A/N: Hello lovely people! I'm back! Thank you all for being so patient. I had a wonderful time and Dave Matthews was amazing! On the way back home today, I listened to The Civil Wars CD...love them, and I got all kinds of Gendrya feels. It is a must if you are a gendrya fan to listen to that cd. It is AMAZING! Anyway, here is the next installment...Gendry's POV. Warning, I tried not to get too explicit, but it might still be a little much to read. Anyway, enjoy...
They had questioned him the rest of the night about Nymeria. Gendry had told them everything he knew. He told them that Nymeria was a direwolf, and that she belonged to Arya. Dondarrion looked uneasy that she had come into his camp, but Gendry had done everything in his power to assure the man that they were safe. When all was said and done, the men had accepted Gendry's version of things.
Every moment after Nymeria visited him, he would walk towards the end of the camp, watching...waiting. Though he hadn't seen her again since that night, he knew she was still out there. He had missed Arya so much that seeing the direwolf had caused him to dip further into his depression. When the nights would descend, he would pace his tent and wonder why he had let her go in the first place. Without her with him, he felt lost. She had given him a purpose, even without trying. Now that that purpose was no longer there, he felt as if he were going out of his mind. Several times, he had planned a way to escape the Brotherhood and go in search for her, but each time Dondarrion's words would hit him. She was engaged, and if he wanted to have even the slightest of chances, he had to make something of himself. He could only pray to the gods that he would have enough time to do just that.
So when the day came that a crushing howl came from the forest, Gendry felt it vibrate from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. He lowered his hammer, walking slowly out of the forge. A group of men had already gathered, their eyes searching the forest behind the large trees. Out in the open, the howling became deafening. Gendry knew at once that it was Nymeria. Without thought, he sprinted past the men, all of whom were calling his name and telling him to stop, and through the thick forest.
The howling continued, growing and growing, until Gendry could hear nothing else. A feeling of such dread, of such loss, crashed down upon him. It almost caused him to stumble, but he kept upright and continued his sprinting. She was close, so close, yet he could not see her. The sound inside her howls spoke of such pain, of such sadness, he just knew he would find her dead when he actually did find her.
"Nymeria!" he screamed.
Her howling did not stop, but grew in volume. "I'm coming!" he whispered out of breath.
Finally, he saw a movement of fur to his left and he stopped, searching. There she was, her head raised to the sky as her mouth came open for another piercing scream. He watched her, wide-eyed, his chest puffing out breaths fast. If she knew he was there she never let him know. Gendry searched her, trying to see if she were hurt and where, but he saw no signs of a wound.
"Nymeria," he called to her.
The direwolf raised her head again, the howl piercing the silence around them. This one was long, as if never coming to an end. Gendry felt it vibrate through him again, almost sending him to his knees in the crushing anguish he could hear within it. Instead of letting it take him under, he forced his feet to move towards Nymeria. He did not fear her attacking him.
The moment he reached her, his hands came out slowly to touch her upturned face. As soon as his palm made contact, the direwolf lowered her head to look at him. The look in her eyes was something Gendry would never forget for as long as he lived. Such loss, such sadness, shown through her eyes towards him. He could not explain it, but even in his own eyes he could feel the tears form.
Nymeria raised her head again as another howl loosened from her mouth. Being this close to it caused Gendry to slam his eyes shut, wanting nothing more than for the direwolf to tell him what was happening. He wanted nothing more than for the direwolf to tell him why she was screaming of pain.
Suddenly, the direwolf fell to the ground, as if she were spent. Nymeria laid her head on her palm, her eyes closing. Gendry stood there for a moment, watching and wondering what to do next. She began to whine, and that was all Gendry needed to hear. He knelt to his knees, scooting closer towards her. As softly as he could, he grabbed her head and placed her in his lap. Her whining grew, until it sounded like a human cry. He petted her head, shushing her softly, but nothing helped. For the rest of the night, he cradled the direwolf's head into his lap as she cried for reasons he did not know.
The next morning he awoke to find himself alone. Nymeria was nowhere to be found. He stood from the cold, hard forest floor and wiped the leaves from his pants. Looking around, he searched for the direwolf, but she was gone. He stood there in the silence for a few moments, wishing she would come to him. When he realized that she wasn't coming back, he turned and walked towards the Brotherhood's camp.
