A/N: I'd like to take the time to dedicate this chapter to Veridissima and IrishJessy, who almost always take the time to review on almost every chapter I post. Their reviews may not be the longest and the most detailed, but it's always a nice sight to see that little notification on my phone's email telling me they reviewed on my latest chapter. This one's for you guys 3

"I hate this."

Sansa glanced up at Arya from her place at her vanity table where she was currently curling her hair and pinning them back in a very complicated manner. "You look fine, Arya."

Arya turned back to the mirror in Sansa's room, pulling at the dress again. What had she been thinking, agreeing to this dress? Now that she thought about it, the skirt was way too short underneath the see-through part and oh, my God her breasts felt like they were being flattened against her chest like she was eleven and underdeveloped all over again. It was impossible to be comfortable in this dress. The silver heels that she was wearing were digging into the soles of her feet and walking on a slant was not going to be a pleasant feeling for the night. She could barely stand still in front of a mirror, how was she supposed to walk around the room? Arya wanted to rip off the shoes and throw them at Sansa's head, tear off this ridiculously expensive and way too complicated dress and shove it back at the saleslady who had given it to them. She just wanted to change back into her pajamas and have a sitcom marathon on Netflix with a carton of cookie dough ice cream and whipped cream.

"Come here," Sansa said, exasperation coloring her voice as she stood up from her chair and walked over to Arya. She lifted the hem of the long skirt and tugged the shorter one down so it brushed Arya's mid-thigh. Then she bent down and unstrapped Arya's heels from her feet, loosening the straps that felt like they were trying to suffocate Arya's ankles until they were tied much more comfortably there. "You'll get used to the walking after a bit."

"I don't want to get used to it. I want to change."

"Arya!" Sansa threw her hands up in frustration.

"What?" Arya yelled back indignantly. "Can you blame me for not being happy with this right now?"

"This is my engagement party!" Sansa hissed at her, completely ignoring her sister's question. Though, in her defense, it was rhetoric. "I am getting married soon and this is the party that I have decided to throw to celebrate that. And you, as my sister and my maid of honor, should feel indescribably happy that I have found the person that I choose to spend the rest of my life with. So you can show up in sweats and a ratty t-shirt with your hair unwashed and unstyled or a ballgown designed by Vera Wang with the most expensive shoes ever for all I care, but you better show up to the party with your date because I am your sister and you should feel happy for me." Her face was red at the end of her speech, and she was breathing very heavily.

So Arya, feeling just a little bit impressed at her sister for standing up for herself like that, just tugged her skirt down a little bit more and walked out of the room.

She picks up her phone from her bed and checks it, feeling a small smile curl her lips up at the sight of the eight texts that Gendry has sent her in the past hour, all describing the various stages of stress he seems to have gone through.

Gendry: Arya, the suit is feeling a little tight and I'm scared I'll rip it.

Gendry: Oh no wait I got it it's fine. It's not ripped I promise don't tell your brother I almost thought I ripped his suit because I didn't okay.

Gendry: How do you tie a tie?

Gendry: Never mind, I looked it up on youtube.

Gendry: Do your parents know I'm coming to this thing in the first place?

Gendry: And why haven't you answered any of my texts?

Gendry: My god Arya you're giving me anxiety right now

Gendry: Just answer the fucking texts or I'm not coming

Rolling her eyes, Arya called Gendry, pacing her room as she tried to get used to the feeling of the heels.

"Fucking finally," was the response she got.

"Hello to you, too," Arya greeted Gendry on the phone, picking at a stray bead that had fallen loose on her bodice and was now hanging precariously from the string it had been sewn on with the others. "How's the tie going? Did YouTube help you?" she asked him as she chanced a look at herself in the mirror once more, fiddling with her hair with her free hand, which Sansa had styled into a waterfall braid.

"I am going to fucking kill you," Gendry said. "Why the fuck do people even have engagement parties? Just post a picture on Instagram and get married."

"You know," said Arya as she sat back on her bed carefully, making sure not to wrinkle her dress. "I was waiting for you to freak out, if I'm being honest. You seemed too calm about it all. I knew a freak-out would happen eventually."

"I hate you," he said simply.

