Redemption 15 - Storm's End

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Notes:

Arya's POV of her reunion with Gendry.

In writing this chapter I realize that as a Gendrya shipper I am still not over that fateful Season 8 Episode 4 of HBO "GoT". Mayhaps all the effusive prose here is meant to be cathartic.

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Previously:

Captain Saan returned the discussion to practical matters, "Storm's End is 480 miles from King's Landing, and after so long at sea I doubt that you and I are prepared for the hard riding that will require almost three weeks of traveling. Ser Davos has arranged for sufficient mounts for the three of us plus a supply horse to carry the food, sleeping furs, and oats for all the horses. We leave on the morrow, after we break our fast."

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Chapter 15 Storm's End

Leaving King's Landing to their backs, the travelers crossed the Blackwater Rush by ferry, calming their skittish horses, and followed the Kingsroad into the Kingswood. Arya marveled how dense the forest was, for once the party was within the canopy of the trees, the light became dim even under the morning sun and visibility was significantly reduced. After a few days on the road, Arya realized how unprepared she was for overland travel. Except for that glorious month on the grasslands of Americos, the Northern girl had not spent much time in the saddle in the past three years, and her muscles protested every time she dismounted. She woke up with soreness every morning during the first week of travel, and she felt pity for Captain Saan, who had spent little time on horseback in his life. Arya grinned at the old seaman and japed, "Mayhaps we should have engaged a wheelhouse for you." Salladhar glared at the wolf girl and snorted, piqued with her attack on his masculinity and made it a point not to complain about his discomfort.

When conversation faltered as they plodded along the Kingsroad, Arya reflected on the contents of the message that had arrived from Sansa just before she left King's Landing. Her sister wrote that she was relieved and overjoyed that Arya had returned safely from her dangerous journey. She hoped that her restless sister had found what she was looking for whilst traveling into the unknown and wondered if she would be content to linger in Westeros. Sansa begged Arya to visit Winterfell and regale her with stories of her adventures. The Queen of the North ended her letter with the most significant question: Now that you are home, what are your plans? Arya considered, I shall send Sansa a raven as soon as I arrive in Storm's End.

Arya also had the opportunity to ponder another unanticipated problem of a long overland journey. As a highborn maiden, she was unconsciously taken sleeping in a featherbed in a warm chamber for granted. The conditions in her cell at the House of Black and White were spare, but she still had a pallet indoors, and she slept in a berth in her cabin on Nymeria. The sleeping furs that Ser Davos provided were a nice touch, but they could not completely keep out all the cold nor cushion the hard ground. Later, when the party arrived at the Bronzegate, she was grateful for the use of a featherbed and the luxury of a hot bath. Arya had few opportunities for warm baths aboard Nymeria and heartily took advantage of the copper tub in her chamber at the Red Keep. On her voyage, her skin was constantly coated with salt crystals and she seldom felt comfortably clean whilst sailing, for even her leathers were stiff with salt. However, the adventurer recalled with a small smile sharing pleasant baths with Lanna at Greenwood Castle, and then putting on clean clothing.

After more than a week of monotonous traveling through the dark forest, the party finally crossed the Wendwater, and even the mundane sound of running water was welcomed after such a boring trip. Another week had almost past when the Kingswood began to thin out and they reached the castle of Bronzegate, the seat of House Buckler. Lord Ralph Buckler recognized Ser Davos, for the advisor to Lord Baratheon had visited his home several times over the years to discuss tithes and other issues. He was surprised to see what appeared to be a grizzled seafarer traveling with Ser Davos and wondered what his business might be so far inland. Then Lord Buckler's curiosity was piqued even more when he beheld the comely maiden attired in a soldier's leathers complete with wicked-looking blades. Ser Davos introduced the girl as Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell, the Princess of the North and brother to King Bran. Lord and Lady Buckler smiled at the opportunity to entertain such a noble personage until Ser Davos informed them that Lady Stark was an old friend of Lord Baratheon and was on her way to Storm's End to renew her acquaintance with him after an absence of several years. The lady in question tersely nodded agreement with his words.

