Epilogue: Winterfell (Gendry)

It's dark when I wake. I'm still not used to having proper curtains in this hut. Lady Stark had them made for me. Since I refused to move into the great keep, she insisted on making this place more inhabitable. I appreciated the offer of moving in, but one night let me know I'd never sleep easily there. In or out of the keep, though, I'm still pretty much an honourary Stark these days.

We've been free for four years now. The other Districts rebelled, just as we did, and so did King's Landing. To be more specific, the Targaryens rebelled. The king's children, Rhaegar and Daenerys, overthrew their father. Under their rule there was no retribution for the Direwolf Rebellion. They made peace with the Districts. Rhaegar even considered setting us all free of their rule, but we chose to stay with them. Every District agreed that these two are rulers we can gladly follow. Besides, it's better to keep them on side now. The rebellion and the Games are long since ended, but there are new dangers. The White Walkers of ancient myths came down across the wall while there was no-one guarding it.

We didn't even know until two months after the rebellion. Riders were sent to the Dreadfort, to suggest that the Boltons rejoin the reformed Seven Kingdoms. A single rider returned, with tales of blue-eyed corpses walking the halls. A year and a half later, the Targaryens flew north on the dragons they hatched during their own rebellion. There are three, ridden by King Rhaegar, Princess Daenerys and Princess Rhaenys. They've gone to the Wall to fight, and warriors from every kingdom have gone with them. Lord Stark and Jon have gone. Robb stayed to run the district. I stayed because even now, everyone else is too scared to go into the woods. I still have to hunt for them. I can't say I mind.

I sit up and see sunlight creeping past the edges of the curtains. Nymeria stirs and jumps to the ground to stretch. Without her warmth curled around me I'm immediately cold, so I dress quickly. I need to hunt today anyway.

I scratch at my beard irritably as I go to open the curtains. I've been growing it longer recently, mainly to annoy Sansa. She says it doesn't suit me, so it stays. Although, Lady Stark has passed comment on it, too, and I'm tempted to shave it off for her sake. I have a great deal of respect for Lady Stark. She's been so kind to me since the rebellion. All the Starks have treated me as one of their own.

When I open the door, I see the sun high in the sky. I've slept later than I should, but I can safely head into the woods whenever I want now. Even after four years, I'm still getting used to that. I don't have to be with Mikken until the evening, today.

It's good to see the Refuge alive and busy. It's not even called the Refuge anymore. It's the Winter Town, like it once was in the years before the war. These days people farm and smith and trade in freedom. It's got to a stage now where most people prefer to barter for the meat I bring home. They're slowly regaining the old pride of the northerners, even those who weren't northerners to begin with. Some of the refugees from King's Landing went home after Aerys fell. I couldn't. This is my home now.

As I stretch, Nymeria steps out beside me, full of pride and grace. She's been with me for all of the last four years, ever since the last Red Games. She came to my hut in the middle of the night. I heard a scrabbling and whining outside and found her at the door. When I opened it, she trotted in and refused to leave. She stands taller than my shoulder now. Most people think of her as my direwolf, but to me she'll always be Arya's.

She gives a small yip and I look around to see Robb approaching with Grey Wind at his heels. Lordship suits Robb, even if it is temporary. There will come a day when it will be permanent. We all know we'll still be in good hands when that day comes. Now, though, he looks formal and apologetic. That's never a good sign.

"Sansa requests your presence at lunch." he tells me formally, and then he adds in a sympathetic voice, "She's found another one."

Gods be good! Sansa got married two years ago, and suddenly decided that everyone else needed to be married too. She's been matchmaking her brothers ever since - and since I'm an honourary Stark, that apparently includes me. Jon escaped from her by going north. A few months ago, Robb fell in love with and married a girl she set him up with. Rickon and Bran are both still too young, by Westeros' newest laws. That leaves me in the firing line. That's why I've grown and kept the beard. It's at times like this that I almost wish highborns still ignored lowborn bastards like me.

"How can she have found another one?" I grumble. "Either they all look the same, or she's set me up with the same ones more than once!"

Robb shrugs. I'm glaring so hard at him that he holds up his hands in a peace gesture. "Hey, don't blame me. I'm just the messenger."

"No, you're just the idiot who went and fell in love with one of the ones she set you up with!" He gives me a half-guilty grimace. "How does she even have time for this? She's got an eight-month-old baby!"

"Mother loves being a grandmother." Robb points out. "She's got Lyanna."

"Of course she has." I mutter, but I can't muster any real frustration, not for Lady Stark. I make a decision and duck back inside to grab my bow. "Right, tell Sansa I'm hunting."

"I am not lying to my sister, Gendry!" Robb tells me, but he's laughing.

I wave the bow at him as I take off. "Not a lie!"

I make for the woods at a slow run, Nymeria bounding along and easily passing me. Summer flashes past me as well and he and Nymeria jump around each other as they head for the trees. Bran falls into step beside me. He's tall now, for fifteen. He's hunted with me every day since the last Games.

