A/N: Dark stuff, be warned.

On the Road 3

Arya

"Well what you lot waiting for? Clean up, go about yer business." Yoren instructs. Arya waits for everyone to get distracted before making to follow Yoren, except Gendry stops her.

"Ari…" He starts. And she imagines he must be going crazy, being left in the dark. She remembers following her father around, snooping through his things, just wanting to be let in on the secret. And this is even about him.

"Come on." She invites. He follows, but he's nervous, she can tell.

Yoren is quite far out, not wanting to take the chance of being overheard. He turns at the sound of their footsteps, and looks unsurprised that Gendry is there too.

"They'll be back, ya know. Make no mistake."

"I know. Yoren, I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen, to get you in trouble. I…"

"You're trouble enough. But when your father asked me to take him, I didn't expect any o' this. Whatta they want with him?" He asks motioning to Gendry. Gendry looks at her expectantly. She opens her mouth to respond. "Never mind, I don't want to know. The less I know the better." She nods, thinking that wise.

"What, exactly, did my father say?"

"Just to take him, keep him from taking the black." Well, that's news to her. Gendry straightens up as well.

"Does The Watch do that?" Gendry asks.

"No, we don't. We're meant to stay outta the affairs o' The Realm. I've broken that now, twice."

"Thank you, Yoren. I promise, once we reach Winterfell, I'll repay The Watch with whatever we have to spare, I swear it."

"It's war now, Boy, you'll have nothin' to spare. And I can't take you to Winterfell, too far, too dangerous."

"I understand; I don't want to endanger you or the others." She says calmly, although inside she's more than afraid of the idea of making it on her own.

"I'm goin' with her." Gendry declares. She's not sure if he's worried for himself or if he's going for her, but she thanks The Gods just in case.

"Of course you are. When we reach the next town, you'll sneak off into the night. You were never here, we don't know you, got that?" They both nod vigorously. "Good luck, then. We won't have another chance to say goodbye. Take care a yourself, Milady." He says with a kind smile. She hugs him tight, missing him already. Yoren walks back out to the others, and they just stay, silent.

"What aren't you tellin' me?" He gets down to it.

"Lots of things. Too many things." She's suddenly so exhausted.

"Why would your father ask The Watch to take me? Why did he give a shit about me?" Well, that was simpler, he'd narrowed it down for her.

"Why do you think?" She'd rather he figure it out on his own, it would be too crazy otherwise.

"No, no. Don't fuck around with me. You knew your father came to see me, didn't you?"

"I wasn't sure. I thought, perhaps, probably. But no, I wasn't sure. And I didn't know what he said to you." He calms a bit at that, but doesn't let up.

"Why would he though?"

"Gendry, I… I don't know how to do this. I tried to talk to you about it earlier, but you didn't want to hear it. Maybe we should wait a bit for you to calm down…"

"What? When did you try to talk to me about this?"

"You made it sound like you've never even wondered about your father."

"My father. What does that have to do with anything?" He's exasperated now.

"Come on, Gendry. Hasn't anyone ever stared for too long? Remarked on similarities? Why would my father, The Hand, and The Hand before him come to see you? Why would The Kingsguard come all this way to look for you? You must have known, or suspected."

"I'm nobody. I've always been nobody." She gently places her palm on his cheek.

"You're important, Gendry. I'm not sure exactly how, but you're not nobody. My father never meant for you to take the black, he must have had something planned. Of course he never told me anything. I had to go snooping around to figure it out, and even I'm still missing some of the pieces."

"Tell me." And his request is so clear and plain, she does just that.

"Your father was King Robert Baratheon." Whatever reaction she expected, she did not get. He starts laughing hysterically.

"Fuck off." He says, still laughing.

"It's true. That's what my father and Jon Arryn wanted with you. They were checking in on the son of their oldest friend. Lord Arryn most likely paid your apprenticeship fee." He stops laughing at that. "You look like him Gendry. Well, sort of. Black hair, blue eyes, and you're big and strong…"

"So what? Lots of people have black hair and blue eyes. That don't mean…"

"No. Lots of people had black hair and blue eyes. Joffrey had them all killed. That's what the Goldcloaks want. Joffrey's having all his father's bastards killed. And, he had quite a lot of them."

