blush rising to her cheeks. She moves her hands to cover her chest, but when she looks up, Arya realises that no one other than Weasel and Rickon are there. Yoren is making his way back to Gendry and Hot Pie, on the other side of the boat. Their backs are faced to her and Arya mentally thanks the three guys for still giving her the privacy she requires.
Rickon hands her a towel and Arya begins to dry Weasel and herself off. She dismisses Rickon, not that she minds her brother seeing her nude, but to preserve Weasel's modesty. Rickon is not Weasel's brother, and though they are both children, Arya does not find it necessary for her brother to stick around.
She dresses Weasel in a light pink sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans. Arya runs the towel through Weasel's hair, slightly envious when her light blonde curls fall perfectly across her shoulders, framing her face stunningly. Arya is amazed to see that there is neither a single knot nor tangle in her hair and the curls remain beautifully, frizz-free. She ties Weasel's hair into a single braid along her back and then proceeds to help Weasel with her footwear. Arya makes sure Weasel is fully dressed before tending to herself. She even dresses the girl in a dark pink winter jacket, so she will not catch a cold. After she is done, Weasel grabs her doll and runs off to the rest of the group.
After Weasel runs off, Arya proceeds to dress herself. Up until this moment, she has only been covered with a towel, and with her damp hair, she is freezing. With shaking fingers, she gently unties the belt strap from her leg. She fumbles quite a bit with the strap, frustrated that she cannot remove it sooner, but eventually she has it untied from her leg and sets her pistol aside. She runs the towel through her hair, drying it to the best of her abilities. She has chosen a pair of sweat pants to wear; they had once belonged to Bran, they are a bit too loose for her. She pulls at the strings and ties the pants tightly so it would not fall off her waist. She then dresses herself in a sweater. It hangs loosely off her thin frame, a bit of her right shoulder is exposed, as the stubborn garment will not remain on her shoulders, but there was no need to wear a bra with the sweater, and it keeps her quite warm. She then quickly dons on her socks and shoes before joining the rest of the group for lunch.
The shrimp tastes slimy and odd, uncooked. The meat slithers down her throat unpleasantly as she tries to consume it. It is better than eating raw fish though; shrimp is much easier to eat and came in smaller portions. Arya found that if she swallowed the meat and then washed it down with a large sum of water, the taste wasn't troublesome at all. The protein kept her full, and most importantly, it kept her strong.
As time passes, their day-to-day activities became routine. They catch an abundance of fish, but by the third day in, Arya's body is no longer capable of handling the raw meat, so she throws up. The vomit burns her throat as it makes its way up from her stomach. She bends over the side of the boat and spills all the contents of her dinner into the ocean. Her entire body jerks as a new wave of nausea settles through. By the end of it, her stomach feels hollow and her mouth tastes foul. Hot Pie advises her to nibble on some of the stale crackers until her stomach settles down. The mixture of the stale crackers and vomit is horrid, and Arya finds herself throwing up once more. It is surprising to see how much she heaves out of her system, though she had sworn she had purged her stomach of all its contents only moments ago. Now, more than ever, she desperately hopes that the wind would change directions and bring the group to a land free of Walkers, where they could build fires and cook food.
By the sixth day, she got her wish.
She is dreaming again. It was a Nymeria dream this time. She had not dreamt of her pet in a long time, and it was refreshing to be with her again, even though it was only in her thoughts.
The husky is much larger than she last remembers; she is as big as a wolf now. Though her dream is filled with Walkers, for once Arya is not having a nightmare. She watched Nymeria tear into the flesh of the Walkers before her and devoured them until there was nothing left of the corpses. The dream felt surreal, Arya could practically taste the blood on her tongue and she felt the undead flesh satisfyingly slither down her throat. Though she still fears the Walkers, Arya feels powerful to take down the mighty creatures so easily as her dog. With them so weak, utterly at her mercy, Arya momentarily forgot how terrifying they once were. Something feels amiss, though, and Arya could have sworn the ground was moving underneath her.
Ever so slowly, Arya was pulled out of her dream and feels the boat gently rocking beneath her. She shoves her covers off and gets out of bed, turning to see the sails up and the boat moving with the wind. Her eyes met Yoren's and she finds that he has a large smile plastered to his face.
"The wind's direction changed. We're heading east," was all Yoren said.
Arya remembers what Yoren had said about sleeping through the nights and not assisting Hot Pie, Gendry and himself with watch duty, but this time she could not help herself. She is much too excited and there is no hope in falling asleep now when she cannot contain her joy with the prospect of salvation. Arya makes her way to Yoren and leans against the edge of the railings. Finally, this boat is heading to a place where the group could build a new life for themselves.
Once everyone had awoken to see the boat now sailing in their desired location, everyone seemed to be on cloud nine. With the precipice of safety around the corner, almost nothing could tarnish anyone's mood. Even midday, when Arya was helping Hot Pie with the gruesome task of snapping the heads off shrimp, she did so with a smile on her face. With a turn of the dead creatures head, the reddish-orange ooze would spill out of the creature, staining the floor boards of the boat with shrimp blood. Arya would have to clean that up soon, but even that did not bring down her mood. She was elated. So close-
A shout - though it seemed to sound more like a howl - broke her of her concentration. She turns her head to look at Rickon as he screams and leaps up and down on the boat. "ARYA! ARYA! It's here! It's the Red Keep."
Arya immediately drops the lifeless sea-creatures from her hand and runs to the edge of the boat, while Hot Pie quickly rouses Yoren and Gendry, whom are still taking their afternoon nap. As Rickon had claimed, she could make out a large mass of land, in which their boat was sailing towards. This could be it, Arya thinks, if there are no Walkers, this could be our home.
