A/N: Oh god I bet you all hate me now. I'm so sorry, I know I promised not to do this again, but I did. I've just been so busy and have been getting little to no sleep these past few days... And last night I went to see my first concert ever (Kaskade fans, anyone?) and it was absolutely amazing but left me no time to post this chapter like I had planned.

As you can tell, this one is a bit longer than the rest, and is kind of a filler and kind of fluffy. It's (for the most part) unedited, because I felt so bad for making you guys wait so long. Unfortunately, this might become normal for the next few days/weeks because I'll be going to another 2-day concert next week, then a roadtrip, and then out of country. Again, I'll try my very best to write whenever I can. I hope you guys will understand :(

ETA: Abbymaie - Sexy time will come soon enough, I promise. I've been browsing choice tags on tumblr -*cough*joedempsie*cough*cough*tomhiddleston*cough* - to prep my mood for an upcoming chapter. Calm yo titties and gird your loins~

It was just past seven o'clock when Gendry had stormed out of her room, and Arya had about – if Masha's estimations were correct – one or two hours before the other guests were to return from their evening hunt. That's more than enough time to plan, Arya thought, suddenly feeling very sleepy. I have time for a quick ten-minute nap... was what she told herself right before she woke up when there was a rap at her door nearly two hours later.

"Arry?" a voice Arya did not recognize came from without the room, muffled by the wooden barrier between them.

Arya glanced at the wall clock and saw that it was almost nine. "Shit," she cursed quietly to herself. Her hand slid under the pillow to retrieve her dagger. She tucked it securely into her left boot as she replied, "Just a minute!" Then, as she reached for her shorts, she stopped herself. Fuck it, guess I'll just wing it.

"Um," the voice spoke again. "Masha just wanted me to let you know that – "

"Yes?" Arya swung the door open, only slightly breathless from rushing across the room.

"Oh," the young man standing before her blinked dumbly. In the dimness of the yellow-orange light she could see that he had sandy colored hair and eyes so dark and blue they appeared almost purple. And though he stood nearly a whole head taller than her, his presence was not intimidating the way Gendry's was.

Arya arched an eyebrow at his prolonged silence. "Yes?" she repeated.

"Oh," he said again. "Um," he promptly averted his eyes and refocused them on something very fascinating on the wall beside the door frame. "Did you want to change first?" he asked, clearing his throat nervously.

Looks like I'll be needing a lot of alcohol, Arya reflected as she assessed the boy before her. "Crap," she feigned surprise and embarrassment, "sorry. I was in such a rush to answer the door I forgot..." she looked down, for the second time tonight, at her underwear.

"No, no," the young man said quickly, "it's my fault for disturbing you. I just came to tell you that supper will be served soon. I'll leave you to whatever it is you need to do now."

"Wait!" Arya blurted as he turned to go, reaching out and laying a gentle hand on his forearm. She smiled shyly when his eyes met hers. "I mean, I won't be long. Will you wait for me? I don't often get to meet many people..." her sentence trailed off.

The small smile playing at the boy's lips told Arya that she had successfully taken the first step forward. "I'll wait here," he assured her, stepping back so she could close the door. Not a minute later Arya stood in front of him again, this time fully clad in her shorts.

"I'm Ned," the young man introduced himself properly, offering her his hand.

Arya hesitated, not at the hand, but at the name. Her father's name. She couldn't remember the last time she had heard it, or even thought about it. Days? Weeks? Months? The memory was like a fist closing around her heart, squeezing until the blood ran dry. With substantial effort, she willed the painful thoughts from her head.

Mistaking her hesitation for rejection, Ned pulled back, though slow enough so that Arya could catch it before it fell completely to his side. She shook it twice, then grinned up half-heartedly at him. "It isn't you," she explained, "it's just, my father's name was also Ned. But he's gone now."

Ned looked at her with sympathetic eyes. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "You can call me Edric instead. My full name is Edric Dayne."

Dayne... Arya tasted the name on her tongue. Where had she heard it before?

"I'm Arry," she stated the obvious, pushing the previous thought out of her mind. Before Edric could ask for a last name, she continued with, "I hope I didn't make anyone wait. I'm not even that hungry."

"Not at all, we just got back."

"We?"

"My uncle and a few of his friends."

"Oh. What are you guys here for?"

"Hunting trip," Edric seemed to answer a tad too quickly. Then, as if realizing this himself, he hurriedly asked the same of Arya.

"Roadtrip," the lie came easily to her. "Me and two of my friends."

"Is one of them a girl?"

Arya peered at him suspiciously. "No. Why do you ask?"

"I – " he hesitated, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to sound creepy or anything. I was just wondering... I mean... you're traveling with three guys alone..."

"Have you met them yet?" she asked him.