"That's not…" But he doesn't finish what he's going to say.

"I heard about it before I left. All over King's Landing, bastards were being murdered. Even the babies." She says, thinking of Ros mourning the little girl.

"Babies?"

"Well, I didn't know of most of them. Only two for sure. But there was a small child in a brothel. Her name was Barra, your sister, I guess. He had her killed, right in front of her mother." She says disgusted.

"But why?"

"Who knows? Joffrey has no morality, no conscience. Killing a small child would be nothing to him." And she says it with such venom that he is at a loss for what else to say.

"This is impossible, Arya. You know that right?"

"Do you believe I'm Arya Stark?" She asks.

"Yes."

"Do you believe I'm lying?"

"I believe you, but…." He looks down at that.

"I know it to be true. I went to the Street of Steel, looking for… well, I didn't know what. I saw you, and I knew right off." This gets his attention again.

"This is crazy." He shakes his head. He's silent for a long time, thinking, putting pieces together. "Well, what do we do next?" And now she's in a state of shock. He's accepted it, or more likely pushed it aside, but he was calm.

"I don't know, I have no plans, I didn't even know you would be here, I swear. I was sure the Goldcloaks were after me, not you. I don't know, I really don't."

"We'll figure it out at the next town, like Yoren said." Ivy Inn, she thought, half way to Harrenhall. "You decide where we go, and we'll go." She wraps her arms around him and hugs him tight.

"Whatever happens, I'm glad you're with me, Gendry." She tells him honestly, a confession she might not have been able to make if she weren't pressed up against him.

He wraps his arms around her too. "I'm with you." He promises.

They try the same trick again, one heading back before the other. She uses the time to finally read the document her father had thought would protect him. He'd written down what The King wrote word for word, careful with his penmanship, and helped his friend to seal it officially with his ring, the wax hot and pliable. She'd been keeping it intact, for what she wasn't sure. She'd wanted to show someone important, her mother, the next king, whoever she could, to clear her father's name. But now, with the Goldcloaks, it was too dangerous. She had a clear picture in her mind of The Queen ripping up the other copy like it was nothing. Only paper, she'd said haughtily.

She scans through it, most of it she remembered. She wanted to memorize it, to be able to recite it upon request. It was as she remembered, until the end. Her father was indeed named Protector of the Realm, but only until an heir could be named. In her memory, which could be wrong, The King had specifically said Joffrey's name. Did her father not want Joffrey to rule? Who did he have in mind in his stead? What other secrets did he hold? Dam nit!

She certainly agreed with her father, Joffrey should in no way sit on the throne. But he couldn't have meant Gendry, could he? Gendry wasn't raised to rule, had no aptitude for it, and would most likely hate it. Then again, anyone would be better than Joffrey. And he'd saved Gendry at the cost of his own life, even going so far as to request he never take his vows on The Wall. What did it all mean? She walked back with more questions than answers, the paper in shreds in her gullet. The unharmed seal she left on the ground.

Everyone was staring at Gendry, burning holes into him with their eyes, and she could tell he was deeply uncomfortable. Of all the possibilities, she never imagined it was Gendry who would have to be careful amongst the rough recruits. She could probably take off her binding and no one would even notice. Her face was almost healed, only mottled yellow.

Hot Pie and Lommy had many questions, but Gendry didn't respond to them. Based on his reluctance, they assumed the absolute least plausible scenarios. They decided he was an infamous murderer or a Dornish spy or a hired sword. He and Arya didn't bother to correct them. In fact, Gendry was particularly quiet, and she was worried about him. She couldn't imagine how much his world had changed in the space of a day. Finding out she was something more must have been a shock, then to know powerful people wanted him dead, and that deadbeat father he'd been hating all his life, was actually a king… There was no possible way he was dealing. That is if he actually believed her, which she suspected he still didn't. Maybe she should have said something sooner, but no matter when or how; it still would have sounded crazy and hurt. And as selfish as it sounded, she was glad for the time they'd had as just Gendry and Ari, no pretentions, and the way it forced them on the same side; they were indeed a team. He'd offered to go with her, even before he knew the whole truth.

