Its been a long time since I last picked up this story: writers block! But I'm back, with a bit more inspiration. More to follow, and long may it continue!
Gendry
It was not quite dusk when the trio stopped to make camp. They each dismounted their steeds; Gendry helped an exhausted Arya off her mare, and wearily laid her down upon the cloaks of their makeshift camp, the warm and dewy grass soaking through to the skin. Since they had ridden south of the Trident, a day away from the great keep of Harrenhall, the days had grown warmer, the fields greener and more lush, the air damper, despite winter's icy grip upon all of Westeros.
They had crossed the Trident at the Twins without any trouble, the great stone edifices of the towers either side of the bridge had laid waste following Arya's one woman seige; the current occupiers were the rats, wolves and other predators stalking the Riverlands, full to the brim on decaying Frey meat.
Crossing the Blue Fork had been less simple. Lannister forces patrolled its banks relentlessly, the tributary at its widest was the safest way to cross unseen. They had to be quick and silent, the guards had wrongly assumed that it was too wide and too deep to cross, and so they had barely manned it, its only two lookouts lay sleeping on either side, under the canopy of ash trees.
The three had waded across, Arya perched atop Gendry's shoulders, silently protesting until she saw that the waters half way across reached Gendry's clavicle. She fell silent after this, crouching low over his head to avoid detection. The horses would have attracted too much attention, wading across the river, so they had sold them to a farmer for coin and meat and then continued on foot. Miraculously, upon reaching the other side, the Hound had noticed that their sleeping foe had also been charged with guarding a pair of horses, who had been loosely tacked to a tree, so Arya crept over to them, skilfully calmed them, and proceeded to lead the two steeds over to her impressed companions.
A blanket of stars now twinkled from the heavens down upon their camp, the moon providing much light for them to eat, wash and lay out upon their dampened furs without the need of a fire. Their supper was surprisingly filling, made up of the farmer's meat and any rations they could carry on their person across the river; stale hard bread, cheese and dried fruit. They ate like they had not eaten in months, savouring the tastes, eating in silence.
Gendry and Arya took the first watch, Clegane was asleep before his head touched the furs he had bundled up and stuffed under his head.
They lay together on Gendry's furs, her head resting gently on his broad shoulder staring up at the inky sky, pointing out the constellations to Gendry who listened intently, in awe of her, letting her words wash over him, her voice nourishing and warming his weary body.
She is so beautiful, so brave and clever. What must she make of me, a simple blacksmith from the arse end of the seven kingdoms. What does she see in me? I am not well read, I barely have my letters, all I know is how to raise a hammer, whether it be in the forge or in battle. She deserves a learned man, who can match her intelligence, a man who can show her the world, a man far beyond my league.
Gendry breathed in deep and let out a long sigh, feeling Arya's weight shift atop him, her body wiggling up his so she could turn and lean upon her elbow, looking down into his dark navy eyes. His breath caught in his throat, as blue captured grey.
"That was a quite a sigh Gendry, am I boring you?" she teased, nudging him in the ribs, smiling down on him mischievously.
"No!" Gendry emerged from his reverie laughing, cursing and clutching his side in mock pain, "How on earth could you bore me, Arya?" he looked up at her through his puppy dog eyes, making her laugh harder. He knew that she loved winding him up and he fell for it every time. He visibly relaxed below her, his own smile gracing his features, he ran his hand through his charcoal locks, brushing his fringe out of his eyes and stifled a yawn.
"No no no, Gendry, you cannot be falling asleep on me, any Lannister bastards that come sniffing around I'm going to need your sword arm!" she shook him, grabbing him by his collar and yanking it up and down to keep his focus on her. "Besides I'm yet to have my own fun with your sword arm."
"And what fun would that be, M'Lady?" he gazed up at her through his eyelashes suggestively, knowing that it drove her wild.
"Dont call me that!" she scolded, lightly slapping Gendry's shoulder, a spark of electricity from her hand sent a wave of pleasure from her touch straight to his groin. Without warning, Gendry gripped Arya's shoulders, and flipped them over violently, pinning Arya's arms above her head, spreading her legs enough to allow him to nestle his weight over her. Her squeal sent another wave of pleasure through him and he growled into her neck, kissing, licking and biting at her soft milky flesh, just under her ear lobe. Arya took a laboured breath in and sighed in pleasure, moaning as Gendry continued his ministrations, kissing his way from her neck along her jaw to her mouth, where his lips grazed and suckled hers, his tongue begging access.
Gendry let his hands wander everywhere, he unbuttoned her shirt and unlaced her breeches with ease, allowing her to wriggle underneath him to hastily pull them off. He pressed open mouthed kisses from her jaw, to her breasts, licking and suckling at each until her nipples hardened and she could no longer stifle her wanton cries. He kissed his way down, licking at her hips, raising her knees until her legs sat astride his shoulders. Without warning, he looked up at her, grinned mischievously and buried his tongue between her folds, lapping urgently from cunt to clit, the sounds Arya made, were a sweet music to his ears.
He savoured her taste, the sweet tang of her honey glazing his lips and tongue setting his taste buds aflame with her unique flavours. The intensity of the sensation, her smell and her taste, was overwhelming his senses, his throbbing member so hard now, pulsating, straining against his breeches, threatening to burst and spill forth his burgeoning orgasm. Feeling that she herself was nearing her own climax, Gendry began to speed up, introducing two of his fingers inside her, curling them up and repeatedly stroking as his tongue unceasingly assailed her blushing bud. Without warning, Arya shot up onto her elbows and howled wolfishly, gasping for breath, her chest heaving, her legs quivering, her eyes rolling dreamily up to the stars in sheer ecstasy.
Gendry smirked sexily, watching his lady ride out her pleasure from below, her hips bucking against his chin, her legs sliding heavily down from atop his shoulders. He sat up, dispensing of Arya's trembling body, and unlaced his shirt, his skin glistening in the moonlight, bedewed with sweat from the effort of his actions. The light from the stars seemed to be twinkling ever brighter around Arya's face as Gendry gazed upon his muse. Was it the stars? Was it her eyes? he thought as his whole world went dark and the ground came up to meet him.
