A Future We Would Make Ourselves

By littlelights

Disclaimer: I am not making any money, blah, blah, blah.

XxX

Chapter Seven

Ser Davos, who'd been privy to many things in the service of two kings, had never encountered any sort of marriage request. Not for Stannis, who had been long married, nor for Princess Shireen. The King in the North, however, had two eligible sisters. Given her previous marriages and abuse while wife to Ramsay Bolton, there had been no reason to ponder the possibility of another union for Lady Sansa.

The younger girl, Arya, was another matter entirely.

It was well known noble marriages were not about love, but rather an acquisition of family prestige and power. In the worst cases, it mended old wounds and renewed alliances. Having seen first-hand the rise of Gendry Baratheon, it was clear the young man had become confident in his position to seek the hand of the king's sister. If it was out of politics or something else remained unclear.

"Marriage this close to leaving?" Ser Davos asked calmly, buying time with the question. "M'lord, I don't wish to sound indelicate, but if you have a need that's not being met, arrangements can be made to sate it."

"I was born a bastard, Ser Davos." Lord Genry replied flatly. "I know how they're made, and I want no part of it. I'm not my father. Any children I have will have my name or I'll have none at all."

The king, who'd watched and encouraged the rise of Lord Gendry at the queen's court in Dragonstone, looked at the younger man with an intense gaze of disbelief and wariness. There was no anger to his words when he responded, "We're at war. This isn't the time to think about marriage."

"With respect, y'grace. I disagree."

A brave response, and certainly not reckless.

Jon Snow didn't appear to be angry or irate, but Ser Davos remembered the king's constant worry for Lady Arya when news reached him of her reappearance. Part of him had been appeased, but the death of his youngest brother meant he wouldn't be at ease until he'd seen to his sister's safety at first hand. It was rare to see the king's calm demeanor crack under the weight of his words, but the concern and protection of his beloved sister made him suspicious of any change to the status quo.

"You've been here, what, a matter of weeks?" The king said, "And you want to marry my sister? After all she's been through, she's finally home. Safe at home with her family-"

"I know," Lord Gendry interrupted, not unsympathetically.

The king continued, words rushing from his lips laced with years of care, concern and frustration, "And you're asking this now? Why? I just got her back."

The stag lord's voice was strangely tight. "So did I, y'grace. So did I." The immensity of his words, and the truth of them cooled the upheaval in the room.

Ser Davos took a different approach, remembering how he counseled his own son on the intricacies of such a request. "Does her ladyship know about your interest?"

Gendry shook his head. "I wanted to ask for his grace's blessing before asking her. I wanted nothing in our way."

"Well, joining houses in a time of war, it's not an unusual request by any means, your grace." Ser Davos stated. There was no need for such an alliance, but it could prove useful. "A marriage between Lord Baratheon and your sister could strengthen an image of unity among the northern and southern houses."

Just as those ideas began to look appealing, Lord Gendry said "I don't give a damn about joining houses, Ser Davos, but if would convince the king of my honorable intentions, I'll agree to whatever you say."

"Honorable?" The King in the North looked at Gendry incredulously. "You traveled with her from King's Landing through the Riverlands when she was ten. It's been a long time since then. Three weeks ago, you saw her for the first time in six years. I turned a blind eye to whispers of the two of you because I knew she could handle herself and I felt she deserved a little happiness. You've kept her honor, I hope. If you haven't, there will be consequences."

Consequences for you. The words went unspoken.

"I've kept both her honor and mine intact," Gendry affirmed.

That statement did nothing to assuage Jon's mind. "Winter has come, my lord. You'd leave her, possibly carrying a babe inside her to raise alone?" The king queried.

"She would have the protection of my name and our child would have Storm's End." Gendry supplied. "Even without an heir, she can have my estate. All of it. I don't know the legal end to it, but I'd sign an agreement right now giving her Storm's End if I don't come back."

Ser Davos watched the tension between the two men break a little.

"There's no one else, y'grace. I can promise you that. I don't need anyone, and don't want anyone else." Lord Gendry reinnervated. "I just want her. Yes, she's a lady, and in some ways, she's not. I'd never try to change her to be something she isn't. She'd be free to do as she pleases, whether it's carrying a sword or training soldiers."

