A/N: Can I just say, I've had a fabulous review that absolutely made my day. Seriously, it heartened me. AnabellaGC, muchas gracias. Insightful reviews that address specific themes, characters, plot points, or quotes are so perfect. Feel free to express confusion, suggestions, doubts, and the like; but 'constructive' criticism really helps, ya know. Also, I accept outright encouragement. Now, on to the meat of the story. Oh Gendry, I just love you too much, though I cannot guarantee things will go your way.

Just One of the Recruits

Arya

It wasn't hard to find the means of her escape. She knew the dungeons and the sewers, she knew the schedule of the guards, and she knew the shadows. It was the other part that she found difficult. She told no one, not sure who to trust. She gathered very few supplies- the rest of the herbs, a few rubies from her mourning necklace, so red they were almost black, the blade of course, and the official document and ring. She dressed in her dark pants and tunic, covered all with a hood, and slunk down in the dead of night to the secret passage she'd found before, well, the intriguing prisoner had shown her. It was only when she was in the pitch black of the sewers, prepared to break into the depths of Fleabottom that she came across her first real obstacle.

Why did she hesitate to cut her hair? It was such a silly thing. After everything, all the risks, all the planning, all the steps; but it felt like she was truly giving up herself. Her hair had been with her from the first. She tried to tell herself it was worth it, for her life, for her family's honor, but still she couldn't. It wasn't until she rationalized it would make her less beautiful, that no one would look at her with lust again, that she sprang to action. She cut, well mostly sawed, and hacked at her hair in uneven clumps, shaving her head near bald in some spots. It even hurt a bit, but pain meant almost nothing to her now. She couldn't quite see the tresses fall into the muck, but she knew they had fallen. Binding her chest was suffocating, but the effect of her shirt lying flat was worth it. Next, she rolled around in the mud, dirtying up her brother's fine clothes in an attempt to disguise their good quality. She dipped her boots as well, and kicked them against the walls to scuff them as best she could. She meant to pass for a pauper, an abused orphan boy, dirty, poor, lost.

She wandered for a bit. More of a need to than because she was actually lost. She would be glad to be out of King's Landing. She had tried to help the people, in her way, and failed. All that mattered was getting out of the city unseen, the last avenue the royals would expect. She couldn't quite predict how long it would be until they noticed her absence and came looking for her, or if they would. But she knew she would have to be the opposite of herself. A poor recruit from the Night's Watch was as far from being a disgraced lady as she could imagine. And Yoren, the kind crow who had treated her with respect, was headed North.

As she came upon the group of recruits, she was a little concerned someone might recognize her. She'd kept her hood up when visiting the dungeons, and her breasts were bound painfully tight now, but a part of her still worried. But no one looked twice at her; a dirty, stinky young boy, skinny and of average height. The pouch that held all her valuables she kept in her crotch, it felt strange, but had the added benefit of the appearance of a decent appendage. She thought it could only help her position.

She recognized some from the dungeon, and was careful not to look any of them in the eye. But there were more, making it a rather large group, twenty she counted, which she was quite thankful for. Her eyes landed on Yoren, and she felt something in her gut settle. She stared for longer than she should have, but eventually he gazed back at her. His face showed surprise briefly, then a nod, before he turned away. She calmed further, Yoren knew, and he knew not to draw too much attention her way. She felt she had made the right choice. Still, she was anxious to exit the city walls. She would feel much safer away from the Lannisters. Past that, well, she really couldn't think that far ahead.

She noticed two boys approaching out of the corner of her eye; they looked a bit younger, but quite a bit bigger. One was rather fat, the other blonde and fair, with greenish hands.

"Oye! Boy." The fat one says. It takes her a moment to realize he's speaking to her. She doesn't respond, not even sure if her voice will work. Also, she's concerned about how it will sound.

"Hey, we're talking to you, boy." She ignores the other one too. The fat one bumps into her, hard, knocking her over.

"He can't hear too good, I think. Look, he's got a blade. What's a gutter rat like you doin' with a blade?" Still, she doesn't respond, even as they push her about.