That night she laid down first, though much too pensive to sleep. Later Gendry laid down beside her, obviously thinking furiously, she could almost hear it. Sneakily, she squirmed backwards until she was touching him, until she felt his warmth through her tunic; she'd done it gradually, but he must have noticed. She wasn't sure why, or what she expected, but it had felt right. She sighs softly in contentment as he puts his arm over her, after much deliberation, and she lets him pull her in close. She feels him fall asleep and follows soon after, uncaring of prying eyes.

In her dreams, her father walks over to her sleeping form, Gendry is there with them, but asleep and unresponsive. She frees herself, and stands to address her father. Is Gendry actually with them, or is it just a symbol?

"You never meant for him to take the black?" She asks him immediately.

"Hello to you too, love. It pleases me greatly to see you well." He jokingly scolds. She laughs and grabs him for a hug.

"Are you really here?" She asks, smelling his unique scent.

"I can't answer that." She sighs deeply.

"Well, what can you tell me? Anything, anything at all?"

"I should have told you more, before. If I had trusted you, maybe things would have turned out differently."

"Maybe." She agrees.

"Fight, sweetheart. That is all I can tell you. Fight."

"I am, I will. But, what…"

"Fight." He says again before disappearing.

She awakes to shouts and clashing steel. Gendry wakes up at the same time, and instantly they're on their feet. The fighting is in full swing, and as her gaze locks on Yoren, she watches arrow after arrow pierce his chest, and it's only Gendry's arms, which stop her from rushing toward him. Apparently when the soldiers promised they would return, they'd meant immediately.

Many of the recruits, men they'd walked beside for weeks, were fighting for their lives. A few had already fallen. She mourned them, even the worst of them.

Gendry led her to some thick bushes and made her promise to stay put.

"Arya, stay here, promise." She nods in agreement, though means to do no such thing. He gets up abruptly.

She pulls on his hand, trying to drag him down beside her.

"I can't Arya. I can't let anyone die for me." He says with conviction.

"You'll die. And I need you." She reasons. He looks at her sadly for only an instant before kissing her lightly on her temple. It's not long, and it's over before she realizes what's happening, and then he's running out to fight. She's furious at him. How dare he risk himself? Did he understand nothing about their current predicament?

She watches the fighting from relative safety behind her makeshift cover. It's killing her to sit still as she watches more fall, valiantly fighting for their lives, and Gendry, and her. It's not right. She sees Gendry, with no weapon, only his size and muscle, take one out from behind, grabbing the man's weapon, and using it. Apparently forging swords had given him at least a basic understanding of wielding them. She watched on as he fought another, clumsily killing him, blood spurting out messily. He was doing well. But there's so much going on, she loses sight of him.

She turns her attention back to the others, and sees Hot Pie dodging blows, surprisingly spry given his weight. She moves from the bushes in case she's needed. Fire catches her attention out of the corner of her eye. The wooden cage is aflame, Jaquen and the other trapped inside.

"Boy." Jaquen shouts. "Lovely boy, help us." He pleads. She's not sure why, but when she sees an axe wedged in a stump she pulls it free and hands it to the Lorathi, who looks at her before handing the weapon off to his companion. Rorge, she believes his name his, starts hacking furiously at the bars.

"No, please." She hears, and turns around to see Hot Pie falling to the ground. She can stand still no longer, she rushes to his aid. No one messes with her pack, not even the fat and weak ones. The soldier has Hot Pie cornered, hovering over him, prolonging the kill out of amusement. She hops on his back and slits his throat, the blood gushing out onto her hands.

The shock of killing freezes her in place, and she meets Hot Pie's scared and shocked eyes. It snaps her out of the stupor; she wipes her bloody hands on the soldier's shirt, and gets up, only to be knocked in the stomach violently. She lays on the ground, trying desperately to catch her breath. She sucks in hard, but can't force any air into her lungs. The panic of not being able to breathe is excruciating. She feels hands take her precious blade, but can do nothing. She's weak, defeated, perhaps about to die.

"Up." The soldier says, voice gruff and demanding. She wants to, but she can't. Hot Pie reaches down and helps her. Still there's no air. He slaps her on the back, and suddenly she breaths again. Delicious air. Her and Hot Pie are shepherded forward, amongst the others. She searches frantically for Gendry and Lommy, but sees neither, she feels herself start to panic once more.