The moment he stepped out of the forest, he heard the talk immediately. The men were looking towards the sky. Gendry looked up, not seeing anything out of the ordinary, until his eyes landed on the patch of red. Against the clear, blue sky, the red burned like wildfire.
"That's not a good sign," he heard one of the men say.
"It's only the sun," Gendry mumbled.
He didn't intend for the men to hear him, but they turned their attention to him. "Son, that's more than the sun," one of the men said. "Blood has been spilled."
Gendry tried to ignore the nagging feeling building in his stomach. First, Nymeria and now the men thinking blood had been spilled. He shook his head, walking past the men. He headed towards his tent for a nap. The sleep he received in the woods had only made him more tired. If it was only that simple, though. He tossed and turned, hearing Nymeria's howl, and seeing the blood-red streak in the sky. To make matters worse, Arya's face danced behind his closed eyelids. There would be no sleep for him that day, or the day after.
By the time the third day rolled around, Gendry was dead on his feet. The nagging feeling within him continued to grow, until it affected his work. His thumb was throbbing after he had missed the anvil and struck it instead. Luckily, he had not put his full power into the hit, otherwise he would have broken it for sure. Hot Pie had come by and visited him, but he had been in no mood for visitors. None too nicely, he had asked the boy to leave. A little hurt, Hot Pie had walked away shaking his head.
He was sitting in his tent, his head hanging low and wishing for sleep, when he heard the commotion start outside. Gendry raised his head and listened, hearing voices rising. He stood and walked out to see what was taking place.
"That cannot be!" someone yelled.
"They would not dare have done what you accuse them of!" another yelled.
Gendry was in the back of a large crowd that had started to gather. He looked up and over the men's heads, but could not see a thing.
"I was there! I saw!" someone yelled.
"You're lying!"
Gendry pushed his way through, slowly. The men did not seem to want to move, but he forced his way through the large crowd.
"Th—they killed him! The King of the North...they killed him!"
The moment the words floated towards Gendry, he froze. He could not move, could not think of anything but what the man had just yelled. The nagging feeling inside his stomach grew until he felt as if he would vomit. The king of the north, Arya's brother...dead, he thought.
His feet moved without his approval. They moved him towards the man, who by the looks of him wasn't in the best shape. He was bleeding, and holding his right arm as if it were broken. Gendry did not care about any of that as he pushed the men out of his way. He came at the man, grabbing the front of his shirt before any of the brotherhood could stop him. The man stared at him, his eyes wide in fear.
"What did you say?" Gendry said, shaking the man.
"Gendry, release him," Dondarrion demanded.
Gendry ignored him, shaking the man again. "What did you say!" he screamed.
"T—they killed the King of the North...in cold blood, just k—killed him!" the man cried.
It felt as if the man had taken a cold dagger to Gendry's stomach. The bile rose in his throat, but he forced it down. Sweat began to break out on his forehead as he continued to shake the man.
Gendry could get only one word through his clenched jaw. "Arya," he breathed.
The man didn't answer him, as if he didn't understand that that was a question. "What about Arya?" Gendry said, his voice strained.
The man shook his head, his eyes still wide. "Th—they're all dead. I barely made it out myself," he whispered. Gendry stared at the man, not wanting to believe him.
"Oh gods no," he heard one of the brotherhood say low.
Gendry felt hands grab him as Dondarrion and two other men pulled him away from the injured man. They held him tight as horrible images of death and blood filled Gendry's head. A horror, such as he had never seen before, played in his mind like a broken record, and it all lead to him standing over the body of Arya.
"No!" he said harshly, fighting against the hands that held him.
"I need you to remain calm right now, until we can figure out what has happened here," Dondarrion whispered in his ear.
It did nothing to calm the raging in his mind, did nothing to calm the horrible feeling that filled his body. "We delivered a girl to the Twins days ago. Her name is Arya, King Robb's sister, have you any knowledge of her fate?" Dondarrion asked the injured man.
