Chapter 28
Dragons, kings, queens, or war, he didn't want any of it. He was stuck with a whole lot of everything he didn't want. A decent bed, a hot fire, a hammer and some food were all he wanted in life. Well, that wasn't entirely true anymore.
He watched as Arya danced around a flustered Kingslayer. Jamie Lannister insisted on training with his left hand, even though he was injured. The man wasn't strong enough to fight his lady companion, who was worrying endlessly over the Kingslayer. Arya volunteered to fight him.
Gendry chuckled, as Arya managed to poke and slice the best knight in Westeros. He loved watching her fight. When Arya fought, she was completely free and open; the way she was meant to be.
"Have you thought on it?" Robb asked, easing down next to him. The injuries to the King in the North's side were not severe, but Robb was moving slower.
"Some" He replied, still watching Arya fight.
"The dragons will be back soon."
"You'll all have my decision by then."
Robb nodded his head in acknowledgment. "I think she is better at war than I am." Robb watched Arya slap Lannister on the wrist with the flat of her blade.
Gendry ran the stone over an already sharp edge. "She's better at most things."
"You know I would not ask you to consider this, if we were not losing this war."
Gendry sat the sword and his sharpening stone down, turning his head towards Robb. "I know; if the crown were truly mine, I would give it up in half a thought. The crown belongs to Tommen. If I have to fight for it, I will." Robb fell silent, watching his sister.
After the small incident with Mollen and her magic, Robb, himself, and the Targaryens returned to speak on an alliance. Daenerys and Aegon only wanted the Iron throne. Robb would keep the north, but he was supposed to step down. In exchange, the dragons and their army were on the frontline, fighting along side their combined armies. For the time being, Mollen was not brought up again in discussions.
As far as he knew, none of the men knew what was being discussed in their war counsel. He knew, if he did step down, some of the men would call him a coward. Robert would roll over in his grave, if he bent the knee to a Targaryen. Not for the first time, he wondered why all of this was happening to him, a bastard boy from Flea Bottom.
A horn sounded to his west. All of camp readied themselves for the upcoming attack. The smaller bands of wights would find a spot along their perimeter and attack. It happed so often it became part of the camp routine. By the time he and Robb made it to the attack, the men were already hauling the dead to be burned. "That should be the last of them for awhile; I believe it is almost morning." Gendry parted from Robb and made his way across the camp.
He helped the men with some of the day to day duties, before winding up back at his tent.
Their days were reversed. Most slept during the day now, so they were alert for the night, when most of the attacks happened. He planned on crashing onto his cot to get away from his thoughts. Nothing ever went as planned. "What are you doing here?"
Arya sat on his bed sharpening her blade. "Jamie is bugging Brienne…again."
"You shouldn't be here." It was what he said, but he was thrilled to see her. Arya ignored his words and continued messing with her blade. "Jon"
"Jon is with Mollen." Arya cut him off.
Gendry turned his back to her. "You still shouldn't be here."
"Stupid" Arya mumbled to herself as she sat her blade down.
He knew she wasn't leaving without a fight. Honestly he wasn't even sure he wanted to fight her. Gendry shed his armor and washed his face. "Do you need something?" He finally asked her, sitting down at his writing table.
"No"
"Why are you here?"
Arya shrugged. "It is quiet." He let the silence grow between them. "I think something is wrong with Mollen." Arya finally blurted out. She usually talked if he stayed quiet long enough.
"What makes you say that?"
"She forgot my name."
"I could talk with Jon."
"I already did. He said it was not my concern." He should have known that she would talk to Jon first; she always went to Jon first. "She is my friend. How is that not my concern?" Arya complained angrily.
He was starting to notice small differences in Mollen too. For one, she was speaking less and less of their language. "Jon will let us know if it becomes our concern."
"Maybe… Have you made up your mind?" Arya abruptly changed the subject.
"What do you mean?" He questioned uncertainly.
Arya scoffed. "Are you going to give up the crown?" He froze. Nobody was supposed to know about that.
Gendry stood and walked quickly to his bed. "How do you know that?" He questioned.
Arya smiled crookedly. "You and Robb are terrible at keeping secrets. Don't worry the rest of the men are even worse at figuring things out." Gendry sat down hard on the cot, putting his head in his hands. If there was a chance word could get out, he had to make up his mind quickly.
"I don't know." He said leaning his head back.
"We need those dragons, but how do we know, once she has the throne, she will not come for the North? We really do not know anything about her."
Gendry looked over at Arya in awe. It took them all day in discussions to sum up everything like she just did. "It's Tommen's crown."
"Then let him help decide." Arya paused. "What else does she want?"
Arya already knew the biggest part of the discussions, so it wouldn't hurt to tell her the rest. "Mollen and the Kingslayer dead."
Arya made a face. "I understand Jamie, but why Mollen?"
Gendry shrugged. "She hates magic for some reason."
"That's stupid. Mollen even hates magic and she IS magic." Arya shifted on the bed.
He realized how close he was to her. "You really should go back to your tent."
"Too many people, and I can only be around Jamie for so long before I want to stab him." Arya said, kicking legs out in front of her. Gendry laughed loudly. He could actually picture Arya stabbing the Kingslayer. After his laughter died, the silence spread between them once again, but unlike other girls, it was a comfortable silence. They both watched as Nymeria pushed into his tent and curled up in front of the fire. Arya watched her wolf with a small smile. "She likes it here."