Eventually her eyes catch blue, and the relief is so sudden she nearly falls over, Gendry's there, a little battered, but alive. He smiles upon seeing her as well. But their relief is short-lived.

"We're looking for Gendry. Send him forward, or we'll start taking eyeballs." She doesn't doubt their threats. And as she looks around, she wonders who will be the first to break. She can see the wheels turning in each of their minds, is it more honorable to stay quiet or speak up? Even if no one gives him up, all eyes are on the large smith, and it's only a matter of time. Only Hot Pie's gaze is fixed on her, eyes taking in her panic for her friend.

"You want Gendry?" He starts. No! No, no no. He can't. Gendry for his part looks betrayed. "You already got 'im. He loved that helm." And he points to Lommy's dead body not far off, bull's helm clutched in his stiff dead fingers. The soldier looks satisfied and urges them all forward with threats and sword points in their backs.

She looks over at Hot Pie, truly surprised, and gives him a look of deep respect, mouthing thank you. He'd proved honorable, brave, and resourceful. She would not forget his actions that day. Gendry and her find each other and walk so their sides touch, taking small comfort in each other's presence.

If she thought walking the King's Road with The Watch was grueling, she was dead wrong. This was so much worse. And the jewel and ring sliding around in her boot did not help in the slightest. The pace was impossible, they were chained, watched, taunted, and were not given water. To make matters worse, many were injured, including Gendry, who had a nasty bump on his head, and badly bruised hands. Hot Pie seemed fine, and while her chest ached with each breath, she could manage. In terms of herself, she was more worried about relieving herself, and how she could sneak off without arousing suspicion. But Gendry's presence was comforting, and she had to be thankful for small favors. Lommy was gone, his death proving fortuitous, no matter how cold that sounded, and she missed him. Hot Pie was even closer to The Dyer, and she could only imagine his pain. He kept up though and never complained; she saw him in a whole new light.

When they did eventually stop, late into the night, she told one of the soldiers that she had to shit. He let her go off with one guard, which Gendry was not happy about, and they went behind some bushes. The guard did not pay attention to her, thinking her little and therefore no threat. She dropped trow out of sight, and relieved herself. To her horror, and morbid amusement she found she had started her period. She had to bite her lip from laughing out loud at her bad fortune. Ripping the end of her tunic, she used it as a makeshift internal sponge, but dreaded the next obstacle.

Many were asleep, having had their ration of water. Gendry and Hot Pie were waiting, and she took her portion before joining them. When no one was listening she felt free to speak. But in truth, she was at a loss as to what to say to Gendry. She turned to Hot Pie instead.

"That was very brave. I owe you, Hot Pie, truly."

"You saved my life. It was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing. And I won't forget it." She says in all seriousness, which only serves to make him uncomfortable.

"Thank you." Gendry says, and Hot Pie nods in response.

"I told you to stay hidden." Gendry scolds her.

"Shut the fuck up." She says simply, and a corner of his lip quirks up at that. They all fall asleep huddled together, stomachs growling.

After another insanely long march, they make it to their destination. She had long since bled through her pants, and the disgusting feel of it, combined with her helplessness and fear, brought her the closest to tears she'd been since she'd started the journey. She has a story ready for if the soldiers notice, but no one does. The hunger and the cramps mix together to turn her stomach into a mound of dough being perpetually kneaded. She does her best to ignore it. They arrive. She is both awed and scared shitless upon their arrival. Harrenhal, all burnt black stone, melted and twisted.

"Where are we?" Hot Pie asks.

"Harrenhall." She answers.

"What happened here?" Gendry asks.

"Dragons." She responds.

"There's no such thing as dragons." He doubts her.

"But there were. What else could melt stone?" She reasons. This place housed evil, true horrors, she could smell the death, and she had no way to prepare for it. Her weapon was gone, part of her pack dead, and the rest chained.

They're brought to a pen, an actual pen for livestock, and fenced in amongst other clearly terrified and battered souls. She can see the dead look in their eyes, most likely reflected in her own. There's no privacy, no blankets, no food, only mud. The soldiers disappear and she goes off to a fetid corner to relieve herself and change her bled-through cloth. She doesn't want to speak too soon, but this seems the new lowest point of her existence, which was saying quite a bit given her time with Joffrey. Afterwards, she checks Gendry's injuries, prodding gently at his skull, and decides it's nothing serious; he has quite a hard head.