Gendry, Yoren and Hot Pie quickly join Arya, Weasel and Rickon as they watch their boat sail closer and closer to land. Arya squints her eyes and she can vaguely make out shapes in the distance. Just as she is trying to determine what the shapes are, she hears a sharp intake of breath to her right.
"Walkers," Gendry whispers in horror, alerting the rest of the group of the dangers before them.
Arya feels her heart sink. No, no, not Walkers, she pleads. But as they sail closer to the island, she too could make out that the blurry shapes in the distance were indeed bodies. There were only three distinct shapes in the distance and Arya wonders if those were the only Walkers they would have to face. Perhaps this wouldn't be too bad. If they could survey the island and kill all the Walkers residing on the Red Keep, perhaps they could make this their home after all. As their boat sails even closer to the island, Arya had her speculations answered for her.
"Well, I'll be damned," she hears Yoren mutter, for there were no Walkers after all. There were bodies in front of her all right, but they lacked the empty electric blue irises, the cold dead black hands and the milky white skin. The bodies in front of her...were human. They are staring at them now, taking in the group with caution. They are all strangers, Arya concludes as she takes in their appearances.
There are two men and one woman. The woman has long-flowing blonde hair and she shares the same eyes as Arya. Unlike Arya, the woman has fully developed curves and a large bosom. She dresses herself in a leather vest and dark green cargo pants. Arya notices a well crafted blade hanging off her hip and a shot gun strapped to her back. Despite her feminine appearance, Arya can tell she is a warrior.
The man beside her was no man at all, Arya realises as they sailed closer. He is a boy that looked to be her age. He is small, with dark hair similar to Gendry's and dark brown eyes. Unlike the woman, he carries no weapons and he gapes at them as their boat trudged closer to land.
The other man is further away from the other two. He eyes the boat warily with deep blue - almost purple - eyes. He is of medium built with light blonde hair, gelled neatly upon his head. He too has a gun that he is holding it limply in his hands. He does not move to take it though and his eyes never leave the boat.
Arya hears Yoren curse as he scrambles to the deck, grabbing his shotgun and Arya's pistol. Arya is about to ask him what is going on, until she notices that the blonde woman has picked up her gun and is pointing the weapon towards them. Just as Yoren loads his shotgun and hands Arya's pistol to Gendry, another man enters the clearing.
He talks to the blonde girl and seems to persuade her to lower her gun. She does so reluctantly and there is a scowl plastered across her face, making her soft feminine features appear rather frightening, but Arya does not cower from her glare.
The new man has their back to them. Gendry and Yoren still have a hold of their guns; they have not raised their weapons yet, but they kept a firm hold on both weapons, waiting for the moment they have to fight, but it does not seem as if the land dwellers wish to attack them.
Arya eyes the new man, surveying her potential competition. He has curly brown hair, similar to her own, and it reaches his shoulders. He wears baggy jeans and a loose sweater. The sleeves were pulled back just under his elbows and Arya can see the outline of muscles through the material. He is not as muscular as Gendry, but he is still strong. Arya just hopes that her pack do not have to fight these strangers.
Suddenly, the man turns around and Arya's heart falters She feels as though her jaw was meant to drop at this moment but her brain cannot find the appropriate muscles to move her body. So she just stands there in shock, unable to describe the new feeling that overwhelms her. Their boat is almost ashore and Yoren is making the appropriate preparations to tow them to land.
Arya however, cannot peel her eyes away from the man. He is looking at her too, his eyes widened. She can make out the glistening of tears that threaten to emerge from his eyes and she feels the muscles in her heart coil. She wants to run to him, she wants him to hold her in his arms and never let go. The void in her heart slowly fills as grey meets grey.
Finally, the boat lands and comes to a standstill. Gendry and Yoren grab the guns and are ready to head outside, when Arya stops them. "No," she commands, stilling their movements.
"Arya, they have weapons," Gendry reasons. "It would be foolish to-"
"They won't hurt us," Arya states confidently, her eyes never leaving the man, making his way slowly towards the boat.
Arya exits the boat and she hears the rest of the group follow her lead. She jumps off the rail and plants her feet firmly on the sand and dirt below her. Her legs feel wobbly from being out at sea for so long, but she steadies herself, despite her body threatening to topple over at any moment.
The man stops when he is a couple of feet in front of her. He does not utter a word but stares at Arya with a mixture of disbelief, joy and love. Arya sees the tears spill from his eyes and she cannot contain herself any longer. "Jon," she calls, beckoning him to come closer.
As soon as his name leaves her lips, Arya finds herself encased in a pair of strong arms. She hugs him back tightly, suppressing the urge to jump on him, similar to the way she used to do when she was younger. She rests her head on his shoulder, her cheek pressed to his chin. His stubble tickles her, as his body shakes from the tears. Arya breaths in his familiar scent and wrapped her hands tighter around her brother.
"Arya," he finally responds, and that's all it takes for her to break down in front of him.
A/N:
I have been waiting to get to the arya and jon reunion for so long now and I'm thrilled that it's finally arrived! :D
And I know a lot of you are going to find me and kill me for that little Arya x Gendry almost kiss :/ and they were so close too... Anyways I know a lot of you have been asking me when Arya and Gendry are finally going to happen and let me start by saying that this is not a romance fic but an adventure fic. Arya and Gendry DO get together at some point because, yeah they're my OTP and I can't not write them together. But, the fic won't be centred around an Arya x Gendry romance. Yes there will be a romance but, its plot first and then romance on the side. So rest assured folks, Gendrya is coming. (teehee, see what I did there?)
Anyways, chapter 8 will get much more interesting, as we get to see who else resides on this island *wink wink, nudge nudge*
Until next time, ttyl my lovely people and hope you enjoyed that chapter.
