Chapter 3

Jon turned up with a bag of doughnuts when Gendry was half-dressed and they were in the middle of what he hoped was their worst argument of the day.

"Just put the fucking thing on, you don't have to marry it!"

"No, if I put it on you'll have an opinion on it, and I've had enough of your opinions. That's how I've ended up with three polo shirts! I'm not a Republican going golfing!"

"Don't complain, they are exactly what we're looking for! Get your head in the game, Gendry, this isn't your Grandma's picnic, we're on a mission! You can't just wear anything to Prom!"

In another life Arya would be an incredible high school football coach. She was focused, motivated, and tirelessly angry. As it was, Jon was grateful she had no interest whatsoever in their games.

Gendry opened his mouth to respond, but Jon could see Arya's face in the mirror and decided an intervention was needed,

"I come bearing deep-fried goods."

Arya span to face him, "Thank fuck, your moron friend won't do what's good for him." She marched over and took the bag from him, showering the sugar over the floor as she shoved a greasy doughnut hole in her mouth.

"I just don't want to add a cummerbund to this," Gendry gestured to himself, appealing to Jon with the look of a man far past his limit, "because I know I'll look like a dick."

"You'd look like less of a dick if you did your shirt up." Jon suggested, speaking before Arya had time to swallow.

Gendry sighed and shook his head, the picture of defiance, "No, because that is one step closer to what she wants, and she is a terrifying mistress."

"I am firm but I get results. Jon, tell him to stop being a dick." Arya turned to her cousin,

"Jon, do you mind taking your sister back where she came from?"

"What? Back to the land of the properly dressed, Mr. I've-never-seen-a-tie-before?"

"More like back to the American Girl store."

"I'm going to fucking-"

"I'm so glad you two are getting along." Jon sighed. Arya ignored him.

"-kill you, you are not in charge, do as you're told, pal."

Despite appearances, Jon could see that they were genuinely getting along. Neither one looked truly tormented, and there was a smile behind the insults. Arya had flicked her hair over her shoulder and back again three times in the space of a few minutes and Gendry kept huffing in a way that told Jon he was trying to disguise laughter.

"What's this outfit meant to be for?"

"Rock-climbing." Arya rolled her eyes at Gendry, stepping forward to offer him a doughnut.

"I probably shouldn't, in case this gets ruined. Especially," he added, seeming unable to help himself, "since I'm not getting it anyway."

"You're not, dad is, shut up and eat a doughnut, Second-Place."

Gendry took one, shaking his head, but the talk of money shut him up. It wasn't an uncommon thing for their father to do, leave his card with one of them when they needed to purchase something big and expensive, but Gendry was frowning at Arya like she had mentioned he was offering to sell a kidney for them.
Jon knew that Gendry wasn't rich, hence the scholarship, but he had never wanted to talk about money with him. It just made things awkward reminding people that the Starks were rolling in it.

Jon coughed, and changed the subject as quickly as he could,

"Since Prom has been mentioned, are you going to get a dress or something?"

Arya looked up at him in disgust.

"I'm not going to Prom."

"What? Why not?" Jon had the audacity to look confused. Arya gave him an exaggerated huff before answering.

"Who would I go with? Hot-Pie? I don't exactly fancy hanging off you lot all night, and I'm not likely to get any offers worth considering," She spoke quickly enough it would be easy not to notice the slight flush on her cheeks, "Plus, it would mean having to buy all the fancy Sansa-things that you know I hate."

"But Sansa would love it. She'd do your hair and everything."

Arya swallowed the last of her doughnut and turned so she was looking at her cousin full in the face. She fixed him with a look that made him regret his last sentence.

"If this is you trying to convince me, Jon, then you have never known me. Why the fuck would I want my hair done?"

Jon groaned, throwing his head back dramatically, "Just go and look at something pretty, okay? We need something else to justify all the money we're going to spend here anyway."

"I don't think dad would be too happy if I bought a hundred dollar dress 'just in case'." She was clutching at straws and she knew it.

"I think dad would buy you three hundred-dollar-dresses if you asked him, just go. Shoo. And come back with at least two option so we can spin you around the podium and make you feel as uncomfortable as we've been making Gendry feel all day." He threw in a laugh for the last, but she knew he wasn't speaking entirely in jest.

She folded her arms, still standing her ground, "What about you?"

"What about me? I'm wearing my suit from homecoming."

"Eugh, how come boys can put no effort in and nobody cares?"

"Arya." Jon was scowling at her properly now, in a seriously-please-just-do-it sort of way that always got her to listen, "Stop stalling and go."

She glared, she groaned, but finally she turned towards the women's section. She may be fierce but she knew when a fight was lost. "Do something useful while I'm gone at least," she said finally.

Jon nodded obligingly. From the look she sent over his shoulder he presumed Gendry had waved but knew he couldn't turn to look without ruining his firm-older-brother look.
"Sure." He smiled and nodded. He waited until she was around the corner before turning to Gendry, now collapsed onto the bench, biting into another doughnut. "Do you want a coffee with that?"

