Many thanks to 'yourforestlass' for the Latin translations! You are awesome!

I also want to give a shout out to 'cosa' – my wonderful translator who has patiently and painstakingly translated Gossip Spyder into Russian so that an entirely new audience can also appreciate this monstrous epic fanfiction of mine! Thank you!

Note: Chaebol definition - (in South Korea) a large family-owned business conglomerate.


Episode 29

"Days of Christmas"


22nd December


Gossip Spyder

Last night's recital was one of the most exciting productions we have seen in the last few years! Not only did we have a surprise duet from Sansa Stark and Gendry Waters - who had everyone in the audience blushing with their on-stage chemistry - we also got to see the Brotherhood Without Banners join them on stage! Awesome show everyone! Highlights from the evening are available to view on the KL Prep website, including Sansa and Gendry's duet.

In further lessons in chemistry, Gendry was also spotted getting close to contemporary dancer Jazmine Choi, daughter of chaebol, Choi International Group. Gendry offered his jacket to his shivering damsel, and even assisted her to put it on, proving that chivalry is not dead! I have also heard whispers about Jazmine being seen in the front row at the Brotherhood's gig the previous week, and that she was later witnessed sitting on Gendry's lap in the VIP lounge after the show. Is there a hot new romance blossoming?

Let's all wait and see!

Tata for now!

Gossip Spyder


Gendry

What the hell was wrong with people? He thought. He had given his jacket to Jazmine because she was going to freeze in her dance costume otherwise. He was only trying to help her, like any decent human being would do, but obviously people were reading far more into his actions than it actually was. He could only hope that Jazmine didn't see it that way, too.

"She wasn't sitting in my lap!" Gendry clicked out of Gossip Spyder's blog. "Fuck this shit!"


Arya

She hadn't been the only one who'd seen it then. Jazmine and Gendry were getting close. She didn't know how Gendry felt about the girl, but if he was being attentive and caring towards her, then perhaps he was ready to move on. If he hasn't already.


Jaqen

Perhaps this is a good development, he thought. Not that Gossip Spyder's words were to be taken as gospel, but if Arya had read the post then she would know that there was a new girl at Gendry's side. He had already attempted to discourage her from getting too involved in Gendry's family problems by reminding her of the disasters she had unwittingly caused the last time she had tried to help those she cared about, however well-meaning her intentions were. He would mention to Arya that if Gendry was indeed getting involved with a new girl, then all the more reason for her to keep her distance.

Jaqen observed his left forearm, seeing the marks that Arya had left there the day before. The red welts giving evidence to how he had made her feel under his touch. Watching her come undone had been glorious. She'd gazed at him in wonder and surprise, and he suspected that she had never felt like that before.

"If you would learn, then you must come with me." Jaqen had told her.

He chuckled to himself, hearing Arya's voice accusing him of saying the cheesiest things. There were many things he wanted to show her, and he would happily bear more of her marks on his body if it meant being able to see the pleasure on her face again and again.

His lips formed an expression that was half a smile and half a smirk as he glanced at his arm, remembering the urgency in Arya's grip and the sting as her nails had scratched into his skin. His pain was her pleasure. Over the next few days, Jaqen would wear this same expression every time he caught sight of his arm.


Sansa

"What do you want to eat?" Sandor asked her the moment she stepped into his car. "We can go anywhere you like."

She kissed his cheek before buckling her seatbelt. "You know, I was hoping we could go to Serpentine Alley again. There were lots of cute little cafes and eateries there, and I've been craving those lemon cakes recently."

"Okay, but don't tell your parents I've taken you to Flea Bottom."

"I won't, don't worry."

She was feeling relaxed and happy, finally stress free after having completed all of her outstanding assignments for school and glad that the recital was over. Her relationships too were on track. All of them. After Sandor and Arya had come clean with her the week before, she had spent the next couple of days stewing over the fact they'd lied to her and about the lost time she might have had with Sandor, as well as the negative feelings she'd harbored for her only sister during that time. However, after going over the facts that she had learned, she knew that the positives of learning the truth outweighed the regrets, and this had finally lightened her heart.

Sandor and Arya never dated, so she no longer felt guilty about her feelings for him and for being with him. They had lied, but only to protect her from Joffrey. Sandor and Arya had wanted to keep her safe, and for Sansa, knowing that they cared about her moved her deeply. Her relationship with both Sandor and Arya had changed, but for the better.

"Hey, did you read that post about Gendry and the pretty dancer girl?" Sansa asked Sandor as he merged onto the Expressway.

"It's bullshit," he replied.

"What makes you say that?" Sansa looked at him. "I saw how gentle he was when he helped her into his jacket last night."

"He wasn't being gentle," Sandor corrected her, "he was trying not to touch her more than he had to."

"You saw that? Where were you hiding anyway? How could you tell?"

Sandor chuckled roughly. "Trust me. The guy has no interest in the dancer girl."

"Then why did he give her his jacket to wear?"

"Because he's a fool." Sandor continued to chuckle. "A kind, but stupid fool."

"I thought you were friends."

"I like the guy well enough, but he still acted stupidly."

"You don't think he's over Arya?"

"Not a chance." Sandor shook his head darkly. "He fucking glared daggers at me for weeks even though he knew I wasn't really with your sister."

"Gendry knew you were both faking it?"

Sandor shrugged. "Your sister told him the truth when it looked like he was ready to start a fight with me."

