A/N: I want to first start off by saying how sorry I am that it has taken me so long to get this chapter out. I have had computer problems over the past weeks to where I lost everything I've written, every picture I've taken...everything that was on that computer. After two visits to the computer store, I finally had to break down and buy a new computer. That and real life has kept me from getting this out sooner, so I apologize! This story will never be abandoned, I assure you. Now, let's talk about this past Game of Thrones episode. I must say that I felt Gendry and Arya take my heart from my chest, throw it on the ground and stomp on it! I can't even begin to handle this season. We just watched our two favorite people crush each other in a matter of minutes, because that's what happened. The looks on their faces were absolute devastation. They tore one another a part and it won't be right again till their back together, which I feel will happen one day! Don't worry, I do not think we have seen the last of Gendry. Besides, If Edric Storm is not in the show, who do you think will fill that storyline...Gendry of course! And where does Edric end up in the books? That's right people...The Free Cities. Maybe one day he will help Arya find her true self again! "You wouldn't be my family. You'd be Milady!" Oh poor Gendry, you summer child!

Arya scrambled back as far as she could go, but she ran out of room. Vargo Hoat took a step towards her. For the last moments of her life, Arya watched the faces of her family run through her mind. Never again would she hear her brothers' laughter. Never again would she be able to hug Jon. Even the thought of never be able to quarrel with Sansa caused Arya a pang of sadness. She would die here in this darkened tent in the middle of nowhere.

"Entitled all your life, you have never known true fear till now have you, princess." His voice was quiet, yet Arya felt every word as if it were a whip slapping flesh.

He took another step towards, and she began frantically searching for some kind of weapon. If he noticed, he did not seem to mind. His eyes never left hers, and she dared not look away from him. The blade in his hand was still raised.

"I was going to take you back to my men, but you've angered me. That was not wise, princess," he said with mock heaviness in his voice.

Vargo Hoat took one last step towards Arya, closing the small gap between them. In one last desperate attempt to escape, she kicked her leg out towards his knee, but he had anticipated her move and dodged it easily. He reached down, grabbing her by the hair and pulling her roughly to her feet. Hatred dripped from his eye, liquor upon his breath. Arya watched, helplessly, as he brought the blade towards her neck to slit her throat.

The next moments happened in a sudden blur of movement. One minute Vargo Hoat held the blade to her neck and the next, he was flying across the room. Arya fell in a heap on the ground, her mind not understanding what was happening. She should be dead, yet her heart continued to beat. Her blood should be flowing from her neck, yet it continued to flow within her. She shook her head, trying to find her bearings. Arya searched for the man who wanted to murder her, yet her vision was obstructed by something standing in front of her. When her mind caught up with the here and now, she realized someone was standing in front of her, shielding her.

"Well, well, well...if it isn't the knight in shining armor," Vargo Hoat said, laughing.

Gendry stood between the crazed man and Arya, his sword in hand. He was crouched low, waiting for the attack to come. Vargo Hoat rose to his feet, his smile still plastered upon his face.

"My men are coming, and if you value your life you will put down your blade," Gendry warned.

"You will be dead before they arrive," Vargo Hoat hissed, charging. Gendry was ready, blocking his blow with his sword. The tent exploded with the sound of metal on metal, the sound deafening in the quiet darkness. The man tried to change their positions, tried moving Gendry from standing in front of Arya, yet he held his ground. The impact of Gendry's blows pushed Vargo Hoat back, yet the man would not give up so easily.

Again, he charged, going for Gendry's stomach. Gendry barely raised his blade in time to stop the lethal assault. This time it was Gendry that was pushed back, almost tripping over Arya. She scrambled from his path just in time, yet it opened a direct path for Vargo Hoat. He saw the path was clear and lunged for Arya instead. His hand barely brushed her arm before Gendry rammed himself into the man's side sending them towards the feather bed. They crashed into the bed, breaking it instantly with their weight.

Their blades went flying from their hands, and both men scrambled to their feet to retrieve them. It was Vargo Hoat who reached his first. He grabbed the blade and turned to strike Gendry. Arya did not hesitate, did not think of the consequences of her actions if she failed. She was on her feet in an instant, jumping on top of the man's back. She began pulling his hair and scratching every piece of flesh her hands could find. He screamed, reaching behind him to try and pry her off. She felt his hands grab her hair and knew she would feel pain in the next few seconds.

She was right. Vargo Hoat twisted her off of his back, sending her flying towards the ground. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, causing her side to explode in fire and pain.

"Bitch!" he yelled.

