A/N: So, I'm really depressed that Gendry wasn't in Game of Thrones last night. Yes it was a GREAT episode, but I miss my man! I apologize for spelling Jaqen's name wrong in the last chapter…don't shoot me! I don't have much more to say. I'll let this chapter speak for itself.
Gendry had not seen Arya since the night before. He had stayed with her, until she had disappeared into her sleeping cell. For the rest of the night, he stayed awake. Above him, he had watched the red comet float slowly across the sky. Was it sent for him? Was it some sign of horrible things to come? He didn't know, but for the remainder of the night, his eyes remained open.
When the sun rose, he headed towards the forge and got to work. When the soldiers weren't looking, he had been working on a surprise for Arya. Right now, though, he could not even look at it. He thought, again, that he would get them out of this hell. Somehow, he would take Arya, Hot Pie and Weasel far away from this place.
He worked well into the day, not stopping, except to make water and eat. The work allowed him to keep his mind off of the events of last night. He would forge a whole damn army's worth of weapons if he did not have to imagine Arya covered in blood.
Gendry felt her presence without having to look up. She slowly walked in, quietly taking a seat. He did not stop hammering the anvil, did not look up at her…not yet. He would take his anger out on the sword before being forced to take it out on her. She didn't say a word, as quiet as a mouse. He could feel her eyes staring at him, watching him.
"Gendry, will you just talk to me?"
Her quivering voice almost broke his resolve. Finally, he looked up at her. She was sitting with her knees pulled up, her arms wrapped around her legs. Her face was pale, as if she had been sick. Her eyes were huge and staring, begging.
"Do you have any idea how much you scared me last night?" he said low, angry.
Arya closed her eyes, shrinking further into herself. Gone, was the stranger he had seen last night. What was left, was the girl he knew. What was left was Arya. "I'm sorry," she finally whispered.
"Save it. I don't want to hear it," he ground out.
The hours between the moon shining in the sky and the sun coming to take its place, Gendry had felt he anger soar within him. He was angry with her, angrier than he had ever been. Arya looked around her, as if she were lost. He watched her get to her feet, her body unsteady. It was then that his resolve was shattered.
"I want the truth, Arya. I want to know what he's making you do," Gendry said.
She stopped and turned back to him. "He isn't making me do anything. I've chosen this," she answered.
Gendry laughed, but there was no humor behind it. He picked his hammer back up and slammed it against the anvil. Over and over, he beat the sword into life. She stood there like a statue, watching him, as if she was desperate for him to say something else.
"You don't know what it was like having to wipe someone else's blood off of you. Can you understand that, Arya?" he asked. He drove his hammer down loudly to drive home every word he said.
"I stole three lives from their god. I must pay those lives back. Death for a life," Arya whispered.
"That's bullshit," Gendry growled. "Stop lying to me, Arya!
His head shot up to her to see if she heard him. He knew she was holding back the real reason why she did what she did last night. He was pretty sure he already knew the reasons, but he had to get her to say them out loud. Arya needed to come to terms with what had happened, because that hadn't happened yet.
"You don't know what it's like, Gendry…" she started, but stopped. Arya averted her eyes, looking at anything but Gendry. "I could hear them screaming for his head. Yoren might have shielded my eyes, but he couldn't shield my ears."
Gendry sighed, realizing Arya was talking about the day her father died.
"I want them all dead, everyone who had a hand in my father's murder. Everyone who works for the people who had my father killed, I want them to die."
"And I guess you think you should be the one to do it, huh? What will it change, Arya? It won't bring your father back."
Silence ensued again. Gendry continued hammering the anvil, desperate to keep his mind preoccupied on what he was doing, desperate not to have to look in her eyes. The anger was too much, his fury too strong. In his mind, she was covered in blood again. He could still feel his hands drenched in water and blood.
"At least I'm fighting back, which is more than I can say for you! How's the weapons making going?" Her voice was like razor sharp ice cutting in to him.
Gendry raised his head again. His fury was past the point of control. He stared at her, wanting her to see him fully. He waited until she finally looked away before speaking. His voice was cold, dangerous and a voice he had never used with her before.
"So, I'm a traitor now?"
"That's not…" but he did not give her time to finish. With one fluent motion, he grabbed the partially finished sword from the anvil and threw it at her feet. The sound of metal hitting stone was deafening. It bounced around them, soaking into his ears with a loud ring. Arya flinched back, looking upon the sword as if it were a live snake. She took a step away from it, her large eyes looking up at Gendry.
