DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN!
He-ey dudes, so I know, I know- I'm late again! I DO have a good excuse though... I have been having another set of mocks; as such, I have genuinely not had the time- I get home at six, do the horses, homework, revision, have a bath and go to bed! I've barely even had time to switch my laptop on.
Anyway, seeing as its been a while, a quick recap; Arya and Gendry have left Greywater Watch and are headed towards the Riverrun. Arya reconnects a little with the Brotherhood men, and Gendry wakes to Arya having a pretty scary nightmare! Poor Arya :((
Anyhoo, as usual, hope you all enjoy this update, any queries let me know, and reviews are always super appreciated! So I'll leave you to it! Over and Out xox
Arya stared impassively at the rushing waters of the Trident in the valley before them. On the other side, in the distance, she could see the black towers that marked the place where her brother and mother had been murdered. No flags flew there in the wind, nor was there any bustle of tiny distant figures going about their business. It was utterly still. A graveyard.
Arya didn't turn around or acknowledge him as Gendry pulled up beside her on the brow of the hill. She kept her face a blank slate, as calm and still as the place she stared at. She swallowed down the regrets and bitterness, and it sunk to her stomach as a heavy weight. The last time she had been there she had not been Arya Stark, but a Faceless assassin pretending to be a serving girl. It had only been when Walder Freys lifes blood was warming her hand that she allowed Arya Stark to feel satisfaction. Not that Gendry needed know that.
"How are you?" He asked her from her side, his voice low and hesitant. Arya noticed his Adams Apple bob in his throat through the corner of her eye. He knew what this place was to her.
Arya didn't move a muscle as she replied in a flat voice. "It should have been destroyed. It should have been pulled down and burnt long ago." For half an instant Arya wanted to rush down there and do it herself somehow. How could Winterfell have been destroyed in the war, yet this place left standing? This place that stood as testament and monument to the death of her family?
Gendry did not reply for a moment. "Do you want to go down there?"
Arya remained still as a stone, though Astrid fidgeted impatiently beneath her. For a second the want was intense... and then Arya grit her teeth. No. She wouldn't go there. Not there. She would let her ghosts rest in peace. What was the point in disturbing them? And immediately, Arya knew that she had to somehow get away from that place. She didn't care where to or for how long, bust she could not stand to be there for any longer.
She turned Astrid's head around and urged her on into gallop, leaving Gendry staring sadly after her. She galloped past the spot where the company had begun to make camp, and further still, focusing on how the mares muscles bunched and tightened as she swallowed up the ground.
She did not stop until she reached a small woods, where she vaulted out of the saddle, tied the puffing horse to a tree, and strode through the trees. The ground followed a firm uphill slope, and she found herself using her hands to pull herself to balance, digging her fingers into the compact earth. Arya liked that feeling; the clay and grit crumbling over her skin, sticking under her finger nails and in the lines of her hands.
Upon reaching the top of the slope Arya stopped and turned about, sinking to a one kneeled crouch as she surveyed the view. She could see the camp, and beyond that the tops of the towers that had been the last place her family ever set foot, and further than that the rolling hills of the Riverlands.
Was it strange, she thought, that looking at the place made her feel nothing? Just an emptiness in a place that was once filled with rage? Arya wondered which was worse. The sky, earlier a clear blue, that reminded her of her sisters eyes, was now darkening, with a thick grey cloud lit up by yellowing sunlight. The fires in camp were beginning to be lit, and Arya watched as ten and then twenty and then forty and more were lit, glowing orange as the dusk set low on the ground, sending rivulets of smoke up in pillars, growing lighter as they drifted towards the waking stars.
Arya didn't move as she heard him climbing the slope, instead placing her palm flat to the earth and imagining she could feel the ground shudder in time to his footsteps. She heard him let out a long and low breath as he walked up to her from behind, to the brow she sat at, her knees pulled up and ankles crossed.
When he said nothing Arya chewed her lip. "I suppose you're going to tell me off for going off alone," she said flatly. He seemed to hesitate before he sat down heavily beside her, one leg stretched out long and the other pulled up.
