A/N: YAY! It's Sunday! I can't wait for a new episode of Game of Th-...wait. Oh fuc...

Sansa stared at the direwolf bracelet, her eyes wide with wonder. She fingered each charm, whispering the direwolf's name, until she came to Lady. A small gasp escaped her as she raised Arya's wrist to her eyes.

"Lady," she whispered.

"They are all there, all six," Arya said low.

"It is absolutely beautiful. He made this for you?"

"Yes." Arya smiled, pride swelling within her.

The two girls laid in Arya's bed, huddled up to one another. Their faces were inches apart as they whispered their words. Both had cried until they could cry no more. Now, they were exhausted and spent, choosing to tell each other of what had been happening since they took the ill-fated trip to King's Landing. Arya had hung on every word that dropped from her sister's mouth, realizing how much she had missed the sweetness of her voice. Still, Sansa had changed quite a bit. When she talked of Joffrey's murder, the girl actually smiled. It was something that Arya would do herself. Gone was her sweet, innocent sister.

"I am no longer made of silk, Arya, but of strong steel," Sansa whispered.

Arya reached her hand out, smoothing her sister's dark curls back. She saw the sadness in her eyes, saw the innocence that was lost.

"I'm so sorry," Arya responded.

"I'm not. I grew up and learned the world is not what I thought it to be. I—I'm better for it," she said, stuttering.

"You deserve better than Joffrey. You deserve a true knight, someone that will take care of you. I'm glad he's dead."

Sansa smiled a sad smile, closing her eyes for a moment. No words were spoken for what seemed like eternity. Arya was content to just watch her sister.

"There was someone, though it would be someone you wouldn't expect. It is someone I would never have expected," she said, chuckling softly. "I don't really know how it happened, how my feelings grew, but one day I woke up to realize that my heart had softened towards him. By the time the realization hit me, it was too late and he was gone. I—I don't even know where he is," Sansa said, her eyes growing distant.

"Who is he?"

Sansa did not answer at first. She looked away from Arya's stare, her cheeks growing red. "I'm afraid to tell you, for I know how you will react."

"I'm getting married tomorrow! You aren't the only one who has changed. Remember when I said I would never marry? Look at me now."

Her sister took a long, deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "Promise you won't laugh...or be angry?"

"I promise!"

"His name is Sandor Cleagan, but you know him as The Hound," Sansa said so soft that Arya almost missed it. The moment the words made sense in Arya's head, she had wished she had heard Sansa wrong. The breath was knocked from her body. The color drained from her face. The memory of that man, and what she had done to him, floated to her mind and she jumped from the bed in a hurry, desperate to hide from Sansa's eyes.

"Arya?" her sister called to her.

How could she possibly even begin to tell her what she had done? How was she to look in Sansa's face and tell the girl that the man she had fallen in love with was dead because of her? Arya felt like running from the tent. She felt like running and not stopping until she was far from this place.

"You promised you wouldn't be angry!" Sansa cried.

"I am not angry," Arya whispered, her back still turned to the girl.

Sansa climbed from the bed, grabbing Arya's shoulders and gently turning her around. Arya's face looked as miserable as she felt.

"Hey," Sansa soothed, quietly. "You are supposed to be happy on the night before your wedding! Forget I said anything, okay."

"You don't understand, Sansa," Arya said, tears blurring her vision.

"Then help me to," she answered, sitting back on the bed. She kept Arya's hands in her own as she looked up waiting for her to speak. "Tell me what has you so upset."

There was no way out of it. Sansa deserved the truth, deserved to hear what she had done. She deserved to know that because of her, she would never have her knight back.

"Years ago, I left this place in search of mother and Robb. I was there when the Red Wedding took place, Sansa." Her sister visibly flinched at this, but Arya pushed through and continued. "I escaped, just barely, but I did. I ran into The Hou—Sandor Cleagon. He kept me for ransom, thinking he could take me to the Vale. I—I..."

"He was coming to the Vale?" Sansa gasped. "He was that close to seeing me again?" Her eyes went wide, only making it that much harder for Arya to speak the truth.

"He would have never made it," Arya said, her chin trembling.