Arya tried desperately to scramble away, for she could sense him reaching down for her. If he placed his hands upon her again she would be dead. In his anger towards Arya, he had forgotten about Gendry, who had retrieved his sword and was charging. Vargo Hoat turned at the last moment, raising his blade on instinct.

Arya turned to watch the scene behind her, her eyes growing wide as she watched the man strike at Gendry. Though he was able to block most of the impact, the blade sliced into Gendry's shoulder.

"NO!" Arya screamed.

Gendry never screamed, only grunted, as the blood began to pour from his wound. With his good arm, he raised his elbow up and struck Vargo Hoat in the face. The impact was deafening as Arya heard the man's nose break instantly. Blood began to pour from his nostrils. He reached up to try and stop the bleeding, screaming in pain. It gave Gendry the opening he needed and with the end of his blade, he struck Vargo Hoat in the face again, causing the man to fall to the ground unconscious.

Arya watched Gendry stand above the man, his chest rising and falling faster than she had ever seen. His eyes were glossy, his teeth bared in hatred as he stared at the man at his feet. This was the Gendry that she had never seen. This was the warrior she had heard men tell tales about at night. She remained on the floor, as still as stone, afraid one wrong move would cause Gendry to turn on her, yet she knew he would never harm her.

It was then that the entrance of her tent flew open and the men flew in. They did not stop until the small tent was packed and uncomfortable. Some went straight for Gendry and an unconscious Vargo Hoat, while some went towards Arya. Before her vision was blocked, she saw Gendry fall to his knees, as if his strength had given out.

"Tie him up and take him to my tent. Have six men stand guard inside, while another ten stand guard outside. I want another ten men standing guard all around this tent right now!" Gendry commanded, yet his voice had lost some of it's strength. Without question, some of the men began to drag Vargo Hoat away.

"Fetch the Maester at once!" Hot Pie said. Two soldiers ran out of the tent to do as he had told them. The rest of the soldiers began to file out, going about their orders. Hot Pie grabbed Gendry under his good arm and helped him to his feet. The bed was destroyed, lying in a pile of wood and feathers. Instead, Hot Pie directed Gendry towards the only chair in the tent.

"I am alright, Hot Pie," Gendry said low.

"I am sure you are, but I would like to make sure," he answered back.

Slowly, Gendry's eyes turned towards Arya. She stood there, not knowing what to do, feeling her strength failing as well. How close to death she had been, yet death had not taken her that day.

"Not today," she whispered.

"Are you okay?" Gendry asked, his voice shaking slightly.

She could not answer him with words, afraid that the slightest movement of her lips would cause her to explode in tears. She would not cry, would not show weakness. Instead, she nodded her head yes. Her eyes darted towards his shoulder, his flesh exposed. She could see a large gash just close to his collar bone, yet she could not tell how deep it was. All she could see was the blood pouring from his wound.

Arya searched around her room, desperate to find some piece of cloth she could use. Lying beside her destroyed bed was a scarf that belonged to Sansa. She did not hesitate to rush to it. Grabbing it, she turned and walked towards Gendry. Their eyes met, and with her eyes she asked his permission to do what she felt she needed to do, although even if he would have objected she would have done it anyway. Gendry was losing too much blood. He nodded his head, answering her unspoken request.

As gently as she could, she laid the scarf on top of the wound. Gendry hissed and jerked away, yet Arya did not let him go. She grabbed his arm, keeping him still as she applied more pressure. He clamped his eyes shut, clenching his jaw hard. The more pressure she applied, the more she noticed beads of sweat popping out on his forehead. He was struggling to keep his composure, to keep his pain inside. Arya hated she was causing him so much pain, yet she knew her plan was working. The blood had stopped pouring down his arm, yet she could tell the scarf was beginning to become soaked. It was too much blood.

"Hot Pie, please go and get some water," Arya asked softly.

He turned and left without another word, leaving Arya and Gendry in the tent alone. The air was thick, the silence deafening. Arya stared at the scarf, watching it continue to turn red with Gendry's blood. When she looked upon his face, she could see it turning white. His eyes looked distant, glazing ever more by the second. She knew he was about to pass out and she needed him to stay with her.

"Talk to me," she whispered. Clearing her throat, she spoke louder, almost harshly commanding him. "Gendry, I need you to talk to me."

He opened his eyes, looking up at her. His lips twitched, trying to give her a smile. "I...I'm fine," he said weakly.

The blood had spread passed the scarf and was now soaking into Arya's hand. She watched it, hypnotized for a moment, before she felt Gendry shift. He leaned forward, resting his head upon her stomach. She felt his body relax, felt him grow still.