Arya rolled her eyes. "Sure," she said blithely. "Are you ready, though? Because we're leaving as soon as Sansa is done with her hair." Arya's own hair was causing her to feel anxious; there were too many curls and pins done too intricately and she knew she'd have a huge headache when she undid her hair later on tonight.

"I'm ready. And I'm waiting here. At the shop. Like you asked me to."

"Good boy."

She could practically feel the frustration he was emanating through the phone, and Arya had to fight her grin was breaking through on her face even though she knew he wasn't able to see it.

"I'll be there to pick you up soon," Arya assured him kindly, letting a softness lace her tone so he knew she was truly grateful for what he was doing for her tonight despite his obvious discomfort.

Gendry sighed heavily on the other end. "Thank you," he said grudgingly, but Arya heard the same softness to his voice that Arya had given to him.

She hung up on him and walked back to Sansa's room, knocking once. "Come in!" Sansa called out, and Arya went in. When Sansa saw who it was, she scoffed lightly and rolled her eyes before looking back in her mirror. She was splitting her curled hair into two sections and sliding a headband on. She looked stunning, really, with her auburn hair curled perfectly and her makeup applied wonderfully. Her sleeveless light purple dress had a beaded round neckline with an empire waist and reached the floor in a loose and billowy skirt. As always, she looked beautiful, like the epitome of perfection. Despite her frustration with the situation, Arya felt a little droplet of happiness invade her mind. This was Sansa's night, at least until the actual wedding.

. . .

"Hey, Arya."

Arya was honest to God trying her hardest not to laugh. Up till now, she had only seen Gendry in jeans marked with grease smudges and t-shirts that used to be white but weren't any longer from overuse and dirt. And now she was seeing him walk out of the shop in Jon's suit, looking very uncomfortable and nervous. It seemed he had tried his best to tame his messy black hair but failed and given up because while the top looked decent, the sides were still unbelievably unruly. And he seemed to have no idea what to do with his hands. He had them in the pockets of the suit pants, and then he was wringing them nervously, but then he had them back in his pockets only to take them out and settle them at his sides forecefully, as if he was trying his hardest to get them to stay still. Arya felt like she was going to die from not laughing.

"You look. . .different," Arya commented, giving him a look as she crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

"Shut up," Gendry shot back, rolling his eyes. "You look very pretty."

Arya was taken aback by the sudden compliment. She hadn't been expecting one, and it wasn't unwelcome. She hid her smile as she turned her back on him and walked out of the shop, leading the way to the limo where her whole family was waiting and slid in the seat effortlessly while Gendry clambered in after her.

"You must be Gendry Waters," said Cat, giving him a quick up-and-down look.

Gendry looked like a fish, floundering for the right answer. Jesus, Arya thought to herself. She didn't even ask a question!

After a round of very stiff and uncomfortable introductions, Jon tried to bring Gendry into a conversation with Robb, and it seemed that Gendry had found the people he would be spending the majority of the night with. Robb and Jon were clearly attempting to lessen the tension in the air, but Sansa's back was ramrod straight and her mouth was pursed so tightly her lips looked like a thin straight line, and Cat kept throwing disapproving glances between both her youngest daughter and the date she had decided to bring.

"I understand you're also getting married soon," Gendry said to Robb, who was holding the hand of Jeyne beside him. Despite the easy tone of their conversation, Gendry was still clearly trying to make a good impression and therefore sounded much too formal.

"Yes, I am," Robb said happily, glancing at Jeyne with gleaming eyes. "Mid-September is supposed to be the date. We've been planning this for a while. It's nice to see the wedding coming closer."

"That's good," Gendry says, and then silence falls over everyone in the entire limo. Arya feels nerves of her own creep over her spine and around her throat, choking her until she feels lightheaded and all she wants to do is get out.

When they finally pulled up to the hall where the engagement party was being held, Arya nearly tumbled out of the limo in her desperation to leave and get inside so she could get some champagne in her system. She thought she deserved a very big drink at this moment.

Inside the hall, after Sansa and Joffrey had made their grand appearance, Arya collapsed into one of the chairs at the head table where the two families would be sitting. Gendry joined her after a few moments, but Arya didn't say anything to acknowledge his presence. She just sat and stared out at the sea of people who had come to witness the celebration of the announcement of the future union of her sister and her fiancee.