"Why?"

"We ended up at an inn and he got into a fight with some men there. He was wounded pretty badly. I took care of him for days, but the wound was enough to..."

Sansa slammed her eyes shut, her face crumbling in pain. Arya averted her eyes, not able to watch what her choices were doing to her sister. Though her and Sansa had had their share of rough times, seeing her pain killed a piece of Arya.

"D—Did he die? Did you stay with him until the end?" her sister whispered.

"No," Arya breathed, the first tears falling from her eyes. "I left him there to die alone. I had lost everything. I was broken in every way a person was broken, and I was eat up with rage. My rage and hatred towards him allowed me the strength to walk away when I could have helped him."

The moment the words were out in the open, the air inside the tent deflated. Arya felt a cold draft seep in around her, causing her to shiver. Sansa just stared at her, her eyes big and round. Tears floated to the surface, swimming before Arya to see. Her mouth hung open slightly, yet her chest did not move with air.

"You left him to die? He was still alive and you left him?" she said, her eyes growing wider.

Arya turned away from her sister, walking to the other side of the tent. She could not take that look, the one that accused her of crushing her sister's heart. "I'm so sorry," Arya pleaded.

It was a long time before another word was spoken. Both girls were trapped in their misery, in their pain. Arya heard Sansa rise from the bed, but she refused to turn around to face the girl. She expected her to walk out, never to speak to her again, but suddenly she felt hands pull her around. Sansa's face was covered with tears, yet she did not look mad. Before Arya could think, her sister wrapped her arms around her, holding her tight. Arya grabbed her sister, crushing the girl to her.

"You don't hate me?"

Sansa shook her head no. "We have lost too much to hate one another, Arya. Maybe the girl that I used to be would hate you, but the girl I am now desperately needs her sister. Whatever wrong you did against me by leaving him to die does not change how much I love you."

Arya cried out at her sister's words, tightening her hold. She would not have dared hoped for Sansa to take the news this way. It was the first time that Arya could remember hearing her sister say that she loved her.

"Besides, if he did not die in front of you, I dare say he is not dead at all," Sansa sniffed, chuckling.

Arya joined in. "You might just be right."

Arya leaned back, looking into her sister's face. The girl still held pain, yet she held hope as well. Arya could not believe it, but she hoped that The Hound was alive as well. Somewhere out there, he could possibly be waiting to return to Sansa. "He loved you too, you know. When I nursed his injuries, he called out your name. It gave him comfort to think I was you."

Sansa closed her eyes for a moment, hearing Arya's words. "Good," she whispered. "Now, let us get you back in bed! You have a big day tomorrow!"

Arya could see her sister trying to smile and ease the tension, but the pain still remained in her bright eyes. She tried to hide it, just as she always tried to hide her pain. It was no use though, Arya could see straight through her.

As the night grew late, the two sisters talked of lighter moments. They laughed about old memories past, of Winterfell and their parents' laughter. When horrible memories would rear its ugly head, the girls would grow quiet until one of them could lighten the mood with something funny Robb used to do, or something funny Jon would say. When tears pricked at their eyes, they would grab hands, fighting against the pain together.

Sansa was the first to drift off to sleep. Arya watched her for a moment, watching her beauty. She had always been the beautiful one, and no matter how much steel she became, she would forever be the beauty of them both. Even the dark hair color could not take that away from her. Even the old bruises could not take that away from her.

Suddenly, she heard something hit the flap of the tent. Arya's head shot up, looking towards where the sound came from. She listened for a few moments, but heard nothing else. Laying her head back down, she closed her eyes to try and get some sleep, but the sound was heard again. Her head shot up, her eyes squinting as she listened. Still, there was nothing else to hear. She sat up on the side of the bed, slowly, as to not wake Sansa. After a few moments, the sound was heard again.

Arya stood from the bed, slowly making her way towards the entrance of the tent. Her foot stepped on something hard and she bit her lip to keep from screaming out. Looking down, she noticed small pebbles littering the floor. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. Something whirled through the tent, hitting her on the arms.

"Ow!" she hissed loudly, not able to hold it in.

"Oh shit! Arya, I'm sorry."