"Not today," he said quietly, taking her hand in his large one and squeezing it. Normally Arya would have squeezed back and then found a reason to move away... but this time she let him, hesitantly wrapping her own fingers around his. If he was surprised by her actions Gendry didn't show it. From the brow they watched as the sun sank lower still, sitting in silence as even the birds began to take roost.
"Would you be angry if you woke and I was gone?" Arya asked, wondering on his answer.
Gendry turned to look at her. "Am I going to?" He asked with one brow raised.
Arya paused for a few seconds. "No," she admitted quietly.
Gendry turned back to look at the company below them. "Perhaps at first. Then I would just be afraid."
Arya tugged her lower lip with her teeth. "Afraid?" She asked. "That I was hurt?"
"Yes," he answered, "but more because I would worry that I would never get you back." He squeezed her hand and shot a small smile at her. "But don't think I wouldn't be furious again. So, am I going to have to get ready to send out a search party for you in the morning?"
Arya huffed a laugh and shook her head. "Not today, no."
Gendry quirked a thick brow at her. "Not today? Does that mean you still will?"
Arya sighed, and stretched her legs out beside his, feeling a tick in her temple as her feet stopped a foot short of his. "Gendry," she sighed, "You know that I don't mean to be your wife." She saw a flash of something on his face and winced. "That doesn't mean that I'm not your friend."
Gendry lifted the corner of his mouth slightly. "What if I don't want to be just friends?"
Arya had to refrain from snapping. Why did he have to do this here, now? "You know that I don't want more."
Gendry turned his face to hers again, bathed in shadows on one side and a soft orange from the sunset on the other. "And you know that I do," he said firmly. "I've been clear about that from the beginning. It's all or nothing with me."
Arya swallowed thickly. "Then it will have to be nothing," she said, refusing to acknowledge the part of her that cried out for more. She moved to stand up, but he pulled her back down, shaking his head.
"No," he said in a low voice, "we made a wager, remember? You gave me a year. You made a promise." He stared down at her, and Arya tugged at her lip as she remembered the deal they had made.
"I remember," she agreed slowly, "but what is the point? Of hanging on for a year for something that can never happen?" Why did he have to drag this out? It would only cause unnecessary pain for all involved.
"Why can it never happen?" He persisted, squeezing her hand and moving it to his chest. "Because I don't believe that you feel nothing for me."
Arya stared at her hand on his chest. "You know why nothing can happen," she said, ignoring his statement.
"What do you feel, Arya?" He asked. "Right now?"
Arya's eyes flickered up to his intense gaze and back down to her hand, still clutched in his own much larger one. She realised that she hadn't yet tried to pull it away, but couldn't bring herself to do it now. "I..." She stopped and hesitated. "You. I feel you." She answered reluctantly.
He tightened his grip on her wrist slightly, so that her fingers unfurled underneath his. "That's right," he said firmly. "Flesh and blood. You can't deny that it is what you need."
"I don't-" she protested, as her brain kicked into gear and she curled her fingers back into her palm as she stood up.
"That's what you keep saying," he cut across, standing up with her and not letting go of her hand on his chest. "But are you happy?"
The question startled Arya, and she froze. Happy? Arya wasn't sure. Happiness was not a key thing in her life. Survival was. There were fleeting moments when she felt happy... but few and far between, and they never lasted for long before the emptiness took hold again. Arya wondered when she had kicked out happiness for survival.
"I'm fine," Arya settled for, slightly shaken by his question.
Gendry shook his head. "You know that doesn't answer my question, and Arya, I can make you happy," he said, stepping closer to her, staring imploringly at her.
Arya felt a shiver tremble down her spine and stepped away, bringing up her other hand to his chest to stop him from coming closer, but instead he took it in his other hand and pressed them close to his skin. "No," she whispered, "you can't-"
"Flesh and blood, Arya," he repeated. "You're not alone anymore." Arya sucked in a shaky breath. Why was he saying this, why now, why here? It wasn't fair.
"I . Can't," Arya said firmly through clenched teeth. "Why can't you understand that?" she demanded. "I keep telling you, again and again, but you keep asking again and again. Why can't you just let things be?"