The man looked up at him, tears streaming down his dirty face. "I saw her but for a moment. If you delivered her there before that horrible day, she is lost to you," the man answered.
It was enough to destroy Gendry in one single moment. He tore his arms away from the men holding him with a strength none of them were prepared for, not even Dondarrion. As soon as he was free, he ran past the injured man, ignoring the calls for him to stop. Grabbing the first horse he could find, he climbed up and began to ride. He did not care that he had no supplies, did not care that it was mid-day already. He did not care that it was a two day journey. All he cared about was getting to the Twins and getting to Arya, because his mind refused to believe that she was gone. He refused to believe in anything other than he would arrive there and take her away with him. He swore to himself, swore to her that when he found her he would not let her go.
"Not ever again!" he breathed as tears filled his eyes again.
He rode fast and hard, not daring to stop. Gendry did not even realize when he had company. Dondarrion and the Brotherhood had caught up with him, but he would not, refused, to stop for them. They could call his name all they wanted. They could try to ride him down, but he would not yield, not until Arya was in his arms again.
But stop he did. The horse gave him no choice as it whined against the strain of riding without rest and water. It slowed on its own, even as Gendry whipped it to ride on. The horse tried to buck him, but he held on. It stopped, refusing to move. Gendry climbed down, pushing the massive beast out of his way and began walking on foot.
"Gendry! You must stop this, now!" Dondarrion yelled at him.
Gendry ignored the man, continuing to walk. This way would take much longer, but he dared not stop. He heard Dondarrion ride up behind him, until the man stood in his path. Gendry looked up at him with angered eyes only to see anger staring back at him.
"Use your head, son! Stop allowing your emotions to make your decisions. You cannot simply walk up to the gates of the Twins and demand them to release Arya...if she is still alive," Dondarrion said, his words measured.
"Out. Of. My. Way," Gendry ground out.
"Do not make me restrain you, Gendry. I am still the leader here, and we will do this my way! Allow your horse to drink and rest. As soon as we all have had a break, we will continue together," Dondarrion said, not moving an inch.
"And if they kill her while we are resting?" Gendry spat. "I'll rest when she's with me."
He walked around Dondarrion. The man never stopped him. On his own two feet, his horse forgotten, Gendry began walking the rest of the way to the Twins. In his mind, he heard Nymeria's howling. In his eyes, he could see the red streak in the sky. In his heart, he knew the two were connected, and he knew Arya was connected to it all. He knew it with every fiber of his being, but his heart refused to believe it. She was fine, safe, and she would be waiting for him when he got there. If it came down to it, Gendry would fight his way through every guard he had to to reach her.
Hours into his walk, he heard the Brotherhood riding behind him. He looked to his left, seeing movement. Dondarrion rode beside him leading a riderless horse...his horse. He stopped long enough to grab the reigns and pull himself atop the horse. As soon as his feet were planted, he kicked the horse into action. Storming down the darkened path, he left the other men in his dust.
On the second day, as the sun rose in the horizon, the Twins came in to view. Gendry watched the towers floating in his vision. In the sky above, the red streak he had seen days ago had grown until it seemed the whole sky was filled with what looked like red flames. His heart jerked into his throat, almost choking him in grief. Dondarrion and the others caught up with him, matching his gallops with their own.
When they made it to the gates of the Twins, Gendry was off his horse before he could think. Before he could take a step onto Frey land, he was grabbed from behind. The men held him still as he fought to break free. As Dondarrion passed him, he looked at the man with loathing in his eyes. He would kill him for stopping him from getting to Arya. He would kill him and Dondarrion wouldn't be able to come back from it.
"You give me no choice, Gendry," the man said softly.
He had no choice but to watch Dondarrion turn his back on him and walked towards the gates of the Twins. The guards were waiting, watching with weary eyes as the walking dead-man reached them. He stopped with a wide berth between them.
"What do you want?" one of the guards said.
"We only wish to see what has transpired here. Lord Frey obviously wanted it known if he allowed even one person to go free. Allow us to pass to witness with our own eyes," Dondarrion answered.
The guards exchanged looks. Finally, one of them nodded his head, stopping Dondarrion just before he walked through. "You leave them be. Do not disturb anything that you see, is that understood? What you see here is a sign that treachery will not be condoned, not by the lord of this land."