"Sansa's gonna kill you." he tells me.

"I am not afraid of your sister." I know damn well I'm lying.

So does he. "Then why are you going to hide in the woods?"

I shoot him a sour glance and elbow him lightly in the side - neither of us breaks stride. "Same reason you will be soon. A few months and you'll be sixteen. Then it'll be your turn. I hear she's already got her eye on Beth Cassel."

Bran pulls a horrified face, punches me in the arm and speeds up, quickly disappearing into the trees. I slow to a jog and then to a walk as I reach the Wolfswood. Bran'll be up a tree already, searching for birds' eggs. He's a good hunter and a good friend, and I'm starting to love the kid like a brother. But he's not Arya.

Amongst the trees the ache always comes back. It's been four years, yet her memory won't leave me alone. I could swear her ghost is with me every time I step into these woods. But the truth is, I wouldn't change that. I don't want to forget her. I don't want to let her go.

Sansa thinks I need a wife to help me get over the loss. Maybe she's right, but if it's true I'll decide in my own time, in my own way. There was nothing romantic between me and Arry, but she was part of me, part of who I was, part of who I still am. I'm not ready to move on.

The woods are quiet under a thick layer of snow. As I retrieve a dead rabbit from one of the traps I set yesterday, a haunting whistle echoes through the woods. It's the signal Arya and Rue used in the Games. Bran and I took to using it as a warning out here. For the most part, these woods are safe, but there are rovers about. I straighten up and draw my bow. I nock an arrow but don't draw, not yet.

Nymeria and Summer bound out of the trees. Bran'll still be up a tree, hopefully keeping an eye on whatever he's seen. The wolves stand on either side of me. It's hard to feel fear of whatever's coming with a direwolf taller than your shoulder on each side of you. The only time we were attacked by rovers out here, the wolves made short work of them.

There's a faint rustle and then she comes out of the trees almost silently. She's a young woman, a girl really, seventeen at the most. Her face looks so familiar that my heart almost breaks, because she can't be the girl she looks like. And yet… her brown hair is right, her grey eyes are right. She holds a sword in her left hand. She's wearing an old shadowskin cloak over torn and patched clothes, and looking at me like she should know me. Pinned to the tunic is a golden pin… a golden direwolf pin…

Nymeria gives one of her welcoming yips and bounds forward. She prances around the girl, licking her face happily. By the time she stops jumping and sits down to look at me triumphantly, I've dropped my bow and my unloosed arrow and the girl's dropped her sword. We stare at each other silently for a long moment, until finally I'm nearly sure my eyes aren't deceiving me.

"Arry…" I whisper, barely a sound escaping my lips.

"Gendry." Her voice is more certain than mine.

Nymeria's radiating a sense of smugness, almost as if to say to me 'I knew she was alive.' and to Arya 'See, I kept him alive.'. Neither of us actually looks at her. It's such a natural thing to go to each other that I don't realise either of us has moved until we're locked in each other's arms. That's when I know with absolute certainty that this is real, when I can feel her in my arms. She's shaking, and she's not the only one.

"Arry…" I whisper again. "You came home."

"You knew I would." she reminds me. "Before the Games, before I knew myself what I could do… you knew I could win."

"Yes. But… at the end… I thought you were gone forever… I thought I'd lost you." Tears well in my eyes. My tears for her have always been secret, shed in the darkness. My tears of relief fall onto her hair and I don't bother to try to stop them.

"We barely got away. One of the arrows got me in the leg, and I couldn't move for ages. Rue and I had to hide. She kept me alive. We stayed hidden for nearly a year, trying to stay away from the Targaryen soldiers, until we learned that the war was over. Then she went home, south to Starfall, and I came north. But I kept getting lost, and there are rovers everywhere and… Gods, I've been travelling for so long. I thought I'd never get home."

"You're home now." I reassure her. "You're safe."

"Yes. It was worth it. Everyone's free now."

"Thanks to you. You gave us a chance."

"You took it. I knew you'd look after them, Gendry. I've missed you." Her voice is soft, shaking. "I've missed everyone so much, but… so many times, I wished you were with me."

"I've missed you, too. Every day." I hug her tighter, vaguely aware of Bran staring in awe from somewhere nearby.

After a long moment Arya lifts her head and looks up at me, her eyes and cheeks shining with tears. Her hair's matted, her face is dirty and her eyes look older but she's barely changed. She frowns thoughtfully and reaches up to tug at my beard.

"You need to shave." she tells me firmly, and then she promptly passes out in my arms.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading this, I hope you enjoyed it. I wrote this a few years ago and that last line was a reference to something, but I now can't remember what it was. It's probably some really obscure thing that no-one but me's ever heard of, but if anyone recognises it, please could you let me know in the reviews? It's annoying that I can't remember. Thanks. :)