This chapter took me an eternity to write. I hope you like the result.

Thank you for all your feedback!

To guest who compared Aegon to Viserys :

He's not as bad as he seems. I'm sorry if I overdid it. I guess Aegon fans might hate me now. I like Aegon, and I like him here too. He's drunk and confused. That's why I want to give him an own POV, to explain him better. :) I thought he might be attracted to Arya (not love her, merely desire her) but I didn't want to write a love triangle, since I hate these. So that's the result.

Inside the Great Hall the feast was in full swing. Gendry was talking to some westerland lady, oblivious to the way her eyes were roaming his body and the way she was batting her eyelashes at him. It was ridiculous.

He was not even aware of the women ogling him or of the glares Arya shot him and the lady he was talking to. But what irritated Arya the most was how much it infuriated her. She was leaning against the back of her chair with her arms and legs crossed, gritting her teeth whenever a girl so much as greeted him.

"The Lord of Storm's End is rather popular with the ladies," Jon said as he sat down to the empty seat next to Arya. He poured himself a cup of Arbor gold and brought the liquor to his lips. Carefully Arya fixed her braid that was hanging over her right shoulder to hide the mark Gendry had left there. "He's not only lord of the Stormlands but a good warrior and quite handsome, too."

Arya huffed and stretched out her legs under the table. "Good for him. He can ring all the bells he wants."

"You're giving him your blessings then?", Jon asked her with a smirk

"What does it matter? I don't care who he's bedding." In spite of herself Arya's eyes darted back to Gendry and the woman. Although Gendry seemed uncomfortable during the conversation, Arya curled her lips into a snarl when the woman gigglingly placed her hand on Gendry's arm. Jon followed Arya's gaze and chuckled.

"Why's it then, you've spent the entire feast scowling at the women talking to him?"

"I did not," Arya snapped at him. Too late she noticed the too prominent indignation in her voice.

"But you are. Right now you're looking daggers at that westerland girl."

Arya rolled her eyes. "Look, Jon, I honestly don't care who Gendry's fucking or not. Anyway, I'm leaving to get some fresh air." She got up from her chair, the legs scraped nosily on the stone ground, and she stomped out of the Great Hall.

As Arya exited the hall she leaned against the balcony and looked at the inner courtyard of Maegor's Holdfast. She was annoyed by all the silly giggling and twittering and by the jealousy she was feeling, of which she hoped would vanish as soon as she had sobered up. When she heard footsteps approaching, she caught herself hoping it was Gendry. It was not Gendry, though. It was Aegon, who seemed to have had one cup of wine too many.

"Ah," Aegon said with his arms extended. "If it isn't Arya Stark of Winterfell. Princess of the wolves, liberator of the North and every lord's nightmare."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "If it isn't Aegon Targaryen, the pirate boy, the cocky silver prince with a stick up his arse."

"Lady Arya, how mean of you", he smirked. "Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name, conqueror of the Seven Kingdoms, rider of dragons and rightful heir to the Iron Throne. That would be more suitable."

"Quite pretentious, aren't we?"

"Just speaking the truth," he flashed a smile and his purple eyes seemed to flare in the moonlight. Aegon stepped up to Arya and took her hand to kiss it. Perplexed Arya pulled the hand away to wipe it off on her thigh. Instead of being offended, Aegon grinned at her.

"So why are you leaving? Are you not pleased with the feast my dear aunt is holding for you?"

Feeling uneasy with the proximity, Arya moved a few steps away from the prince. Ignoring the hint, Aegon approached her again. "I'm not too fond of feasts, no," she told him.

"So where were you going? Mind if I walk with you a little?"

"Actually I do. I'd prefer to be myself. Thank you."

To Arya's confusion a hurt expression crossed Aegon's face. He pursed his lips and stroke her face with the back of his hand. "Why are you denying me, Lady Arya?"

"I'm no lady, Prince Aegon. And I don't know what you mean."

"But I like the sound of it," his lips formed into a smug smile. "Lady. My Lady."

"I'm certainly not your lady," she scoffed and pushed him. Although intoxicated he did not so much as stagger.

"No?", Aegon laughed and pointed at the lovebite on her neck. "Lord Baratheon's then?"