"You're right," Ser Davos said. "The lady can take of herself. But, in light of her sister's unfortunate marriages, you can understand the king's reluctance."

Gendry nodded "I can promise you, I'd never hurt her. I'd let her knock the head from my body before I'd ever raise a hand to her. I've protected her and she's protected me. I trust her more than anyone. That's why I want to marry her."

Ser Davos watched, there was love there, it was easy to see. And given the lad's prior experiences with the opposite sex, it was apparent he was intent on someone he could trust to share his life and his bed. It made sense. And as he wasn't about to change the lady in question, that should count for something.

The younger man's words struck a note in the king. "You love her." It wasn't a question. "It's not just infatuation?"

"She's all I want," the younger man said simply.

The king nodded, rose from his seat, and walked slowly to the map on the table, deep in thought. After several long moments, he strode back to meet Lord Baratheon head on.

"I told her we'd stay together," the king began. "We're stronger together as a family. Winter has come, and we cannot be divided."

"I'm not here to separate you. We'll stay here as long as she wants," Lord Gendry replied. "She's a Stark of Winterfell. This is her home, I won't force her to leave during the long winter. If we come out of this war, I'll ask Lord Tyrion to find a steward for Storm's End until the snow melts."

"It could be a long time." The king cautioned.

"I'll have a wife and a family for the first time in my life. Believe me, I won't be in any hurry to leave."

XxX

"You asked Jon for permission to marry me." She said quickly, anger biting each word. "For his permission."

Gendry had hoped she'd take it better than this. They were near one of their favorite places on the battlements, far away from prying eyes and gossiping tongues.

"I asked for his blessing," he countered. "He's your brother, and I respect him. I didn't want him to think I went behind his back. He said it was up to you, and I'd have to honor your decision. He knows both of us enough to say we'd suit. "

"I won't be bullied into marriage just because the two of you want to join houses," the harsh tones of her voice filling the room. "It's my life, and I make my own choices."

"Jon knows better than to make you do something you don't want to," Gendry spoke calmly. "And I don't give a damn about joining houses. We don't need an alliance. We're all together to defeat the undead army on our doorstep. I don't need to marry you. I want to marry you." His last words came out in a rush.

The confession shocked her, he could see it in her face. He pushed on, "If we win this war, everything is going to change. The smallfolk who had nothing will have a voice and protections from those who'd harm them. The nobles will have to work for the good of the realm. The queen wants people to lead and govern, as heads of houses or in her council. It'll be a future we would make ourselves, and we'll make it right for everyone."

"A utopia then," Arya nearly spat. "I don't trust the queen to keep her word. What's to stop her from doing what she pleases when everyone goes home and the fighting's over? People like her, people with power, do not give up that easily. I've seen it! You've seen it! If you believe what she says you're a fool!"

Gendry went very silent. He spoke slowly, meeting her eye to eye, and pulling her close. He did same thing when they were younger, when there was something important which needed to be said.

"There are only two women in this world I trust," he said. "You and Daenerys Targaryen. I have pledged my forge, my hammer, and my house to the Queen's service. That's how we'll win this war, with folk united in loyalty. To you, Arya, I would pledge everything."

"I told you, I don't want to be a lady." Her eyes furrowed in anger with her voice. "I'm not milling around wearing pretty clothes and dancing."

Gendry held her tighter. "Then don't. I don't care if you wear dresses or trousers, or how you spend your day doing needlework or sparring in a tiltyard. You don't have to be anything other than what you are."

She was still angry, he could feel it in the strain of her body. "I never wanted to be the lady of a house. It isn't me," Arya said.

"And you don't have to," he countered. "Our house will be what we want it to be. You led the Brotherhood without Banners, I think you can lead a holdfast. I've got to train new apprentices and keep the forges going for the queen. We'll help the small folk and bannermen who need it. Neither of us will be idle I imagine."