"Gendry?" Arya seethed, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

A hand came through the flap of the tent, moving it just slightly. Gendry was standing with his back turned to her.

"What are you doing?" She asked him.

"It's bad luck to see you before the wedding."

Arya rolled her eyes, pushing passed the flap and going to stand before him. His eyes were shut tight. "That's just stupid," Arya said, chuckling.

"No, it's tradition."

She reached up, grabbing his face gently. He sighed at the touch of her. His mouth began to grow in a glorious smile, reminding her of what she would be waking up to for the rest of her life. Arya leaned in to him, softly touching his lips with hers. The moment she did that, his arms came around her, holding her closely to him. Gendry deepened the kiss, causing butterflies to flutter in Arya's stomach.

Gendry broke the kiss, leaning his cheek upon hers. He inhaled long and deep. "You still have your eyes closed, do you not?" she asked. "Yep!" he answered, popping his p.

"What if I told you I was wearing something naughty?" she whispered.

He groaned, clasping one hand over his eyes, while feeling down her side with the other. Arya slapped his hand away, laughing. "You will be the death of me, woman," Gendry said, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

She put her fingers over his lips to silence him. "Please, do not ever say that again," she pleaded. Gendry's eyes slid open. They looked at Arya, concern written on his face.

"Don't you know by now? It is not possible for someone that gives me such life to be the death of me, Arya." He lifted her hands up to his lips, kissing them gently. His eyes remained open and stared at her. "This time tomorrow, you will be my wife and I will be your husband. I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how alive you make me feel. Will you meet me tomorrow? Will you still be my forest lass?" he whispered.

Arya threw her arms around his neck, drinking in the scent of him, the scent that was forest and something that only spoke of Gendry. "Yes, I will meet you tomorrow and be your forest lass."

He kissed her once more, before turning to walk away. She watched him go, watched the shadows around him swallow him whole. Silence fell around her, and for a moment she listened to it grow. No longer did it drive her mad. No longer did she feel as though she were lost within its depths. For the first time since she could remember, she took comfort in the silence around her.

The next morning started with a frenzy of running women. From one side of the camp to the other, they fetched items here and there. Ayra sat on her bed, watching Sansa and Mya act as though it was their wedding. They fussed over how to do her hair and what she would wear. Arya just shook her head, laughing at the way they acted. She knew Gendry would not care how she wore her hair, or what she wore as a dress, though she realized she didn't have anything to wear. For a moment, she began to panic, but then she calmed down by reminding herself that Gendry would marry her in a cloth sack if that's what she wanted.

"Bathe! We need to bathe!" Sansa shrieked. "Calm down, there is a river near by," Arya said softly.

At once, the girls had her on her feet and pushed her out of the tent. They made sure to keep her out of eyesight of Gendry and the men, who were busy preparing a small area for the wedding. She could hear them hammering away, their laughter and talk floating to her ears. It made her smile. The girl's dove into the river, splashing and swimming with ease. For a moment, it felt as if it were a normal day. Even Sansa and Mya seemed to calm down. Arya dove underneath the water. A memory floated to the surface, a memory of the darkest part of her life, when she wanted to give in to her misery and pain.

She floated down as far as she could go, searching for something. When she righted herself, she kept afloat underneath the murky water, lost in the memory. It dawned on her what she was searching for. She had left Arya Stark underneath the water that day, never to be her again. But fate would have it otherwise. Gendry had found her again, had helped her to find the person she truly was. So this time, when she left Arya Stark underneath the water, it wasn't due to pain she could not handle. It was due to the fact that she would be his wife, she would be Mrs. Arya Waters. This time, she would not lose herself, but gain a happiness she thought was lost to her. When her lungs screamed for air, she did not fight against them, but pushed herself back to the surface. When she broke the surface of the water, Sansa and Mya did not seem to notice. Again, Arya could not help but smile.

When their bath was over, the girls hurried back to the tent. As soon as they walked in, they froze. Arya stared at her bed, her eyes growing wide. Something was laying across the sheets, and Arya felt her breath hitch. She pushed passed Sansa and Mya, standing before her bed. A piece of paper lay on the thing that held her attention, and Arya reached out to read it.