Gendry closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. He licked his lips before he replied. "You're right," he finally said, "I'm sorry." Arya felt her eyes grow wide at his admission; Gendry was as stubborn as she was- she had never known him to apologise first. "I shouldn't keep pushing you. I didn't mean to come up here to say any of this, I only meant to make sure you weren't alone here." Arya licked her own lips at his apology.
"I'm sorry I can't give you what you want, Gendry," she said, curling her fingers into her palm again. She saw a flash of something on his face again, and he clenched his jaw tightly.
"We don't have to go back down with the others," he said, pulling away and clearing his throat. "We can stay up here tonight if you like?"
Arya breathed in relief and felt her shoulders relax for it, that he wasn't going to force her back to camp. "I left Astrid down there though," she said, not wanting to leave her alone.
"It's fine, I had Jayce untack them,"Gendry said, walking into the trees to gather wood. Arya made to join him. "He'll stay with them tonight." The wood was mostly damp, though Arya wasn't surprised; the further they travelled south the wetter it became, the air feeling heavy upon her skin with moistness. That was something she missed already; how fresh and clean it was in the North. And they hadn't even left the Neck yet. She dreaded to think how it would be when they got... well, wherever she did end up.
It did not take them long to get a fire going; it wasn't as if neither weren't practiced in it. Thankfully it was a warm night, as neither had brought furs, though neither made a move to go to sleep just yet. Arya had to admit to herself, it was nice to just sit side by side next to the fire, watching the smoke rise, and the charcoal burn, in silence save for the cracking and hissing of the flames.
"What was it like in the North?" Gendry suddenly asked, poking the fire with a stick.
Arya quirked an eyebrow at him. "I thought you went with Jon?"
Gendry nodded, sitting back. "Yes, but what was it like to live there?"
Arya hummed and considered it for moment. "It was... cold," she decided. Gendry rolled his eyes at his answer and was about to retort but Arya held up a hand. "Not cold cold, but cold as in... empty. When I first went there there was nothing apart from the trees, tall and thin and black, stretching up into the sky. Nothing else. And when you were out of the trees it was even more empty. Just rocks and snow and ice. I liked it, in a way, but you'd be a fool to ever consider it a home." Arya smiled slightly as she remembered it.
"I camped in caves and overhangs, slept in trees. But the further I went, the more sinister it felt. Eventually there was nothing there that lived. No free folk, no animals. There were no villages or settlements, not even any trees. Nothing but ice." Arya stopped smiling, and bowed her head. "There was no wood for fires, and nothing to hunt for food. Then one evening, I saw movement. I assumed it was wildlings, and I made my way there, hoping for some kind of shelter... but it wasn't." Despite the fire, Arya felt ice creep into her bones at the memory, and her voice hardened. "As I went closer it grew colder. It was too late when I realised what I was walking towards."
She heard Gendry suck in violently. "You saw a white walker."
Arya hummed. "White walkers, the living dead, the Others. Whatever you want to call them. One walker, and a group of the dead. It was too late to run and there was nowhere to hide. I did all I could; I grabbed my knife, and I threw it into its chest. I thought it would never work, but it did. It melted the walker, and as it did the rest collapsed as well." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I didn't know what it was at the time, it was just a rough shard of rock really, one end wrapped with leather. I'd found it in an abandoned village. It was crude, but it was sharp. I only took it as a spare, but it saved my life." When she had finally staggered over to where the walker had died, the knife had been lying on the floor, which was scorched with black ice. She had reached to pick it up... and it had been freezing cold to touch, and she had pulled her hand away the second it burned her fingers.
Gendry blinked in the glow of the fire, and shook his head. "To think, if you hadn't picked it up by chance... Do you still have it?" He asked, searching her as if it might be on her belt..
Arya quirked the corner of her lips. "Not with me," she said. "It's at Winterfell." The thought still made her bitter.
"Why didn't you bring it?" He asked, incredulous.