Someone begs for food and receives a kick to the face. Later, a woman, middle aged, is dragged from the pen by two men; they can all hear her cries. Tears do fall from her eyes then, for how useless she is. If only she could stop this. It reminded her of her time with Joffrey, which wasn't fair, as what this woman was suffering was far worse. After all, she'd gone willingly to her fate; she'd suggested it. This woman was dragged kicking and screaming out, she could hear her fighting, strength, where she'd had none. Gendry wraps his arms around her, she flinches at first, but then lets herself melt into him, trying hard to block out the sounds, trying hard not to remember her own screams. The woman is brought back in when they're done with her, and she's deadly quiet. But Arya can see a twitch in her eye as she stares at nothing, rolling herself into a ball. No matter what tomorrow brings, she is scarred beyond repair. Arya thinks about all the soothing things she could say, perhaps holding her tight, promising vengeance. But she can promise nothing, and she knows from experience the woman won't want to be touched.

It's the next morning when things get even worse. She finds herself constantly surprised, she believes things to be the most miserable that they can be, and then a new angle tips the scale. The people here, they torture them for information, information they don't have. No one survives, and the means of their death is excruciating. It's only a matter of time before its her, or someone she loves.

The Mountain picks one villager, then they're placed in a chair, a rat in a bucket tied to their chest. The Tickler asks them questions- Where's the gold hidden? Where's the Brotherhood? And so on and so forth. No one knows, or at least they all claim not to. She certainly has no clue what they're talking about. Without fail, the person is eaten alive; fire forcing the rat to chew its way to freedom; both the vermin and the prisoner dead. How long until it's her? Her father doesn't visit her in this place, though that might have more to do with her inability to sleep. Instead of dreams, she recites a list. The names of those she will make suffer.

The night her period finishes is the night they choose a young girl, too young. Arya sits still, fingers clenched, sick with herself. She can imagine it's her, innocent and naïve. She doesn't believe the girl has yet become a woman, but she will have to suffer the indignity all the same. The question becomes very simple, and her hand unclenches- Can she live with herself if she does nothing? The answer is a resounding No.

"Hot Pie." She addresses him, and he gives her his full attention. "Never call him by his name. And protect this with your life." She gives him the ring and shakily gets to her feet. Gendry notices too late and tries to pull her back down, but she's already stepping forward, entire body shaking.

"Leave her be." She says, Gendry grabbing at her ankles to pull her back. "Take me instead." She orders, but her voice cracks on me. They laugh in her face. What exactly they find funny escapes her.

"We don't want boys, we ain't that desperate, we ain't faggots. When we finish with all the girls, then we'll see." She's not deterred.

"I am a girl." She proclaims, not as loud as she'd meant. They stop laughing, but the grins haven't left their faces. One with light brown hair, black eyes, no chin, and rather stocky shoulders grabs her roughly, and Gendry rushes him. She tries to tell him with her eyes to sit quietly, but he doesn't look at her. The other, whitish blonde hair and the lightest shade of brown eyes she's ever seen hits Gendry with the hilt of his sword, hitting the exact same spot where his bump was. She flinches, but the brunette one is holding her so tight she can barely move. He slides his hand beneath her shirt and feels the tightly wound bandages over her breasts.

"We've got a ripe one, boys!" He exclaims, excited. It's he and the white-haired one that take her away, she can hear struggles in the pen, but can only focus on her current predicament. A far away part of her is glad she's being taken away from the others, that her indignity will be private.

Her mind immediately starts analyzing- no help, no weapons, 2:1 odds, and possible death. She will fight through the fear until her last breath, no more being a willing victim. She struggles, making it hard for them to keep her still. They get her stripped, cutting off her binding with her little blade, barely avoiding cutting into her flesh. The one with no chin rips her pants open and gets atop her. She nearly heaves at the feel of his hands on her, vision swimming. She squirms until she has more movement and then kicks her knee up as hard as she can onto his swollen member. He curses loudly and she takes the time to turn over, crawling out from under him. The light blonde grabs her, and her fingers fruitlessly search for purchase in the dirt. She can feel his hands prying her legs apart, ragged nails digging into her flesh, but her fingers never stop their searching. Eventually, she feels a large rock beneath her fingertips, clutches it, and with a force she didn't know she possessed, she smashes it into the side of his head.

