Sansa woke up to a tickling on her nose.

She peeped an eye open and saw the offender running the ends of her hair over her nose like a brush.

"What are you doing?" Sansa giggled. He smiled back and rubbed her cheek with the ends.

"Your hair's gotten so much longer since I met you," he said, pushing the lock behind her ear. She smiled.

"I quite like it short," She blew some of the looser strands out of her face.

"However which way," he said, running his fingers through her hair on the side of her head. "It's beautiful."

Sansa blushed. She pushed herself up and looked out the window.

"How long did we sleep?" she asked. The sky outside was dark, and snow had begun to come down.

"Whole day, I reckon." he rubbed his eyes and sat up. He reached out to Sansa, but she had begun crawling to the end of her bed.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she picked a simple linen dress from her dresser drawer. Stepping into it quickly, she pulled it up and let the laces fall loose. She wouldn't be gone long.

"I'm going to the kitchens," she said, grabbing the cloak from the hook. "I'm starving," She smiled over at him.

"Want to come?"

"No," he brought the furs up to his chin. "I'm perfectly comfortable." He wrapped himself in the fur and rolled over to her side of the bed.

"Have fun in the cold, darling." he called as she made for the doors.

Darling. She smiled as she pulled the door closed behind her.

They were cleaning up the kitchen when Sansa arrived, carefully pushing the back door open as not to let any snow in. The women's heads turned, ready to chastise whoever was interrupting their routine until they saw who it was.

"Your Grace," they snapped to attention. Sansa smiled at them as she lowered her cloak hood.

"Good evening, ladies." she smiled.

"Oh dear," Millie, the older woman, begun to wring her hands. "I'm sorry Your Grace, your brother informed us you wouldn't be attending dinner. If I had known you'd be down, I would have sent someone up with some food-"

"Please don't fret," Sansa made for the store room. "I didn't plan on sleeping so long. Would it be alright if I just took some back to my room?"

"Of course!" Millie said, frantically searching below a table top for a basket. She handed one to Sansa, who smiled and thanked the woman.

In the store room, Sansa pulled a few rolls of bread, some dried sausage, and a small block of hard, sharp cheese. She found a bottle of wine tucked away in the back and slipped it in with a two metal cups that sat on the shelf above. Just as she was about to leave, the smell of lemon wafted into her nose. Pulling back a small cloth, she found a small tray of lemon tarts. Sansa plucked two up and carefully put them into the basket, careful not to have the crust break.

She thanked the women and begged their pardon for the inconvenience. On the walk back, she gazed up at the Wing her guests were staying in. Some of the lights were still on, and she could hear children's giggling. She smiled to herself and made a note to stop by the next day. They must think her a terrible hostess.

Once she was back in the hallway, she half-heartedly shook the snow off of her before making for her chamber. Careful not to drop her haul, she balanced the basket on her hip and pushed the door open with her other hand. When she entered, a mass of fur sat up from the bed. The room was noticeably warmer, and Sansa saw that Gendry must have started a fire while she was running her errand.

"She returns," he smiled, and let the furs drop from the hood he had formed around his head to his shoulders. Sansa put the basket on the floor and removed her cloak, and quickly shimmied out of her loose dress. In her shift, she picked the basket up again and placed it on the bed, crawling up after it.

"Osha came by," Gendry said, a hint embarrassed. He reached over to the table beside her bed and retrieved a cup of tea.

"What is it?" he took a sniff.

"Moon tea," she said. She reached out and looped her finger through the handle, and brought the tea up to her lips.

"Ah," Sansa saw a flush of red fill Gendry's cheeks momentarily. She gulped the contents of the tea down, trying to ignore the metallic aftertaste.

"Blegh," she stuck her tongue out before letting the tea cup fall to the bed.

"What did you bring back from the war, then?" he said, his fingers reaching out to touch the basket. Sansa smiled and pulled the basket onto her lap and began to unpack.

"Well," Sansa pulled a napkin from the basket and lay it between them. "I raided a Dothraki settlement and found some horsemeat sausage," she pulled the links out, holding them up and letting them dangle triumphantly. She dropped it onto the napkin. "Then," she pulled out the cheese. "I sailed to Kings Landing and made a trade deal with Jon - three new trading posts on our borders for a block of cheese," She unfolded the cloth and held the cheese up for inspection, before placing it by the sausage on the napkin. "After," she pulled the bottle of wine. "I slaughtered a vineyard and mashed its inhabitants into a bottle,"

"My Warrior Queen," Gendry reached out and took the bottle from her hand. He began fiddling with the cork as she pulled the rolls out from the basket.