"So, he really likes her that much?"

"Yep."

Sansa sighed, feeling sorry for the guy. It had to be hard for Gendry. She knew just as well as Sandor did that you couldn't just switch off your feelings for someone like a light bulb, even if they were in a relationship with someone else. It was an inescapable, unrelenting kind of torture.

"I hope he'll at least give Jazmine a chance," Sansa said, "it could be exactly what he needs to get over Arya."

They reached their destination in short time, and Sandor parked his Mustang in the same undercover garage again. This time, when he led her towards the steeply winding steps in the cliffs, her hand was firmly grasped in his. Sansa hadn't been to River's Edge since her birthday when she had begged Sandor to take her wherever he was going. It was a poignant memory for her, because she had began looking at Sandor differently from that day.

Serpentine Alley had been a magical sight in the early evening, and it was no less magical now in the bright winter sunshine. There were festive Christmas decorations everywhere, adding to the already colorful shop fronts and exotic vibe of the alley. Sansa grinned at the sight.

Choosing a little Russian cafe called Katrin's Kitchen tucked into one of the lower laneways, they sat down in the cave-like dining area that had been decorated with rugs in vibrant red and gold hues, ornate lanterns and bright cushions in embellished fabrics. Between them, they ordered piroshki filled with minced beef, chicken pelmeni in a mushroom sauce, and golubtsi in a tomato and sour cream sauce.

Food, she had come to realize, played a very important part in any of her outings with her boyfriend. Sansa studied him while they waited for their food, seeing how he fidgeted with his glass of water, how his eyes took in their surroundings, and how he watched her in turn.

"What?" he finally asked when her eyes had wandered up and down his form several times over.

"I was just wondering how often you have to eat to maintain your size? I mean, I have brothers and I know they eat like machines, but they're nowhere near as big as you."

He narrowed his eyes at the comparison. "I'm always hungry."

"You are six-six and you must burn a lot of energy," she regarded him, "I guess you would be hungry all the time."

He leaned across the table and gave her one of his mocking grins. "Not always for food, little bird."

"Huh?" she wondered. Then the penny dropped, and Sansa's jaw dropped too. "Oh."

Sandor laughed and leaned back into his seat while Sansa bit her lip and tried not to get embarrassed by the innuendo.

"What will you be doing for Christmas?" Sansa asked him when their food finally arrived.

"I haven't told you?"

"No, you kept avoiding my question."

He made a face. "My brother is coming home for the holidays."

"Oh." Sansa's smile faded.

"Yeah." Sandor frowned. "Don't come to my house. If you want to see me, I'll come to you."

"Understood."

They continued eating, and Sandor changed the subject. "You said your family were having dinner with the Tyrells on Christmas Eve?"

"That's right," Sansa replied, "with both our families having recently moved here, Margaery's father thought it would be a nice idea for us to have dinner together, given that neither of our extended families will be around."

"All of Margaery's brothers will be coming home, I suppose?"

"I think so," Sansa said with a nod, "Margaery said she hasn't seen all of her brothers together in a while, so she's excited about that."

"You and Margaery have gotten pretty close lately,"

"We have," Sansa agreed.

"How?"

"Oh, she just helped me out with a problem I had." Sansa had not told him that Margaery had been the one who had encouraged her to visit him during his self-imposed exile after bailing out of the championship match.

"Your brothers are coming down as well?"

"Yeah, they'll be here on the twenty-fourth. Christmas Day we'll all spend at Chateau Maegor, and then on the twenty-sixth we'll all be joining the Tyrells again."

"What for?"

"They've invited us to go horse riding."

"Really?"

"Willas is a champion equestrian, and when I told him that I used to ride, he couldn't wait to invite me to go riding with him. I think Margaery said this riding party was his idea."

"I'll bet," Sandor muttered.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," Sandor dismissed her question with a wave of his hand. "You're telling me I might not get to see you at all over the holidays?"

She smiled at him sweetly. "We can video chat."

He made a noise of disgust. "You know what I mean."

"Are you going to miss me?" she teased.

Sandor's grey eyes met her blue ones, before slowly scanning the lines of her face, her lips, along her neck and down to her chest with an expression of a different kind of hunger on his face. Slowly, he brought his eyes back to hers, and she saw the answer in their silvery depths. She felt as though he could have devoured her with his look.

Yeah, he'll definitely miss me.


23rd December


Gossip Spyder

Good morning peeps!

You all might want to check out the scoop that the Westeros Gazette is reporting! The local newspaper claims to have received audio that was recorded outside of the KL Prep auditorium after the recital the other night. Take a listen everyone, because this is the first piece of evidence we have that could confirm the claims made in the King's Landing Herald, proving that Gendry Waters is the son of Robert Baratheon!

Boys and girls, the voices you will hear are alleged to be those of Mrs. Olenna Tyrell, Mace and Alerie Tyrell as well as that of Gendry Waters himself. It is alleged that this exchange occurred when Gendry was being introduced to Margaery's family. You should all know by now that Margaery's father Mace Tyrell, is one third of the joint-venture business partnership including Eddard Stark and Robert Baratheon, so it is fair to say that the Tyrell's are perfectly credible sources of information. A transcript of the conversation is below.

OT: There's no mistaking it then...it's clear that the young man is indeed Robert's son. The resemblance is even more uncanny when you see his face in person.

AT: Now, now Mother. Not so loud or people might hear you.