The giant wolf was always sleeping in his tent. The first couple of times, it was extremely hard to fall asleep. He wasn't certain if Nymeria was going to rip out his throat or not. She never did, just watched him. In a strange way it was comforting. "Yes, she does. I can't get rid of either of you." He jested. Arya punched his arm with a scowl on her face.
Gendry just laughed. Almost everything she did made him laugh. "You really are a terrible lady." He said rubbing his arm. Arya swung again, but he grabbed her arm before she hit him. Arya struggled weakly in his grasp. He was laughing, until she stopped moving.
Arya's grey eyes were watching him closely. He should let go of her wrist and get away. He knew that. He couldn't. "Gendry?" Arya said his name quietly as she rolled up on her knees.
His throat seemed dry. No words would come as she inched closer to him. She didn't try to pull away from him, and that was probably the most terrifying part. "Arya" It was a whisper, or maybe even a prayer. Her eyes never left his. Neither of them spoke, while his heart tried to escape from his chest. Arya's other hand somehow landed on his shoulder. He barely noticed it. His eyes wouldn't leave hers, but he could feel her heartbeat dancing in her wrist.
Arya quickly leaned in and pressed her lips to his. He was frozen in place, while fire pumped through his body. Her lips were soft, but the kiss was firm. It was over entirely too quickly, and his wits hadn't had time to recover. Some voice in the back of his head was yelling at him to stop her. Arya sat back on her knees still watching him. "Wh…what was that for?" He stammered out stupidly. Arya looked at his hand, still holding her wrist.
She shrugged slightly, still looking at his hand. "The men were talking about kissing. I wanted to know what all the fuss was about." He saw a blush flare across her cheeks. Her curiosity or her stubbornness was going to be the death of him. He wasn't sure which one would get him first. "I don't see why it's such a big deal. It's just lips touching."
Gendry felt his face heat up. "That's not the kind of kiss they're talking about." The kiss was more than he dared to hope for, but it was just a chaste kiss.
"What kind of kiss then?" Arya challenged, all embarrassment gone. "Did I do it wrong?"
He was certain his ears were bright red now. "No not wrong, just different. You're not supposed to be around the men." He tried to change the subject.
Arya shot him a look. "How is it different?"
"Why are you asking me this?" He whined. This was pure torture.
"Because you are Gendry." Arya said simply. The words were simple, but to him it meant she trusted him.
Gendry took a deep breath. "The kiss is different, not because of how you do it, but how you mean it." Arya bit her lip in thought. He knew he was going to the worst of the seven hells, when his body leaned closer and gently pulled her closer. Her lips slightly parted in surprise. He took the opportunity to nip at that bottom lip she loved to chew on. Arya's breath hitched, but she did the same to him in return. He should've known she would be a quick learner.
Gendry was never his father's son when it came to women, but he kissed a few women in his day. He was using everything he learned on Arya. The kiss chased away the cold and the uncertainties of war. Arya nipped at his lips with her teeth, as she explored his mouth. Some stung, but he didn't mind, not when he could feel her lips pressing eagerly against his. Time was non existent with her touching him, pulling him closer. When she pulled herself into his lap, he almost didn't notice, almost. The part of him that wanted to keep his head won out.
Gendry gently spun Arya onto his pallet and pulled away. It took him several moments to get his thoughts in order. Arya was looking up at him, her lips slightly swollen. "Was that not right either?"
He choked back a laugh. "That was very right Arya."
"Then why did you stop?"
Gendry crossed the room and knelt down in front of her. "Arya if I keep kissing you Jon will take my head."
"Bugger Jon, I am not a child."
He was painfully aware of that. "Then if I keep kissing you, I will want to keep you."
Arya glared at him. "I am not a horse."
"I know; horses are far less difficult." He said laughing.
"Hey!" Arya shoved him back onto his ass. He couldn't stop laughing now.
After several moments of her glaring angrily and him laughing, Arya asked him a question that caught him off guard. "Why do you not hate me for hitting you?" Everyone else gets angry."
Her vulnerability startled him. "How could I hate you for being who you are?"
"Because I am a terrible lady."
"If you were any kind of Lady, I would be dead in the fields of snow."
"That is true. You really need to improve your swordsmanship."
"No I don't; because I have a hammer and a warrior princess at my side." He joked, knowing how much she hated being called princess.
Arya went strangely still and quiet. "It wouldn't be so bad."
"What?" He was so confused.
"If you were to keep me." He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I will never be a proper lady."
"I would never ask you to be one." He said slowly, trying to take in what she was saying. He dared to hope for the first time. "Arya, just so we are clear; if I were to ask you to ask you to marry me, you would be my lady?"
Arya narrowed her eyes at him. She really hated that term. "Aye, as long as you are not stupid about it, but I really do not have a say in who I get to marry."
He scooped her up in his arms and kissed her again. "I will speak to Robb." Arya kissed him quickly and slid out of his arms.
"What about the crown?"
"I don't want it."
"You would give it up?"
"We have to win this war. I'm not sure we can without the dragons." He answered honestly.
Arya nodded once in agreement. "Do what you have to do, but make sure you don't give her everything she wants. The men respect you; they will follow." With one last kiss, he put on his furs again. "Where are you going? Arya asked before he stepped out.
"I have a war to win."
"Now?"
"I need to speak with Tommen and talk to Robb about our betrothal."
Arya nodded. "I should talk to Jon." She grimaced.
"I can." He volunteered for a truly terrifying task.
"No, I do not want him to feed you to his dragon or something."
He hadn't even thought about that option. "You speak to Jon then." Arya's smile was the last thing he saw as he stepped out into his new future.