He lets go immediately at this, but she doesn't stop. She winds up, and brings it down again. She keeps hitting him, keeps going until his head is mush, until she feels the bloody pulp grind into the dirt; red and pink and gray spreading on the ground, a pool of blood forming.

But the first one, the chinless black-eyed soldier grabs her; having recovered form the severe kick to his balls. She screams a battle cry and swings wildly with the rock. He easily incapacitates her arm, but she keeps thrashing for freedom, wild with adrenaline, and whenever any part of him gets close to her face, she bites viciously at the air. She catches his lip, bites hard enough to draw blood, and at his yell of frustration, she rears back and head butts him with all her might. The impact leaves her dizzy, but he is completely disoriented. Naked she gets up shakily, and crawls back to the soldier she'd killed. She reaches for his sword, brandishing it more steadily than she knew possible.

At this she runs back towards the pen, not at all sure it will offer safety, but instinct leads her back to her pack. The man, limping painfully, stands in her path. She points the sword at him, a few of his brothers in arms stand by his side, lowering her odds considerably, now 3:1. But she doesn't back down, doesn't loosen her hold of the sword, standing naked and tall.

"Put that down and crawl back to your corner." A tall skinny blonde soldier says, motioning her back in. She looks over at him quizzically and notices his armor and insignia are more intricate, cost more. He's higher ranking than the others. He reaches out tentatively to grab the blade, and the other opens the gate. She steps in and loosens her grip on the hilt; the superior officer easily takes the blade from her as the other closes the gate behind her. The soldier she'd personally injured looks as though he wants to tear her apart with his bare hands, but the higher up holds him back. "Tywin will want to deal with her personally." He says, and while the stocky brunette looks at her with pure hate, he follows orders.

She walks past the other sheep; terrified prisoners all, staring at her in wonder, never having seen someone fight back and return unscathed. Gendry immediately places his shirt atop her shoulders and helps her to pull it down, covering all, barely. The little girl with lovely auburn hair, looking even younger than she'd thought, clings onto her sobbing. She strokes her hair and comforts her telling her it will be alright. Gendry asks her if she's hurt, not looking her in the eye. She knows what he's really asking.

"They didn't get to do much. They touched me, but I made them regret it." She answers proudly.

Hot Pie is looking at her in amazement, obviously having no idea she was a girl. He simply says.

"That was the bravest thing I've ever seen." The girl is still crying, but Arya can no longer stand her tears, afraid she'll dissolve too. She disengages the girl and passes her to Hot Pie. Gendry looks an even bigger mess than before, covered in bruises.

"Don't you ever, ever do anything that stupid again. Imagine if they… You don't know what could've happened to you, but you…" He's utterly terrified, she can see; still traumatized from his beating and watching her get dragged away, hearing her screams, watching her get returned naked.

"I knew what I was doing. Better than you." She answers simply, coldly.

"Fine, I don't know what I would have done if…" He doesn't finish, swallowing painfully.

She doesn't know how to feel or what more to say. She had been terrified too, and the remembrance of it made her skin crawl. But she'd fought this time, choosing a possible death over weakness. And she knew she'd do it again, knew what she was capable of. And when she'd had the sword in her hands, it had all come back to her, playing pretend with her brothers, knocking sticks, pretending to be knights. That was before her mother put a stop to it. Imagine if she'd learned properly. But she'd done her brothers proud all the same, and her father too, she hopes.

Still, she's made an enemy tonight, and she hadn't missed the mention of one 'Tywin' who she could only speculate to be the one and only Lannister patriarch. But just the same she scoots back against Gendry, and lets him hold her tight, tighter than he ever had before. She feels furious eyes watching her, and doesn't need to look up to know it's the soldier she'd beaten, the one she'd humiliated. She couldn't guess if she would sleep that night or not; or if she did, what her father would have to say.

A/N: No one better mess with her or her pack… Review please.