OT: Hush, Alerie, don't take that tone with me. And don't call me Mother. If I'd given birth to you, I'm sure I'd remember. The only one I'm to blame for is your oaf of a husband.

MT: Do excuse my mother. She means no offense.

OT: The young man knows I'm only stating a fact. You are the spitting image of your father, but I daresay you have far more talent than he. All he seems to have an aptitude for is drinking and womanizing.

GW: Then I'm thankful I didn't inherit those talents from him.

I was already convinced when I saw those pictures of Gendry next to Robert and Renly, but now I'm 200% convinced! What is everyone's opinion on this? Let me know!

It's only a half-day of school today, woohoo! I know many of you have exciting plans for the holidays, but I will be staying in King's Landing (booo!). However, don't forget that my eyes and ears are everywhere so you can be sure I'll keep bringing you the most up-to-the-minute news and gossip!

Tata for now!

Gossip Spyder


Eddard

He was first made aware that something was amiss when he received a phone call from Mace Tyrell just after he reached the office that morning, sounding very irate.

"Slow down, Mace," Ned said, "you're speaking too fast and I cannot understand a word you're saying."

"It's my mother!" Mace all but shouted down the line. "That mouth of hers has landed us in the tabloids."

"Tabloids? What's happened?"

"That comment when we met Gendry Waters," the man managed to say, "someone recorded it, and somehow it's gotten into the hands of a tabloid newspaper."

"Which paper?"

"The Westeros Gazette."

"That local rag? Mace, you can't –"

"It's on their website, Ned!" Mace spat. "Go and listen for yourself. I'll call you back in a moment, my other line is ringing...I'm sure that'll be Robert calling."

The man hung up with an irritated sigh, and Ned promptly visited the Gazette's website as Mace had suggested. The headline jumped out at him immediately. Olenna Tyrell reveals shocking truth on Gendry Waters!

He scanned the article which confirmed what Mace had just told him. Olenna had been recorded confirming that Gendry was Robert's son, and Gendry himself had concurred. Ned listened to the recording in its entirety and shook his head. He had been present when the original conversation had taken place and the only positive he could see in the situation was that there was no visual to accompany the audio.

With no visual to confirm the identity of the voices on the recording, the Baratheons and Tyrells still had the option to deny it all. Personally, his only concern was how this latest scandal was going to affect Gendry and his foster-family. Stannis Baratheon's presence in the boy's life now had to be considered, too. Ned was worried about this development, but he couldn't say what was causing his feeling of unease.

They still had no tangible leads on who had leaked Gendry's birth certificate to the Herald in the first place, and it appeared Robert's legal people had not been able to dig up anything useful. Whoever had been behind the leak had covered their tracks, both physical and digital, extremely well.

His phone rang once again and Robert's name appeared on the display. Ned seldom uttered profanities, but he felt compelled to use one then.

"Fucking hell," he muttered.

Then he picked up the phone.


Gendry

School had only been a half-day, and he was glad that it was finally over. It was the official start of the holidays and he had never looked forward to the holidays more in his life. The Gazette's exposé had been a hassle he really could have done without. Of course everyone at school had read about it on Gossip Spyder's blog, and it really wasn't the start to the festive season that he had planned. He really needed a break, and the holidays would give him the chance to step away from prying eyes and all the gossiping for a few days.

Margaery Tyrell had chosen to stay away from school, understandably, but Sansa had approached him on her behalf.

"Margaery sends her apologies. Her grandmother would like to speak with you, if you'll agree to meeting with her." Sansa had given him a look of understanding.

"Give me Margaery's number," Gendry had replied, "I'll call her if I feel like talking."

His contact list was growing, and by now he could safely say most of the names on his phone belonged to girls from King's Landing's prominent families. He didn't harbor any ill feeling towards Margaery as she hadn't been the one that made those comments, but he wasn't ready to be so generous towards her grandmother.

His phone had rung almost as soon as he reached home, with the first caller being the fancy-pants lawyer, wanting to confirm the authenticity of the Gazette's story.

"It's true," Gendry said to the man, "that's my voice on the recording. But, don't worry. I've learned my lesson, so save your lecturing."

"Olenna Tyrell may have goaded you into making the admittance, but you're forgetting what we talked about, Gendry. Deny, deny, deny." The lawyer hammered into him.

"Why?" he demanded, "why do I have to keep denying it when it's true? If I have to keep denying it because that's what the Baratheons want me to do, then you can go and tell them to kiss my ass. It's not my fault Robert couldn't keep his dick in his pants. Let him deal with this shit!"

Gendry had hung up on the lawyer angrily, before he had gone to face Ellen and Tobho. Ellen was already on leave for the holidays, and Tobho had come home from work early, alerted by the lawyer to the newest scandal afflicting them.

"I should have known better than to make any kind of comment in public," he told them, "even to the Tyrells. I never wanted to bring more attention to us, but it happened and I'm sorry."

"There's nothing you need to apologise for," Tobho said, "there's nothing to forgive."

"It was a private discussion that was recorded without your knowledge. We know you never meant for this to happen. Don't be too hard on yourself, okay?" Ellen squeezed his hand.

Gendry looked at them with eyes brimming with emotion. "Do you think it's right that I have to keep denying the truth? I mean, it's as though I'm being forced to keep denying who I am, you know? I don't like that I share DNA with those people, but this is who I am. All we've been doing is what the lawyer has told us to do. The lawyer that Robert Baratheon is paying for, and that really makes me wonder whose best interest he's really looking out for. Do you see what I mean?"

