Notes: PLEASE NOTE THE RATING! This chapter takes a rather graphic and dark turn at the end... Proceed with caution. I have a feeling some of you are going to hate it, but I felt it was necessary for some much needed character development. Hopefully I still have some readers after this!

The next morn, Arya found herself in the armory and seeking a man whom she'd seen often but had interacted with seldomly since her return, her feelings on him conflicted still, but left with few options considering how many people she found herself avoiding just then.

He wasn't alone, four other smiths working in the building that housed a huge central forge with workspaces arranged around it. She approached him anyway, the could she passed before she reached him clearly recognizing her and refraining from saying anything in the face of her clear focus. She observed him from behind for a long moment, watching the play of his honed musculature under the loose shirt he hadn't yet abandoned so early in the day. She had no doubt he would be working bare-chested by high noon, despite the chill and snow on the ground outside the sweat box that existed within the stone walls.

She cleared her throat softly as he moved back to drench the blade he currently bore from raw dragon glass in a barrel of water with an easy grace that still caught her attention, all these years later. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound and then froze as he realized who it was.

"Lady Stark." He stated after a pause as he pulled the blade free and moved back across to this work surface.

"Gendry." She greeted softly, torn on whether or not to correct his term of address considering they hadn't spoken since her somewhat tense reaction at finding him with Beric and Thoros so many days prior. "It's good to see you looking well-" She tried, pulling on learned skills to try and navigate the uncomfortable exchange.

She should have sought him out sooner, she knew suddenly. They'd been through a lot together, had survived a lot together, regardless of how they may have parted ways. She watched as he shot her an incredulous look out of the corner of his eye. "Aye," He responded. "Your brothers been good to me." He allowed, tone still tense.

"How long have you been here?"

"Dunno, a while, haven't really been keeping track all that close. Times more for people like you than me, anyhow." He told her.

"What does that mean? Time's for everyone, especially now." She argued evenly. "That doesn't even make sense."

"Doesn't it? I know what I'm here for, know what I can contribute. Doesn't matter if we have five days or fifty before They come- I can work sunup to sun down and only pause long enough to rest and still only make as many blades as I can make in a day. That's my duty- I'm not an especially skilled fighter, not like you. Don't get me wrong, I'll fight with everything I've got, but I don't expect I'll survive the coming conflict if The Other's breech out defenses. That's okay though- I've come to terms with it. I'll make as many blades as I can before They come, arm as many folks as I can before it's too late, and then take down as many as I can before they take me down. That's what I have to offer this fight."

"I can teach you to fight." Arya offered lowly. "You're already comfortable with a blade in your hand, I'm sure you'd pick it up quickly. This doesn't need be a death sentence."

"There's no time for that and you know it." He rebuked. "I've accepted my fate.

"If you've resigned yourself to dying, if you've truly no hope, why even come here? Why subject yourself to such a fate? Having hope, having confidence, not just believing but knowing you will win, are all things vital to the success of a battle. If you've none, you've already lost."

"Why are you here, Arya? You've known where to find me for days, why are you here now?"

"I-," She trailed off, uncertain of how to respond in the face of his clear refusal to answer. She locked down on her scattered emotion and tensed her spine unconsciously as she pulled herself together and forcefully calmed her outer physiology.

"I need a favor." She told him, sounding almost blank. "A particular weapon I can't find in Westeros and one I want made with the Dragonglass." She pulled the cloth from where it was tucked into her belt beneath her warm cloak and unrolled it to show the blueprint she'd drawn. "Can you make it?"

He leaned closer, studying the lines of her designed with pinched brows. "I dunno why not, looks simple enough."

"You'll make it for me then?"

His head tiled so he could see her expression fully and she could see the line of his tense jaw flex as he grit his teeth. "Sure, give me a few days. You'll have it before They arrive." He told her, turning back to his previous task and moving to reheat the material he working. "Anything else, Mi'lady?" He asked her without turning.