She wasn't satisfied. "Who'll take care of the other things? The household stuff -"

"We'll hire someone." He interrupted. "There are plenty of women who are good at that sort of thing. We'll tell her what we like and don't like, and let her at it."

It seemed practical, Arya acknowledged. She had some skill with reviewing accounts with her sister. Someone else could take care the management.

Arya was quiet for a moment, looking thoughtful. "Children." She said simply. "Marriage means children. If I have them..." Her voice tapered off, and the immensity of her words filled the room. The idea of little girls and boys not yet born. She was sure neither herself nor Gendry gave much thought to having children in their youth, now the possibility of it was downright uncomfortable. The memory of her father's words came to mind. His voice had been warm, and gentle, and kind. 'You will marry a high lord, and run his home, and your sons shall be knights, princes, and lords,' and her response had been 'That's not me.'

Her poor father, one of the few people who knew how to talk to her, and always allowed her to run a bit wild. All because he loved her, and how her spirit reminded him of his sister Lyanna. He provided her lessons with Syrio Forel because he knew she wanted them. He laughed when she chased cats through the citadel. He hugged her with relief after she'd gone missing in the keep. Yoren told her how her father saw her kneeling on the statue of Balor, delivering a plea to the old night's watchman to fetch her and keep her safe. The last act of a father who wanted to see his beloved daughter delivered safely home.

She felt that love acutely, more so every day since she came home. She'd rebelled, she survived, and that spirit her father loved so much saved her life.

Gendry had protected her, teased her, and supported her too. Even in their worst moments, he put her well-being first. To be directly connected to that amount of care humbled her.

He was collecting himself, searching for the words that would reach her before she pulled away. "Our children, if and when we have them, can do what they like." He said earnestly. "They want to swing a sword, they'll have you. They want to raise a hammer, they'll have me. Even the girls. Whatever they like, Arya. They'll be whatever they want." He kissed her softly on the head.

She almost broke then, the slits of her eyes watering. Arya buried her head in his neck, rubbing the tears from her eyes into his neck. Gods, it was all she ever wanted. All she ever wanted for herself, and for every little girl who'd been just like her.

Gendry hugged her close, raining a few more kisses on the crown of her head. He tried to lighten the moment, give her a chance to relax. "Give me a home full of girls who can do that fancy swordplay of yours. They'd be unstoppable. The boys, well, they'll be too frightened of their sisters to pull their braids now, won't they? Teach them all how to shoot, how to ride, how to fight, how to read. Show them how to be good and fair. And if they want to learn more, we can send 'em to good people who'll show them what they want to know, teach them what they want to learn. Not that I'd want to send all of them away, mind, but if we do get a pretty little maid whose intent on needle work we could always ship her off to your sister."

Arya almost laughed. She hid her smile in the hollow of his throat, kissed the warm skin there, and felt his body heat with response. One hand reached up to bring his face to his, and he kissed the tender areas of her eyes, her brow, then her nose. He stopped and bent his forehead to hers, cupping her cheek and holding her close.

"I've never had a family, and I always wanted one." He said, strength and gentleness directing his voice, "Years ago, you said you wanted to be my family. I'm asking you now, be my family. Be mine, Arya. Marry me."

Gendry was one of the few people in the world she trusted after all the harrowing events of the past. He wanted her the way a man wanted a woman. She could feel that in the hard center of his trousers. And he wanted her for in the way she wanted to be. That trust sealed her course.

She lifted her toes and kissed him deeply in response, folding her arms around him and inhaling the scent of him. She could feel the solid warmth of his chest and back beneath his clothing, and the strength of his arms holding her close, not like a cage, but in comfort and stability.

Through all the dangerous plots and hardships unnumbered, she never thought she'd want this again. This closeness, this warmth, it made her think of the golden sunshine of her youth.

She let go of his lips, giving him a soft kiss at the end, and opened her eyes. He'd opened his, giving her a look of need and anticipation that made her go soft in the head. She smiled slightly then, giving herself over to the warm rush of emotion in her heart. "Yes," Arya said softly, "I'll be your family." She kissed him again, choosing what she wanted instead of what was expected, and gave herself over to joy.

XxX

Thanks for reading. Please leave a review!