"And lastly," she smiled as she carefully pulled the tarts from the basket, placing them on the bed. "Lemon tarts."

Gendry smiled.

"Did you get a knife?" he asked.

Sansa paused.

"Shit!"

Gendry laughed and pushed himself up on his knees to move off the bed. Before he did, he placed a kiss on her forehead.

"The limits of the monarchy," he said as he reached into his shirt pocket. He flipped open a small blade and tossed it lightly onto the napkin.

"It's this quick thinking," she began to cut the sausage into small disks. "that makes you the best smith Winterfell has ever had."

"Oh really?" he pulled himself up onto the bed. "Is that all?"

Sansa blushed and continued to cut up the meat. "Well..."

Gendry smiled smugly, and reached over to the table for the bottle of wine. He pulled the cork out, and satisfying pop! quietly rang out. He reached into the basket and pulled the two cups, filling both of them. He handed one to Sansa, who took a sip immediately.

"So, you like lemon cakes." he said, taking a drink. "It occurs to me I don't know much more about you,"

Sansa smiled a bit.

"Well, you know that one thing,"

Gendry rolled his eyes.

"You'll not distract me again, witch woman." Sansa looked up at him and smiled in spite of herself. She wiggled her fingers at him like a sorceress, and let out a soft "oooooh".

"Tell me something," he said.

"What do you want to know?" she said, biting into the small sausage cheese and bread stack she had fashioned. Gendry reached out and took some sausage in his big hand. He popped one in his mouth while he thought.

"How about this," she said, covering her mouth as she chewed. "You ask and I'll answer. And we'll go back and forth."

He smiled. "Alright," he bit into the other slice of sausage. "Let's start out easy, then. Favorite color?"

Sansa rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face.

"Lilac," she said. "You?"

He watched her as she waited for his answer. She took a sip of her wine, keeping her gaze fixed upon him.

"I dunno," he said. A small smirk. "What would you call the color of your eyes?"

Sansa closed her eyes, simultaneously groaning at his response and quietly reveling in the fact that someone had said something to her so disgustingly romantic it could have been in one of her books.

"Sorry," he laughed. He reached out and grabbed some more bread. "It's true though. They're blue. Like deep sea water."

Sansa opened her eyes when she was sure she wasn't blushing like crazy. When their eyes met, he winked at her before biting into another stack on his bread.

"What's your favorite memory?" she said. He laughed.

"No easy ones for you, I see." he looked up at the ceiling, placing his hands on his knees. Sansa's eyes ran down his torso, following the coarse black hair until it disappeared under his waistband. She bit hard into the bread.

"There was one day," he looked back down, having retrieved his answer from whatever confines of memory the ceiling had allowed him to access. "My mother was still alive. She didn't have to work that day, and I just a little one. She woke me up early and we paid a man with a wagon to take us out of King's Landing. Once we were out, she led me down a path through the forest and showed me a swimming hole she used to go to as a girl," His eyes seemed far away, as if he was experiencing it all again. "We spent the day there. She had wanted to teach me to swim for a while, but she hated salt water. By the end of the day she would take me on her back and jump off the highest boulder, and we would plunge into the water. I wasn't scared because I knew she wouldn't let me drown. Even when we hit the bottom, and I felt her feet push off the ground, and we shot up to the surface. I must have begged her to take me down there again for a year after that, but we never could," his face fell a bit, saddened. "But that's probably it." Before Sansa could reach out to comfort him, he looked up and offered her what she knew was a performative smile.

"When you were younger, and you would play," he started. "What were you?"

Sansa bit her nail and tried to remember play sessions that seemed a millennium ago. Flashes of bright snow, giggles, and running feet all came to her mind.

"I would always want to be the princess," she remembered. "Arya would be my knight, and Bran would be my scout. He would climb up the walls looking for adversaries, and Arya would pretend to tackle any enemies. One time, we came upon Jon and Robb training, and Arya jumped in between them, trying to fight them both off to protect me." she smiled, remembering Arya's small but determined body jumping between the two boys.