The Bucklers were startled and tried their best not to reveal their disappointment as they formally welcomed Lady Stark to their castle, but Arya could not help but notice that Lady Buckler eyed her suspiciously. The woman was decidedly put out because on several occasions House Buckler had offered their eligible daughter, Desmera, as a wife for the polite and handsome young lord and been gently refused. She had also heard the rumors that Lord Baratheon had not wed already because he was pining for a lost love. Lady Buckler suspected that this beautiful, but unusual maiden was the missing lass, and now she had returned. As Ser Davos escorted the wolf princess down the rest of the introduction line, Lady Buckler whispered her thoughts to her husband and he solemnly nodded his head.

The Lady of the House finally motioned to her steward and the officious man announced that chambers had been prepared for the visitors and he would lead them to their quarters to freshen up before the feast. Arya had no chest, of course, and had traveled like a common sailor, her gear packed into the weather-beaten canvas duffle that had been thrown over her shoulder during the introductions, earning her quizzical glances from every castle resident. The adventurer found the confused faces before her to be most amusing.

Shown to her comfortable chambers, Arya threw her duffle down on the bed, just as two handmaidens entered behind her, curtseyed and introduced themselves as Hildy and Bess. Hildy stated that they had prepared a hot bath for her in her personal privy. The tired traveler smiled genuinely and gratefully at the servants, immediately kicking off her muddy boots, stripping off her soiled leathers, tossing them into a heap on the floor, and stepping into the tub with a sigh. Bess looked from the discarded clothing to the duffel on the bed and asked, "Milady, where is your chest?"

Arya ducked her head in the water to clean her face and then grinned, "I arrived here on horseback with only one change of clothing in my bag. My chests are still in King's Landing."

The young servant wrinkled her nose, "That does not sound very ladylike."

The she-wolf barked out a laugh, "I am not very ladylike."

Hildy had been carefully placing Arya's dangerous weapons on a shelf, making sure not to accidentally cut herself on the sharp blades. She concurred, "Aye, you do not seem very ladylike at all."

Bess was also the practical one and she proposed, "Milady, I believe we can find a gown and pair of slippers in Lady Desmera's closet that will fit you tonight, and your clothes and boots can be cleaned whilst you attend the feast. Does that meet your approval?"

Arya decided to be accommodating to the thoughtful servants and agreed to their plans, and even let them soap her clean in the scented bath, and wash and brush her hair also.

As the girls patted her dry in some of the softest towels Arya had felt in years, Bess ventured, "Milady, you are as muscular as a lad!"

"You are not far from the truth," Arya smirked, "but tell me, why do you know how muscular a lad is, Bess?" The girl blushed and remained silent after that remark.

Hildy, though, looked intrigued and commented with a questioning tone, "Milady, surely horseback riding alone could not have made you so strong."

Arya had decided to answer all questions truthfully on this stopover, so she replied, "Whilst most girls of my rank were learning embroidery and music, Hildy, I was training as a swordfighter."

The eyes of both handmaidens widened considerably and Bess volunteered, "The steward said that you recently returned from an oversea voyage with the ship's captain that also accompanied Ser Davos. You must lead an interesting life."

Arya smiled noncommittally, "You could say that, Bess," but chose not to elaborate. The girls, though, seemed to view her with added respect now as they helped her into dainty smallclothes, petticoats, and laced her into a lovely formal gown, and finally put delicate slippers on her feet. Bess offered to make up her face and Arya demurred at first. She allowed the handmaidens to brush out her hair, but requested that they leave it loose and not torture her with a stylish updo. Arya admired her unfamiliar visage in the looking glass and sincerely thanked the servants for all their efforts.

Hildy looked her up and down and "You may be a soldier, milady, but you are certainly a beautiful warrior."

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Captain Saan came to escort her to the feast, and after appraising her transformation, could not help repeating how exquisite she appeared. Ser Davos was also extremely impressed and both men constantly referred to her as 'Princess' during dinner and acted properly referential in deference to her rank. Arya tried to control her face and not scowl or make a scene when they behaved thusly.