"Am I making their weapons? Yes! Do they use my weapons on the battlefield? Yes! Have you just reminded me of that fact? Yes! So, in your own words, you have just named me a traitor, named me someone who works for the very same people that killed your father."
Arya shook her head quickly. "I would never think you a traitor!" she cried.
Gendry laughed bitterly. "Pick up the sword, Arya," he bit out slowly.
He watched her give the sword a quick glance. Her chest was rising and falling in quick movements, but she never reached down for the object.
"Pick up the sword and drive it through this traitor's heart," Gendry whispered, his fist beating into his chest.
"Why are you doing this?" Arya said, tears welling in her eyes.
Gendry turned his back on her, trying to calm the rage. He watched the sparks rise and fall from the anvil. He felt the heat around him, soaking into his naked skin. For just a moment, he could close his eyes and pretend that he was home, working in the forge…a free man. For just a moment, he could imagine his life before all this mess, but it never lasted long. Everything that he remembered before meeting Arya just didn't seem as important anymore. She was still the girl he tried to protect with everything he was. She was still the one that had trusted him with her secret…the only one she trusted with her secret. She was still Arya.
He turned back towards her, miserable. Her face matched his. He could see the rage within her eyes, could see the vengeance, but he could also see that scared girl, who allowed him to hold her when the sun went down.
"You are walking down a path that I fear I cannot follow. You feel nothing but your vengeance, your anger. Yes, these men deserve to die for what they have done, but not by your hand. The cost is too much, and it will destroy you, Arya. It will turn you in to the same people that you despise. I can't watch you destroy yourself like this," Gendry pleaded.
"Tell me, what is it that I have if not my vengeance…my rage?" she said, angrily.
"YOU HAVE ME!" Gendry screamed. The hammer in his hands went flying towards the anvil. The sound was as loud, if not louder, than the sword. "Or has Jaqen H'ghar taken that from me too?"
The men in the forge looked over at Gendry, their low murmurs filling his ears. The hammer lay in ruins on the ground, and he knew he would pay for that. He knew a beating was coming, but he welcomed it. Maybe that's what he needed to stop the raging in his mind. He looked away as Arya walked slowly towards him.
When her hands reached out and touched his chest, he sighed deeply. His hand came up, rubbing his face. He body was shaking with anger and it wasn't helping that Arya was so close. Her hands began to slowly move around his chest to his back, until her arms were around his mid-section. He knew that it was no use being mad at her, not when she clung to him.
"I'm still here, Gendry. I won't lose myself, not as long as you're with me. I'll do whatever I have to do to make this right," she whispered.
At once, his arms went around her, holding her tightly to him. He breathed in her scent. He buried his face in her hair. She squeezed him as hard as she could, as if to let him know she was here. "Tell me how to save you from this? From Jaqen H'ghar."
She looked up at him then, her eyes looking so innocent. "Take me away from this place. Let's just do it, let's get Hot Pie and Weasel and make a run for it…please, Gendry. I can't stand it here any longer," she begged.
He nodded his head, "Okay. If that's what it takes, I'll get us out of here, I swear it!"
His lips found hers, taking in all that she gave him. It wasn't like the first kiss, soft and sweet. No, this kiss was filled with hunger, urgency. His hands rose to the back of her head, pulling her closer to him. He was filled with a need he had never felt before. But it did not last.
He heard the sound of men heading towards the forge. He opened his eyes, moving his lips away from Arya and looking over her shoulder. At that moment, a group of seven soldiers walked in. At once, Gendry pushed Arya behind him, putting himself between her and the men. Weese was leading them, his face smirking. Before he could blink, a sword was at his throat. Behind him, Arya gasped.
"Step aside, boy," Weese growled.
Gendry did not move. Two soldiers grabbed his arms, forcing him to move forward. He was thrown against the hard wall, his face digging into the stone. He felt the hard, cold steel of a blade on the back of his neck.
"If the bastard moves, kill him," Weese said.
Arya was ceased, her hands cuffed behind her back. She stared at Weese, her eyes angry rather than afraid. The man walked up to her, as if he were about to pounce. For several long seconds, nothing happened. Then, Weese's hand came out and struck Arya on her left cheek, sending her head jerking to the side. A moment later, he did the same to her right cheek. Gendry tried to buck the soldiers off, but the blade dug into the back of his neck, causing him to wince in pain.
"Where is Chiswyck?" Weese spat.
"Don't know," Arya answered, turning her face back to look at him.
Weese smiled, his blackened teeth shown for all to see. He grabbed Arya's face, roughly pulling her forward. She was inches from his face. "He went missing last night, didn't turn up for his shift. Now, the way I see it, there was only one person who wanted to do the man harm. So, I'll ask you again...where…is…he?"