"Let's go back to the start. All my love...Gendry," Arya whispered.

There, lying before her on the bed, was an acorn dress. Arya picked the dress up, holding it to her chest as if it were the most precious thing to her. She could not help the bubble of laughter that broke through her mouth, nor could she stop the tears in her eyes. It was absolutely amazing.

"It's an acorn dress," Sansa said, her words filled with disgust.

"It's perfect," Arya said softly.

She turned to the women, motioning for them to help her in it. Although they looked as if they didn't want to, they helped her anyway. The dress was different than the first acorn dress. This time, instead of real acorns, there was a acorn pattern sown into the material. From top to bottom, Arya was covered in the dreaded acorns, but this time, she felt like the most beautiful woman in Westeros. The dress signified everything that they almost let slip away. It was a reminder of the day they let everything shatter, yet it also was a reminder that a new beginning was possible. By Gendry giving her this dress to wear on their wedding day, he was letting her know that sometimes even shattered glass was fixable.

When the dress was on, the girls moved to Arya's long hair. They had taken grass from the forest, just as she had told them to, and began braiding her long tresses. It took them hours to finish, but the final result was breathtaking. Her hair was braided down her back, with ringlets shaped around her face. Arya had never felt beautiful, yet in that moment, that was all she could see. She. Was. Beautiful.

"He will be completely floored," Mya whispered to her.

"Knock, knock!" said Hot Pie.

He walked into the tent, and the moment he saw Arya, he froze in place. His eyes went wide, his mouth hanging open. "Arya?" he breathed. Suddenly, she felt self conscious. Perhaps she had went a little overboard. Maybe she should have kept it simple, like the acorn dress.

"You look stunning," He said, his eyes still wide.

Arya looked up at him sheepishly. She rolled her eyes, not used to so much attention. For a moment, she thought of going to Gendry and telling him to just have the wedding in the tent, just her and him, but she knew he had spent all day preparing the space for the wedding.

"Shut up," she said, half joking.

"No, Arya, I mean it. You really look stunning. Gendry is going to lose it when he sees you."

"You think so?" she asked shyly.

Hot Pie nodded his head. "I know so." He stepped towards her, his arm out for her to take. "Your escort awaits, m'lady."

Arya had asked Hot Pie days ago to take her down the aisle. Her father was not here to do the honor. At the thought of him, Arya felt a pang in the pit of her stomach. There would be only one Stark family member here to see her big day. She turned her eyes towards Sansa seeing the same sadness in the girl's eyes that she felt.

"They all would be proud of you," Sansa whispered.

With that, She reached over, giving Arya a kiss on the cheek. She walked out of the tent on the verge of tears. Mya hugged her neck, following her sister out. It just left her and Hot Pie.

"I wish Weasel was here to see this," he said softly.

Arya looked at him, laying her hand on his heart. "She is," she responded, pushing the words past the lump in her throat. "She is surrounding this day."

Hot Pie picked her hand up, kissing it lightly. "Yes, she is," he whispered.

As they walked out of the tent, Arya took a long breath to calm her nerves. The images of the Red Wedding decided at that moment to make an appearance in her head. As soon as she took the first steps towards her own wedding, she saw the gruesome sight of the Great Room. She saw the dead at her feet, the wall written in blood. Arya slammed her eyes closed, staggering to a stop. Her worst fears were coming true. Her memories were outshining her happiness, drowning her in blood.

"Arya?" Hot Pie called to her worriedly.

His voice was but a whisper amongst the screams she could hear. Her brother stood before her, his head missing. Her mother was there, a slash in her throat. Arya gasped and moaned, trying to push the images aside, trying to find Gendry in her mind, but they were too strong. The same thing would happen to her wedding. She and everyone present would be swept away in death, she could just feel it.

"Arya, talk to me!" Hot Pie said, loudly.

She could not talk, but could only take a step back. She moved away from him towards the tent. They were all coming towards her, all the men she saw die that day. Their hands were outstretched trying to touch her. She needed to run, needed to get as far away from the Twins as she could.