Arya gave him a look. "I didn't really have a chance did I? The second Jon got me I was locked in guest chambers by his solar. I never had a chance to pack anything." Arya hated not having her things. Sure, she had Needle and Dark Sister... but Arya was used to carrying everything she owned, comprising of weapons mostly. Arrowheads in her socks, knives in her belt, shards in her cloak, spikes in her boots, swords at her belt, an axe at her back if she had one... compared to that, only two seemed practically useless. Then, of course, there were much more important things that she never had a chance to pack.
If she didn't know they were safe where they were, Arya would have attempted to escape and go back for them already. Her faces could not be found by anyone. If Jon found out, or Sansa, even Gendry... it would not bode well. As it was they were tucked away in a concealed niche in her wall, by the head board of her bed. With them was the Dragonglass knife, and an assortment of other... things. Things she had picked up in her travels...
Gendry bit his teeth together, and smiled ruefully. "Ah. That. That... was ill done. I meant to ask, by the way... did you deliberately leave the stag there?"
Arya blinked. "What? No. I'd been dragging it across the yard when I heard two serving girls talking and stopped to listen. I thought they were talking about Jon." Arya smirked and let out a bark of laughter as she remembered.
"What?" Gendry asked suspiciously.
Arya stifled a laugh. "When I first heard them talking I thought they were talking about Jon, and I wanted to hear so I could embarrass him later. They were talking about his "thick, dark hair," and his "beautiful, deep blue eyes.""
"But Jon doesn't have blue eyes," Gendry said, screwing his face up. Arya rolled her eyes.
"No," she concurred, "but there was another Lord in the castle that night, and they were fantasizing about your impressive... castle. About how large and firm and strong it is." She stifled another laugh.
Gendry only looked more confused. "They'd been to Storms End?"
Arya shook her head and gave him a pointed look, chuckling when she saw it click on his face, and bursting out laughing when he blushed.
Gendry cleared his throat. "What about Braavos?" He asked, changing the subject. Arya snorted at his embarrassment, to cover up her nerves as he mentioned the place. "You mentioned that you were there before."
Arya nodded and thought for a moment. "If the Land of Always Winter was empty, then Braavos was bursting with life. It was made of a hundred islands, all of them linked closely together by bridges, stone and wood. The weather changed mostly between fog, rain and freezing rain... but on some days it was fresh and crisp and bright. There was never a moment of silence during the day; the docks were full of shouting of traders and merchants. Everywhere in the lower towns were cramped full of low houses and wooden markets, and the upper towns were open and aristocratic. When it was quiet at night, you could hear the water, and the sounds of a thousand boats all bumping gently to their posts." Arya had liked it... before everything became sinister.
"How did you survive there alone?" Gendry asked, and Arya smiled. She had known he would ask, so had talked for time to think up a story, as close to the truth as she could without giving too much away.
"I called myself Cat of the Canals," she said, smiling softly at the fire. "I begged enough money to buy a bucket of oysters. I sold them, and made enough to buy two more. It took a while, but I finally saved enough to buy myself an oyster cart. Every morning, I would make my way down to the canals; I would pass the fishmongers, and the bakers. I would usually see Lara, my first customer of the day, on her way home." Arya remembered the last time she had surmised the story; Jaqen H'ghar was a good listener, but Gendry was an even better audience, and he seemed to listen to her every word.
"Then, I would turn left, onto Ragman Lane, where I did most of my trade. There were a lot of brothels in that area, and oysters, clams and cockles were popular for... keeping a man up to it," she smirked. Of course, it had meant her customers were the cruder type, and most days Cat was forced to suffer comments.
Gendry smiled at her story. "That was clever," he admitted. "But where did you stay?"
Arya shrugged. "It wasn't too cold in Braavos, so for a while I was fine on the streets. But eventually, as it grew colder, I was forced to find another way to live. Eventually I got an apprenticeship with a man called Izambaro, as a mummer." She smiled at the memory; she had been quite a good actress, and the people had liked her. Compared to the House of Black and White, the mummers were nothing.
"You were an actress?" Gendry asked, his eyebrows lifted in surprise.
Arya nodded, amused at his surprise. "It kept me paid and sheltered and fed; I also didn't have to smell of oyster all the time." It had been a relief; Arya still wrinkled her nose at the smell of them. "I played several smaller parts, until eventually I was given a role as a maid, who was raped by Tyrion Lannister in a play called The Bloody Hand." Of course, Tyrion had never raped anyone; from what she had later found out, the maid she had played had been a lying whore, saving her own skin.