"I don't think that's any of your concern. Now leave me be. I've enough of you...," before she could finish the sentence, Aegon grabbed her wrist. She tried to free herself from his grip but Aegon was surprisingly strong. "Let me go, you prick."

Suddenly Aegon pushed her into the column behind her and firmly grabbed her face between his fingers. "You bitch," he hissed through gritted teeth. "You fucking wolf bitch. You speak vulgar like a whore. You dress like a man and act like a common peasant. By the seven, I despise you," his mouth was next to her ear and she felt his hot breath on her skin, forcing her flesh to crawl. However, not in the way of excitement it did, when Gendry was touching her. "You, who bears her face. Tell me, Stark, why is it your face that haunts me in my dreams? Those eyes of yours are burning into my soul. It's as if you were the fire and not me. And it is I who's melting like ice."

Aegon pressed his body against hers. She could feel the bulge in his crotch growing. He darted his tongue out to taste the skin of her neck. "I want you, bitch. I want to taste you. I want to have you. Choose me. I am the dragon. What do you want with the stag?"

Arya had had enough of it and pulled out the dagger that was straped to her thigh and pressed it against his throat. "Back off, Aegon. You will never have me. Not while my body is still drawing breath."

"This is treason, Lady Arya," he grinned and moved his face all the more to her. The blade bored into his skin. He seemed to trust she would not harm him.

"Aegon, back off," she snarled but Aegon only grinned and licked his lips.

Suddenly he was pulled away from her. He fell to the ground as he was punched to the face.

"Baratheon," Aegon hissed. His violet eyes were flickering with hate. "You shall burn for this."

"Go on. Tell the queen why I punched you, you fool. I wont let you touch Lady Arya even if it means I will burn. But before I will kill you myself."

Aegon scrambled up from the ground and squared his shoulders. He shot a fierceful glare first to Gendry then to Arya before he walked back to the ballroom.

"You're so stupid," Arya shouted. She was angry that Gendry had interfered. "I wasn't in need of your help. I had it under control."

"By slitting his throat?", Gendry snapped back at her.

A bit startled by the livid tone in his voice, she folded her arms and pressed her lips together. "He wouldn't have harmed me anyway."

"I've told you, if he'd ever dare to touch you, I'll kill him," he growled, staring towards the direction to which Aegon had left. Then he turned back to Arya and studied her with concern on his face. "Did he hurt you?"

"As if that cunt could hurt me," she huffed. "What do you care, anyway? Go back to your westerland whore."

"Who are you talking about?", he frowned.

"That wench whose bell you want to ring. Or she wants to ring yours. I don't know."

Gendry rolled his eyes and then laughed. "So I wasn't imagining the murderous glare someone was shooting at me? It made me shiver, I tell you," unamused Arya narrowed her eyes at him. He snorted at her expression and offered her his arm, before she could form another insult for him. "Come, I'll escort you to your chamber."

At first Arya wanted to protest, but to her own surprise she kept her mouth shut. Although she did not take his arm, she nodded and led the way to her chamber inside Maegor's Holdfast with Gendry following behind.

Gendry walked with her past the Queen's guards but stopped at the doorway as soon as they reached Arya's chamber.

Arya entered her room and grabbed one candle to hold the wick into the kindled fireplace. She then continued to light the other candles positioned on the windowsill and on her bed stand. "Are you coming in or not?", she asked Gendry, who was still standing at her threshold.

He blushed and cleared his throat. "Good night, my Lady."

Arya heaved a sigh. "Gods, you're so annoying." Before he was able to retreat, she reached him and grabbed his collar to pull him down for a kiss.

"The guards," he broke their kiss to warn her. "What will they think if they see us?"

"I don't care about the guards," Arya had to rise up on her tiptoes to reach his lips, but Gendry kept pulling away. Exasperated with his reluctance she pulled on his shirt and tried to lead him into the room. "Come inside."

"No," he grunted.

She knew he wanted her. It was visible in his darkened eyes, audible in his husky voice. And Arya wanted him, too. She did not know if it was the wine that was inspiring her, but something inside of her had been ignited. It had begun with their first kiss and it had been slowly growing with every of his touches until it had become almost unbearable, when they were kissing in the storeroom the other day. She would not let him go now. At least not until that yearning had been satisfied. "Stop being so bloody stubborn," she urged as her impatience was growing. "Or is it this other lady you want?"