Suddenly, something broke through the images before her. It was a smell. It smelled of forest and something that spoke just of Gendry. A hand softly touched her face, as strong arms went around her waist. All at once, she felt protected, felt love. The images of the day at the Twins began to melt away. Arya slowly opened her eyes, looking into blue eyes, as blue as the ocean from which she knew they were made. Gendry was there before her, holding her tightly to him.

"I remember the first time I saw you. I daresay that I loved you even then," he whispered to her, calming her more. "I have never met anyone like you. You...take...my...breath...away."

It was in that moment when the fear and horror let her go. Gendry was here, and he always made it better. He never looked away from her, even when she sighed, signaling that the images had let up their hold on her.

"Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife today, Arya?"

She nodded her head yes. With that, Gendry turned them towards Thoros, who would be marrying them today. All eyes were on her, yet she could not find it in her to care. All she knew was the smell of the man beside her. All she knew was the strong arms that surrounded her. All she knew was that today she would become his wife. Instead of Hot Pie taking her down the aisle, it was Gendry. Side by side, they walked to meet Thoros.

Arya and Gendry turned to look at each other, never letting their hands go. He looked down at her wrist, thumbing the direwolf bracelet. A small smile played upon his lips. Arya was able to get a good look at him. He stood before her in a white, crisp shirt. He wore black pants, bringing out the white of his shirt even more. His blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight, as his hair, as deep as midnight, was combed from his forehead. She had never seen him look more handsome than he did in that moment.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, as if reading her thoughts.

Thoros began the ceremony with words of love and devotion. Half of what he said, Arya missed, for her thoughts and attention were solely on Gendry. Nothing seemed to exist outside of his face.

"I, Gendry Waters, promise to take you, Arya Stark, as my wife. From this day forward, I will hold only unto you, loving and protecting all that you are. You are my life, my love and my best friend. No one will come before you in my life. It will always and forever be you and me," he said softly.

"I, Arya Stark, promise to take you, Gendry Waters, as my husband. From this day forward, I will hold only unto you, loving and protecting all that you are. You are my life, my love and my best friend. No one will come before you in my life. It will always and forever be you and me," she whispered, not able to speak any louder. She cursed the tears in her eyes, cursed her weakness, but seeing Gendry's smile made it as though it didn't matter.

He picked her hand up, and on her ring finger he placed a simple gold band. Arya's head shot up, her eyes growing wide. "I stayed up all last night making it for you," he whispered. She felt horrible, for she had nothing to give him in return. She should have known he would have come prepared, as he was always the logical one. He placed a matching gold band in her hand quickly, winking. Arya rolled her eyes, laughing softly, yet she picked his hand up and placed the ring on his ring finger.

"By the power placed upon, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Gendry, you may kiss your bride," Thoros said happily.

With a shout of excitement, Gendry picked Arya up in his arms, crushing his lips to hers. Around them, the men began to shout and yell their congratulations. Gendry and Arya ignored them as they deepened the kiss. He twirled her around as she laughed against his lips.

"My wife," he whispered.

"Always."

The reception started with dancing and music. The men soaked up the excitement and happiness, for it had been forever since they had something to celebrate. Tom Sevenstrings provided the songs as everyone began to partner for a dance. At once, Gendry took Arya to the makeshift dance floor of soft grass.

"I can't dance," she said.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, as he took her hand in his other hand. "I won't let you fall," he whispered.

He leaned down, snuggling his nose into her neck as he began to twirl them around. Arya closed her eyes, putting her trust completely in him. He was true to his word, as she had did not fall once. She danced, until she could not dance any longer. She laughed, until she felt her lips would fall off. Was it possible that the bad was over? Could there truly be a happy ending after all?

"What are you thinking about?" he asked against her ear.

She didn't answer for a moment, too caught up in her emotions that had been running wild all day. Here she was, standing in Gendry's arms, in her husband's arms. Three years ago, something like this was impossible in her mind, yet she could not deny its existence. She felt overwhelmed, overwhelmed and grateful.

"I was just thinking how, even though I gave up on my father's gods and my mother's gods as well, they never gave up on me," she whispered.

His hold tightened. "They never gave up on me either."