Unexpectedly, Gendry let out a bark of laughter, causing Arya to look up in surprise. "You really are unbelievable, you know?" He chuckled. "Anyone else would have either starved or become a whore. What was it like?"
Arya chewed her lip. "It was strange. Like, I didn't have to be Arya Stark with a bounty on her head. I could be a girl called Cat that became an actress. For a while I was naive enough to think it would last." She said bitterly as she lay back, and placed her hands under her head.
"Why didn't it?" Gendry asked, stretching out beside her.
Arya shot him a quick smile. "I guess I wasn't as good an actress as I thought. Someone wanted me dead, and I was forced to flee." It was sort of true... she wasn't lying.
"Who wanted you dead?" He asked, turning his face to hers. Arya felt a tick of irritation; what was with all of the questions? Gendry had always been so silent and brooding when they were younger- she still often saw that in him now, but she didn't understand why he insisted on so many bloody questions.
Arya sighed out through her nose. "I don't know," she said, thinking quickly. "I assume it was Cersei."
"She sent Goldcloaks after you in Braavos?" He asked, twitching his nose.
Arya shook her head. "At first I didn't know. I still don't know how long they were following me for, it could have been weeks, but eventually I noticed the little things; always a face disappearing around a corner, or someone too eager to offer me a drink, always footsteps following me through the dark and stopping when I turned round..." Arya felt sick as she remembered it. In reality it hadn't been exactly like that, but she still remembered the fear as she searched every face in the crowd, still knowing that it would do her no help, for how can you defend yourself from an enemy that you can't see? "I assume you've heard of the Faceless Guild?"
Gendry blanched. "Cersei hired them to kill you?" He asked, turning onto his side to better look at her.
Arya hummed in confirmation. "At least, I assume so. There were a fair few that wanted me dead. When I realised just who was following me... things became different. I never knew if the friendly girl that passed me in the streets was plotting my death, or if the boy who brought us wine had put poison in it. I didn't know who I could trust and who I couldn't. Then... I really fucked up. You remember Raff the Sweetling?" She asked, turning her head and placing her hands on her chest.
Gendry winced. "Of course I do, why?"
Arya smiled sadly. "Because I killed him." She enjoyed the look of surprise on his face before she carried on. "It wasn't that hard, really. He saw one of the plays I was in, and I recognised him instantly. I won't bother saying too much, but I seduced him, and then killed him. Thing is, I was seen, and Izambaro fired me. Said he wouldn't tell anyone, but he refused to keep me. After that I had nowhere safe to go." Not that that was exactly how it happened, but it was enough for Gendry.
"And they found you?" He concluded, searching her face darkly.
Arya quirked her mouth. "In a sorts. I used all of my coin to book passage on a ship, but an hour before it left one of the assassins caught up with me. It wasn't pretty, but I survived." She hoped Gendry wouldn't ask any more, but she knew that he would never let it lie.
"What did they do?" He asked darkly, moving to prop himself up on one elbow.
Arya swallowed. He would find out at some point, so why lie? "Stabbed me, low in the stomach. Repeatedly. There was nothing else I could do, so I threw myself over the bridge and into the canal. I stayed underneath for as long as I could, and the assassin thought me dead when I didn't resurface." She was whispering at the end.
Gendry's face had darkened, cast with shadows. Arya chewed her lip as he sat up further, and raised his hand to her tunic covered stomach. She stayed still as a stone as he gently pulled her shirt from her breeches, and slowly up over her skin, revealing the hideous mess of scars. When Sansa had seen it she had paled and shook and cried... but Gendry's face remained as still and as hard as carved stone. Arya said nothing as he gently placed his hand on the half covered wound, spanning his fingers across it, his thumb on the top of her hip bone, his smallest finger on the far side of her ribs. Arya watched him carefully for a reaction.
"Why is it still not healed?" He asked, his voice hard.