Arya spat in the man's face, making him recoil back in disgust. He withdrew a dirty cloth and wiped the spittle from his cheek. Arya quickly glanced at Gendry, her face determined. He was surprised by her strength, but soon that strength turned to pain. Weese pulled his fist back and landed a hard, strong punch into Arya's stomach. Her gasps were immediate, her pain evident. She bent forward, desperately sucking in air. She had no time to recover before another punch hit the same place as the one before it.
"Stop it, you bastard!" Gendry screamed.
But Weese did not stop. Three more punches to Arya's stomach had her own her knees, tears pouring from her eyes. Weese grabbed a handful of her hair, jerking her to her feet. Her face was as white as Gendry had ever seen it.
"Where is Chiswyck?" Weese asked again.
"In hell," Arya ground out.
Weese turned back to look at Gendry. The man walked slowly towards him. He braced himself, knowing the punches would come. The first blow hit Gendry in the side. When knuckles hit flesh, Gendry growled in pain.
"Was it you? Did you want to pay Chiswyck back for touching your whore?" Weese whispered.
"Fuck you," Gendry hissed in fury.
Another fist to his side and Gendry was breathing at a fast rate, sweat pouring from his face.
"Bring him here," Weese said, walking back to Arya.
They forced Gendry to his knees, Arya standing in front of him. They put the sword's blade against his neck, forcing him to look up at Arya. He stared at her, trying to hide his fear, but he knew he wasn't doing a good job. If he was to be honest, he was scared to death.
"Now, what did you do to him?" Weese asked Arya softly.
Without looking away from Gendry, she answered, "I killed him, slit his throat."
Weese looked at Arya, disgust evident on his face. "Where is the body!" he screamed. Arya's eyes remained on Gendry. She never looked away from him, even when she received another punch in the stomach. She bit her lip, holding in the cry. Gendry was helpless to stop them. He could do nothing but watch.
"I cut him into pieces and burned him," she answered.
As a matter of fact, Gendry knew that's exactly what happened to Chiswyck. However, it was not Arya who had burned the body, but it was Jaqen H'ghar. Where was that son of a bitch now? Where was he when Arya's life hung in the balance?
"Take her to the cell. I'll be there momentarily," Weese commanded.
The soldiers jerked Arya around Gendry, leading her out of the forge and out of his eyesight. Weese looked at him, rage pouring from his horrible eyes. He kneeled in front of Gendry, studying him for a moment.
"I know what you're thinking, boy. You think you're going to march down in that cell and save that whore. You so much as try it and your head will be on a pike right along with hers."
The soldiers threw Gendry to the ground, kicking him in the stomach and side just because they could. He grunted with each blow, feeling a different place on his body explode in pain. They left him lying in the dirt, panting for air. His mind began screaming for him to get up, screaming for him to go and save Arya. But he had no clue how he was going to do that. The cells were underneath Lannister's tower. There was only one way in and one way out. There was no easy way to get to her. There was one small window that gave the prisoners inside their only light. The only problem with that was that there were bars in the way.
Gendry got to his feet slowly, holding his left side. Whatever injury he had suffered before coming to this place was awoken again. With every step he took, pain shot up and down his body. Still, he fought through it, only concentrating on getting to Arya. He staggered out of the forge, having to catch himself on the wall before he fell on his face. Shaking the dizziness from his head, he pressed on.
Hot Pie and Weasel were sitting on one of the darkened staircases. It had been their hideout since the first moment they walked into Harrenhall. He thanked the gods, old and new, that they were there today. As soon as they saw him, Weasely gasped in shock, but Hot Pie jumped to his feet, reaching Gendry and helping him sit. Gendry growled with every move his side had to take. Weasel came to his right side, rubbing his arm comfortingly. He looked at the small girl, trying to give her a reassuring smile, but a blast of pain hit him and he closed his eyes, digging his teeth into her lip.
"Where's Arya?" Weasel whispered.
Hot Pie looked from the girl to Gendry, finally understanding. "They have her," he breathed.
"Hot Pie, you and Weasel get whatever supplies you can hide. Go to the edge of Harrenhall and wait for Arya and me to join you. Walk in the shadows, and if you are caught, tell them you got lost. Whatever you do, stay out of sight, do you understand me?" Gendry said urgently.
Hot Pie nodded his head, his eyes growing wide. "Where's Arya," Weasel cried again. He could hear her hysterics right underneath the surface.
"Do you trust me, Weasel?" he asked her softly, touching her face.