Engagement parties, Arya decided, were pointless.

"How are you liking the party so far?" Gendry asked as he watched Arya take a glass of champagne off a passing waiter's tray and take a long sip from it.

Arya shrugged, swirling the gold liquid around in her tall and elegant glass. "It's alright. Engagement parties are pretty stupid, though, don't you think? Like, it's basically a pre-wedding that you only have to show off the fact that you're going to have a real wedding in a few months. You might as well hold a big banner that says 'This entire party is just a way for us to show that we're so happy we're getting married soon but not tonight, so we're just gonna throw a huge party to announce that we're having our wedding in a few months'."

Gendry was trying not to laugh at the bluntness of Arya's tone. He had a feeling she might already be a bit tipsy, but he'd only seen her take one or two glasses of champagne during the entire night. "Arya," he said with a not-so-steady voice, "are you drunk right now?"

Arya glanced up at him from underneath her eyelashes, slumped down in her chair and one arm tucked underneath the elbow of the arm holding her current glass. "I might be a little tipsy," she admitted.

Gendry rolled his eyes. "You should really put down the champagne and start socializing," he advised her. "It's the best thing you can do."

Arya gave him a venomous look, but she slammed down her glass of champagne on the white tablecloth and stood up. "Fine. Then as my date, you should be coming with me," she told him. She took his hand in hers and started off to a large group of people.

Right before she made it, the oldest woman, a wrinkly old woman with intense eyes, turned and saw them heading their way. "Oh, Arya! How lovely to see you again!"

Arya let go of Gendry's hand to hug her and kiss her on both cheeks. "Gendry, this is Olenna Tyrell. She's the grandmother of my sister's best friend Margaery." As she spoke, she indicated a tall and beautiful woman with long brown hair and eyes that matched her grandmother. She looked very calculating, like she was trying to decipher every move everyone made. "And this is her older brother Willas," Arya said as she pointed out a man who was balancing himself on a crutch but smiled warmly at Gendry nonetheless. "And her younger brother Loras." Gendry made eye contact with a very handsome man wearing a white suit. It seemed only he was able to pull of white suits effortlessly. Gendry got the feeling that Loras could probably pull off just about anything.

After a short conversation with the Tyrells, Arya led him away and onto the next family she thought he should meet. "They're slightly less warmer," she warned him as the next group of people turned to look at them approaching. "You've already had the pleasure of meeting Joffrey, my sister's fiancee, but you haven't met his family. This is his father Robert Baratheon, our governor, and his mother Cersei." Cersei, Gendry decided, always looked like she was smelling something bad, but he tried to give his most pleasant smile to both of them despite his nerves. "And his brother and sister Tommen and Myrcella are right here. These are his two uncles, Stannis and Renly, who help run Baratheon Corp. This is Stannis's wife Selyse and his daughter Shireen." Gendry's eyes caught on the girl Arya told him to be Shireen. She had very long scars running up and down the left side of her otherwise beautiful face, but he forced himself not to stare. Arya caught him doing so, though, and her voice shook nervously as she continued. "And this is Cersei's father Tywin Lannister, her twin brother Jaime, and her younger brother Tyrion." Jaime was tall and blonde and handsome, but he had cold eyes that surveyed the room with a sharp edge, while Tyrion was. . .the exact opposite. He came up to Gendry's waist and he had two mismatched eyes that looked up at Gendry with an expression that seemed nice enough.

Gendry wanted to leave right now.

Around three hours into the party, Arya appeared at his side once again, sitting down in the chair across from him at the table they had been eating at. The dinner, Gendry thought, was probably the best part of the whole evening so far.

"Come with me," Arya told him.

Gendry eyed her curiously. "Why?"

"Because I have something very sweet for you," said Arya, her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

Gendry cautiously got up and followed her out of the large room the party was in, and was led around the entire hall, turning through sharp corners and walking up a flight of long, winding and twisting stairs before eventually stopping in a hallway that was a bit smaller but no less elegant than the other rooms they'd been through. Arya slid down the wall and sat up against it and Gendry followed suit. She pulled out a bottle of champagne from behind her back with a grin and a mischievous glint in her eyes, popping it open and offering it to him.