Upon entering Bronzegate's Great Hall, Arya was relieved that there were not many other guests. Lord Buckler had wanted to exhibit the noble visitor, but only a few of his vassals lived close enough to come on a moment's notice. Once again Lord Buckler formally welcomed Lady Stark of Winterfell, proudly introducing her as the Princess of the North to his vassals. Seeking to be agreeable in gratitude for the hot bath and the featherbed she anticipated sleeping in if only for one night, Arya acted the part of a real princess and was polite, gracious, and ladylike in her conversation. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the approval on the faces of her two companions. However, Lady Buckler remained brusque with her, stung that her own lovely daughter has been passed over for this obvious hoyden. She spitefully thought, the upjumped smith desires Lady Arya solely for her relation to the King. But she grudgingly had to admit that even without much makeup or a complex hairdo, the maiden was stunningly beautiful and she could understand why Lord Baratheon had not entertained thoughts of a replacement for her.

As the dinner proceeded, Lady Desmera would cast a sour expression in Arya's direction, but she could not fault the Northerner's manner. Finally her curiosity got the better of her and she blurted, "Why are you going to Storm's End, Princess?"

Arya plainly answered, "Lord Baratheon and I are old friends and I have not seen him in some time." Seeing that young Lady Buckler still seemed to waiting for a more lengthy explanation, the wolf girl continued, "He was a smith before he became a lord, and he crafted a magnificent and unique weapon that enabled me to kill many wights during the Battle of the Long Night." All the guest appeared intrigued now, and Arya's eyes sparkled and she grinned mischievously, "I have never thanked him properly."

Lady Desmera was becoming absorbed in the traveler's story, having led a mostly boring, traditional life in her castle, and persisted, "How could you have come to know him, Princess? You are a highborn lady of the North and Lord Baratheon was originally a Flea Bottom bastard!"

Arya heard the emphasis on the word 'bastard' in her comment and chose to ignore the implied insult to her friend. Instead, she smiled and bared her teeth slightly, deciding that she didn't mind talking about her past now, even if she shocked those listening. "We accidentally met as children long ago," Arya intoned, remembering a girl called 'Arry' and later 'Weasel', "but we had something in common; Queen Cersei wanted us both dead."

A collective gasp was heard around the table, and Arya realized that she could not stop now. She suspected that even Captain Saan, who was being most attentive, did not know this story, though Ser Davos might have heard it from Gendry. The wolf princess was quite relaxed after her bath, for the thoughtful maester had given her handmaidens a handful of herbs to add to the hot water that would help to soothe her sore inner thigh and lower back muscles. The small amount of Dornish red wine she had allowed herself to partake of was mellowing her mood and loosening her tongue. Arya acknowledged that she had not reflected on those horrible experiences in some time and considered that unburdening herself to complete strangers would be cathartic. Glancing around the Hall, she observed that all eyes were upon her, especially the eyes of admiring men. Her handmaidens had taken pride in their work, and had cajoled the unpretentious maiden to allow them to add just a little pink lipstick to her full lips and just a little kohl around her eyes to accentuate her severe dark eyebrows. When they were done, the servants beamed at her, "There! No man will be able to take their eyes off of you!" Gazing around the table, it appeared that Hildy and Bess had been correct.

"Following my lord father's murder by the Lannisters," Arya continued, "we had both been rescued out of King's Landing by a recruiter for the Night's Watch, who had been informed to find and protect us. Our party traveled north on the kingsroad until we were intercepted by Goldcloaks under the orders of the queen, and those cruel soldiers butchered many of us, including our leader. Lord Baratheon was called Gendry Waters at that time, an apprentice blacksmith, and had no idea that he was the son of King Robert. Queen Cersei had learned of his existence and was systematically killing all of Robert's bloodline. She had wanted me for a hostage, but I had escaped the Red Keep. She held my sister prisoner and most thought me to be dead." Now Arya's smile was toothy and feral, "I am not that easy to kill."

There was much murmuring upon hearing these revelations, and the she-wolf possessed a rapt audience.

"Lannister soldiers bound us in chains and escorted the survivors of the massacre to Harrenhal where we were pressed into service. Gendry was sent to the forge to repair weapons and I became a kitchen scullion, beaten and kicked frequently if I did not move quickly enough or questioned an order."

One of the ladies present blushed and timidly interjected, "My lady, were you, er, violated?"

"Nae, I was but a skinny child at the time. I wore muddy breeches and a tunic, and my hair was short and badly trimmed. I passed as a dirty boy for much of my travels. It was a useful disguise for several years."