"Always knew what you wanted to be, eh?"

A memory came to Sansa then.

"I think my favorite, though," she said, looking down at her hands. "Was when we were little, Arya and I shared a bed. On the nights we couldn't sleep, we would pretend the bed was a boat and the floor was an ocean. We would grab our blankets," she took a fistful of the fur on the bed, as if to illustrate a point. "And One of us would hold them up as the sail, while the other steered. We'd always be going through storms, and we'd fall over each other. We said the pillows were fish, and sometimes we would attack the other with one. 'A fish is in the boat!' and then, smack!" she clapped her hands. "Mother would find us sometimes and chastise us for staying up so late, but we kept doing it. Falling into giggling heaps after she left." Sansa ran her hand down the fur, feeling the bristles part for her nails. Arya.

Gendry carefully folded the food into the basket and placed it on the ground. Thinking he was going to try and comfort her, Sansa looked up, only to have a pillow come crashing down on her head playfully.

"Fish jumped up," he said. "Sorry, m'lady."

"Sorry?" Sansa said, letting her queenly voice take over. Gendry's face fell.

"I didn't mean to-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Sansa brought the pillow she had been leaning on over her head and smacked him across the face. Realizing what had just happened, he turned to his giggling bedfellow.

"Right," he said, reaching out to the top of the bed and grabbing another pillow. "You'll pay for that,"

Sansa giggled and jumped up, standing on the bed. She reached down and brought the covers up just before Gendry could swing his pillow at her legs. She pushed one hand against the blanket, tenting it against her.

"Ser Gendry," she said. "It looks like we're heading for a storm."

"Aye?" he said. He scooted to the front of the bed, and made a show off looking out over the expanse of her room. "Well, Lady Sansa, I believe you're right. I hope that - woah!" He lifted the corner of the bed and let it drop. He fell over in an exaggerated pose.

"Quick, for shelter!" She brought the fur down over them, and the suddenly everything was dark. Sansa pushed the furs up, letting a little light into the small shelter she had made. She saw Gendry smiling up at her.

"How long do you think the storm will be?" he asked innocently.

"Hours," Sansa said. "Days. Possibly weeks. We should stay here. For protection."

Gendry smiled and reached out from under the covers. He pulled one of the extra slats that Sansa kept under her bed and placed it in the middle of them so Sansa wouldn't have to hold up the fur. Then, he reached to the end table and handed her the bottle of wine, forgetting the cups they had left. Sansa wrapped her lips around it and took a gulp, and handed it back to him.

"My turn," she said. she lay down on her stomach, looking up at him. He was perpendicular to her, their faces meeting in the far left corner of their small blanket tent. She smiled and reached out to stroke his face. "Tell me about Arya. On the road."

It went on like this for the next few hours. Gendry told Sansa of all the memories he would scrape from his mind about traveling with her sister, eager to give her every bit that she desired. Part of him wanted to make something up, tell her that he knew she was alive, just to see her smile. But his story ended with their parting, and he admitted he had not seen her since. When he finished his story, Sansa lay, looking up at him lazily, with a drunk smile on her face. Gendry held up the bottle of wine and realized they had drunk all of it.

"She's alive still," she said finally. "I know it. Part of me...this is going to sound ridiculous, but part of me can feel it." she picked at her nails, embarassed by her claim.

"When my mother died," Gendry said, reaching out and capturing her hands in one of his. "It felt like something between us had been severed. The minute she stopped breathing, I knew. Even as they tried to revive her." He squeezed her hands in his.

Sansa's face gave a small smile before returning to its contemplative solemnity.

"Can I ask another," she said. She looked up at him. Her eyes were so, so blue.

"I believe that's breaking the rules," he playfully chided her. "But you are the queen."

She smiled before looking down at her hands, and then back up at him.

"Why are you here?" she asked. His face contorted in confusion.

"I believe there was an invitation of employment," he said. "not to mention certain events that took place last night that made me believe you'd like to see me again."

"I did- I do," she clarified before reaching up and running her fingers down his jaw. "But I mean...you're handsome. Clever. Good at what you do. Kind. Why spend your time with me? You could have any woman back in the North." She stopped and let her hand fall on his chest, feeling his heart beat under her touch. She kept her gaze focused on her hand. "Why me?"

Gendry reached up and covered her hand with his.