She felt like she'd lost something with that term of address after he'd finally called her by her name and naught else. It stung. "No, nothing else. Thank you Gendry." She told him before turning and taking her leave. She felt his eyes on her back but didn't turn to meet his expression as she escaped the oppressive heat of the forge.

When she left the stone hewn building, she found herself once again uncertain of where to go. The wind picked up as she stood undecided on the moderately busy street. A familiar howl picked up, followed by several others in the near distance. She turned and began striding towards the gates that would take her to the forest beyond the keep, sticking to the edge of the path in an attempt to remain unnoticed.

It didn't take long before she was trekking along the well-trod snow immediately surrounding the walls which grew deeper and wetter the further she went until the sounds of the camps became muffled and faded completely. She saw signs of them before she actually caught a glance of any fur or footprints obvious to one who was familiar with the sight leading towards what she knew to be a grove deep in the wood.

She heard shuffling ahead and scattered growling as she approached as she slowed to a stop as she listened. "Nymeria?" She called gently after a moment's hesitation. A whistled from her pursed lips followed and echoed on the still air as it moved through the dense forest. Movement manifested before her and she peered into the foliage shadowed by the thick layer of snow coating the canopy above. Piercing eyes caught hers and her breath stilled in her chest as she watched the great beast approach. "Hey girl." She murmured as the Direwolf came within reaching distance.

Nymeria allowed her to reach out and stroke her thick fur, but her head remained raised on watchful, ears twitching to catch the sounds surrounding them. "What's wrong girl? What is it?" A second wolf came into the light, this one much smaller but almost identical in markings to the first. A third trailed behind but remained a weary dozen or so feet back, watching the petite human interact with the first two.

Arya studied the smallest member with bubbling excitement. "Is this your pup?" Arya questioned allowed, reaching out again to stroke Nymeria before moving to introduce her scent to the clearly still adolescent wolf. The young male snuffed over her hand and forearm, stepping closer as his confidence and curiosity grew.

Direwolves, Arya knew, were one of the few breeds that didn't stop having litters just because of the Winter season- in the Far North, nearly every day was Winteresque afterall and so if that were the case the wouldn't survive there anymore than they were seen roaming the South. Instead, they tended to have smaller or larger litters depending on the severity of the weather at the time. Nymeria's own litter of siblings had been fairly large, but it had still been the end of summer then, and so survival not as scarce to come by. She wondered if this pup had been the only in the litter, or if there were others still hiding.

Nymeria's ear twitched again and her great head rose to peer out into the trees off to the North. "What's wrong girl? Can you hear them coming in the distance?" She asked, knowing the others had been spotted breeching the wall three days prior. At the last council they estimated they had approximately four days minimum before the army of Wrights would be upon them.

Arya wasn't sure how well she understood, but those large eyes turned to her with an intelligent gleam and she wondered how the pack would fare against the coming hoard. Would they simply be ignored or would they be slaughtered like so many men likely to come? "Do you want to come home girl? Come to Winterfell? You and your pack can stay within the walls in the Godswood. You used to like it there, do you remember?"

Nymeria's ear twitched again, though in her direction that time. Her great head dropped for a moment to nudge her shoulder and then her childhood companion turned and headed back into the shadows, her pup and mate following faithfully behind. Arya watched her go with a heavy heart, knowing it was probably for the best anyways- outside of the walls the pack could run freely in any direction, within the walls they would have been trapped along with the humans already there. She told herself not to be disappointment as she turned back towards the keep.

Almost as if he were waiting for her, Jaqen appeared just before she crested the ridge that would bring her into sight of the camps. He studied her as she approached and she wondered what he was reading on her face, regardless of her best attempt to remain blank and careless on the surface if nothing else.

He drew his dual swords without a word and she moved to follow willingly and thankful for the distraction. They remained there until the large circle of snow beneath their strides had become packed to a near solid sheet of ice and the shadows of the looming keep became long with the setting sun.