"Several years!" someone choked.

"Aye, I was forced to evade the Lannisters and their allies for some time. Gendry Waters was my companion during much of that period and we protected each other and shared any food we were lucky enough to forage. I won't describe the bloodshed involved in our eventual escape, but Gendry and I managed to dodge certain death in that hellish castle." She stopped and smiled bitterly, "You know you are starving and desperate when a wormy crab apple tastes delicious." There was a pause as the well-fed highborns around the table considered this statement. "We made our way into the Riverlands, where we were captured by the Brothers without Banners, an outlaw band that strangely enough became our protectors once they learned my identity. It was Lord Beric Dondarrion of the Stormlands, their leader, who knighted Ser Gendry. Eventually, I foolishly allowed myself to be captured by the clever Hound, who intended to ransom me for gold, but I escaped his clutches when he was wounded during a skirmish and then I took ship to Braavos where I acquired my swordfighting skills."

"Princess," one lordling enquired, "I helped hold Storm's End against the Tyrells and did not fight in the North. Tis said that you personally delivered the death blow to the Night King and ended the great battle."

Men usually wore ornamental swords to dinner, and Arya was loath to go anywhere without at least one ready weapon, so she now pulled Cat's Paw from it sheath at her waist and laid it on the table in front of her. The black dragonbone hilt was smooth and unadorned and rich colors appeared to shimmer along the blade in the torchlight. "This is the Valerian steel dagger that pierced the heart of the Night King and dispelled the magic that animated his undead army."

There was dead silence around the table now, and the faces of the listeners displayed awe and respect, although Captain Saan appeared troubled.

Returning to the original topic of conversation, Lord Buckler ventured, "I assume that you were separated from Gendry Waters when the Hound took you captive."

Arya nodded in agreement, "Aye, I stayed in Braavos for four years and had no idea that he still lived until we were reunited in Winterfell just prior to the last battle against the Night King." The somber mood was palpable as everyone reflected on those awful days. Not knowing why she was being so supportive before strangers of a man she had left behind long ago, Arya firmly declared, "Your lord proved his worth in that battle, forging many dragonglass weapons for the troops, and fighting like a berserker as we desperately defended our lives against the Army of the Undead. He was trained to be a craftsman, not a soldier, yet he put his life on the line for Queen and Country. Ser Gendry well deserved his legitimization. It was the right thing to do."

There was more murmuring at her decisive words and a few old war veterans at the table nodded their heads in agreement. No one previously had spoken of Lord Baratheon in such a manner and the assemblage understood their liege lord better now.

Following dinner, Captain Saan escorted Arya back to her chambers, formally grasping her elbow. The old mariner had enjoyed his wine, and he usually irreverently teased and japed with the adventurer when in his cups, relishing the smiles, frowns, or smoldering looks that appeared on the lovely girl's face, but tonight he was silent and grave, in fact, mute as they walked. When they arrived at her door, the captain turned to her with a solemn and searching gaze, "Princess, I did not know all the details of the horrors you faced following your ill-fated venture into King's Landing with your lord father." He paused to gather his thoughts, "Now I see that the difficult and dangerous challenges we faced on our voyage were almost child's play compared to the ones you had survived." His kissed her forehead, "I think that you are a remarkable young woman, Arya, and I hold you in my highest regard."

Arya was moved by his heartfelt confession, but simply smiled softly and squeezed his hand, "Nae, our journey was as challenging, and I am grateful that we had each other to depend on in order to endure the hardships. I learned much from the voyage and would not trade the memories for saffron. Traveling with you was invaluable for me. I shall always hold our friendship dearly. "

Captain Saan returned her soft smile, bowed, and left the girl to her gather her strength for the remainder of their ride through the Stormlands.

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Arya returned to her chamber exhausted from riding, relaxed from her bath, and mellow from the wine, and was prepared to appreciate a most welcome night spent sleeping indoors on a featherbed. Her handmaidens were subdued as they helped her out of her formal clothing, cleaned her face, and slipped a soft silk nightgown over her head. There are no secrets in a castle, and already the startling contents of the Northerner's monologue had spread amongst the staff. Finally Bess gathered her courage and blurted out, "Milady, are you really the 'Dawn Bringer' they speak of, the killer of the Night King?"

