She'd only closed her eyes for a few moments. A quick nap to recharge herself before starting off on her next adventure as she allows the rocking lull of the ship to carry her into the land of dreams.
When she opens her eyes again, she knows right away that she's no longer in her own body. Her own mind.
Everything was too loud. The scent of the open ocean of her ongoing voyage replaced with the tempting flavors she'd most associated with the kitchens of her childhood home as she rolled over to catch more of the warmth heating her back as she slept.
"There you are, you little troublemaker."
Arya's breath caught in her throat as her tired eyes blink open to find those of an old friend.
"Not even trying to hide your crimes this time." Hot Pie sighs waving a hand to the picked-over bones littering the floor at her feet as he steps closer to the warmed spot, she'd chosen for her nap by the kitchen fires. "Steal my chickens again." Hot Pie groans his hands on his hips as he attempts to intimidate her, but Arya can already see in his eyes Hot Pie was more amused by the act than truly angered as she licks her lips to catch the last flavors of the pilfered birds on her tongue as she stretches out her sleep dulled limbs before rolling properly to her feet. "Third time this week." The young kitchen master sighed
Arya's lip curls into a pleased smile when she catches her current reflection in a low hanging pot on the kitchen wall. The reflection staring back at her as young and strong as her own Nymeria had been the day Arya had been forced to part with her wild wolf rather than let the lions have her.
"You might think it's amusing but I don't considering that thanks to you, I have to find something else for our liege lord to have for his supper." Hot Pie scolds misreading the wolfish grin the animal seemed to be giving him.
Arya's ears perk up at the mention of his liege lord regardless of how she tries her best to repress the action. Not that she understood why considering last she'd heard Hot Pie was still working at the Crossroads Inn.
A rhythmic clang catches Arya's attention "Just as suitable and polite as your namesake you are." He calls after her when Arya simply walks away from him when Hot Pie attempt to continue his friendly scolding as if Arya was supposed to understand what that meant.
Musky flavors of the river and the forest combined in her nose as Arya makes her way from the kitchens toward the hypnotizing sound of the blacksmith's hammer at work.
The courtyard was as busy as that of the one she was used to at Winterfell only the change in the shades of grey she knew should be colors gave away where she was, but it wasn't until she spotted the banner draped over the battlements that she knew for certain.
The Baratheon Stag on its dusty background of gold
Storm's End
Again, the comforting sounds of the blacksmith's hammer pulls her attention bringing her back to her newest task.
He'd been on her mind more and more recently with each new mile she put between them. Just because the life he'd offered wasn't for her didn't mean she'd stopped caring for him deep down where Arya Stark still lived among her many new faces.
He was her Blacksmith and she as much as she denies it part of her will always be his Lady.
Soon the heavy scents of flames, soot, and heated mettle fill her nose as she pads under the shadow casting covering of the metal worker's cave.
At first, she was content to watch the young man standing at the forge.
Arya feels her human fingers twitch to touch and to claim just as she had that single night, she'd allowed herself to explore human intimacy as her phantom gaze traces the sweat-dampened muscles of the human man's back as he gives his hammer another hard swing against the heated metal he was working with.
His discarded, soot-coated shirt tosses away on a weapons ladened table a few paces away from where Arya hides so she can observe him in relative peace.
No matter how far she strayed, how long they'd been separated, what she tries to tell herself when it comes to the matter of her own emotions buried deep as they were thanks to her time with the faceless men this was a sight, she knew deep in her bones she'd never tire of.
"What trouble have you gotten into today, my lady?"
Arya starts in surprise at the question put to her over the sizzling hiss of newly forged iron.
Gendry was facing her fully now. His naked chest on full display to Arya's hungry gaze.
The young lord seems to follow her gaze with a soft scoff as he shakes his head. "Nothing you haven't seen before,' he teases as he reaches for his discarded shirt to attempt to wipe away the fresher coating of sweat from his upper body. "Better?" he questions once he'd finished.
An agreeing huff slips past Arya's lips as Gendry stretches his arms over his head working out stiff muscles as he makes his way toward her "Come on then. Let's go make ourselves more presentable for supper." Gendry sighed still rubbing his stiff shoulder.
Arya's grip on this new mind waned from the strain of the physical distance between herself and the animal's mind that for a few pained minutes Arya worried she'd lost it completely as she wavered between sleep and wakefulness.
"Rya?"
The worry in his voice is as good as an anchor for Arya's searching mind.
He's kneeling in front of her when her eyes meet his once again his calloused hands so gentle as he runs his hands over her fur down her back and over her stomach as if checking for some kind of injury. "What's wrong, my lady?"
Arya surged forward butting her head against her blacksmith's strong shoulder as she pulls in a deep breath of his scent.
Ash, iron, the deep musk of the forest on a river.
All the flavors she hadn't allowed herself to miss since walking away from the boy turned man that had first stolen her closely guarded heart.
"Aren't you the playful one today." Gendry chuckles sliding his hands into her fur as he wraps her in a soft hug.
The heavy knocking on the door to her cabin finally severs her link with the wolf's mind.
The last thing her wolf eyes see was the framed drawing she'd given her Lord of the weapon she'd needed during the Long Night hanging in a place of pride next to the western facing window of Gendry's chosen room.
"Apologies Captain." The crewman says his head bowed when she'd threw open her door. "We're approaching land, my lady." He informs her "Looks to be a city."
Arya nodes in thanks rubbing the last of the 'sleep' from her eyes closing the door abruptly as the crewmen's footsteps retreated.
For a fleeting moment, her gaze falls on the dusty window positioned back the way they'd sailed.
Toward him
She didn't know that the same moment he was looking out toward her with a hungry she-wolf nuzzling affectionately at his hand.