Ellen and Tobho considered his words as though the thought had never crossed their minds.

"What do you want to do, Gendry?" Ellen asked him, eyes wide.

"I think it's time we got our own lawyer." Gendry stated.

"Who would we even ask about finding a new lawyer?" Tobho wondered.

"There is someone I could ask," Gendry replied, "I think this man will be able to help us."

"Who would that be?"

"Arya's father. Eddard Stark."

"Do you trust him, Gendry?" Ellen looked at him solemnly.

"Yeah, I trust him." Gendry nodded reassuringly. "I haven't told you, but he's offered us his assistance before, and honestly I never thought we'd ever need his help."

Tobho cleared his throat. "I think that this is a conversation you should let me handle, Gendry. If you have his contact number, I'll call him and I'll take care of dealing with the lawyers."

Gendry sighed gratefully. "Okay. Thank you."

Later that afternoon, Tobho disappeared into Ellen's home office and made a number of phone calls. He returned to the living wearing a hopeful smile on his face some time later.

"Eddard Stark has kindly referred us to an old friend of his, a man named Donald Luwin, of Luwin Lawyers."

"He sounds expensive," Ellen said with a small look of worry on her face.

"I have money," Gendry said, "I can afford it."

Tobho's smile grew broader. "Attorney Luwin has apparently partially retired, and he's agreed to represent Gendry as a favor to Eddard Stark."

"And?" Ellen prompted him, seeing that this was not the end of the story.

"Pro bono."

Ellen and Gendry stared at him in shock for a moment, before Gendry shook his head to clear it.

"He doesn't need to do that. We can pay."

"He's been following your story in the media Gendry, or so he's said, and he has not been impressed with how Pycelle & Associates have handled your representation. Attorney Luwin has said that he has a personal as well as professional interest in your case, and for those reasons, he will represent you without charge. Starting immediately."

"Seriously?"

"He asked if he could begin with the process of severing ties with Pycelle & Associates as well as drawing up the terms of your engagement. I said yes, and we have a meeting with him immediately after the new year when his office re-opens."

"That's great." Gendry smiled, glad to feel like he was finally taking control of one aspect of his life.

Davos Seaworth contacted him early in the evening on behalf of Stannis.

"Your uncle doesn't see this as a negative development," Davos said, "as far as Stannis is aware, neither you nor your family have been made to sign anything that prevents you from speaking the truth. Is that correct?"

"We haven't signed anything like that," Gendry replied, "the only papers I recall signing were about the money I received, before all this shit became public and I found out who my father was by reading about it in a newspaper."

"It's one messy business," Davos sympathized, "but, be assured that you've done nothing wrong."

"That's exactly what I was thinking."

"Then worry yourself no further. Have a merry Christmas, and we'll see you in the new year."

He'd been receiving a lot of text messages throughout the day, too. A lot of his close friends had readily recognized his voice at the end of the recording, while others had not been so sure. All of them had asked if he was okay. Gendry had replied to the ones he cared about, and deemed that the others could wait.

It wasn't until much later that night when he was about to go to sleep that the phone call from Arya came through. It surprised him, because he'd waited all day for a text message, and had been convinced that she wasn't going to contact him at all.

"Arya," he said, his voice raspy due to the lateness of the hour.

"Hi, Gendry," she paused for a second, "how are you? How are you holding up?"

"I'm doin' fine," he replied, "my foster-parents were worried, but we'll be okay. Thanks for asking."

"I'm glad you're okay." Gendry heard the relief in her voice. "I didn't see you at school today, but Sansa said she managed to catch you before you left school."

"She did. She told me that Margaery feels bad about her family's involvement in all of it."

"I know. My father's been trying to mediate between the Tyrells and Baratheons all day."

"I don't envy him." Gendry grimaced.

"Mother made him turn off his phone a while ago. She said there's nothing he can do and that the Tyrells could handle Robert."

"That's fair," Gendry agreed, "it's not your father's problem."

"I'm kind of dreading going to dinner at the Tyrells' tomorrow night."

"You're spending Christmas Eve with them?"

"Yeah. We'll be going to La Maison des Fleurs.

"The House of Flowers?" Gendry had studied basic French.

"That's the name of their mansion."

"And I thought Chateau Maegor was pretentious," Gendry muttered, "why do rich folks like to give their houses names, anyway?"

Arya laughed. "I don't know, that's a good question."

"Have fun," he said, unconvincingly.

"I'll try," she snorted, "but at least there's no dress code so I don't have to worry about my mother trying to make me wear something of her choosing again."

"You look pretty in anything you wear," Gendry said before he could stop himself.

There was an awkward moment of silence on the other end of the line, and Gendry wished for lightning to strike him down as he sat there shaking his head, mentally cursing himself.

"Thank you," Arya finally said. "Listen, I better let you go. It's late and you were probably about to sleep."

"You should get some sleep, too."

"I'm already in bed," she told him.

"Okay," he cleared his throat, a vision of her in bed popping into his mind. "Thanks for calling."
"Oh, um...sorry about calling so late. I didn't know...I mean, I wasn't sure you'd be picking up your calls. I'm sure you must have had a lot of your friends...and girls calling you today."

"You're the only one who called, Arya," he said, "I'm really glad that you did."