Gendry did not give her an answer, instead he went towards the door again. Arya opened her mouth to shout at him, only to realise that he was locking the door. When he turned around his lips were back on hers in an instant. She managed to pull his tunic out of his breeches and when she let her hands slide over his stomach, she moaned at the warm skin and the firm muscles she was feeling. When she attempted to pull his tunic over his head he stopped her. Quickly Arya's fingers went down to fiddle with the laces of his breeches. As he slapped her hands away, she turned the game around and with a swift move she had taken off her own tunic.

She saw the flicker in his eyes, when he stared at her bare flat stomach and the swell of her breasts, that were hidden under a layer of bandages. She unfastened her belt and was thankful Gendry was not running away, but stood frozen watching her. She took of the trousers and when she was standing in her smallclothes, trying to get rid of them as well, Gendry gave up his struggle and took of his shirt.

He crushed her hard against him and pressed his lips down on hers. Eagerly Arya greeted his tongue with hers. By now she had become accustomed to his kisses. However, they were not sufficient anymore. She needed more. She needed to feel him. She had seen him naked before, when they were children. It was different now. His body aroused her and she was finally able to touch it. Her hands moved from his strong arms, to his stomach, to his broad back. She felt his fingers wandering down her spine and she shivered. His hands were strong and calloused. The hands of a workman. The hands of a warrior. But it did not matter. She liked the feel of it. A loud moan escaped her, as he grabbed her bottom with both of his hands. The feeling between her legs was getting more and more excruciating.

"We shouldn't," Gendry suddenly interrupted again.

Annoyed Arya threw her head back and groaned. "Seven buggering hells, Gendry."

"I don't want to put a bastard in you," he said pointing to her belly.

"Then don't", Arya whimpered and tucked on his trousers.

"Arya you have to understand. I can't father any bastards. I don't want to. Never."

"You're so stupid. That's your problem? There's moon tea, Gendry. I will drink moon tea and your problem will be solved," she gave him an innocent smile and watched him considering. He had his deep frown again, as if thinking was giving him a headache. Arya rolled her eyes and took of her bandages to reveal her breasts. Gendry snapped his head to her and she saw him marvelling at the sight. Content with his reaction she bit her lower lip. It was then, when he stopped his pondering and pushed her to the bed.

He placed kisses on her jaw, neck and on her collarbone, while one of his hands was sliding down her leg. The other was cupping her breast. Arya buried her hand into Gendry's hair and involuntarily pressed her hips against his. She felt his erection through his woollen breeches. It was rubbing against her damp smallclothes and it made her feel dizzy. Gendry's mouth reached her breast. He teased one nipple with his tongue and sucked and nibbled on it, while he pinched the other with his fingers. The sensation of his mouth on the sensitive skin made her moan loudly and goosebumps were forming on her entire body. His hand wandered down into her smallclothes. She hissed through her teeth, as his fingers touched her wetness. Again her hips were rubbing against his hand and then he let one finger slide into her. The feeling was new, a little odd perhaps and yet she was aching for more.

She sat up, with his fingers still inside her and grabbed the fabric of his breeches. "Take this off," she begged him.

Gendry grinned. He had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "As m'lady commands," he let go of her and began to loosen his laces.

"You're not funny, Gendry," Arya said frustrated and stripped off the last of her clothing.

He immediately stopped his japing as he saw her lying naked beneath him. She had trouble interpreting his expression, that was switching between lust, nervousness, awe and uncertainty. Fearing he would panic and retreat, she took one of his hands and intertwined their fingers. His face softened as she gave him an assuring smile. "I love you," Gendry told her and bent down for another kiss, chaste and gentle.

They way he looked at her made her feel almost beautiful. Although she was divested and uncovered she did not feel hideous. When he looked at her, she was able to relax. "I know. Now take this off already."

He did as he was bid and when he was finally naked above her, Arya was surprised by the size of his member. She had seen it before, though never erect. It scared her a little, but her desire, her need for him, prevailed.

Gendry positioned himself between her legs. "Have you lain with a man before?", he asked with a little falter in his voice.