Dondarrion turned to his men, nodding his head for them to follow. His eyes landed on Gendry, lingering there for a moment. "Bring the boy to me," he said.
Gendry was forced forward, stepping in line with Dondarrion. Still restrained, they walked him through the gates of the Twins, and what awaited them caused his mind to explode. The grounds below the first tower were soaked in dried blood. Bloated bodies lay scattered as far as the eye could see. They had been out there for days, some of them already crows food. All around him, Gendry heard gasps and cries of shock.
"Seven hells," Dondarrion whispered beside him.
Gendry did not want to look, so afraid he would see the half-eaten corpse of Arya. He fought against the anguish trying to overtake him. They were dead, every last one of them.
"Where is King Robb's body?" Dondarrion asked.
One of the guards pointed to a mound of bodies before them. Gendry followed his finger, until he looked upon a sight that no man, good or evil, should have ever been forced to see. Built as high as a small mountain lay the bodies of hundreds of men. None of them were recognizable, as they had all been burned. Risen above them, nailed to a stake, was a grotesque sight. Gendry raised his eyes, not daring to believe what he saw. What hung above the mound of burned bodies was a body of a man, but the head was that of a direwolf.
"Behold, the King of the North," one of the guards said laughing.
His arms were outstretched, as if to welcome all that entered the gates. The direwolf's head had been sewed to his body where his human head should have been. Gendry choked on the bile that had made it to his mouth, looking away and taking deep breaths.
"How could you have defiled him?" someone asked angrily.
The guards continued to laugh, not paying any mind to the anger beginning to rise within the Brotherhood. "You have came here to look, and now you have seen. Your welcome is short lived, and it is best you leave...now! Our courtesy is running thin," the guard said.
Gendry felt the men holding him begin to turn him. No, he could not leave without Arya. She was in there somewhere, and he had to get to her. He began to fight against their hold, screaming for them to release him, when something caught the light of the sun. He froze immediately, whispering for them to wait one second.
"Please," he begged, not taking his eyes away from the thing that shown brightly.
Time stood still. The air around him became thick, almost to the point that he could not breath. His eyes saw, but his mind refused to believe. Gendry jerked his arms free, and surprisingly, they let him go. He stumbled forward, his legs refusing to work properly, yet he never looked away at the object that held his attention. He staggered forward, even as the guards demanded for him to stop. Gendry would not have stopped, even if they tried to physically restrain him.
Tears ran down his wide-eyes. His heart beat in his throat, causing him to choke on the sob threatening to come out. He came to the mound of burned bodies, looking upon the body that sat just below King Robb's defiled body. Without thought, or sanity, he began climbing to the top. His hands grabbed body parts, too charred to recognize. His feet stepped on humans too horrible to look upon. But none of that mattered as his eyes stared at the one thing that broke everything within him. Even the shouting from the guards could not cut into his mind.
Gendry reached a shaking hand slowly towards a body about the size of Arya. It, like all the others, was burned beyond recognition, yet it held one thing the other bodies did not. He turned to the other men.
"Help me!" he screamed at them.
No one moved for what seemed like an eternity. Gendry did not wait, but grabbed the charred body and drug it towards him. The act alone almost caused him to break mentally. The smell had him turning his head and gagging. He had known what the smell of burning flesh was like, but it filled his nose and seeped into his pores tenfold.
Below him, some of the Brotherhood had stepped up to help him. As gently as he could, he lowered the charred body down to them. They reached out, hesitantly, but reached out they did. They laid the body on the ground as Gendry slid his way back down the mound of bodies. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he fell to his knees.
The men stepped back as Gendry crawled the rest of the way towards the body. His fingers slowly reached out and touched the blackened wrist. There, lying as perfectly as the day he hd made it, was Arya's bracelet. When his fingers touched the cool surface, Gendry slammed his eyes closed. His mouth came open, letting out the sob and scream he so desperately tried to keep in.
He did not care who heard him, did not care the eyes that were watching him in his unbearable grief. Arya lay before him, burned beyond recognition, but the bracelet was untouched. He grabbed the body, bringing it to his chest and screaming her name.