Arya leaned back, staring at him. She reached up, touching his cheek lightly. "How will I ever begin to repay you for saving me in every way possible?"

Gendry laid his hand on top of the one touching his cheek. "Promise to always love me. We will start with that."

"You and me," she said, smiling.

"You and me."

Suddenly, they were surrounded by men. They grabbed Gendry from Arya, raising him above their heads. His laughter rang out, and Arya couldn't stop her laughter from joining his. They hoisted him around, singing songs of thanksgiving and joy. His men, men that pledged their life and loyalty to Gendry.

"It is time for the wedding night," Thoros announced. "Men, if you will take Gendry into his tent to ready him for his wife. Ladies, please do the same for Arya."

Arya, Sansa and Mya watched as they carried Gendry off in a chorus of shouts and yells. He was still hoisted above their heads, his laughter reaching Arya's ears and making her smile. Sansa looped her arm in Arya's, while Mya did the same on the other side.

"What? I do not get hoisted in the air like Gendry?" she said playfully.

"No. It is just for the men to congratulate themselves on being masters of the world," Sansa said, rolling her eyes.

"So, what happens now?"

"Now, we take you back to the tent to get you ready for your husband, Arya. The men will come to retrieve you when the time is right. They will bring you to Gendry and there, you will lay with him as husband and wife," Sansa answered softly.

The thought had Arya's cheeks burning. The butterflies fluttered in her stomach at the thought of lying with Gendry. He would be her first and only.

They entered the tent and the girls giggled as they talked of Arya going to her husband. "Shut up," she said, her cheeks burning brighter. They sat her on the bed as they began to take her hair down. It flowed down her back in curls from being braided with the grass. Arya heard the flap of the tent move, as someone entered. She was still laughing when she noticed the way Sansa and Mya looked towards the newcomer. Their smiles slowly slipped from their faces.

Arya turned at once, seeing someone watching them. He was dressed in all black, a large sword at his side. Arya felt the hair on the back of her neck rise on end. She stood from the bed, watching the familiar face, yet she could not place him yet.

"You made a beautiful bride, Arya. My apologies for watching from a distance, but your beauty was stunning even from afar."

His voice was deep, yet it triggered a memory in her mind. She was fifteen again, walking amongst the brotherhood. She had just torn the acorn dress from her body and branded more comfortable clothing. She was getting a look that could kill from the woman who had dressed her, and he had come out of nowhere. Arya's eyes went wide when his face floated to her mind. He was older, yet his long, blond hair and deep blue eyes, so deep they looked purple, had not changed.

"Edric Dayne?" she said, surprise in her voice.

"Hello, love," he said, smiling.

The smile caused her stomach to jump, but it was not the same feelings that Gendry caused within her. This feeling was foreboding. "What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to remain calm. Behind her, she could feel nervousness coming off Sansa and Mya in waves.

"I need the two ladies behind you to come to me, please."

Stall! Whatever you do, stall, she heard Gendry's voice whisper in her head.

Her sword was underneath her pillow, just a breath away from her. She shot a quick glance towards it, wondering if she could make it in time. If it was only her in the tent, she would have already reached for it, but with Sansa and Mya with her, she did not want them in harm's way. Arya desperately wished for the men to hurry to get her.

"Arya, we do not have much time, and my patience is not what it used to be," he said, low.

As quickly as she could, she dove for her pillow, grabbing the sword in her hand and raising towards Edric. He did not move, did not look as though he was concerned. That made Arya worry all the more. In the blink of an eye, as fast as she had ever seen anyone move, Edric's hand flew towards them. Something flew from his palm, something that sparkled in the candle light.

The substance struck Arya in the face, causing her to stumble forward, straight into Edric's arms. Her skin began to tingle. Her muscles began to tighten until she found it difficult to pull away from him. Behind her, she heard Sansa and Mya fall to the ground. She tried to turn her head, but her body would not cooperate with her. Gendry's voice exploded in her mind, telling her to fight. She could not so much as move a finger, much less fight.

"She will not be happy, but you are the next best thing. Besides, I have not stopped thinking about you for three years, Arya. You will be my prize to her, yet you will be mine," Edric whispered.