Arya shook her head no. "And you?"

He was blushing furiously and Arya wondered if he did so, because he was embarrassed to admit that he had had other women before. "No," he said eventually. Oddly enough, she felt relief at his confession. She would claim him for herself. The idea satisfied her. "There was... I was... never..."

"Alright, stop stuttering," she interrupted his nervous attempt to explain himself.

He nodded and she felt the tip of him at her entrance. Slowly and carefully he entered her. It stung and Arya screwed up her face. Gendry tensed and held still.

"Go on," Arya told him determinedly. "I don't want you to stop."

He continued and when he was completely sheathed inside her, he waited for her to adjust to the feeling. It hurt more than she had expected, nevertheless she felt comfortable with him above her. The warmth his skin was radiating and the love and concern his eyes were expressing, were soothing her.

He started to thrust into her. Slowly at first, gradually quickening. Soon the pain was gone and she began to join into his movements. She heard him whispering her name in to her ear, like a prayer on his lips. In a frenzy she drove her nails into the skin of Gendry's back and scratched down from his shoulderblades to his bottom cheeks. He cried out in a mix of ecstasy and pain.

Her moans grew louder, soon transforming into screams of pleasure. She was sure the guards could hear their grunts and moans, the squeaking of the bed, but she did not care. She did not care if the whole Red Keep was hearing them.

Arya had known lust. She had seen it in the brothels of Braavos. She had known what it looked like to lay with a man, but she had never understood what it meant. Only now she had come to realise, why all were longing to do so. Laying with Gendry made her feel fulfilled. As if she had finally found a missing part of her, she had never known of. Him being inside her was like two fitting pieces. It was right. It was perfect. She comprehended what it meant to be a woman. What it meant to be a lover. To desire, to devote oneself. It frightened her. All that she was feeling overwhelmed her. She feared if she would give in into the illusion, it would devour her. The walls that she had built up around herself in the years past threatened to disintegrate. If she would let them crumble down, she would be exposed. She would remain vulnerable and unsheltered. What if he chose to leave me?, she thought anxiously. He says he loves me, but does he love what I've become? He left me once, he might as well leave me again. Only this time it would destroy me.

"Tell me you're mine," Arya commanded him and grabbed a tuft of his jetblack hair, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Say it."

Gendry stared at her. The pupils of his dark blue eyes dilated. "I'm yours," he finally said and pressed his lips on hers. "And you are mine. Say it."

His response irritated her and at first she was hesitant to comply with him. "I'm yours," Arya told him suddenly. She did not know what had come over her. Her lips seemed to move on her own, against her rationality. Though as she had spoken the words, she felt no rue. "And you are mine." He was hers and she was his. At that moment it felt right.

When he smiled, she thought she saw tears glistening in his eyes. Gendry quickened his speed. He thrusted into her, deeper, harder, eliciting louder screams of pleasure from her. He pressed his thumb to the nub above her sex and began rubbing it. Her release came shortly afterwards. It started as a tickling feeling at her feet, creeping up her legs. The tickling soon exploded and scorched her entire body like wildfire. She had no more control over her body, as she cried out and squirmed. Her womb was crampening and she was shivering and shuddering. Gendry pulled out of her to spill his seed on her belly and collapsed on top of her.

They lay there for a while, both scant of breath. His weight did not crush her, it encased her with security. She felt his heart pounding against his chest. Loud and strong. Still drunken from their act she thought of telling him how she felt, but before she was able to speak, Gendry got up. He looked around her room until he found a bowl of cold water and some cloth. Then he returned to her and gently cleaned the blood from her thighs and his seed from her belly.

"The sheets are ruined," he observed. Then he frowned and dropped his head. "I took your maidenhead," the regret in his voice made her heart sink. "I shouldn't have done this. I'm sorry."

"Was it not good for you?", asked Arya. "Did I do it wrong?"

"No," he shook his head and sat down on the bed. "You are perfect, Arya. But I've ruined you."

I'm already ruined, she thought as she studied his concerned expression. "And you are stupid. How could something that felt so good ruin me?"

Gendry's face lit up again. "So you liked it?"

"I did. Though I do feel a little sore down there," he smiled and placed a kiss on her thigh. "So," Arya said, pushing herself up on her elbows. "Can we do this again?"