"Maybe he's a squire."

"He ain't no squire, he looks like a girl." She starts to panic, but tries hard not to let it show.

"Let's have a look, then." The blonde one suggests, and the fat one shoves her over.

"I could use fine steel like that. Give it 'ere."

"Youse better give it boy. He's killed before."

"Aye. I've kicked a boy to death. I'll kick you to death." She's pondering the embarrassment of dying here, now, by this lot. "Give it me." And he reaches for it. By an instinct, which she can't quite place, she pulls out the steel and points it at his fat belly.

"Don't test me. I will gut you. I don't mind. I might even like it." She might. The terrified look on his face brings her a kind of sick satisfaction. She wonders if this is what Joffrey must have felt. She has the power. She wants to see him bleed a bit. She hasn't stuck him yet, but with each step he takes one backwards, until they run into a hard surface. A brick wall almost, but no, it's a man. No, it's a boy.

"You like picking on the li'l ones do you? I've been hammering an anvil these past ten years, when I hit that steel, it sings." He has a dangerous look. "You gonna sing when I hit you?" He asks. The fat boy stumbles away, about ready to piss his pants. He turns his gaze to her, and she has to clench her jaw to stop from gasping. Those eyes. He's alive. She doesn't know whether to praise the Gods or to curse them. Indirectly, he'd caused her father's death. And in this moment, she wants nothing to do with him.

"Alright?" He asks. This makes her angry. How dare he ask that? How dare he make her feel weak? How dare he have those eyes?

"Fine." She says testily.

"Don't get mixed up with them lot." He warns, looking at her strangely, greasy black hair hanging over his eyes. She knows why the others fled. She can see his muscles rippling, the leather vest he's wearing missing sleeves.

"They started it." She explains, trying her best to emulate a deeper tone.

"Well, be careful, yeah." Why did he help her, what does he want? His kind blue eyes only remind her of what he's indirectly taken from her, so she just says.

"I can take care of myself." It's more a growl than anything, and she storms off, putting the blade back in its sheath. She thinks she might feel his eyes on the back of her neck, but she keeps walking, determined to put as much distance between them as possible. Either he's bad luck or she is. Either way, she doesn't want to anger The Gods any further. She doesn't think any of it is his fault, not really. But he's a part of it. Being near him can't be good fortune. Besides, if anyone saw them together they might put two and two together. She wants the whole mess behind her. Getting home, seeing Jon, that's all she can focus on right now. Not bright blue eyes, not a sweet gutter accent. Get through the gates, be a boy, be anyone but yourself.

"Alright you sorry sons of whores, it's a thousand leagues to the wall. Move your arses!" Yoren shouts. They all file out, and somehow she's wedged between the two bullies and the smith. Her breathing is a bit shallow as she passes the guards at the gate, but she makes it through without incident. She breathes, the first hurdle crossed. Now there's just the thousand leagues.

They walk and walk and walk. She suspects this will make up the bulk of the journey. She doesn't mind so much, only she isn't really used to it. The two boys start to hassle her again, but the bastard boy gives them a warning look, and they change their minds. She's not sure why he's bothering, but it annoys her. She wants distance from him, so she walks faster. If she thinks about him, she'll think about her father. And she can't right now. She won't let any of them see her cry. She's relatively sure she can't anyway. She hasn't decided if she's glad he's alive or not, and she definitely doesn't want to delve into those complex emotions on Day One.

That first day is tough, though she doesn't complain. A few do, whining and asking for breaks, but she bites her tongue, for once, she's learned her lesson. When they finally settle for the night, she drops where she stands. The physical exertion unlike anything she's ever felt. On the trip with her father, they'd had horses and frequent breaks. Actually, the closest was the long hour shifts at the Sept, which allowed no breaks, babies creating their own time tables. She really does fall, unmindful of comfort, warmth, or nourishment. Her eyes flutter closed, relieved from the many miles distance she'd put between herself and the capital; that the blue-eyed bastard has to shove her roughly to get her attention.