"Only Gendry," he answered. "He's an... interesting individual."

Arya laughed aloud at that, then realized, when she suddenly felt a roomful of eyes fall on her, that they had arrived in the dining hall. Of all the faces fixed on her, the first she picked out from the crowd was Gendry's: stern, but otherwise unreadable. "Yeah," she spoke softly so only Edric could hear, "that he certainly is."

No doubt perplexed by Arya's odd tone, Edric took pause before changing the subject. "Would you like a drink? I'm afraid Uncle Beric is still skinning some of the rabbits we brought back."

"Does Masha have alcohol?" she requested immediately.

Edric gave her a questioning look. "How old are you?"

Arya's lips pursed into a hard line. Begrudgingly, she told him: "eighteen."

"Hm," her new friend contemplated a moment, cupping his chin with brows furrowed and eyes downcast. "That could be a bit of a problem." Then, bringing his eyes back to hers, he smiled and said, "Lucky for you I'm twenty-one, and Masha here is an old friend of Beric's. I suppose I could get you a martini or cocktail or..."

His suggestions made Arya shake her head, amusement coupled with pity. She touched his arm again (that's what Sansa always did with Joffrey) and felt him stiffen ever-so-slightly under her fingertips. "Nothing fruity, please," she offered a small chuckle. "Is there scotch? Vodka? Whiskey? Anything strong."

Despite the conflict in the young man's eyes, a smirk still tugged at the corner of his lips. "I'll see what I can do," was all he said before disappearing into another room.

Arya only had a second's respite after Edric was gone before she was reimmersed in company.

"I see you've caught our young lad's eye, there, eh?" a sweet-sounding voice intoned from behind.

"I don't think so," Arya turned to disagree with a man sporting long, thin brown hair. He had a hooked nose and looked to be about fifty or sixty years of age.

"No?" the man said lightly. "A shame, then... I'm Tom O'Sevens, by the way," he introduced himself, extending a hand bestowed with impossibly long and nimble fingers.

Arya shook it and asked, "Do you play an instrument?"

"Ah, an observant one, I see. As a matter of fact, little lady, I do. The harp, to be precise. And I sing, too. Would you like to hear?"

"No one wants to hear any more of your insufferable singing," another stranger approached them. "You scared away half the forest while we were out hunting." The newcomer looked to be in his thirties, with a shock of red hair and freckles to match. His easy grin contrasted sharply with his berating manner towards Tom. "I'm Anguy," he inclined his head politely in Arya's direction, "Anguy Archer. A pleasure to meet you."

"Arry..." she reciprocated slowly, her eyes darting between the two men. "Nice to meet you, too."

"So, Arry," Anguy said, straddling the wooden bench, "what brings you to the middle of nowhere?"

Arya shot a swift glance in Gendry's direction. He wasn't alone anymore, she saw. Jeyne sat beside him, nursing a cup of dark drink and laughing at something that Gendry apparently did not find very funny at all.

Tom, following her gaze, asked, "Your boyfriend?"

"No!" she retorted immediately. Gendry would make a terrible boyfriend, she decided. Stubborn and short-tempered. And dumb as a... a... It doesn't matter! she all but screamed at herself. Gendry is stupid and you're better off without him. "He's just a friend," she said to both Tom and Anguy. We're supposed to be on a roadtrip, but then we got lost."

"Oh?" it was Anguy now. "Where are you two going?"

"Three," she corrected, "we have another friend upstairs. He's... sleeping."

"I see. And where are you three going?"

Shit. Hadn't thought that one through. Thankfully, Arya was saved the effort of conjuring a lie when Edric reappeared with what she hoped to be something very potent.

"I see you've met my uncle's friends," Edric smiled as he placed a shotglass in front of her. He lined another few beside hers, then pulled the two bottles of what could only be vodka out from under his arms and planted it firmly on the table. "Care to join us?" he asked the men.

"Not until I get something in my belly first," Tom scowled. "I'm afraid my aging body can no longer boast the tolerance I once had as a youth."

"Speak for yourself, old man," Aguy laughed, snatching up an empty glass and raising it up to the still-standing Edric. "Hit me."

"Does your friend want to join us?" Edric spoke as he poured for Anguy.

Arya craned her neck around a second time in Gendry's direction. Her stomach did a strange flip when his eyes locked with hers, as if she were embarrassed that he caught her looking. Don't be silly, she scolded herself yet again, you have every reason to be looking. She raised her cup at him as an invitation, but his lips drew into a line and he looked away without a word."What a dick," she mumbled bitterly.

"What'd you say?" Anguy chirped as he smelled the contents of his drink.

"Nothing," she handed her glass over to be filled, "he doesn't want to drink."

"Why not?" Tom, who had left and come back in an instant, strummed his harp as he asked the question.