"Gendry, no!" she said desperately, pushing him backwards. He flopped back like a rag doll. His eyes, which had become hooded, looked up at her again. Without thinking, she leaned in and placed her lips upon his. It was the only thing she could think of to keep him awake, to keep him thinking.

At first, there was no response, just the feel of his chest expanding one long time. She deepened the kiss, begging him to respond, begging him not to give in to the darkness. She had a horrible feeling that if he went unconscious he would not awake.

"Kiss me, Gendry," she whispered against his lips. It was not a command, but a plea.

Suddenly, his lips began to move with hers. She felt the softness of his skin, felt the warmth within them and she took comfort in that, for the coldness had not set in yet. He was still with her. Their lips moved as one, pressing against one another, soft at first, yet the pressure began to grow.

As if the kiss gave him new strength, Gendry reached around with his good arm and wrapped it around Arya. She welcomed this new found closeness with him, sliding in between his legs and wrapping one arm around his neck. He deepened their kiss, responding to Arya and what she was trying to do. His tongue pressed against her lips, begging for entrance. Arya allowed him in immediately, tasting him. Gendry's arm around her waist tightened, showing Arya he had not lost all of his strength.

Though she did not won't to break the contact, Arya knew they needed to breathe. She leaned back slightly, yet she did not quiet move her lips away from Gendry's. She could not stop her eyes from looking towards his wound. The moment she saw the blood dripping from her arm, she flinched.

"Too much blood," she whispered to herself, yet Gendry had heard her.

He looked down at his wound, grimacing. "I will be fine," he said weakly. "Are you alright?"

Arya had forgotten all about her wounds. Her side was still on fire from where Vargo Hoat had thrown her down to the ground. She felt exhausted and sore, but that was the least of her worries at the moment.

"You saved me...again," Arya said.

Gendry smiled weakly, nodding his head. Though he looked drained and weak, his eyes began to blaze with life again. "I will always protect you," he responded quietly.

Before Arya could respond, the Maester and Hot Pie hurried into the tent. If either man noticed the position that Arya and Gendry were in, none spoke it a loud. The Maester's attention was solely on Gendry and the blood running from the wound. Arya stepped back, giving the man room to work. He took the scarf from her hand, moving it back to get a good look at the damage. The moment the scarf was gone, the blood ran freely down Gendry's chest.

"Help me remove his shirt," the Maester commanded Hot Pie.

The men went to work, tediously removing Gendry's ruined shirt from his body. The movement caused Gendry to hiss and grunt in pain. Arya stood by helplessly watching the scene. She wanted to do something to help, but she did not know how.

"If I do not close up this wound immediately you will bleed to death, Sir Gendry. I could retrieve some Milk of the Poppy, but I fear the more time that passes the worse it will be for you."

"Do it," Gendry growled through clenched teeth. The Maester did not waste time, but began to ready himself for sowing up Gendry's wound.

Gendry looked at Arya, as the first stitch was put in. Again, his jaw clenched so tightly that Arya feared his bone would break. His eyes watered, yet not a tear fell. His hands balled into fists, as if ready to strike. With each passes stitch, his grunts grew louder, his jaw more clenched. Arya could not help each flinch that shook her as the needle passed through Gendry's flesh. He was doing this without a single drop of something that would dull his pain. The only positive that Arya could see was the fact that the blood grew less and less, until the final stitch was placed and no more of Gendry's blood was spilled.

It felt like an eternity for the Maester to complete his work. The old man cleaned his hands and inspected his work. With a nod of his head, he showed his approval that all was well. "Your shoulder will be very sore, Sir Gendry, but I will give you a small dosage of the Milk of the Poppy to help with that. You have lost a lot of blood, too much in my opinion. I fear that if I would have been only minutes longer you would have bled to death. You must rest for now."

"I'm fine," Gendry argued. He did not heed the Maester's words and tried to stand. The moment he was on his feet, he began to sway. If not for the Maester and Hot Pie catching him, Gendry would have fallen to the ground. They sat him back in the chair, his face growing white once more.

"Rest!" the Maester said more forcefully.

When he was assured Gendry would not stand again, the man turned his attention towards Arya. "May I have a look at you, My Lady?" he asked.

Arya nodded her head, and the man took a step towards her. With frail, yet strong hands, he lifted her chin up to check the bruises upon her face. "I am fine, just some soreness. He had no chance to cut me," she said low. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gendry flinch at her words.

"Thank the gods for Sir Gendry, I must say," he responded.

"I agree," she said, turning her eyes towards the man they were discussing. This time, she saw a small smile upon his face. The color was coming back to his cheeks, though his eyes still held that glazed expression. It had been a close call for both of them, too close.