"What?" She asks annoyed, more than exhausted.

"Here." And he hands her some bread and stew. She eyes it for a few moments before accepting the bowl. She slowly sips the contents, pocketing the bread, but all the while eyes him suspiciously. What does he want? What does he know? He's managed to keep those assholes at bay though.

She nods, as much thanks as she's willing to give.

"They'll forget about you soon enough." He placates. Her initial reaction is that he's exhibiting simple kindness. But she knows that's impossible. The bowl is empty, but she's still ravenous, so she licks the inside of the bowl, uncaring of etiquette. It's only after she finishes that he introduces himself.

"I'm Gendry by the way." And he sticks out his hand for her to shake. She notices layers of dirt beneath his fingernails. She wants to ignore him, or better yet tell him to go fuck himself. But she thinks it will draw even more attention to her awkwardness. It takes her another few moments to choose a name for herself.

"Ari." She tells him, shaking his hand in turn. She notices how strong and callused his palm is. He holds her hand longer than necessary, looking at her strangely, and she pulls her hand back violently. She can't help how soft her hands are, how high her voice is, but she is trying to compensate as best she can.

"Stew's not bad." He says, by way of small talk.

"I've had worse." She agrees, though that is certainly a lie. She can already tell that making her voice low will be a challenge, and she'll have to be careful not to speak overly educated.

He's looking at her, well, studying her more like. She turns her face; careful to keep her bruised and battered side in his sight.

He looks about to say more, so she gets up abruptly, where the strength comes from she cannot know, and brings her dish to the boys tasked with the washing for the first shift. Then, she runs off to a secluded spot to relieve herself, before finding a soft place to lay her head. The others settle in, and before she can let herself relax, she sees an infinitesimal signal from Yoren for her to follow. She does so eagerly, calling upon a store of energy she hadn't known she possessed.

They retreat to a secluded part of the woods, far enough away from the others to ensure privacy.

"What are you doing here? How did you manage to…" She doesn't answer, only goes up to him and hugs him tightly. He smells of the North, and his beard is rough, she can almost pretend it is her father giving her comfort as his arms wrap about her.

"Yoren. I don't know what to do. I panicked. I just, want to go home."

"And you will. I'll see to it. But this is a dangerous road. And these aren't exactly genteel travelling companions."

"They can't be much worse than the lords and ladies at court." She comments.

"Well, you'll need to be careful. Hold your water 'til you're sure you're alone. Tell no one, trust no one. I won't be able to help you or give you any special attention. It'll only mark you out. You'll be on your own, but I'll get you where you need to go. For your father, and for you. Do you understand, boy?"

"Ari." She says. He nods in understanding.

"Aye, Ari the orphan boy then. So it is. Watch yourself. We won't have much time to talk after this."

"Thank you Yoren. Thank you, thank you."

"Thank me when I've got you home safe. And be smart, as I know you can be."

"My family will reward you for your loyalty, I promise…"

"Stop that. I don't want no reward. Just to get all of you back safe, no more, no less."

"And what if? I mean, some of them might know me, even recognize me…"

"They won't. Men are stupid. They don't notice anything unless they know what it is they're looking for. Sometimes, not even then. You play the part right, none o' them will ever know the difference. That is what you must count on. For if they do, they'll sell you to The Queen. But first, they'll rape ya. And I won't be able to stop it."

"I will. I'll do all I can. Thank you, Yoren."

"Think nothing of it. Now run along now." And she does leave, recognizing the dismissal for what it is. Most are settled, there's a hush all over the camp as all are too exhausted. She sees a cage with three men, and instantly recognizes the one with red and white hair, but she's careful not to look too long. A ways off she sees the fat one, already asleep, and makes a decision. As quiet as she can, she sneaks up to where he lays, and presses her blade to his throat. He wakes with a start; fear plain in his black eyes and fat cheeks.