"He's just upset because I can outdrink him."

"You?" Anguy barked in laughter. "Can your stomach hold more than a pint of beer? I'll bet Lem's leather coat weighs more than you do."

The comment elicited a chuckle from Tom, but Arya, who didn't even know who Lem was, remained resolute. "I bet I can outdrink you, too," she challenged. "All of you, as a matter of fact." She leaned back and crossed her arms smugly, waiting for a reply.

Edric and Anguy exchanged a single look before turning their attention back to Arya. "Challenge accepted," they said at the same time. The three then raised their glasses in unison and swallowed the contents in one gulp, thus marking the beginning of a long night.

The alcohol was still flowing even after supper – which consisted of skewered grilled beef, baked potatoes, and rabbit and vegetable soup – was over. Tom, true to his word, had passed out long before the chocolate stout cake and peach cobbler dessert, after not being able to wait until his stomach was full enough before accepting Arya's challenge.

"He's the lucky one," Thoros chuckled beside her. "It took me years to lose over one hundred pounds, and now Masha – damn that wretched woman – has undone nearly half my success in a single night.

Arya smiled at the doctor, partly from imagining him being fat, but mostly from the eight shots of vodka and two bottles of beer. It was well past twelve o'clock now, but the room seemed to be getting warmer – not colder – by the minute.

Her eyes grazed the dining hall and found Anguy in the corner talking about his knife with Lem. Lem Lemoncloak, whom Arya had met shortly before the meal, was a hulk of a man, almost as big as Robert Baratheon, but with muscle where Robert had fat. His leather coat, which Anguy had used for a rough comparison to her weight, was, indeed, very large and very heavy. But despite his frightening appearance, the man was – more or less – amiable when drunk.

Continuing their rotation around the room, her eyes stopped on Beric Dondarrion next. Edric's uncle – though he was less an uncle and more an extremely close family friend, Arya had learned not long after meeting the man – was ruggedly handsome, with red-gold hair and a matching, close-trimmed beard. But though he looked like a man with charisma and charm, he was, as it turned out, very quiet and recluse; a man, Arya mused, with secrets. And just now, as he nodded in acknowledgment at her, she knew that he would be the first to retire for the night.

Masha and Willow came into her field of view after Beric. Willow was looking rather put out as she collected the dirty plates and dishes strewn across the table, but Masha was wearing her usual smile. It was then that Arya realized that Jeyne and Gendry were nowhere to be found. The room wasn't very large, so it wasn't like they were hiding in a nook or cranny. Arya scrunched up her nose in distaste. Why should she care what they were doing? Jeyne was a dolt and Gendry was a dick. They deserved each other.

"Arry?" Edric's voice interrupted her thoughts. "You okay?"

Arya whirled around to find Edric a mere inches away from her face. Instead of being flustered, however, she laughed. When he asked her what was so funny, she responded truthfully: "You look like a tomato."

She didn't think Edric could get any redder, but she was put to shame when a blush rose up his neck to his cheeks and turned him brighter than a flame. She laughed again, but took his hand in hers. "Come on," she said, "let's get some fresh air."

Moving from the inn to the outdoors was like stepping out from an oven into a refrigerator. Arya shivered involuntarily.

"Are you cold?" Edric frowned. "We can go back inside."

"I want to stay out here," she said, rubbing her goose-fleshed arms.

Concern still lining his face, Edric unzipped his jacket and threw it over Arya's shoulders.

"Thanks," she muttered as she drew it tighter around her body. "Come on, let's walk." Arya stepped forward, but was pulled back when Edric didn't move. "What's the matter?" she taunted, "afraid of the dark?"

"It's not that," he said softly, "it's just..."

"What?" she tugged playfully at his hand. For a moment, she didn't think he would budge. But when she flashed him her most charming smile, he gave in. Now I know how Sansa got away with everything, she realized with sudden understanding. She wished desperately that her sister was still alive to teach her a few more nifty tricks.

She and Edric walked for about an hour before either spoke a word. Arya was the first to shatter the quiet. "I've never seen so many stars before," she breathed in wonder as the moon hovered ominously up ahead.

"It really is lovely here," he agreed, tilting his own head to the sky.

"The trees are nice, too," Arya dropped her gaze. "They remind me of the ones back at home." She regretted saying that even before she finished the sentence. Fuck, she panicked, stupid, stupid, stupid. And I'm not even drunk anymore. What's wrong with me?

"Where are you from?" Edric asked the expected, though she flinched nonetheless.

But by the will of the infinitely merciful deities above, there was a rustle of leaves nearby. "What was that?" Arya whispered, grateful beyond words at the distraction.

"Probably just an animal," her companion whispered back.