"Aye," Arya replied, and held up Cat's Paw, "and here is the blade that did the deed."

The tale of Ser Brienne of the Kingsguard was not widely known outside of King's Landing, and Bess asked, "Princess, can any woman become a warrior?"

The wolf girl snorted and her eyes narrowed, "Only a woman who has the audacity to stand in front of men and say, 'I don't give a fuck about what you think of me!', and demands to learn swordplay from the master at arms, and challenges squires and knights to spar with her. Few women are bold enough to counter the disapproval of the men in their lives, and unfortunately, that of the women, too."

"But Lady Arya, you became a warrior," Bess replied.

"That is because I have never been concerned about the negative opinions of those who really have no effect on what I desired to do with my life. The thoughts of my lord father and brothers were important to me, as well as my teachers, but I ignored the useless chatter of others."

Bess considered her words, "I doubt that I could ever find the strength to do that."

Arya nodded in agreement, "Aye, courage is the most important thing."

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The travelers left the following morning after breaking their fast and profusely thanking their hosts for providing the brief respite from the harsh road, declining the generous offer to remain for a few days, as they were eager to get to Storm's End. After they had been plodding in a familiar and monotonous fashion down the Kingsroad for a few hours, Ser Davos turned to Arya and said, "Princess, Lord Buckler has not been counted amongst the truly loyal vassals of House Baratheon. In fact, during the War of Five Kings, he had first halfheartedly supported Renly, then turned to Stannis, and finally aligned himself with Joffrey." He was silent for a few minutes and then thoughtfully continued, "Mayhaps after hearing your story, he has more respect for the bastard Lord of the Stormlands."

After another week of riding, the travelers finally saw the impressive castle filling their view to the south. The imposing Drum Tower, like a clenched fist thrust into the sky, rose above the one hundred foot high stout outer walls. Ser Davos turned to Arya and explained, "Princess, your ancestor, Bran the Builder, helped build this castle. He designed Storm's End to withstand the severe thunderstorms that roll in frequently from Shipbreaker Bay, and it has stood for thousands of years."

The wolf girl grinned, "Tis interesting to know that a Stark was responsible for this remarkable fortress. Bran also built Winterfell, so there is a connection between North and South."

The party entered the huge gates of the castle and dismounted as eager stableboys and squires rushed to take their tired horses, and servants collected their saddle bags and the goods from the supply horse. Arya was greeted by the castellan, Ser Gilbert Farring, whose house had always been loyal to the Baratheons. Ser Gilbert had been appointed by King Stannis Baratheon, and he had held off the siege of Storm's End by Lord Mace Tyrell. Although Ser Gilbert's son Bryen had served as squire to King Stannis and died in the frozen North, he remained loyal. The castle steward and servants curiously inspected the unusual guests, a modest girl attired as a soldier and a ship's captain, and when Ser Davos told the steward to have the chambers usually reserved for Lady Baratheon made ready for Lady Stark, the staff became very excited and chattered loudly at the implications. Ser Davos shushed the crowd and ordered them to reduce the fanfare, stating, "Lady Arya is an old friend of our lord and she means to surprise him with her presence. We do not want Lord Baratheon to become aware of any commotion in the bailey."

Ser Davos took Captain Saan to the kitchens, for he was fairly ravenous for some decent food. He offered the same for Arya, but she declined, replying, "Ser Davos, I am much too agitated about this reunion that the two of you have been yammering about for three weeks to be hungry! I want to go to the forge immediately." A servant led her to the sound of a hammer beating on metal and the smell of fire, and with her heart pounding, Arya gazed through the door at the broad back and shoulders of a rather large man.