It was the first time Arya had ever called him at night, and the first time he'd ever spoken to any girl while lying in bed. It was a bittersweet realisation, because it wasn't the kind of conversation he wanted to be having with her.

"I'll let you go to sleep now," she said again.

"Okay." Gendry sighed tiredly. "Goodnight, Arya."

"Goodnight, Gendry," she all but whispered, "sweet dreams."

The call ended and Gendry placed his phone back onto the table beside his bed. He settled into his pillow, and his last lucid thought before falling asleep was that Arya's voice wishing him sweet dreams sounded quite beautiful to his ears.


24th December


Gossip Spyder

One more sleep before Santa comes to visit! yay

I hope all you boys and girls have been good this year! What does everyone have planned for this evening? I know I'll be keeping warm and drinking hot chocolate, while wishing that I could be at the La Maison des Fleurs, where the Starks are rumored to be having dinner with the Tyrells. I heard on the grapevine that all the Tyrell and Stark brothers will be in town for Christmas and New Year. I really wish I could be there to bask in all that wondrous male sexiness! LOL!

Tata for now

Gossip Spyder


Sansa

Her brothers were arriving at Chateau Maegor later in the morning and she was excited to be seeing them again. A lot had happened since Robb and Jon had last been there, and she already had a script prepared for the interrogation she knew Robb would subject her to. She had a feeling that her brothers would have been keeping a close watch on Gossip Spyder's posts.

Her excitement waned a fraction when she recalled how vastly different her experience would be to Sandor, whose own brother was arriving home that day too.

"With any luck, Gregor will just stay in his room and not bother me," Sandor had grumbled.

"Why is he coming home if he hates being there?" Sansa had asked.

Sandor had shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe he'll be all alone in the dorms when everyone else goes home and he'll have no one to bother."

"What about your father?"

"I haven't seen him in two years," he had replied, "and I can go another two more without problem. He sent more money though, so that's something."

Sansa had invited him to spend Christmas Day with her family, but he had refused, and she had seen how uncomfortable the thought had made him, even as he'd gruffly denied wanting to intrude on her family.

She had given him a Christmas present, which he'd sworn not to open until the actual day, but she still wondered if there was anything more she could do for him. She had a feeling that Sandor probably hadn't celebrated Christmas for a long time, and the thought had made her sad. What more can I do?

Robb and Jon arrived just before lunch time, without Theon Greyjoy who, at the last minute had accepted an invitation from his older sister to spend the holidays onboard her yacht sailing around the Summer Isles. Robb, as Sansa had predicted, had cornered her during a quiet moment after the family had taken lunch, and asked her to fill him in on her latest news.

Her brother had smiled after hearing her abridged version of events. "See? Didn't I tell you that Sandor had a thing for you?"

"You were right," Sansa acknowledged.

"You look happy," Robb observed.

"I am." Sansa smiled back at him.


Jon

"Who wants to bask in my wondrous male sexiness?" Jon asked a grinning Arya.
"Gossip Spyder does," she informed him.

"Does it really say that?"

"See for yourself." Arya showed him her phone.

Jon shook his head. "Robb will get such a kick out of that."

Their entire family was currently preparing to go to the Tyrell mansion and Arya had come into his room to watch him get ready.

"Are you really going to wear that?" she asked him, "it looks identical to the blue shirt you were wearing earlier."

"It does not." Jon pointed to his collar. "Narrower collar, see? Besides, when did you care about what I wore?"

"Don't get me wrong." Arya blinked innocently. "It wasn't a question of fashion, it was a question of hygiene and whether you even bothered to change your clothes because no amount of wondrous male sexiness will cover up sweaty, stinky pits!"

"Cheeky."

Jon balled up a shirt and threw it at her, the sweaty used one that she had accused him of still wearing. Arya laughed as she dodged it, screwing up her nose when she realised which shirt it was.

"Gross!"
Arya was also wearing jeans, paired with a cream colored sweater and black boots. She looked like his little sister, and at the same time she was not as he last remembered her, though he'd only seen her a month before. He knew about her boyfriend, Jaqen H'ghar, and while he had about a hundred different thoughts on the matter, both positive and negative, he chose to say nothing.

He was about fourteen when he had first started dating, the same age as Arya, and he was not about to become a hypocrite on this issue. She was growing up, and it wasn't up to him to say how she should go about doing so.

"I heard the news about Gendry," he said as he attempted to drag a comb through his tangle of black hair, "what's happening with the two of you? Are you friends again? Do you know how he's been handling the attention?"

The smile slipped from his sister's face, and immediately Jon knew that something was troubling her.

"It's complicated."

Jon turned to face her. "We can talk about it later, if you want."

"Yeah," Arya said, "I'd like that."


Arya

It had taken her along time to decide whether or not she would call Gendry. Even after she had gotten off the phone with Jaqen, she had still debated her decision, especially after Jaqen had once again told her to give Gendry some space.

"It appears there is another girl Gendry is getting close to. This is a good sign, yes? I believe you should allow that girl the chance to become the support he needs, don't you think so?"

"I'm not sure," Arya had said, "he doesn't really know her."

"He didn't know you at the beginning either," Jaqen had countered, "leave him be, Arya. Let him open his heart to someone else."

However, at fifteen minutes to midnight, her willpower had broken and she'd given in to the urge to call him. Learning that he was okay and listening to the calmness of his voice had settled the concern she'd been feeling all day. Having his voice be the last she heard for the night had made her dream of him again, and even though she had woken up that morning feeling flustered, she had not regretted making that call.

