Dinner had been awkward, at least for Arya. Sansa demanded that she sit at the head table next to Meera Reed, Sandor on the opposite end next to Sansa. She had decided that her sister had officially taken capture of her child, and she probably was not going to get him back.

Meera Reed, Arya decided, was the best conversation partner Arya could have asked for. She said nothing of men and talked with Arya on battle strategy the whole time, Bran sometimes adding his two sense about what would work and what would not.

But other than that, Arya was highly uncomfortable. Her sister had done her hair in some simple northern braids, but it still felt like too much for Arya. From another table, Marlena Baratheon kept whispering to her brother, glancing over at her while Gendry did not even raise his head. He was polite to the other lords and ladies, yet did not even glance in her direction.

After the meal was done, Gendry excused himself from his table, muttering something to Marlena, who seemed to protest slightly, before walking out.

"Excuse me," Arya said to Meera.

Meera nodded and Arya walked over to her son and crouched down next to him. "Hey, I'm going to step out for some air. Go either with Aunt Sansa or go find Podrick when you want to leave. I'll be up to tuck you into bed, okay?"

He nodded, and she planted a quick kiss on his forehead before going to find Gendry.

After getting outside of the castle, she knew the exact place that he would be. Getting closer to the Smithy, Arya could hear the sounds of metal on metal.

She sighed deeply, trying to muster up the courage before walking in, leaning against the door frame as she so often did.

There were a couple of men in there as well, but not many. Gendry sat on the bench, carving a beautiful direwolf pommel. He didn't notice her, which suited her fine. She loved watching him carve.

He had shed his leather vest as well and now stood there in only his yellow undershirt, the ties undone. She tried not to think to herself about how delectable he looked, but it wasn't that easy.

"Don't you have something better to do?" he said, still not looking in her direction. The familiar phrase made her smile slightly.

"I didn't think you saw me."

"You're not as sneaky as you think," he muttered. Gendry knew where she was at all times if she was in the same vicinity. His heart would always give a little tug in the direction she was in. It was an Arya detector, he used to think.

"I doubt that."

"Well, you're definitely more conniving than you think," he snapped, walking over to the forge and placing the pommel down.

Arya blinked, surprised at his words before the anger started to pool up in her. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I think you heard me."

"And I think that you should be a little more careful with your words right now."

"What are you going to do, kill me?"

"There are things worse than death."

He turned sharply and looked at her for the first time, his eyes of the sea dark with remnants of a storm. "Yeah, there is."

"Like what, Gendry? Go on? Say what you want to say."

Gendry looked at the other men in the forge who were staring at them. He waved his hand at them and they put down what they were working on and walked out.

"Oh, look at you with all the power..."

"Shut up, Arya!"

She did. She didn't know if it was his raw, commanding voice or that he used her name. He had only used it three times to her in her entire life. It was usually Arry or m'lady. The first time he said it was in panic when she went after the hound. The second was the night that they had made love before the White Walkers. Now? It frightened her but sent a thrill down her spine at the same time.

He sighed and wiped the sweat off of his forehead, leaning on one of the posts. "I cannot believe you."

Arya was about to make a comment but stopped herself before she did. She swallowed hard and sat down on the bench.

"How could you not have told me of Sandor, huh?"

For that, she had no answer. She hung her head low, pressing her lips tightly together. "I'm sorry."

"You should be," he snapped. "You should have told me the second you knew."

"I didn't know when I left," she said dismally, hoping that would excuse her behavior slightly.

"Did you not get raven's where you were?"

"Kind of..."

"Kind of?"

"Well, not for the last year. We were too far."

"But when you knew about him, you had ravens."

It wasn't a question, Arya knew that. She decided not to say anything.

Gendry let out a cruel laughed and turned so he wasn't looking at her. "You're unbelievable."

"Gendry..."

"Don't. Just don't." He sighed and leaned against the post again, his hands laced behind his head. "Because of you, I missed out on so much with Sandor. I missed out on your pregnancy, his birth, his first word and steps, everything. And fucking Podrick Payne got to witness it all."

"Don't bring Podrick into this."

"Why the hell not? He's not being brought into this, he is in this! He got to raise my damn child and lay with my woman!"

"What?!"

"Don't deny it," he warned. "I'm not as stupid as you think I am. I see the way he looks at you. He looks at you as if he knows what is underneath your armor."

Arya was at a loss for words and just stood there with her mouth open. "Gendry, I-"

"Am I wrong? Am I wrong?!"

"Mostly?"

"Mostly. What kind of answer is mostly? Mostly. Tell me, Arya, what mostly means, cause I'm dying to know."

Arya pressed her lips together tightly. "Podrick and I are nothing," she said as her truth.

"But you slept with him." A couple of seconds passed before Gendry took her silence as a yes. He turned to the wall and bashed his hand through it. "Fuck!" he yelled, shaking it.

She stood up and tried to have a look at it before he grabbed her arms and pushed her against the wall.

"You do not belong to Podrick fucking Payne," he said possessively, looking into her eyes.

"No, I don't," she said, trying to steady her breaths. "But I don't belong to you either."

"No, you don't. But you are mine."

Then he grabbed the back of her head and crashed his lips against hers. Arya couldn't help but sigh in content against his lips, allowing him to take complete control. Gendry felt like home.

The kisses grew more hot and heavy as he hoisted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. His lips trailed from her lips to her jaw to her neck and collarbone.

"Gendry..." she moaned.

"Arya..."

Her hands snuck under his shirt as she pulled it off of him, throwing it aside by the forge. She moved her hands from his neck to the arms she loved so much.

Gendry felt alive. Although anger was coursing through his veins, Gendry had not felt so alive in five years. Having her in his arms gave him purpose. He decided then that he was never letting her or Sandor go.

Thinking of his son brought things back to attention, gave the anger a focus that was no longer masked by passion. He pulled away and lightly pushed her off of him, her giving him a disappointed pout. "I can't right now," he grumbled angrily before grabbing his shirt and storming out of the Smithy, leaving Arya standing there, panting and confused on what the hell just happened.