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The nervous warrior woman stood silently in the doorway of the forge, working to slow her breathing and internally reciting over and over, quiet as a shadow, and still as stone, as she watched Gendry working at the anvil, shirtless as usual. Excitement was building as she scrutinized the flexing muscles of his arms and torso, and she felt tension in her lower belly as she anticipated their reunion. What will he say when he first sees me? Arya suddenly recalled casually watching Gendry in the Harrenhal smithy so long ago. She had recently flowered, but had been too embarrassed to talk about the sudden changes. A perceptive undercook had noticed and explained what was happening to her body. So she was experiencing womanly feelings for the first time as she examined the handsome youth, but she thought the sensation was hunger and ate an apple to quell the butterflies in her stomach. Then her recollections moved forward in time to a storage room in Winterfell, and she remembered how delicious Gendry had appeared lying naked on the grain sacks, his athletic frame and flat stomach, his proud cock standing up eagerly awaiting the act of penetration. Now she realized that her heart was beating faster and she was beginning to feel aroused, similar to the anticipation she felt as Lanna approached their bed with a wicked gleam in her eyes. The water dancer inhaled a deep breath and slowly let it out, reciting in her mind the familiar words, calm as still water. But Arya bit her lip as she also recalled the problems of their coupling that fateful night. Mayhaps the timing was all wrong, she speculated.

As Arya worked up the nerve to announce her presence, another memory forced its way into her thoughts. She was reminded of the circumstances of their very last meeting, recalling that during the feast following the defeat of the Night King, she felt most uncomfortable with the attention of the celebrants as Queen Daenerys praised her for her decisive actions. She quickly stole away to a storeroom to practice archery and recover her poise. Gendry had searched her out, and she felt those flutters in the pit of her stomach again as he approached, his face shining with unabashed adoration and mayhaps too much ale (a Faceless Man would never have revealed his feelings so blatantly). Without warning, he seized her and forced a kiss on her mouth, an action that would instantly have resulted in the immediate demise of any other man from a knife in the heart, but this was Gendry, and she accepted the intimacy. In fact, a thought briefly crossed her mind as a stronger urge struck her center, Mayhaps he would like to pick up where we left off last night on those grain sacks. However, as she immediately sensed that he was going to take the more conventional step of stupidly proposing marriage (which was likely to have thrilled any other normal highborn maiden of Westeros), her blood froze and all she could think of was escape. But the emotionless assassin discovered that she did have a fondness for this foolishly besotted boy, and tried to let him down gently, bestowing on him such a passionate kiss that she could feel him practically melting in her arms. Then she abruptly left after breaking his heart with her cold parting words. Arya never looked back nor sought to initiate contact again. Now she had to know, does he really love me or is he just angry and resentful?

Arya had known love: Her lord father and her brother Jon had lavished it on her and she had always acutely missed their devotion. She knew that even the Hound had affection for her. When they met up at Winterfell, he had snapped, "You're a cold little bitch, aren't you? Guess that's why you are still alive." Harsh words, but she saw pride and love in his eyes when he roughly addressed her. If I had bothered to play the lying game with him, I could have forced the truth and made him admit that he cared for me. But there was no reason to torment his dignity, she considered. She enjoyed the power the lying game gave her over most of the men she had met outside of the House of Black and White, and felt they were generally weak-minded. Tywin Lannister and Beric Dondarrion were the only men that she surmised could resist her mental attack, and she loved a good challenge.

As she began to grow into a young woman amongst the Faceless Men, Arya fancied that she was falling in love with Jaqen, as the handsome assassin had actively recruited her and seemed to be very interested in her progress, and she thought that the man who constantly called her, 'lovely girl', might love her also. However, she soon learned the cruel truth, that Jaqen valued her only for her talent for coldly granting the gift of death without any regret, and the House of Black and White had plans for her future.

Gendry was different, though. He was not afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve in relation to her, and did not fear revealing his vulnerability and weakness. And when they met again at Winterfell after a long separation, he smiled and softly murmured, "As you wish, milady," and she could not help but return that same vulnerability with a shy, downward gaze. The warrior woman had no armor against Gendry's passion. In fact, she felt that familiar sense of desire at that very moment, and later, when she sternly ordered, "My weapon!" and he humbly replied, "I'll get right on it," she knew that they would be naked in each other's arms at the first opportunity. Arya had never felt such a sense of lust before, and now, staring at his back, she had to suppress that feeling so that she could coolly face him and not reveal her emotions. Calm as still water, she recited again.

After these moments of reflection, Arya called out and briefly experienced uneasiness as she spoke to him for the first time, but as a Faceless Man, she observed him sharply when he turned around, reading the sentiments of anxiety, nervousness, and hope on his face. She decided to play the lying game on him, to see if he was sincere, and learned that, aye, he was forthright, and there was not a devious bone in his body. Gendry was a simple man, and when he had proposed, in his mind he was talking to the vulnerable child she had been when she implored, "I could be your family." Even though she had demonstrated her incredible skill set, he still was desperate to protect her, wrap her in his strong arms, wed her, and raise babes with her.