They stood frozen for several seconds before the rustling came again, this time followed by a deep voice. "... should get back," she heard it say. "... don't think she's out here." It took her no effort to identify it as Gendry's voice. But who was he talking to? As if in answer, a second voice joined in as they got closer. "... stay. It's so beautiful."

"That's Jeyne," Edric spoke directly into her ear. His breath sent a shiver down her spine, despite its warmth.

This is too perfect, she thought. "Come on," she nudged him gently with her elbow, intentionally pressing herself into the fold of his body. "Let's sneak up on them."

Crouching low, Arya tiptoed forward – Edric trailing close behind – with her fingers still entwined with his. The earth beneath her boots was damp and soft, drowning the sound of her footfalls. Twigs were strewn all across the ground, and Arya was careful not to step on one... at least not yet. She had to get closer first. They weren't far now, she knew. Just a few more steps. One foot in front of the other... until finally, she saw them. Through the thick of the brush she could see that their backs were to her, and Jeyne's shoulder was tactfully pressed against Gendry's arm as they stood staring at the sky.

There was a twig at Arya's feet, just waiting to be snapped. And so, not being one to disappoint, she did as was expected: she stepped on it.

The sound might not have been much louder than the squeak of a mouse, but in the deafening silence that draped the night, the snap of the twig rang as loud as church bells on a Sunday morning.

Arya spun around immediately, tucking her head into Edric's chest. When she peered up at him she brought a finger to her lips, and left it there until he nodded in understanding. Behind her, she could hear Jeyne and Gendry approaching with caution. As she waited for them to find her, she let her eyes fix on Edric's. In the moonlight they were a striking violet, and for the first time Arya did not need to pretend to be stricken by the young man before her.

And as the footsteps from came closer and closer, Arya leaned forward and kissed him.

His lips were warm and soft, and when she brought her hand to his cheek she felt the burning beneath his skin. Arya's first kiss had been when she was sixteen. It was with a boy named Mycah, the son of her father's favorite local butcher. They had both been pathetically unpracticed at the time, but Arya was a quick learner, while Mycah had never been the sharpest tool in the shed. It had been two years since she'd kissed somebody, but when Edric's tongue slipped past her lips to tangle itself with hers, she knew she still had it.

She sucked in a sharp breath through her nose as his one hand snaked around her neck to draw her in closer, while his other hand ran slowly down her side – from her shoulders, down to the side of her breast, around the contour of her ribs, to the curve of her waist – in one, smoothe motion. As his fingers crept from her hip, to her bottom, to her back beneath her blouse, Arya leaned in further and... toppled over.

She let out an uncharacteristic giggle just as the curtain of foliage drew back behind them. Arya twisted her neck around and was welcomed by the sight of Gendry's boots.

"Oh," she spoke to his shoes, "hi." Slowly, she eased herself off of Edric and straightened her shirt. Sitting on her feet now, she sniffed once, then looked up at Gendry. "Can we help you?"

The only response she received was a blank stare. No one spoke for a long while.

"Ahem," Edric finally cleared his throat awkwardly behind her, but Gendry paid him no mind. "Ahem," he coughed again. "It's getting late, we should probably go..."

"No," Gendry put in no effort to disguise the bitterness of his tone, "you stay. We'll go. Sorry for intruding on your... moment." With that, he walked away, not even checking to see if Jeyne was following.

Soon after, with the mood ruined, Arya and Edric returned to the inn as well.

The combination of too much food and too much alcohol had clearly taken a toll on Edric's body and mind, and as soon as Arya helped him into bed he was fast asleep, as was everyone else in the Heddles' Bed & Breakfast.

Well, almost everyone.

She heard it as she was making her way back to her room. The unmistakable squeaking of bedsprings, and the poorly muffled sound of pleasure. It came from Gendry's room. A fortunate coincidence that it just happened to share a wall with hers, Arya thought ruefully as she packed what little she owned into a small bag. But when she stepped out into the cold night once more, she couldn't help but stop one last time to say goodbye.

Goodbye to the fat and useless Hot Pie, goodbye to the sweet and unsuspecting Edric, and goodbye to the stupid bullheaded asshole who would have been stopping her from running away right now were he not too busy sticking his dick in crazy. And even though this is what she was expecting all along – what she was planning all along – she still couldn't help but feel a little hurt.

She was a lone wolf now; but it was the lone wolf, not the pack, that survived.

A/N: Alright so this chapter deviates from canon characters a bit. First, Edric is Arya's age in the book, but I like the idea of Arya with older guys more (please don't hate me!). Also, in the book, it is implied that Gendry's love interest is more likely to be Willow than Jeyne. But in a modern AU, Gendry doesn't strike me as someone to go for girls so much younger than him, and I like the idea that Arya would be the only exception. Therefore, I made it Gendry/Jeyne. I apologize to anyone who demands otherwise!