"I don't know," she admitted quietly. "It could be that the blade was poisoned, perhaps, or that its just in a place that never heals. Its fine though, it doesn't bleed so much anymore," she said, hoping to comfort him.
Gendry's eyes never left the wound. "How can you say its fine?" He asked tersely. "Look at yourself, Arya."
"I know," she said, sitting up, his hand still pressed against her stomach. "I got my revenge though." He looked up, and Arya offered a small smile. "An acting friend took me in... but the assassin found her. Killed her. I barely escaped. She chased me through all of the streets and through the crowds; I tricked her though. Used my blood to leave a trail, and led her to a small room, where I had hidden Needle. I cut out the candle and... well, I fight best in the dark." Arya remembered how it had been, to cut out the candle, and wonder if she would ever see light again... whether she would die by the waif's dagger, or live to fight another day.
Gendry's face had not moved from its set in stone expression as he stared at her scars, lightly running trembling fingertips over the damaged skin. Arya knew how it looked; Sansa's reaction had been more than enough. But Gendry said nothing, though she noticed his throat bob a couple of times and his jaw clench. Without thinking Arya raised a hand to rub away the throb in his temple where his jaw was clenched so tight. At her touch Gendry seemed to relax just slightly, though Arya could still see how tense he was from the set of his huge shoulders, bathed in the orange glow of the fire.
Arya felt her stomach roll uncomfortably; what if she had been wrong to tell him? Now she was sure she shouldn't have said anything, he still hadn't moved from his position above her. What was he thinking? Arya was good at reading peoples faces, it was an instinct for her, but right now she didn't know what was going through Gendry's mind. She didn't know why she had told him all of that, it hadn't been her intention, but it just kind of... slipped out. It was strange; to willingly give up information without too much probing. She wasn't a silent sister, but Arya had barely spoken in the last few years, but all of a sudden- all Gendry had to do was ask a question, and it was like everything came flooding out. Arya turned her face away, regretting her decision in telling him anything, even if it wasn't the full truth. That she could never tell him. No one could ever know about what she had almost become.
She heard him let out a shaky breath, and bit her lip. It had been a bad decision, telling him. His hand was still pressed against her stomach, stretching from one side to the other with ease, tan on cream, burning hot. Arya wondered if she had always associated Gendry with heat.
She became aware of Gendry lifting his other hand and placing it gently but firmly behind her head, threading his fingers through her hair to turn her face towards his as they sat both beside and opposite one another in the dying light of the fire. Arya chewed her lip, sure that he was going to say that she was a silly little girl that couldn't look after herself, or that he would keep her even more watched than before, or-
"I'm sorry," He said in a deep tone, that brought Arya shivering from her depths of thought. "I'm so sorry for everything you suffered." His eyes seemed darker, cast in shadow, as he gazed down at her. Arya felt her own eyes widen slightly and her lips parted as she watched his eyelids drop slightly. Arya watched, as still as stone, as Gendry tentatively tilted his head forwards, his forehead press against hers, his fringe brushing her skin.
"Why?" She asked, her voice slightly rough as his hand flexed against her stomach. His breath fanned across her, his eyelashes fluttered gently against her skin, and Arya closed her eyes as it tickled.
"Because..." He hesitated for a moment. "Because it's my fault. If I hadn't chosen the Brotherhood, if I had stayed with you..." His voice was harsh with frustration for himself.
"Gendry?" Arya asked quietly, placing her hand over his on her stomach.
"Yeah?" His eyelashes brushed lightly against her skin as she placed her other hand on his shoulder.
"Shut up," Arya said, her voice just as rough. He breathed out a single laugh, and, slowly, tentatively pulled her head closer with his hand, his thumb under her jaw angling her face up as he gently pressed his lips to hers. His touch was so light that Arya thought that she might just be imagining it, if not for him pressing closer, brushing his own lips over hers. They were chapped, and slightly salty, and for a moment Arya froze, unsure what to do... she wouldn't- couldn't- do this... Could she? She was the one that had fought and fought against him... but she realised, as he made to pull away, that she did want it. So, before his lips left hers entirely, Arya tilted her face up a little and brushed hers over his.