The entire Stark clan had arrived at La Maison des Fleurs at six-thirty that evening, and apart from a meaningful glance shared between the adults, there had been no talk of the recorded audio or of Gendry Waters.

La Maison des Fleurs was an opulent French, belle epoch style mansion that boasted wrought iron artistry, white marble and gold-leaf accents in abundance. There was a strong flower theme carried throughout the house, from the delicate rose and vine patterns in the wrought iron stair and balcony railings, to the roses moulded into the ceilings and even in the pale green and gold carpeting in the dining room, where a decadent seven course meal had been served.

After dinner, everyone retreated to a grand salon, where a twelve feet tall Christmas tree dripping with crystal ornaments and lights took pride of place in the centre of the room. The adults gathered around discussing politics, business and mutual acquaintances, while Bran discussed the meaning of existentialism with Willas and Jon. Robb spoke about girls with Garlan, while Loras entertained Rickon by playing games with him on his tablet. Arya sat there watching it all in bored silence, until she noticed that Sansa and Margaery were watching her.

"Grandma, I'm just going to show Sansa and Arya my closet. Please excuse us for a little while." Margaery stood up from her seat and indicated that the sisters follow her.

Olenna merely waved a wrinkled hand carelessly in response. Without little choice, Arya followed her sister and Margaery out of the salon, up the ornate marble staircase and headed towards the eastern wing of the mansion. It appeared that Margaery had commandeered a suite of rooms that included not only a lavish bedroom, but also a sitting room, a study, en-suite bathroom and a walk-in closet that was nearly as large as her bedroom, filled to the brim with designer clothes and accessories.

"Oh, gosh..." Sansa gushed in awe.

Arya, who was not easily impressed by such things, had to agree. There was a mirror covering an entire wall, surrounded by flattering lighting and a circular ottoman in the centre of the room. Margaery had a library of designer shoes, with floor to ceiling shelves filled with shoes arranged by color and heel height. There was even a ladder on a rail that allowed Margaery to access the shoes on the highest shelves. There were rows and rows of designer gowns and casual outfits, and display cabinets full of handbags and jewellery. In a dressing room adjacent to the closet, there was a dressing table surrounded by professional looking cases of exclusive makeup and skincare products. Arya could see Sansa practically drooling, and while her sister's closet was nothing to scoff at, Margaery's was on a whole other level.

"I am quite proud of my collection," Margaery said, "but, I didn't bring you here to look at my clothes, Arya."

Arya's eyes narrowed. "Then, why did you bring me here?"

Margaery's expression softened, and took on an almost pleading look. "Sansa tells me that you're pretty close to Gendry Waters."

Arya shot her sister a glare. "What about him?"

"Look, Arya," Margaery began, "my grandmother would like to meet with him, in private, so that she can speak to him directly about what has happened."

Arya's protective instincts kicked into gear. "What are you asking me to do exactly?"

"If you could convince him to meet my grandmother, we would greatly appreciate your help, and I would be in your debt."

"How come you're the one asking me?"

"Grandma doesn't know I'm asking for your help. She plans on seeking him out after the holidays, but you've seen how straightforward she can be. I'm afraid Gendry won't agree without some encouragement."

"And why would I encourage him? What benefit is there for him?"

"He needs to know that we had no part in this. It truly was just an accident. He needs to hear it from my grandmother's own mouth." Margaery explained.

"Please, Arya." Sansa came to stand next to her. "I tried talking to him, but I didn't get far. He just asked me to give him Margaery's number and pretty much said 'don't call me, I'll call you'."

"Then why push him?" Arya wondered, "I spoke to him last night and he said that he and his family were fine. Why rock the boat?"

"We don't want to cause further problems," Margaery quickly pointed out, "we want him to know that as Robert Baratheon's son, he has the support of the Tyrell family. We want him and his foster-family to know that my grandmother's comments were not intended to harm him or cause him any offense in the slightest."

"You know, you're really good at twisting people's arms." Arya regarded Margaery shrewdly.

Margaery smiled. "I prefer to call it diplomacy."

Arya sighed. "Look, I can't make him do anything he doesn't want to, so don't get your hopes up. I can try, that's all."

"That's all I'm asking," Margaery said, "thanks, Arya."


25th December


Gossip Spyder

Merry Christmas Everyone!

May you all have a wonderful day filled with love, laughter and festive cheer!

However, please do not forget about the many people out there who may not be celebrating Christmas like the rest of us. If you only do one kind deed this year, please make today be the day you carry it out – Donate food and warm clothing to shelters throughout the city, extend a hand to the lonely neighbor next door, or even pick up the phone and call someone you haven't spoken to in a long time and wish them a Merry Christmas. Today, of all days, every little act of kindness counts!

Ho! Ho! Ho!

Gossip Spyder


Sandor

Fuck you, Gregor! Sandor wanted to shout. His monstrous brother had been home less than twenty-four hours and he had already consumed all the food that their housekeeper had prepared for them. Damn you to hell! I hope you die and may the maggots feast on your overfed corpse!

Except he said none of those things. Instead, he grabbed his keys and his jacket and left the house, hoping that he could find any place that was open so he could get something decent to eat.

Merry fucking Christmas.


Arya

There was one more gift that remained on her desk. The rest had been distributed among her family that morning along with the other presents that had sat beneath the Christmas tree in the living room. Jaqen's present, a special order she'd requested from an artisan she'd come across online, had been couriered to him the day before.