"Why you?" he repeated. He ran his thumb over the top of her hand. "How can you ask something like that?"

"I just," she sighed and closed her eyes. "I'm not- I'm broken, you know? Scarred up here," she let her other hand fall to her side. "and..." she gestured to her head. "I just don't..."

"Hey," he said, bringing her attention back to him. She blinked, trying to hold water back.

"You're asking me why I'm here," he said, letting his eyes drop to her lips. "but I can't tell you. Just like I can't tell you why the sun rises every day. You just...happened. And I thought, at first, when you were still Eryn," he emphasized his voice when he said her old name, causing her to smile a bit. "that you were just trying to get your rocks off. But...I don't know. That first night, when we stopped," he flicked his thumb over her hand again. "I saw something in you, I suppose. It's like when...well I suppose it's like being under a blanket." he tapped the top of their tent. "You think you're not seeing anything because it's dark. But then a corner flies up, and some light comes in. And you just want to crawl to the edge and see what you've been missing hiding away all those years." he looked up at her. "I can't explain how I feel about you because I didn't choose it. It just happened. But I will say this." He sat up then, taking the slat from the middle and pulling it out, letting the covers fall. He dropped the slat to the side, and threw the covers back off over their heads. Sansa's eyes blinked in the sudden light as she felt Gendry pulling her up to sit. When they were both cross legged, knees bumping together, he tipped her head up to look into her eyes.

"You're not broken," he said. "I've seen pretty much every inch of you, and I can't find any cracks. All I see," he ran his hand from under her chin and down her shoulder, trailing a path down her arm. "Is a woman who survived something horrible, and managed to come out the other side. How can you not see what I see?" he sighed, and let his hands fall on her knees. Sansa stayed quiet. "You're kind. And brilliant. And you're good to your people. I've never met a noble like you. You're brave, Sansa. And, it should go without saying, beautiful. Sometimes I wonder what you want with me. Every time I touch you, it feels like I'm running my hands over silk, or some other precious thing a man of my station would never be allowed to have." he smiled at her. "I think I should be asking you what you see in me,"

Sansa face softened, and she reached out to cup his face. He brought a hand up to cover hers and closed his eyes.

"You're a good man, Gendry." she said. "So many people have wanted me to fill a gap in their plans...wife her to get the North. Use her to topple a kingdom. Lock her up and..." her voice broke a bit, and she felt a reassuring squeeze on her hand. "You're caring, and sensitive, and bright. And when I'm with you," she bit her lip. "I'm not in my head. I'm too wrapped up in you to think of the past. All I want to do is listen to you talk, or watch you work, or feel your hands on me," she said the last one quietly, a bit embarrassed. "Even when you're not around, I'm better. Because I know you're out there," she jerked her head to the wall, indicating the forge. "And I feel safe. Because I know if I need the demons to stop, all I have to do is go to you. And you'll quiet them. Just by being...you."

He smiled up at her, and emboldened, she continued.

"I don't mean to put that on your shoulders. You're not in charge of making sure I don't fall into my own darkness. But since I've been back, no one has made me forget the way you do. Bran doesn't know what to say. Osha is great, but she's not...she's not you. I feel like I've been in Winter for so long, and being with you takes me into Spring," she cringed, thinking of how much that sounded like one of her old story books. Gendry smiled and began to lay back. He pulled her down, and she settled her head on his chest.

"Anytime it gets to be too much," he said, raking his fingers through her hair. "You can tell me. Or just come see me. Perch up on a work bench. Tell me about your day. Shitty meetings. Anything," he said.

"Safe harbor," she smiled against him.

"Yeah," he agreed, pulling her closer. They stayed silent for a bit, listening to the crackles of the slowly dying fire. Finally, Sansa lifted her head up and looked at him.

"Will you tell me more stories?" she asked.

"What, like fairy tales?"

She shook her head.

"I'm sick of fairy tales," she said. "Tell me more about you. Your mother."

He smiled softly at her.

"Would you like to hear about my first apprenticeship? I was twelve years, maybe, and this old drunkard..."

Sansa let her head fall against his chest and listened as he continued on. The real world didn't have chivalrous knights or kind, mannerly princes to save her from a tower.

But it had him.

And that was more than enough.

...

You wanted fluff? Where HERE. Here's a whole CARTON of fluff.