"No!" he screamed. "Gods no! Not her!"
He rocked her body back and forth, his screams and cries matching those of Nymeria. Everything poured out of him. His love for her. His unimaginable pain. His failure to protect her. Everything he could possibly feel fell from his mouth in the forms of his screams. She was unrecognizable, yet in his mind he could see her beautiful face. He could see her eyes staring up at him in accusation. He could see her soft lips, words of his betrayal floating from them.
"ARYA!" he screamed.
He looked down at where her face should have been, only to see a blackened hole. His tears fell upon her as he continued to scream her name.
"You're not dead," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry!"
He continued rocking her body back and forth, even as Dondarrion and the others stepped forward to drag him away. There was no strength left in him to fight, so as they drug him away, he had no choice but to go with them. They pried the body out of his hands. The moment he let her go, he felt as if they had taken a part of himself away. The men carried him more than he walked.
They were escorted out of the gates of the Twins. The men sat Gendry on the ground as he looked ahead, but saw nothing. Every moment he had spent with Arya, every beautiful and scary moment, floated through his mind as he turned to look where she lay. She had been the first person to ever trust him without question. He had never known such loyalty and the first moment he got the chance he had stepped on that loyalty. He had caused her death, as if he were the one that set the fire to her beautiful skin. He had nothing now, nothing but a growing fury. He had nothing but a growing vengeance he had never felt before. The road he feared watching Arya go down was now the road he found himself on, and it burned within him like wildfire. There was no quenching it. There was no putting it out. The longer he sat staring at her body, the wider it grew, until he felt the flames licking every part of him. Someone had to pay. Someone had to feel the pure anguish that he was feeling at that moment.
The men got him to his feet, turning him away from evil that lay on Frey land. They walked in silence, no one knowing quite what to say. Gendry walked like a man already dead. He did not feel his foot take one step in front of the other, and if not for the men on both sides of him, he would have fallen to the ground.
She's gone. She's gone, he said over and over, until he knew no other words to say.
The Brotherhood stopped close to a river, for Gendry could hear the water running softly. They left him there as they went and drank of the cool water. When one of the men brought him some to drink, he turned his head, not wanting anything that would bring him satisfaction. I caused her death. It is me that is the murderer, he thought.
"We should go back and kill them all!" one of the men yelled.
"They deserve nothing better," another said.
"We will do no such thing...not yet anyway," Dondarrion demanded.
"We call for vengeance in the name of the King of the North!" screamed someone.
"And vengeance is what you will receive."
Everyone turned to the man that had spoken, even Gendry. He had seldom heard the man speak, so when he would speak people would listen. Thoros of Myr was slowly walking towards Gendry. His eyes stared into the boy, as if staring into his soul. Gendry looked up at the man, his face red and swollen from his grief.
"Vengeance will be poured throughout this land, stretching and growing like the wildfires I have seen in my days. It will not stop, will not be quenched, until there is nothing left in its sights. Vengeance will be a sweet name to call what is to come. I have seen it, and the gods help all who stand in its way. The wildfire will devour all, until its vengeance is satisfied, which it will never be satisfied."
He stood in front of Gendry, his eyes continuing to stare, and Gendry knew the man was looking inside him. He saw into his soul, saw the wildfire that had grown and continued to grow. He knew Thoros was speaking of him. Gendry knew the moment he held Arya's charred body in his arms that he would never stop until everyone who had a hand in her death was dead themselves. A blacksmith he was not, but a man afire with vengeance. They. Would. Pay.
Thoros reached towards Gendry's hand, taking it in his own. With his other hand, he laid something cool in his palm. Gendry looked down, seeing Arya's bracelet sitting there. Yes, he would kill them all and then, he would take care of the true betrayer. He would take his vengeance out upon himself.
A/N: My poor baby Gendry! He has no idea does he! Okay people, you know what to do...review, review, review! I have a path I'm fixing to take Gendry down, one that strays BIG TIME from the books, but that's the point of an AU isn't it? Anyway, I hope you will enjoy what is to come, because I can't wait to write it. Thanks you guys!