By the end of their conversation Arya was relieved to learn that Gendry did not hold a grudge against her for leaving him so abruptly, and had come to accept over time that she had needed her freedom to flee the turmoil she had experienced. She had not known what the future held for her, but she had to escape the sickness in her mind brought on by bloodshed, suffering, and vengeance. Gendry had hoped that she would survive and patiently waited for her to return, unable to consider a life without her. The adventurer was astounded by his loyalty, but against all odds, here she was, back in Westeros, in the company of the man who truly loved her, and realized that she probably loved him, too, possibly loved him enough to wed him. Well, I'll stay for a while and see how it goes, Arya thought as they moved closer together and initiated a tentative kiss, then a deeper kiss that awoke memories of past passion and paved the way for mutual pleasure.

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Later that day, Ser Davos and Captain Saan returned to the kitchen and were pleased to see the young couple chatting amiably and holding hands across the table. Mistress Marra smiled at Ser Davos and winked at him and then shifted her eyes in the direction of the lovers. Upon seeing Ser Davos enter with an unfamiliar man, Gendry stood up and faced him with a curious expression on his face. Ser Davos smiled broadly, "Milord, this is my old friend, Captain Salladhar Saan, who on my behest was foolish enough to sail into the unknown with the wolf princess."

Captain Saan shook Gendry's hand vigorously and replied with sparkling eyes, "Aye, it was a worthy venture to travel with such a lovely maiden, and I spent much effort to return her safely to you, Lord Gendry." Gendry smiled and mentioned his appreciation as the introduction commenced.

All three men turned to Arya and beamed at her with affection. The wolf girl rolled her eyes and scoffed, "I do not need protection nor men hovering over me like nursemaids! You are all as tiresome as septas!"

The kitchen filled with laughter and they all sat down around the table to exchange tales and become better acquainted. Mistress Marra and her scullions fussed about, filling wine goblets and serving plates of cheese, fruit, and bread. Eventually, Ser Davos and Captain Saan began to become maudlin, expressing delight that Gendry and Arya had been able to reunite in spite of the hardships endured. Arya stood up and declared, "You are getting too sentimental for me! I have had enough!" Turning to the smith, she ordered, "Gendry, accompany me to the armory. I believe a bit of sparring will expunge these mawkish emotions." Then she smiled wickedly, "Besides, I have no idea how good you are with a blade now."

"I have been practicing, milady," Gendry grinned, "And shall be happy to demonstrate my skill." The youth had no idea what he was in for, but in a short while he was on his back in the dust of the yard, under the point of her practice sword. The only difference with this sparring session was that it ended with the combatants rolling on the ground amidst much laughter, exchanging tickles, kisses and love bites instead of blows.

After Arya and Gendry left the kitchen, Mistress Marra joined the two men at the table and they chattered like a trio of old biddies, clucking about the young couple, assuring each other that the pair will soon wed and begin producing offspring.

By her third day at Storm's End, Arya decided to send a raven to Bran and was surprised when she entered the rookery, for the maester said, "Ah, milady, a raven has arrived for you." Bran's message read, How do you like the Stormlands? And she responded, You may send my sea chests to Storm's End. I believe that I will linger here for a while.

After a while, Arya also sent a raven to Sansa, informing her sister that she had decided to remain at Storm's End, confessing, Gendry is special, the only man I have met who loves me for myself, not my name, House, nor political implications. Sansa was aware that Stannis Baratheon, a follower of the Lightning Lord, had burned down the Godswood at Storm's End and sent Arya the gift of a weirwood sapling from Winterfell.

One month after Arya's arrival, the news of Arya's pregnancy became common knowledge around the castle, and ravens were sent to King's Landing and Winterfell. The same day that the raven flew to Bran, a message arrived from the greenseer, conveying his congratulations. Arya pondered, Is there anything he does not know in advance?!

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Note: The next chapter will be all about starting a family. I'm not sure yet, but some traveling might be in order also.