When Gendry responded with a laugh, she noticed the crinkles that were forming around his eyes. She scrunched her nose at the feeling in her belly the sight of it was causing.

"I'd gladly do this for the rest of our lives, m'lady," she grimaced at his mawkishness, "But you need to wait a little. I need to take a break first."

Arya plumped down again, wondering how long this break of his would take. They kept silent for a while, whilst Gendry's fingers were drawing patterns on her stomach and chest. Her nipples grew hard again.

"Come with me to Storm's End," Gendry said eventually. "Hot Pie's also there."

"I thought he was at that inn."

"Yes, but I took him with me to Storm's End. To bake me pies."

Arya punched his arm. "You tricked me! I can't believe you," he laughed throatily and Arya could not help but answer with a laughter of her own.

Gendry put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. Feeling content, she snuggled up against his chest. "Come with me," he begged again, tenderly kissing her upper arm. "I want to show you the Stormlands before you leave."

"I'm not leaving yet, Gendry. Although I believe Aegon has a mission of spoiling my mood."

"Please Arya."

She let her head fall back into the pillows. "Alright," she sighed. "I'll go with you then, stupid."

Gendry's grin threatened to split his face in half.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

Early the next morning Arya went to Samwell Tarly's chamber beneath the rookery. She knocked on his door and waited. Perhaps he's still asleep, she thought. Samwell had attended the feast, as well. Arya had watched him gulping down wine and gobbling ham and cheese and other dainties with a seemingly endless appetite. "Open up, Samwell Tarly," she hammered her fist against the wooden door. "I need to speak with you."

She heard heavy and hurried footsteps and then the door cracked open. "Lady Arya?", the fat maester asked in astonishment. He was dressed thus he had not been sleeping. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. What is the matter?"

"I need to ask you a favour. Can I come in?"

Samwell's moon shaped face looked at her in confusion, before he bowed his head and let her in. A thick book laid open on a round table in the middle of his room. Arya took her time surveying his room, fascinated by the amount of books Samwell was possessing.

"Did you read all of that?", she asked awed. When Arya was a child, she had preferred playing outside to reading and then the war had come and there had been no time to read.

"Not all yet," Samwell replied and gave her a timid smile. Although he had accomplished to become Grand Maester, a position normally reserved for the most senior member of the Order of Maesters, he still seemed always unsure of himself. "So what is this favour you need to ask of me, Lady Arya?"

"Moon tea," Arya told him. "I need moon tea."

For a moment Samwell stared at her with bulged eyes until he nodded in understanding and went to a shelf to fetch five little jars and an empty bowl, which he brought to the round table. He mixed four different herbs in the bowl and then added a spoon of honey. "It's for you, right? Do you need to drink it now?" Arya chewed on her lip and nodded. "I need to fetch boiled water from the kitchen then. Stay here."

About ten minutes had passed until Samwell Tarly returned with a pan of hot steaming water. He filled the bowl with the water and told her the tea needed to steep a couple of minutes. The two of them waited in awkward silence until Samwell decided the drink was ready. He took a sieve, poured the tea into a mug and offered it to Arya. Taking the mug she thanked him and blew to cool the liquid down. As she took the first sip, she noticed the bitter taste, but drinking it was indispensable. Last night she had lain with Gendry two more times and again when she had woken up at dawn. Although she had assured Gendry to drink moon tea, so he would not need to interrupt the act, he had remained stubborn and refused to finish inside her.

"I need more," Arya said as she finished the tea. "To take with me, I mean."

"How much?"

"I'm not sure. Enough for a sennight perhaps. Until I reach Storm's End."

She saw Tarly grinning to himself but she did not comment on it further. At least he was not asking any questions. Once more he mixed the herbs into a pouch and handed it and the honey jar over to her, while explaining how much she needed for a cup and how often she should drink it.

"Thank you, Maester Tarly. I owe you," Arya hid the pouch inside her leather jerkin and walked off. However, when she reached the door she turned around again. "Please, don't tell Jon."

"I promise you, I won't," he gave her a knowing smile and Arya decided to trust him.

Arya returned to her room to pack her bag. Gendry and her had decided to leave on that day, for he had only come to King's Landing for the feast and Arya was free to leave whenever she wanted.