The gift contained in the small blue box that sat on her desk had been an impulse purchase, and she didn't know if the intended recipient would accept it. She'd made sure not to pick anything expensive either, so that there was one less reason to turn it down. In any case, it wasn't going to be delivered that day.


Gendry

Tobho had a surprise for them that day. It was something Gendry had not been expecting at all.

"I'm going to resign from Baratheon Inc." Tobho had declared. "I'm going to start my own metal craft and fabrication company. Or rather, I'm going to buy an existing business from this old fellow who was hoping to retire soon, and I'm finally going to do something I've wanted to do for a long time."

"Seriously?" Gendry was pleased to see Tobho looking so happy.

"That's awesome, Dad!" Toby had exclaimed, "You're like, gonna be CEO of your own company?"

"Something like that," Tobho had laughed. "Your mother and I have spoken to our bank manager, and everything is in order. As soon as the paperwork goes through, and we hope that will happen before February, we'll be the new proprietors of Steel Street Fabricators Pty Ltd."

Gendry shook his foster-father's hand enthusiastically. "Congratulations! That's fantastic news! If you need an extra hand with anything, I'm happy to volunteer."

"That's a kind offer, Gendry. I might just put you to work."

"Nonsense, Tobho," Ellen scolded him, "he has school and his band, he won't have time to go playing with hammers and anvils."

"He could be good at it," Tobho said, "look at those arms of his."

"Yeah." Gendry lifted his arms and flexed his muscles. "I got good grades in Metalworks class."

"Fine," Ellen said with a resigned sigh, "do what you want, just make sure your grades don't slip."

Ellen poured fresh glasses of juice for the kids and set out champagne glasses for herself, Tobho and Gendry. Gendry raised a brow when Ellen actually poured champagne into his glass and not juice like Toby and Tabitha.

"Just this once because it's a special occasion," Ellen said when she noticed Gendry's suspicious gaze. She raised her glass and encouraged them all to do the same. "Merry Christmas to us!"

Later when Gendry had returned to his room to put away the gifts he had received, he spied the little gift box on his table that wasn't going to be presented to its intended recipient. Opening the desk drawer, he put the little box inside amidst pens and school documents, and closed the drawer.


Sansa

She had a plan, of sorts. She wanted to do something for Sandor, but she knew that it couldn't be anything grandiose or expensive because Sandor didn't appreciate such gestures. She didn't have much time, and if she was going to carry it out then she needed to move before her family began to ask too many questions. She also needed help, and an alibi.

"Robb...oh, Robb," she cooed, "dearest big brother of mine whose wondrous male sexiness is beyond compare."

Robb gave her a funny look, eyebrows raised, the same look he'd worn when he'd first read the description in Gossip Spyder's post.

"What do you want, Sansa?" he asked, his tone full of suspicion.

"I need a favor, and one hour of your time..." Sansa explained her plan to him briefly, "and because it's Christmas, you can't say no."

Robb sighed. "Fine. Call him, and I'll get the car ready."

Sansa dialled Sandor as her brother went to get his keys.

"Hey," Sandor answered the phone on the third ring, "what's up?"

"Hi," Sansa said in a low murmur, "listen, can you meet me at Godswood Park in about twenty minutes?"

"Yeah," he replied, no questions asked. "Yes, of course. I'll meet you at the parking lot."

Sansa found Robb waiting for her in the foyer downstairs.

"I told mother and father that we're going for a short drive. Let's go."

"Just a minute," Sansa said, and dashed towards the kitchens.

She returned after the said minute, carrying a big basket covered with a Christmassy red cloth.

"Wow," Robb said as he eyed the basket, "Chef Martin really came through, didn't he?"

"He's the best!" Sansa agreed. "Now, let's go."

Sandor was already in the parking lot when they reached Godswood Park. Sansa and Robb got out of the car and Sansa re-introduced her brother to her boyfriend.

"We've met before," Robb said to him, "but this time, I can really say it's good to meet you. Sansa's told me a lot about you."

Sansa felt a sense of relief to see that her brother genuinely seemed to like her boyfriend.

"Good to meet you, too." Sandor shook Robb's hand.

"I'm gonna go and make myself scarce for a while," Robb said, "I'll be back in half an hour, Sansa."

When Robb had driven away, Sandor looked at the heavy looking basket that Sansa had placed on the ground by her feet.

"What's that?" he asked her.

"It's for you," she replied.

"Another present? But, you already got me something," he said, "which, I still haven't opened."

"Why not?" she frowned.

"I didn't get a chance to," he shrugged, "Gregor pissed me off so I left the house."

"What did he do?" Sansa asked, suddenly concerned.

"The gigantic asshole ate all the food at home. Two days worth of food that was meant for both of us."

Sansa beamed. "Then you're going to love what's in the basket. Go on, take a look."

Sandor bent down and pulled back the cloth covering it, and was immediately assailed with the scent of roast beef, freshly baked bread, herbs and something sugary. He looked up at her.

"Did you read my mind? How did you know I wanted food?"

"You're always hungry, isn't that what you said?" Sansa grinned at him, pleased with his reaction. "I wanted to bring a little bit of Christmas to you, and food was the only way I knew how."

"Sansa Clause delivered." Sandor's mouth lifted at the corner.

"Sansa Clause, huh?" Sansa wrinkled her nose.