Gendry paused, his hand twitching, and eventually decided to take the risk. He took the bottle and took a long swig of it, passing it back to Arya after he was done.

"You wanna play a game?" Arya asked him temptingly as she leaned over to be closer to him on her hands and knees, eyebrows raised comically high.

Gendry gave her the side-eye, resting his elbows on his knees. "No."

Arya looked slightly disappointed. She got off her hands and knees and settled back against the wall, a pout decorating her lips. She drank repeatedly from the bottle and occasionally offered it to Gendry, snatching it right back from him after he finished.

"Where were you born?" Arya asked suddenly.

Gendry took the bottle out of her hands and answered without missing a beat. "Brooklyn. Born and raised. Still live there. But I work in Manhattan now."

"What about your parents?"

"My mom died. Never knew my father."

"Do you want to ask me a question?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because your whole life is already everywhere. I don't need to ask when the papers pretty much cover everything I need to know."

"If you think any of that stuff is true, you're stupid."

"I don't. But it's a lot easier than asking questions."

Arya didn't speak for a few minutes after that. She cradled the bottle in her hands like a child and occasionally took sips out of it but she did not speak. Gendry chanced a glance over at her and saw her eyes downcast, her mouth wearing a small but visible frown of confusion and disappointment. She didn't think he wanted to ask her questions because he wasn't interested in her.

Sighing heavily, he turned his body against the hallway's wall to face her. "What's your favorite color?" he asked.

Arya looked up at him with the hint of a smile playing at the edges of her lips, her eyes brightening. "Red."

"What about your favorite television show?"

"Friends. And before you ask, my favorite movie is The Godfather. And my favorite book is the Outsiders."

Gendry grinned at her answers. Maybe it was the alcohol going to his head or maybe he was just feeling as if he was in a dream right now, but he wanted to lean over and kiss her. And he had a feeling that she'd kiss him back.

Arya met his eyes, and they were cloudy and hazy with the heavy affect of alcohol while his were bright and aware despite him being a little drunk himself. She leaned over and her lips met his cheek in a soft brush of a kiss. Gendry felt the kiss all the way down to his toes even though it was barely even a touch. He was frozen but all he wanted to do was tip his head and turn it to the side so she'd meet his lips with his own. But he didn't dare. He only sat there, against the wall in this empty hallway they were hiding out in, and let her kiss his cheek softly. When she leaned back, her own eyes seemed clear again, looking at him with something fierce and urgent burning in her gaze.

"Arya!"

Arya's head whipped around and she saw Sansa running toward them as fast as her long dress would allow her to go. The skirt was flying out behind her, and her face was red and furious.

"What are you doing here? Everyone's wondering where you and your date were!" At this, Sansa turned to glare at Gendry and Gendry felt himself turn red. "Reporters are here. Your family is here. What were you thinking?"

Arya rolled her eyes and stood up, brushing off the back of her dress. "Jeez, Sansa, calm down. It's no big deal. We were just having fun."

They were walking back down the stairs to the main hall again, Gendry trailing after the two sisters currently arguing a few steps ahead of him.

"Just having fun? Arya, this is my engagement party! And you've ruined it with yet another scandal."

When they reached the door to the main hall, Sansa pushed it open with brute force and stalked away from them, finding Joffrey and giving him a soft kiss on the lips before whispering a few words in his ear. Arya and Gendry stood in the doorway by themselves, struck silent from Sansa's outburst, until Sansa returned to their side a few moments later.

"We're getting Gendry a cab home. It's covered on me and Joffrey. He's going now." Sansa folded her arms in a very unapologetic type of way and Gendry really didn't have any other choice but to nod and walk out.

"I'm really sorry for ruining your night, Sansa," Gendry said before he left without looking Arya in the eyes. Sansa just tipped her chin up at him, the only indication that she had heard and acknowledged his apology.

"Let's go back to the party, Arya," Sansa said tiredly, leading her younger sister away and not even noticing that she was glancing wistfully over her shoulder at the man who was currently walking away from her.