"You can use my tent to rest, Gendry," Hot Pie offered.

"I do not need to...," he began, but Arya cut him off. "Yes you do, and so do I. I do not want to be alone right now, Gendry. Let us both go and rest."

Though it would cause some to talk if they were to be seen entering the same tent together and not coming out for a long time, Arya did not seem to care at the moment. She knew that if she were to go with Gendry, he would not fight it. He did not answer at first, just stared as if thinking it over. Finally, he gave her a slight nod.

With Hot Pie's help, Gendry walked towards the boy's tent. The moon hung high above their heads. Arya had no idea how much time had passed since Vargo Hoat had entered her tent. It was in that moment, walking towards Hot Pie's tent, that the thought of her sister and the other women hit it.

"Where is Sansa, Beth and Osha?"

"They have retired to Sir Cleagan's tent. He has also given up his tent for the ladies to rest. Sir Cleagan is standing watch over the filth Hoat!" Hot Pie spat.

"I want to be notified the moment he awakes, Hot Pie. There are some questions I would like to ask that scum," Gendry said, his voice tired.

They entered the tent and Gendry went directly for the small bed. He sat down hard, jostling his shoulder, and hissed in pain. After a few moments, he laid back upon the pillow, closing his eyes and breathing a long sigh. Arya gave Hot Pie a thankful smile as he passed her to leave.

Arya searched the tent for a blanket or something she could use to lie upon the hard ground. Glancing at Gendry, she saw that he had put his good arm over his eyes. His chest rose and fell softly. She hoped he was asleep, for she knew he needed it. Not finding a single blanket to lie upon, Arya began to lay down on the hard ground. She did not care that she would have to lay here, for Gendry needed the bed more.

"If you think I will allow you to lay on the ground while I'm up here you are sorely mistaken, Arya," Gendry said softly.

"You have been badly hurt, Gendry. I will be fine, I asure you."

He removed his arm from his eyes. With one eye opened, he stared at her. "My mother taught me better," he said, moving over in the bed. "Come."

She stared at him for a moment, then looked upon the small space on the bed. He was asking her to sleep with him, though she knew he meant only to sleep. Still, the thought of lying in bed with Gendry caused Arya's stomach to flip-flop.

"Please do not force me to make you join me, Arya. I fear I do not have the strength," he said, his voice playful.

Arya rose to her feet and walked slowly towards the bed. Though she did not have a lot of room, it was enough that she could be comfortable. She climbed in beside him, careful not to move him too much. As soon as she was settled, she felt his arm snake around her back and push her towards him. Gendry held her against his chest, more tightly than she thought he had strength to do. His chin rested upon her head as his wounded shoulder rested upon a pillow propped up.

For a moment, Arya laid frozen. She did not know what to do, did not know how to lay with a man. Where did she put her arm? Around his chest?

"Relax, Arya. We are only going to sleep. I will not allow you to sleep upon the hard ground, but there is no other option but to share the bed with me. If you are too uncomfortable I will find another suitable place to sleep."

She did not want that. She wanted to be here with him, just like this. Her body began to unwind, and she slipped her arm over his chest, snuggling up to his side. His warmth engulfed her immediately, keeping the coolness of the night away. His heart beat slow and steady, a sign of his life and that death, too, did not feel the need to take him on this night. Before she knew it, she felt the weight of sleep upon her. Her eyes grew heavy and she sighed in contentment.

"Tomorrow, we have a lot to discuss, Arya."

"We do?" she said, half asleep.

She felt Gendry nod his head. "I realized something tonight, something after that kiss. Would you like to know what it is?" he asked her softly.

"Mhm," Arya answered, almost asleep.

She felt him shift, felt his lips at her ear, his breath tickling her skin. He inhaled deeply, as if preparing himself for something big. This caught Arya's attention and she found herself waking a little more.

"I have realized that I would do anything to protect you. I would give my life for you if that is what it took to keep you safe. The moment you kissed me, every barrier crumbled within me. Everything that was keeping me at arm's length to my feelings for her evaporated with just the slight touch of your lips. I knew in that moment that I was completely in love with you and there is nothing I could do to stop it."

Arya's eyes went wide at hearing his soft words. She opened her mouth to say that it was too dangerous, that it would never work. She wanted to shut out what he had said, for she had finally come to terms with the fact that they would never be together. His words were of ill timing, yet when she spoke it was none of these things. When she spoke, her heart spoke for her.

"I love you to," she whispered in the darkness.

A/N: Alright everyone, don't think our little lovebirds are out of the woods...ohhhhh no! There is more action and danger to come, particularly in the next couple of /chapters. Get those reviews coming! Thanks.