"Yes," she cried, large tears filling her eyes.
"Then do as I say. I swear to you, Arya will be okay. Now, both of you go!" Gendry said, pushing them to do what he had told them.
He nodded his head, relieved that at least that part of his plan was taken care of. The next part, he had to look for the man that he wanted to give a slow, painful death to. Grabbing the stoned walls, he pulled himself up, grunting. With determination in his heart, the pain eased in his mind. He did not have long, Gendry was aware of this, but it would do no good to think about that right now.
He found Jaqen H'ghar, Rorgue and Biter in the dining hall eating. As soon as he made eye contact with the man, he whispered something to the other men and got to his feet, heading towards Gendry. He turned and walked out, knowing the man would follow him.
"The boy does not look as if he's had a very good day," Jaqen H'ghar said softly.
Gendry did not even give the man time to taste the words of his own sentence before he grabbed him, throwing him against the wall. Jaqen H'ghar looked alarmed but unafraid.
"They took her for what you do," Gendry said through clenched teeth. "She's in the cell, waiting for execution!"
"If you allow me to go free, I will help you get to her," he told Gendry.
At first, Gendry suspected a trap, but he knew he had no choice but to trust the man. Slowly, his hands came down to his side. Jaqen H'ghar motioned for Gendry to follow him. They went through darkened hallways, twisting staircases. They went through back ways unmanned by the soldiers, until they came across a black stoned building. This was the closest Gendry had ever been to the cells.
"This way," Jaqen H'ghar whispered.
He led Gendry around to the back of the building to the window. Both of them dropped to their knees, looking inside. He could not see a thing, but he could hear sounds of whimpering and moaning.
"Arya," he whispered desperately. "Arya, can you hear me."
For what seemed like eternity, nothing happened. Had they already killed her? Had he been too late to save her? He looked in the darkness, desperate to see her. Turning his head, it did not help his dreaded feeling when he saw Jaqen H'ghar's concerned look. No, she's not dead, he screamed inside his head.
Suddenly, hands came up and grabbed the bars. Both Gendry and Jaqen H'ghar reached out to grab them, but Gendry was faster. The hands let go of the bar, grabbing on to him with strength and urgency. He could feel the hands quiver and shake in his, yet he still could not see the hand's owner.
"Gendry?" it was a weak cry, but he heard it nonetheless.
"I'm here," he said as he plastered his face to the bars, trying to see her. Still, he could not see a thing.
"Is the girl badly hurt?" Jaqen H'ghar asked softly.
"Weese," Arya said frightened. Gendry wished for all that was in him that he could see her face, caress her cheeks. "My second name, my second choice to the gods is Weese!" she finished with a yell.
"Arya, no," Gendry pleaded, remembering their talk before the soldiers had come to take her away.
"Gendry, he's coming back to kill me. Any minute, he will be back. There will be no trial, no public execution. He is going to kill me in this dark cell. There are others here, soldiers, Gendry. Weese has the keys to the cells. Kill Weese, free us and let us get out of here. There are enough men in these cells to cause a revolt. It's the only way!" she cried.
"The girl has named her second name," Jaqen H'ghar stated. "The deed will be done."
With that, the man stood up and stormed away. Gendry took one last look at Arya's hands and straightened himself, following Jaqen H'ghar.
Gendry watched in both fascination and horror as the man took care of Weese and his three soldiers. It only took moments for Weese's lifeless eyes to be staring into the sky above. The moment his dead body hit the ground, all hell was let loose around Harrenhall.
Arya paced back and forth, wondering if they would get to her in time. The side of her face was burning in pain where Weese had slapped her harder than anyone ever had in her life. The men around her waited anxiously as well. They had heard her conversation with Gendry and Jaqen H'ghar realizing freedom was in their grasps. She wanted to give them a pep talk, something like her brother would say, but they had no clue who she really was. None of them recognized her. All she was to them was a way out, so she kept her mouth shut.
Suddenly, the door to their cell began groaning. She heard the sound of a key clicking in to place and the door swung open, revealing the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Gendry and Jaqen H'ghar stood in the door, motioning for everyone to get out. She ran to Gendry, throwing her arms around his shoulders in a hug.
"Listen to me, Arya. Something is going on out there. This place is being overrun I think, but I don't know who the new visitors are. There is fighting everywhere and I need you to not let go of my hand for a second, do you understand?" he screamed over the noise.
New visitors? Fighting? Could it be such a coincidence that these men chose today, her execution day, to go in to battle? Was the gods really looking out for her? Again, her life was spared from death. Suddenly, she felt a horrible sensation flow through her. Jaqen H'ghar's words floated through her mind, 'A life to pay for death'
"Arya!" Gendry called to her, shaking her shoulders gently.