"I don't sleep much." She says by way of warning, making her voice as low and menacing as it will go. "Understand?" She asks, pressing the blade down harder. And he nods vigorously, neck fat bobbing. She gets a blanket from the wagon, pleased, and sets herself up close enough to the fire to stay warm, but far enough back to be able to keep a safe distance from the others. Gendry lays his pallet down beside her, and she feels a mixture of confusion, annoyance, and safety that she simply can't deal with right now. She closes her eyes, but doesn't sleep, her muscles get the chance to rest though, and she can feel each twitch in turn.

Again the royal bastard walks beside her, and the two idiots keep their distance, the fat one throwing concerned looks her way. She takes it in with satisfaction. If Gendry knows about her nightly warning, he doesn't show it. She peeks at him when he isn't looking, and she wonders if she'll ever be able to look at him without feeling irrationally angry, without blaming him. But still she can't seem to help it, she keeps looking over, he catches her once and smiles back, aw dam nit. Her legs and feet ache, her face still stings, and her chest feels squeezed tight. She's glad; it takes her mind off of painful thoughts. Though it's dull, not half as scenic and pretty as the first time…

She shakes it off and tries a new tack. Left. Right. Left. Right. The trees. The trees down here are simple redwoods. She can't wait to see her own trees, the trees of The North. No, stop. Right. Left. Right. Left. She focuses on the birds instead. There are birds chirping, but she doesn't know what kind. It's pretty though, she can almost pretend it's the chorus of "The Roadside Rose" a love song some of the girls used to sing. She steps extra hard on a rock and pops a blister to stop herself from humming.

This time, when Yoren calls for them to stop for the night, Arya rushes off to make water as the others get food, grateful for their distraction. She goes to the line late to pick up her food herself. She does need to eat, and she won't have that overly sweet giant of a boy bringing her food again. It's squirrel in broth, bland and tasteless. One of the recruits is handy with traps. Maybe a bit thinner portion due to her place at the end of the line. But she still has the bread from before. It's fine. She sits far off from the others and receives a nod and an almost smile from Yoren before he turns to other business. The boy, Gendry, sits beside her again, and despite herself she's glad for his presence, that is, until he starts speaking again.

"What'd you do to the boy?" He asks. She just stares at him. Unperturbed, he continues. "He looks like he's about to fill his pants, that one." He motions over to the fat boy in question, who looks away quickly at the attention, whispering heatedly with the skinny blonde. A corner of her mouth quirks up at his obvious fear, but it causes pain to shoot through her face and she immediately drops her face back to normal.

"What happened there?" He asks, and she mistakes his pointing for an attempt to touch her, so she tenses up. "Looks painful." He says dropping his hand.

"Got hit." She explains. He nods.

"I can see that. Looks painful though. What'd you do?"

"Asked too many stupid questions." She answers sarcastically. He nods amicably.

"Yeah, gotta be careful 'a that." He smiles around his mouthful, and she can't be sure if he takes her full meaning.

"Why do you keep hanging round me?"

"'Cause you're just so friendly, that's why. And 'cause I'm dyin' a boredom. I'm used to workin' day in, day out. Now I'm just walkin', lost in my thoughts. I gotta have somethin' to distract me."

"Just find somewhere else to sit, yeah." She suggests.

"The others might be better to talk to, but I can't exactly trust 'em. Rapers and murderers and the like. At least I can tell you don't like me, you don't exactly hide it. The way I figure it, there's no where to go but up." He says good-naturedly.

"And what am I to make of you? I can't tell what you want." She reasons.

"I just told you. And if I wanted to hurt ya, I would have already."

She knows it's the truth, and she doesn't have a real reason to dislike his company except that she doesn't know how to be around anybody just now. He must take her silence for acquiescence because he goes on.

"You're a thief then, eh." He says.

"I'm not a thief." She responds angrily.

"Oh yeah? Did you buy that little blade? That's castle-forged steel, that." He asks one eyebrow raised.

One thing the court had taught her was how to speak without saying anything. To lie, you needed to include partial truths, easier to keep straight. And from what she knew of him, he hadn't yet lied to her. There were enough falsehoods running around her brain, she might as well stay as true as possible.