Gendry accepted her response smoothly, bringing his hand to her cheek, his skin hot. Arya felt his hair brush against her skin again, and pressed closer, her hand that was on his shoulder moving to his collar bone and sliding down a ways as Gendry brushed his lips over hers, once and then twice again, before pressing a third kiss to her lips and pulling away, just enough that Arya could almost still feel his lips on hers. His forehead leaned against hers as they both exhaled softly, and Arya brought her finger tips to her tingling lips.
That was... not what she had expected. Kissing had always looked so... so... messy. All noises and spit and movement. But that had been careful, slow, soft, like a beam of yellow sunlight bathing cool skin in a soft glow. Like a breath of wind fluttering leaves on the trees, or waking up slowly from a dream and opening your eyes with a small smile as the dream slipped away...
Arya opened her eyes to see Gendry watching her very carefully, his blue eyes cautious and looking for any sign of resent in hers. Arya thought about what they had just done and felt a blush bloom on her cheeks. She bit her lip and looked down in embarrassment, but Gendry pressed his thumb under her jaw again and lifted her face to meet his eyes.
He looked as though he was about to say something, but Arya looked away again, and cleared her throat. "It's getting late," she said, slowly drawing away from him. "We ought to get some rest." She watched Gendry bow his head and exhale.
"You're right," he said, nodding, though he made no move to lie down or take his hand off of her stomach, nor Arya to take her hand off his. Arya chewed her lip and nodded once before turning and laying on her side. She heard Gendry sigh, and then lie down beside her, though his hand stayed cocooned in hers over her scar.
As Gendry seemed to drift off into sleep, his arm still lying across her side, Arya found her mind a blurring mess of questions. She didn't understand what had happened... or she did, but not why. She had been adamant that nothing could ever happen between them, pushed him away at every turn but she was sure that it was getting harder to... and what would everyone say? Worse, what would Jon say? Arya didn't want to think about what things would even be like between them in the morning. Perhaps if they both pretended it hadn't happened... but it HAD happened, and there was no ignoring it.
What if... no, Arya would not even finish the thought. She wasn't Sansa or some other stupid girl. She knew that one small kiss did not equate to falling in love. It was just one moment, she decided. A moment had at an intense time. They were both tired, sad and drawn from the past, it was natural... but then, why did her stomach feel warm, and flutter in a not bad way when she thought about the man behind her?
Arya closed her eyes in the hope that she might drift off, but long after the flames turned to embers and the moon rose high, Arya resigned herself to a sleepless night.
Jon felt his insides freeze as he read the letter. He had received it two days prior, but had not had time to even think about it or what it might contain. He hadn't even looked at the seal, but when he saw who it was from he ripped it open with haste.
Why would Gendry be writing if not because something had gone desperately wrong? Was Arya hurt? Had she finally managed run away? Killed someone? Jon just knew he should never have given her that sword before she left, he should have waited. It had been a matter of weeks since the Baratheon company departed Winterfell, and Jon would be leaving with Sansa for Kings Landing in a couple of days. There was a great deal weighing on his mind, and as he wondered what Arya could have possibly done to warrant a raven, he pressed his lips together in weariness; how much could one person deal with? He had the move to Kings Landing and formally becoming king to worry about, as well as the alliance with the Tyrells and having agreed to pay towards Sansa's wedding. Then there was his own to think of, with Dany, and organising for Bran to take control of Winterfell, and Meera was not yet back... what more could he take on?
But, as he read Gendry's words, his frustration abated, and his organs felt as though they had turned to ice, growing colder with each sentence. He read it through four times before he screwed it up and slammed it on the desk.. So there it was. The truth, or some of it, about Arya's time in slavery. Jon hadn't really understood what she meant when she had mentioned it once before in anger, had thought that she must have been some kind of sellsword, but Jon remembered the tales of what Euron did to those slaves, and how he treated them... and Arya had been one of them. Jon wondered if Euron had known just who he had had. Probably not. If he had... Jon did not even want to think about it. He'd have given her to Cersei most likely, and Jon couldn't even imagine the horrors that the queen would have put his sister through.
But the situation was a tricky one.