He caressed her cheek, lowing down to kiss her gently. Arya was completely paralyzed and could not stop it from happening. She could not even speak to scream for help. Whatever he had threw upon her had immobilized her.

"Do not worry, my love. The effects of the potion will wear off, but by that time, we will be far away from this place."

Arya was thrown over his right shoulder, the screaming from the Gendry in her head becoming louder. She was completely and utterly helpless. He jerked around, his black cloak flying about him. Arya was able to get a full view of the room. Sansa and Mya were lying on the floor, their wide and fearful eyes watching her. Tears streamed down her sister's face.

Edric stormed out of the tent. Arya was facing Gendry's tent. The men were just now making their way towards her. She tried to open her mouth, tried to scream at the men, but nothing would come out. She was forced to watch them silently. Their laughter floated to her eyes, Gendry's laughter. Suddenly, his face came in to view. Arya begged him to look at her, begged him to see what was happening. He was standing at the entrance of the tent, talking and laughing with his brother Edric.

"Help me," she was able to croak.

Edric Dayne sped up his walk, staying in the shadows. "Now, now, love...do not go and alert them to what is happening. You are stronger than even I imagined," he whispered.

A loud rustling sound could be heard in the direction they were walking, though Arya could not turn her head to look. She slammed her eyes shut, focusing all her strength to scream. She willed her mouth opened, willed her vocal cords to work. Her eyes flew open at the exact moment her mouth fell open.

"GENDRY!" she screamed with all the power she could muster.

The laughter ceased at once. The men turned their faces in the direction of where Edric Dayne was carrying her. Gendry tore through the men standing before him, for he had recognized her voice at once.

"Arya?" he called out.

The moon broke through the clouds, illuminating the space around them. Arya was staring straight at Gendry and he at her. His eyes grew wide as he saw her being carried away. Edric Dayne broke out in a sprint, leaving Gendry and his men behind them.

"ARYA!" Gendry howled.

She was thrown on the back of a large creature. It was as black as the night around her, and in her position, she could not make out what it was. Edric Dayne jumped on behind her, screaming for the beast to fly. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as long, black wings stretched out. The beast made a deafening scream as it rose itself on long legs.

"Arya!" Gendry screamed again.

She was lying on her stomach, but she was in a position to see Gendry and his men break through the line of trees. At once, each and every man stopped in their tracks, their eyes growing wide as their mouths hung open in shock.

"GO, DROGON, GO," he screamed at the beast.

Arya felt herself being lifted from the ground on the giant beast. But the beast was not finished with the men on the ground. He turned his body around, his mouth coming open in a loud scream. Gendry and his men covered their ears, some crying out in fear of what they were seeing. Arya and Gendry stared at one another, his face showing his helplessness. He could no more get to her than she could move a muscle.

Suddenly, Arya felt the heat of hot flames licking at her skin. Her eyes went wide, a scream piercing her heart as she watched the flames shoot towards the large trees in front of them. The men below were trapped as fire and large limbs rained down from above.

"NO! I SAID FLY!" Edric Dayne screamed, jerking the beast's head to the sky.

Gendry paid no attention to what was coming down around him, for his eyes were only on Arya. Her eyes shot away from him, watching as a good chunk of a tree was heading straight for him and the men around him. She tried to scream, tried to warn him, but her voice had stopped working completely. Arya was forced to watch as the large chunk of tree landed on Gendry and his men, smothering them in smoke and fire.

They flew further and further into the air on a beast she could not see, yet she could hear. Its shrieks were deafening, speaking of power and things she dared not think of. This was a dream, it had to be, for this was her wedding night. It was not supposed to be this way! She was supposed to be with Gendry as his wife, not flying higher and higher into the sky.

Yet, as the last of her strength faded from her body, and darkness taking her over, she could not get the image of the large chunk of tree falling down on top of her husband. There was no way Gendry and his men could have survived it.

As Arya gave in to the darkness, her heart full of agony, one question floated through her mind.

Where in the seven hells am I being taken to, and who awaits me this time?

A/N: Let the death threats begin again! LOL! Review people!