She pushed him down and began tugging the tunic over her head, keen for it to start, unsure of what to expect but knowing that she had the need to do it. A ferocious need. She wasn't Sansa, she didn't need flowery words. She needed him. She needed to know what could have been.

She tried to ignore the look of confusion that flooded his face , knowing that if they had time he would be questioning each and every scar. she was still taken aback at how his face was. She was so used to it glistening with sweat and smeared with coaldust.

Unthreading the laces at her hips, she reasserted her control. "I'm not the Red Woman. Take your own bloody pants off. Noting the smirk on his face and smiling in return, She let the last of her clothes fall to the mixture of dirt and straw on the floor, never breaking her gaze. She wanted to remember this. She had been No One but tonight, for a fleeting hour or two she could be Arya of House Stark. He lay there still, looking at her as she closed the gap between them. She dropped her gaze and tried to shrug off the girlish fear at the size of him. How would it fit? She knew it would hurt, the first time. She was not scared of pain. She wanted to feel like a woman. She was Some One. Just for an hour or two.

Her eyes drew upwards to his face. Uncertainty mixed with longing, it was almost as if he was waiting for her to laugh and call it off.

She straddled him. She had seen it done in the brothels. She knew she was to sit on him. It didn't go in. He kissed her and pulled her closer, one hand in her hair, she'd kept it down, he had only ever really known her with short hair. "Arya, wait, please, for a moment" his other hand trailed down her neck, over her breast, pinching the nub. She drew back, it wasn't painful but strange. He took her whole breast which filled his big, calloused hand.He kept his eyes on her as he kissed her along her jawline. "If we are going to die tomorrow, and this is our only time together...your only time, it's got to be worth remembering" he took the bud in his mouth and lightly flicked it with his tongue. His hand continued on its journey south, stroking at her scars, her hips, which bucked. She allowed herself to close her eyes, so this was what it was like. His hand had found its way to her now, he grinned slyly at her wetness

"My Lady."

"Don't call me..." her breathing hitched, his bone was at her entrance, pressing to be let in.

"are you sure this is what you want? With me?" She ignored the tremor in his voice, she knew it was because he still didn't believe he was good enough, not for a 'little rich girl'.

"Gods, just do it already." She hit him on the chest and she was suddenly in pain. He had pierced her. She must have yelled out for he was trying to move out of her.

"Arya? What's wrong?" The panic was real, he clearly didn't know why she had felt a searing pain as she tore.

Clearly the other three had been with other men before him or he would have known.

"Nothing, keep going, it's fine."

He hesitated, not convinced. His eyebrows furrowed, he positioned himself again. He looked at her, as of for permission. She kissed him and pressed herself down, edging him in slowly. She pursed her lips and tried to ignore the pain. He was filling her slowly and it didn't seem to end. There was a soft hiss from his mouth and for the first time, he closed his eyes.

He started to move beneath her and slowly the pain turned into something more. Without knowing how or why she started to meet him at every thrust as he got quicker.

"Do you trust me Arry?" He asked through clenched teeth

She thought about it for a second or two. She thought back to Harrenhall, to Kings Landing, to his arms holding her back as she struggled to free herself to kill the Hould. Yes, she trusted him. She nodded and he turned her slowly, not breaking contact, and held her to him as they rolled, she was on the sacks now. He braced one of his arms on the wall and began to pick up pace. "You need to know..." his breathing quickened and she began to feel tight inside, like she was bursting for the Privy.

"I shouldn't have left you, you were right, oh Gods..." panting he withdrew himself from her and held himself in his hand. A thick, cloudy liquid burst from him and he sank back on his knees.

"What are y doing? Why have you stopped?" She pulled herself up from the bags she'd been lain on

"One bastard Baratheon is enough, I won't have you tainted by me." A glimmer of disgust was on his face. Grabbing his shirt? He wiped himself on it before looking back to her. "I'm sorry it wasn't longer." He looked disappointed and embarrassed. Whereas before he hasn't broken eye contact, for he had been in awe of her, now he couldn't look in her direction.

"For a blacksmiths apprentice, you aren't bad."

He grinned.

"Can I kiss you?"

Now it was her time to look confused

"After what we have just done, you are asking if you can kiss me?"

He nodded, shyly

She raised her eyebrows in response

Taking that as a yes he moved forwards, still kneeling and kissed the inside of her knee. Facing no rebuke, he continued until his face was an arrowhead from her forest.

"What are you doing?"

"Kissing you Mi'Lady"

"Don't call..." her breathing hitched again as his mouth crashed into her. She could feel his breath and his lips. Her mind emptied and all she could think about was how pleasant it was.

Soon her fingers were in his hair, or what was left of it, pulling him closer as her breathing became ragged. Moments passed and she was clawing at him begging him for the unknown.

It hit her hard. Her breathe left her with a strangled cry.

Suddenly his lips are on mouth and he was pulling her to him, she could feel the echo of her heartbeat through his chest, fast and racing.

"Arya, I..."

"Don't." She commanded. The whisper of a memory fell on them both.

Is that a command Lady Stark?