Looking at the bloodied sheets reminded Arya of the night before and it brought a warm feeling to her stomach. She had lost her maidenhead to Gendry, but she did not regret it a bit. Although she felt sore and exhausted she would love to lie again with him. Unfortunately the idiot had sneaked out of her chamber in the morning, hoping that after the feast the attendants would have to sleep longer, so he would not be caught. Arya had told him it was unnecessary, after all the guards had seen him anyway. But he would not listen, only talk about honour and virtue and unseemly behaviour. Arya did not really care what others thought of her. But it did matter to Gendry and truth be told, she did not really fancy talking with Jon about her and Gendry, so she had let him go in the end.

When Gendry and Arya later went the to queen and Jon, who were present at the throne room, to inform them about their departure, Arya was fearing she would have to talk with Jon after all.

Queen Daenerys was sitting on the Iron Throne, all in emerald silk and colourful jewels around her neck and her wrists. However, she looked pale and tired from the night before. Jon looked slightly better. He was sitting on the stars that led to the throne with Ghost's head on his lap. Aegon was nowhere to be seen.

"I hope you came to discuss pleasant matters," Daenerys greeted them, rubbing her temples.

"You don't have to worry, Your Grace," Arya said. "I only came to see my cousin off."

"Wherefore?", asked Jon.

Arya glanced at Gendry before she addressed Jon again. "I've decided to visit Storm's End."

Jon flashed a grin and the queen too smiled, seeming pleased with herself. Then Jon stood up and called Gendry over to quietly tell him something Arya could not hear. She rolled her eyes as she saw Gendry blushing furiously.

Jon stepped up to her and kissed her on the cheek. "I wish you a pleasant journey then, dear cousin."

"Wipe that grinn off of your face," Arya scolded him, but merely achieved the opposite. She rolled her eyes, half-heartedly bowed her head to the queen and left.

"I'm very glad you've decided to come with me," Gendry told her on their way to the stables to saddle their horses.

Arya gave him a pointed look. "Don't be smug about it. I'm only interested to see the Stormlands."

Jon had given Arya a young dapple grey mare to her disposal. She would have preferred to ride on Nymeria again, but the direwolf was at the Riverlands, leading her pack. Arya wondered if the day would come, when Nymeria would abandon her pack and stay at her side for good. Why would she? I've abandoned her once. I threw rocks at her and sent her away. Although it was for her own good. Arya liked her mare though. It had a curious nature and looked at her with black knowing eyes. Gendry's steed had a smoky black coat colour, with a raven-black tail and crest. It was big and muscular, much as Gendry himself. She remembered his poor riding skills before he had become a lord and laughed to herself.

"What's your horse's name?", asked Arya, petting the dark steed's muzzle. It responded with a whinny.

"Mors," Gendry said, as he fastened his bag to the saddle.

"Mors?", Arya sneered and bestrode her horse with an easy grace. Her mare was much smaller than Gendry's, but she appeared more swift and agile than his. "If you wanted someone to keep Nymeria company, you should've gotten yourself a direwolf."

She ignored the scowl he gave her and they left King's Landing together with a handful of Gendry's men, who had accompanied him.

On the first night they made camp in the Kingswood a few leagues north of the Wendwater. Arya had placed her bedroll next to Gendry's, but she waited for the men's snoring before she began to creep into Gendry's furs.

"No," Gendry stopped her attempt. "They can hear us, Arya."

"They're asleep."

"Not the one who's keeping watch."

Instead of being deterred, she reached under his furs and rubbed her hand on his cock till it hardened.

"Arya stop!", he hissed, but when she slipped her hand into his breeches and began to stroke him, he lifted his bedcover for her and she quickly crawled in. Lying on top of him, she wriggled out of her breeches and pulled his down.

"We can't...", she silenced Gendry with a kiss and positioned herself over him, so the tip of his cock was at her entrance. She lowered herself down until all of him was inside her. Gendry groaned and his hands went to her hips and Arya began to slowly lift herself up and slide down again. When Arya moaned a little too loud, Gendry rolled them over and pressed his hand on her mouth. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and kept pushing hard into her. The stifled moans against his palm aroused Arya only more and she began to tremble from pleasure and excitement. Her release came soon, spiralling through her body like jolts of lightning. Gendry pumped into her once, twice, thrice more, until a deep growl rumbled from his chest and he finished inside her.