"Let's go," she said, breaking out of her dread.
Jaqen H'ghar and his men ran behind them, their swords drawn. Everywhere Arya looked, men were falling left and right. Blood poured on the streets, running in every direction. She watched one man get his head cut off. She watched it roll, until it disappeared into a gutter. The hand holding Gendry's tightened.
"We will help you to the other two at the edge of the gate. You must run, and do not stop running until the sounds are died away. Do not look back, for this city is going to the god of Death!" said Jaqen H'ghar.
Several times, they had to stop as soldiers ran towards them, their swords drawn to attack. The men took care of them easily and they continued their run. At the large entrance gate to the city, Arya saw Hot Pie and Weasel looking around in horror. When Weasel saw Arya, she cried out with relief. It made Arya run faster. They were almost there, almost to freedom. Arya could taste it.
As soon as they reached Hot Pie and Weasel, they all turned and ran through the gate. The air seemed to smell different, fresher outside of the large gate. Arya turned her head and noticed that Jaqen H'ghar and his men were gone. She never got to say thank you, but she knew she would see him again. She still had one more life to give the gods.
On and on they ran, doing exactly as he had told them. They came to a hill, running as fast as their tired legs would take them. Still, behind them, the screams and shouts could be heard. They were not far enough away yet.
There was movement behind one of the large trees they had just passed, and Arya felt Gendry yank away from her. Someone had grabbed him, throwing him down the hill. Arya turned just in time to see him roll to a stop at the bottom. Next, Hot Pie and Weasel were pushed, rolling exactly like Gendry had done. Arya was left to stand before the one that had pushed them. The face she saw had her wanting to scream.
"Hello, love," Rothe breathed.
His hand shot out, squeezing her throat. She pounded her fists into his chest to get him to release her, but his hold was too strong. He threw her down, climbing on top of her and grabbing her head. As hard as he could, he slammed her head into the ground. Lights burst behind her eyelids, until nothing was left but black dots. She groaned, feeling her head explode in pain. Gendry screamed, but it sounded as if it were coming a mile away. Rothe climbed off of her, yelling for Gendry to come and meet him like a man. Gendry rose to the occation.
He charged towards Rothe, his head going straight into the man's belly. It did not seem to hurt him a bit. He wrapped his arms around Gendry's back, throwing him to the ground. He rolled out of the fall, jumping to his feet. Arya turned her pulsing head, watching through unfocused eyes. Rothe withdrew his sword, holding it out in front of him.
"Sideways," she heard Gendry whisper.
He had no weapon to defend himself, nothing to fight Rothe off, but he had his quickness and his strength. When Rothe would take a swing at him with the blade, Gendry would dive out of the way easily. Hot Pie grabbed Weasel, moving her from harm.
Aray turned on her stomach, grabbing the grass to pull her forward. She could feel blood running down the back of her neck. She started moving slowly at first, but soon picked up the pace. After a few moments, she was able to stand. The moment she stood, she saw Rothe's blade head for Gendry's arm. The very tip of it grazed his skin. Weasel screamed when she saw the blood.
She did not even know the man was back, had not heard of his arrival. How could she not have been prepared? Gendry charged when Rothe's body was opened to him, the small target he wasn't. He hit him with a force, driving them back. Rothe's sword fell from his hands, resting on the soft grass.
Rothe was able to throw Gendry off of him. He soared through the air, landing a good few feet away. For a moment, Gendry was stunned into stillness. He picked his back up off the ground in obvious pain. His sword forgotten, Rothe pulled out his crossbow and pointed it straight at Gendry. He stilled at once, his eyes staring straight at the deadly weapon pointed at him.
Arya was almost there, just a few more steps, and she would be at Rothe's back. As quietly as she could, she bent down and grabbed the sword. Her hands wrapped around the hilt of the sword, bringing it up with her when she stood.
"Any last words?" Rothe growled to Gendry.
Arya raised the sword above her head and thrust it down upon Rothe's neck. The blade slid through his flesh straight through his throat. He croaked and gasped as blood began to squirt out. But Arya wasn't fast enough. By the gods, she wasn't fast enough, and it would haunt her for the rest of her life. Rothe's finger jerked in the crossbows trigger and the arrow was sent flying.
Arya's world erupted into a horrifying scream as the tip of the arrow met flesh, muscle, bone and heart.
A/N: Y'all, please don't kill me. I will have the next update out tomorrow.