Jon wanted to raise his army and storm the iron men, capture Euron and see to it that he met a similar end to Ramsey Bolton... but how exactly does one go about storming a fleet of ships if you don't know where they are? Gendry had said they were at Cape Kraken, but that could have been weeks ago. Who was to say they weren't near Dorne somewhere by now? Besides, it was more complicated than that.
Euron had already been formally pardoned for his crimes, and just because Arya happened to be one of the slaves Jon couldn't go back on his word. No, they needed to be smart about this... but Jon was not the best of tacticians. He knew his battles better than any man, and could plan them to a point, but this wasn't a battle, it was a trap. And traps had to be laid by someone sneaky, someone sly enough to see all of the ins and outs. And Jon knew just the man for the job...
Arya winced as Gendry's arm tightened around her waist, squirming uncomfortably in his grasp. She remembered him as being easy to wake, but she had tried whispering his name and poking him, all to no avail. But Arya needed to get up, he was so hot, and her side was aching. Arya gently, but firmly extracted herself from his grip, and sat up slowly, sighing as the blood returned to her one arm. She stood and stretched, working the stiffness from her shoulders and neck, wincing as her back cricked uncomfortably. The fire had turned to dimly glowing embers, and she gently stocked at it until flames began to grow again.
As she turned around from her crouch, she smiled upon catching sight of Gendry, on his back, one leg pulled up and the other stretched out long at a tangent to the fire pit. Even asleep Arya couldn't believe how big he had grown since they were children- or at least, since she was a child. It was still so strange to think of him as a man grown; it felt as though they had been adults grown from when they first met, but seeing him now compared to then Arya realised how young and afraid they must have appeared to the Brotherhood when they were first caught. Children in an adults war. Forced to grow up too quickly. That must be why Jayce seemed so young despite his age; perhaps it was normal for boys that age to be like that. Arya wouldn't know; she had spent little time around people her own age.
She stood and wandered over to the crest of the hill, and looked out across the wide valley. She could see the glow of fires and silhouettes of tents in the camp, could even hear a few horses snorting, and beyond that she could hear the breeze rolling off the surface of the water, and beyond that... she could see the shadows of the two black towers.
And suddenly, where she had only been filled with the urge to put as much distance between herself and there as possible, Arya felt drawn to them. To see if it was as empty as she felt. It was perhaps a league, about two hours on foot, but with Astrid at the bottom of the hill... she estimated she could be there within a quarter of that.
Gendry sighed in his sleep behind her, and Arya bit her lip. There was no way that he would agree to her going there... but he had asked earlier. Arya felt the corner of her mouth twitch. That was only because he was planning on sending a guard down with her, as paranoid as he is, Arya thought as she watched him stretch unconsciously, he would be furious if you went alone.
Arya looked over her shoulder at the towers again and smirked. That was only if he found out though. Arya was sure that she could be back before he even woke; by the moons position in the sky Arya knew she had to have at least five hours before light. That was plenty of time; she could go there, look around, come back, and Gendry would never even need to know she had gone anywhere.
But as Arya picked up her sword belt quietly and buckled it around her waist, she thought that if he did wake, and found her missing, she would not like to be the first person he spoke to. With the thought in mind, Arya slipped silently and quickly into the shadows and down the bank, leaving Gendry alone by the fire.
Aaaay, Ok, not my longest chapter but it'll do! Woah, sorry about all of the dialogue, it was pretty hefty in this chapter, but hopefully I made up for it with their first kiss! Uuugh I was soo conflicted about this chapter- I wrote it, deleted it, re wrote it, deleted it, and then wrote the first one again! Well, I hope it was ok anyway. It was so hard though, because I had so many ideas about how it could pan out differently, but I went with this one... so no turning back! Anyway, I hope you all like it, I'll get to writing the next chapter! I'm sorry that its been so long between updates recently, I wouldn't blame anyone that gave up on me! Hopefully we'll be a bit on track from here on... until my next set of exams at any right :(((( As always, drop me a review or a pm to let me know what you're thinking, and thanks so much to those who do! It helps so much to hear your feedback! Anyway, hope you're enjoying the story so far, Over and Out xox