"I'm sorry," he said panting for breath and rolled off her. His seed trickled down her thighs, mixed with her own wetness. It felt sticky, but she liked having the result of his pleasure between her legs. "I lost my control."

"You need not worry," Arya said. "I drank moon tea this morning. I've brought with me more."

Gendry pulled her close and before long both were fallen asleep.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

They passed the Wendwater, Bronzegate, hills and mountains, deep green forests, until one afternoon the castle of Storm's End appeared gloomily in front of them. Living up to it's name it was teeming down on that day. Heavy thunder boomed from the black sky and the rain was splashing heavily against the thick round walls of the fortress. The wind was lushing violently against the travellers, forcing them to tread their path only laboriously. The horses whinnied nervously. Arya could hear the waves hitting against the cliffs and she tasted the salt in the air.

"That's not a great first impression," Gendry shouted out to her through the heavy raindrops.

Arya tried to brush away the wet hair that was whipping her face. "It's a little stormy," she agreed. "But we're almost there."

The gates opened as soon as the guards spotted their lord and his companions and for the first time Arya laid her eyes on the dark and massive fortress with its huge drum tower. Gendry asked her if she would prefer her own chamber, but Arya decided to share a room with Gendry and thus told him to lead her to the lord's chambers, that were located on a higher floor of the tower. Gendry blushed, but at the same time seemed pleased with her suggestion.

The lord's chambers of Storm's End were a large room with a view of the rocky coast of Shipbreaker's Bay. Carpets, woven with yellow, golden, black and brown thread adorned the walls and the floor. Two small stone steps led to a big featherbed. Aditionally the chamber had a seperate dressing room, with a bronze bath tub. Arya thought the room was a little too fancy, but nice enough. After all she would merely spend a limited time there.

Arya hurriedly changed into dry clothes and was ready to explore the castle. After so many years she was looking forward to meet Hot Pie. The kitchens were located in a building joined to the tower.

"Back already?", the fat baker's boy asked as he saw Gendry walking into the kitchen. When he noticed Arya, his eyes narrowed and then widened in recognition and disbelief. "Arry?", he asked gaping at her. "Seven Hells, it's really you. What are you doing here? I thought you were in Winterfell."

"I see you're still as stupid as you're fat," Arya replied with a laugh. "I was in King's Landing with my cousin Jon. Gendry told me you'd be here so I agreed to visit Storm's End."

"So you're leaving again?", Hot Pie asked mirthlessly. Briefly Arya was at a loss for words. She would leave eventually, but she had not planned her departure yet. She nodded and opened her mouth to speak.

"Hot Pie's baking the best pies," Gendry beat her to a reply. "It seems while others were fighting in the war, he was busy eating and baking. You should try them."

Hot Pie gave him an annoyed glance and Arya stifled a laugh. The carefree atmosphere elated her. Years ago they had gotten to know each other under dreadful circumstances, but now they were able to laugh again. She savoured the moment. Once she had considered the two boys, or rather two men, her pack and now they were together again. "I don't think I've ever tried them. I'd love to."

The three of them kept chattering for another hour. When they had finished exchanging their experiences and Arya was stodged with pie and pastry, Hot Pie told them he had work to do and they left. The rain had eased off a little and Gendry was showing her around the courtyard. Across the yard Arya noticed the forge. "Do you still have time for blacksmithing?"

"I still forge things sometimes," Gendry told her. "Storm's End has its own smith, so I'm only doing it because I like it and I'm good at it. Come, let me show you," he took her by her hand and led her to the forge. There was no one inside and the fire was cold. Proudly Gendry showed her around and diligently explained his works to her. The bull helmet he had worn on their way to Winterfell, daggers made of dragonglass, small, delicate other objects like ornaments and decorations. She spied a thin, slender sword hanging on the wall. "This looks like Needle," Arya said astonished.

"I remembered when you lost it to Polliver. I made a new one and thought I'd give it back to you when I see you the next time. But somehow you had already retrieved it on your own."