Sandor engulfed her in his arms then, crushing her into his chest. "Little bird, little bird, little bird! You're fucking amazing, did you know that?"

Sansa laughed. "I helped our chef to pack the basket and I put things in there that I thought you would like. We didn't have mashed potatoes, but there's baked baby potatoes with truffle aioli. I hope that's okay? There's enough food in there to feed four teenage boys, so that should take you through till tomorrow morning."

"Thank you," he rasped, and then he kissed her, right there in full public view of anyone who cared to look.

Sansa pulled away first, smiling. "Come on, put the basket in your car and let's go for a walk. I want to make out some more before my brother comes back."

Sandor did as she said, and while he was securing the basket into the passenger seat, Sansa heard him chuckling to himself.

"Merry fucking Christmas indeed."


Jaqen

He had written her a song. One he actually meant for her to hear, this time. As he sat at the baby grand piano in his uncle's music room singing it for her over a video call, he couldn't help but feel a self-consciousness he normally didn't experience when performing. But then again, he had never gifted a song to a girl before, never put together lyrics and melody that only her ears would ever hear.

The whole world was my stage

Until it turned into my cage

It was you who set me free

And only then could a man see

That you were a she-wolf in disguise

And the silver in your eyes

Stripped away the faces that I wear

Until all that I am had been laid bare

Other men's names may cross your lips

But I'll ask one thing and I must insist

That mine be the last name on your list...

Jaqen finished the song with a lingering strisciando on the piano keys, and only when the final note had faded did Arya clap and cheer.

"That was for me?" she asked, eyes huge with wonder. "Jaqen, that was amazing!"

"A girl likes it, truly?"

"Truly!"

Jaqen smiled. "A man is so very happy to hear that."

"Have you recorded it?"

"Not yet," he replied, "but I shall, now that I know you approve of it."

"As if I would ever say that I didn't like something that you wrote for me."

"Well." Jaqen managed to look embarrassed. "There was that one time, remember? 'Arya, how are ya, I'd like to get to know ya...'."

Arya burst into laughter. "How could I forget that!"

"I am glad to have finally redeemed myself with this new song for you." He took in the sight of her still laughing face. "I shall record it and give you a copy soon."

"Thank you," Arya said, "I love it. It really is a beautiful song."

"Not half as beautiful as you,"

"Jaqen..."

"Yes, yes," he laughed, "too much cheese, I know. But, it's true...I really would like to see you today."

"You'll see me in two days," she reminded him.

"Two days too long,"

She sighed, before she changed the subject. "I see you're wearing the gift I got you."

Jaqen pulled back the sleeve on his left arm and held it up to the tablet screen so that Arya could get a better view of the leather wrist cuff that adorned his forearm. The leather cuff was stained a deep wine-red, made of a 2-inch wide band that sat flush on his skin with two narrower bands of leather that wrapped around it, fastened with two silver buckles. Embossed into the two leather bands were Latin phrases that Jaqen regarded as a kind of motto. Omnes homines decedere debent. Omnes homines servire debent.

"It is brilliant," Jaqen said, "and just my style too."

"I looked up what those phrases meant, but I don't really understand what it's trying to say," she said, "I saw a sticker on your guitar case with these words on them, and I saw the same words on a poster in your room. I thought it probably meant something to you."

"It means all men must die, all men must serve. I do not know who first uttered these words but to me, it is a reminder that I am merely human and I only have a finite number of years on this planet, so I need to make sure that I do something meaningful with the years I am given. I am sure it perhaps has religious origins, but the only god I serve is Fate."

"That's somewhat profound," Arya commented, "I'm glad I took the risk when I asked the crafstman to inscribe those words in."

"I shall wear it always," Jaqen told her.

There was an interruption at Arya's end, and she briefly looked away from the screen to talk to someone out of his sight.

"Sorry Jaqen, I have to go. My mother is calling for me. Wish your aunt and uncle Merry Christmas for me, okay?"

"You too, lovely girl. Merry Christmas."

The screen blacked out, and Jaqen closed the lid on the piano before heading back into the house to join his aunt and uncle and the guests that they had invited to join them for Christmas. Sometimes they were musicians travelling through town, and sometimes they were suppliers that his uncle did business with. Each Christmas, his aunt and uncle would open their home to anyone needing a home to belong to for the day. Most of time, the people who came to visit them were expats like themselves who were looking for a little taste of the Christmases they had known in Germany, usually found in the dishes that Umma served up. He walked in to hear the living room abuzz with chatter in his native tongue.

"Ah. My boy," Jaqen's uncle called out to him, "come here a moment please."

Jaqen obediently walked over to join his uncle, who was currently speaking with a tall and thin man dressed in a red sweater. The man had milky white skin and a shaven head and lips so thin he appeared to have none at all. He had not met this man before, and Jaqen smiled at him politely. Uncle Otto took hold of his elbow quite excitedly, and with a beaming smile, Uncle Otto presented him to the man.

"I would like you to meet my nephew Jaqen H'ghar."

The man held out pale hand for Jaqen to shake, and when he spoke, his voice came out high pitched.

"I have heard a lot about you Jaqen H'ghar," the man said, "I have also heard your music. You are a very talented young man."

"Thank you." Jaqen nodded graciously. "However, I did not catch your name."

"I am called Benero, and I am here to offer you a contract."

"What kind of contract?" Jaqen asked. "And with whom?"

"A recording contract of course," Benero replied, "with Red God Records."