Arya ran her fingers through the soft fabrics, feeling the chiffon and wishing she didn't like it so much. She wasn't like Sansa; there was no way anyone was asking her to Prom. The thought of her sister spinning happily in her dress (blue, knee-length, a little bit of sparkle) made her stomach twist uncomfortably. For a few blissful hours she had forgotten that there was such a thing as Prom. Now all she could see was her sister standing in the living room in her brand new dress, looking like someone had taken a sledgehammer to her self-esteem. Arya wished she hadn't opened her damned mouth.

She stopped at a short green strapless number. On the model it was inappropriately small, but as Gendry had so astutely pointed out, Arya was shorter than average. She pulled her size from the rack, along with a bright yellow one she thought might make her cousin laugh.

Gendry was in his own clothes again when Arya returned.

"Those had better not be for me." He was pulling an exaggeratedly fearful face, but the glimmer of real fear tickled Arya. Oh, to have such power on everyone.

She laughed, draping some of the skirt fabric over his shoulder, "Oh, I don't know. I think Green might be your colour. It would complement your eyes well."

He looked appraisingly at it, "Sure. My eyes are blue, but sure."

"I said complement, not match," She rolled her eyes and swept the skirt back over her arm, "But it's nice to see the correct attitude has been restored. Did we have a little chat?"

"We had a few minutes peace more like."

"Actually," Jon cut across what was sure to be more trading of insults, "we were planning for this afternoon's mission."

"What's in store for this afternoon?" Arya called as she crossed to the nearest curtained stall. She tried not to laugh as she saw the two dresses hung up beside each other.

"Educating on some topics of conversation, big likes and dislikes, things that she can really go on about."

"That's a good idea." Arya nodded, thoughtfully. They were definitely going to need her input on some of that. The boys still seemed to think their sister listened to boybands and Disney soundtracks.

"Plus I think he might need a haircut."

"No!" Arya called urgently, spinning around. She flushed when she realised just how loudly she had shouted, "I mean, no, his hair is the right sort of length, he just needs to brush it and maybe use a bit of conditioner. Just focus on giving him something to talk to Sansa about other than Geography homework." She squinted at Jon, eyeing them as though she deeply doubted they had anything more significant to talk about other than homework or football.

Jon gave her a salute, "Yes ma'am. Now are you going to try those on today or shall we wait until they chuck us out?"

"Fine, fine." She rolled her eyes as she pulled the curtain closed.

Jon did in fact laugh at the yellow dress. Arya flounced out and span around the mirror room like a model at a catwalk show and had the two boys in stitches. Jon took a picture for Sansa, and got a full page of crying laughter emojis back.

"So maybe not this one, then?" Arya looked between the two boys on the sofa, hands pressed to her face in distress.

"No, maybe not." Jon shook his head, still laughing, "Did you get any others?"

"Yeah, but nothing to match the glory of this," she twisted the tulle around her hand, "It's sort of like candy floss, isn't it?"

"I was thinking it's like," Gendry considered for a moment and then seemed to throw caution to the wind, "you know when the cheerleaders are all spinning in the air and it's a bit of mayhem, but then they shake their pom-poms and you're sufficiently distracted from any mistakes because, 'hey, pretty girl is shaking something shiny at you!' It's sort of like that."

Arya snorted, and grabbed a handful of skirt, ruffling it in his direction, "Go Wolves!"

"Well, that's definitely distracting." Jon muttered, frowning at her.

Arya laughed, "Okay, well this next one is meant to be taken seriously. What a calming forest glade is to the excitement of a cheerleader's dance."

"So you look like a tree?" Gendry wrinkled his nose, and tilted his head. Jon snorted, but turned it into a cough when Arya glared at him.

"Hopefully a nice tree." She rolled her eyes again, wondering if she would have explored every crevice of her eyelids before the day was out. Good grief. She picked up her skirts and flounced back into the changing room, ignoring the sniggering behind her.

When she pulled the curtain open the second time, the reaction was quieter.

She ran her hands over the front of the skirt, brushing the wrinkles out, but really buying time before she had to look at five versions of herself.

"Well? Nice tree?" she asked with a chuckle. She felt her heart fluttering in the following silence.

And then Gendry smiled,

"Very nice tree. I like the –er – leaves." He nodded to the detailing that ran around the bodice.

Arya laughed, and swept her arms up so they could see it in full. She took a few more steps out of the cubicle so she was fully in the light.

Jon was frowning, "Bit short, though."

Arya scoffed, "Not really, it's knee length," she stepped up to the mirrors and saw herself spin around in a surprisingly light satin. She tried to look at it from a protective big brother's point of view and could see some difficulty with the low back, but the hemline was more than appropriate. She span back to face them, hands on her hips, ready to face Jon's disapproval.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she found that she couldn't quite deal with at the precise moment in time, not with Gendry sitting there too, so she cut him off before he could,

"And it's not like I'm wearing it out anyway, it's a 'just in case', isn't it?"

He considered for a second, before nodding, "Hm. Fine. Get dressed, and we'll pay for this lot," he glanced down at his phone, and Arya glanced towards Gendry who was still watching her, silently, "Robb texted and sounds pretty bored."

She stepped down and away from the mirrors, giving him a firm salute before turning back to the dressing room,

"Yessir."