"It was a gift." She admits. He smiles at her.

"Can I see it?" He asks politely. She hesitates. "I'm not gonna nick it." Still she hesitates, but realizes the longer she waits, the odder it must seem. So she does, reluctantly.

He fingers it carefully, lovingly. She sees him finger the words her brother had had engraved for her and has to squeeze her fist to keep from reaching for it back. He hands it back without incident, and she breathes a bit more easily.

"Beautiful steel, balanced. Whoever gave that to you, cared a lot." She swallows at that, putting the blade away carefully. "So if you're not a thief, which are you? Raper or Murderer?" He's joking, she's reasonably sure.

"Neither."

"Really?"

"Yes. What about you?" For the first time since she's met him he looks uncomfortable.

"My master got sick a me. Told me to head for The Wall, that I had no place with him. I could go with The Watch or take to the streets. I chose to freeze my ass off. Stupid, eh?" He shrugs it off like it's nothing, but she can tell it upsets him.

It's then she knows it wasn't his master who'd gotten sick of him. Her father must have arranged it, to save him. He must have cared, must have wanted the boy safe. The oldest son of his oldest friend. Perhaps her father's death was because of Gendry, but that didn't make it his fault. Her father had wanted the boy to live; it's what he'd wanted. And just like that, all the animosity is gone. But none of the caution.

"My brother's at The Wall." She tells him. He looks surprised at the personal tidbit.

"Oh aye? You're lucky. You know someone there, I don't got no one there."

"You've got a skill, I'm sure they'll be glad to have a smith at The Wall."

"How'd you know I was a smith?" He questions. Think quick, Arya.

"You said so yesterday, didn't you?" He accepts her answer.

"I'm not a smith, just a 'prentice." He's modest. She's always liked that quality.

"You make that helm?" She asks.

"Aye." And his face lights up. She holds her hand out, a clear request to see it more closely. He's as reluctant to hand it over as she'd been earlier, but he does so. She can tell it's fine; her brothers would have loved work like his. She hands it back.

"It's nice." She says simply. He's very pleased, a big toothy smile lighting up his face.

They're interrupted by the two bullies, and immediately she puts her guard back up. Gendry doesn't move, but his posture stiffens and his gaze turns dangerous.

"Oye, umm, hi. I'm Hot Pie. And this is Lommy." The fat one says. She's confused as to where this is going. If he's waiting for an introduction from her, he's mistaken.

The blonde stutters on. "We're sorry, 'bout the other day. We didn't mean nothing. Just wanted to look tough and all that. We don't want no trouble." He says. They don't want their throats slit, she reasons.

"Have a seat." Gendry invites. She turns to glare at him, but he doesn't look back at her. The boys gratefully sit down by them. "I'm Gendry, this is Ari." He introduces. For fucksakes. The boys smile warmly at them, and then she has to sit through dull talk and monotonous drivel. How was this happening? She'd wanted to stay alone, unnoticed. They all settle for the night, the two boys seeming to think they can sleep near her and Gendry.

Gendry nudges her with his elbow. "We're better off together." He says.

She wants to run off into the woods, to huff and move her blanket to a far away corner, to be free of warm smiles and friendly conversation. Letting herself like Gendry was already a horrible mistake, the other two would only be an annoyance. And a weakness. But as she looks around camp, she can see they're all scattered into smaller groups. It's normal, what's expected. It would look more suspicious to stay alone she rationalizes a little too easily. As she lies down, surrounded by the body heat of the three others, more comfortable, and more relaxed, she feels her eyes water a bit. It's harder, she thinks, to let herself be human. Luckily no one can see; it's too dark. No tears actually fall, anyhow.

A/N: Thanks to all who are still here. This got really long, because I'm so excited to write it. I'll probably post more within a couple days; I have a lot of great road adventures for Arya, Gendry, and the others. If you have any preferences for how Gendry finds out Arya is a girl, please let me know, I'm still undecided. Or, just review please.