At that moment something stirred inside Arya. His proposition affected her deeply. She realised that Gendry actually cared for her. She felt funny. Her stomach flipped and her heart was racing. A warmth was creeping up her cheeks. She did not deserve this affection, this benevolence. I'm Arya Stark, she thought. The wolf girl. The assassin. The killer. How could he possibly love me?

"Are you alright?", Gendry asked her with a frown.

Arya snapped out of her thoughts and forced a smile to her face. The rainfall had increased again. Gendry studied her with a concerned expression and all she could think of was that she wanted to feel him again. "Let's go back to your chamber, shall we?"

Gendry smiled. A warm, caring smile, but there was worry in his blue eyes. He took her hand again and they left for the tower.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Stay with me," Gendry breathed into her hair, as they lay entangled within the sheets of his featherbed. "Stay with me here, Arya."

Arya was still flushed with heat from their lovemaking. Earlier she had urged him to take her hard and intense. She had needed him deep inside her. She had needed his strong arms around her, holding her tightly, as he was whispering sweet promises into her ear. She had needed it all to feel real. The night had fallen and through the window the moonlight was illuminating their sweaty bodies.

Lying with him inside this intimate embrace, naked and satisfied, felt wonderful. She wished she would never have to leave this bed again. But Arya knew she had to. "I still have things to do. I can't stay. You know I can't."

"Cersei?", he asked catching her unawares. From her expression he must have noticed that he had hit the mark. "You are still thinking of killing her. Why?"

"Because I have to."

"That's nonsense, Arya," she wriggled out of his arms, angry that he dared to call her actions into question. The single and only reason that all along had motivated her to carry on. Gendry flung an arm around her waist, so she was not able to flee. "The war is over. Cersei has payed for what she's done. Everybody has found his peace. Jon, Sansa, your brothers, even Nymeria. It is now time for you to find peace. You're still unable to see what you have. People who love you, people who care for you, you're disregarding them. You're yet nurtured by hatred and vengeance, but it threatens to consume you. Sooner or later you will lose it all. You have to let go, Arya, before you're going to lose yourself completely."

Tears pricked her eyes. Tears of anger, tears of desperation, she could not tell. If she would let go as he suggested, nothing would remain for her. All these years revenge was her sole purpose. She survived and lived through everything, only because she was holding on to the promise to avenge those she had loved and lost. So many nights her prayer had accompanied her. Hate and wrath had been her companions all along. If they would leave her, then there would be nothing left. Only emptiness would linger within her and she would truly become no one. "What do you know? You're only a stupid bull."

"Tell me what happened to you in Braavos," Gendry prompted her while running his fingers through her hair. "Tell me everything. What you did. Who you were with. I want to know." It was everything, she feared. Telling him about her past, and seeing the love inside his eyes turning into loathing and disgust. As if he sensed her fear, he continued to encourage her. "I love you, Arya Stark, and there's nothing that could change that. Regardless of what you've done in your past."

Arya laid her head on his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat. I love him, she realised. And I'm scared to lose him. She had never told anyone, what exactly she had done when she was with the Faceless Men. Only Nymeria knew. And probably Bran. Both had not rejected her though and maybe she could confide in Gendry as well. She knew how stubborn he was. He would not cease to ask her about her past, she knew. Thus Arya took a deep breath and then she began.

She told Gendry about Jaqen H'ghar and the coin he had given her. She told him about the House of Black and White and the Many-Faced God. She told him about who she had been, what she had done. She told him of Salty, Cat of the Canals, Beth, Mercy, no one.

When Arya finished, she expected Gendry to banish her. His body had tensed throughout her explanation and his arms around her had tightened. However, she saw no rejection in his eyes. Only understanding and relief. As she saw, that he still wanted her, Arya began to cry. In an instant comforting arms encased her and soothing words were breathed upon her skin. Gently Gendry kissed her tears away. "I love you, Arya," he said with a sincerity that awed her.

"I love you, too."

That night she got the first good sleep ever since her father's death.

This was the first time I've ever written smut. I hope you don't think it was too lowbrow...

And in the beginning I had no intention to give Aegon a bigger role, but I found out I like to write him. I think he'll get his own POV chapter after I've finished the main story.

How did you like the chapter? Too sappy?