They were both worn from pauseless hours of sparring but felt better for the preparation of what was to come. Arya glanced across at him as they came to an upspoken stop. They were both flushed and mussed and she considered that it may be a good idea to bathe before returning to the keep if for no reason than to avoid further inquiry into her actions. "Do you want to join me at the hotspring before you return to camp?" She questioned aloud as she used the dry inside of her cloak to wipe her blades free of moisture before returning them to their place.

He tilted his head in acknowledgement and so she led the way to the nearby hidden entrance she'd visited so often since her return. She didn't see the frozen gaze of the man watching them go from a point in the distance.

Luckily when they arrived the snow hadn't had as much time to build back up, so it was fairly easy travel until the reached the threshold where the snow began to thin and melt from the approaching heat.

Arya had left a drying cloth and a few other things here purposefully some days before, knowing no others would likely stumble across it and so she didn't need worry about her stuff being used or taken. No one who swore themselves in service to The House and He of Many Faces could retain any sort of embarrassment in the face of nudity and so neither of them hesitated to strip themselves of their damp clothes and enter the mineral rich water. Arya breathed in deeply, feeling rejuvenated already as her lungs began to warm from the frigid air they'd been circulating.

"Will you stay for the fight?" Arya asked a minute or so later, breaking the easy silence as she reached for the piece of soap that was amongst her belongings beside the edge. "Or are you leaving soon?"

"A man does not yet know."

"They'll be here within days, you haven't much time to decide." She told him, though he already knew of his timeline.

"A girl needn't concern herself with a man's presence or purpose." He told her in what wasn't quite a rebuke for her worry.

"You have another purpose here?" She asked astutely, regardless.

He ignored her inquiry and tilted his head to dip his head and cleanse his hair. They finished bathing in silence and then rose to dry themselves and dress.

"Look for me tomorrow morn. I will require your assistance." Jaqen stated.

"Sure." She responded from where she sat on a dry rock beside the pool, toweling dry her growing hair. "Good Eve, Jaqen." She offered quietly as he left.

The next morning found Arya in the practice yard, awaiting an event of which she had no information for which to prepare herself. She wasn't interacting with anyone else in the courtyard, but rather watching the going-ons with keen eyes from the shadows along the wall beneath the overhead walk. When she spotted him, she knew it was him despite the unfamiliar face he wore. His bearing was the same, his sense of self, despite the foreign mannerism he was displaying to match his new appearance.

He stopped just inside the gates and his eyes landed on her with unerring accuracy as always. She stepped forward and approached him with steady strides as he too moved towards her. Rather than waiting until she reached him or speaking only to her, he stopped and stated a loud and unwavering voice "I require a meeting with the war council presiding within this Keep."

The men sparing and those milling around the edges all turned to stare curiously at the nondescript man wearing plain black wear and a unadorned black travelling cloak. "And you are?" Robb asked from above. Arya had paused her own strides when he spoke and glanced up to see her eldest brother standing with his Lady Wife on the walkway overhead.

Jaqen bowed his head shallowly. "A messenger, Your Grace. From my House to yours." He announced, allowing a hint that Arya knew no one else there would likely get.

"What is your name and from where do you hale, Messenger?" Robb pressed.

"You may call me Zalyne, Your Grace, and I hale from the Free City of Braavos at the behest of the Sealord himself bearing greetings and gifts, should they be accepted."

Robbs eyes darted to his sister down below, questions immediately coming to mind. "I will gladly hear your message." He offered.

"My message is not for any one man, King or not, but for the council as a whole."

"Then I welcome you to join us in the Council chambers." He glanced to the soldiers standing at intervals around the courtyard. "My men will escort you. Sister, won't you join me? We'll send messengers to bid the council join us."

Arya remained still as two men stepped forward and led Jaqen to the main entrance. Only then did she turn and make her own way to the narrow stairs that would allow her to join her brother and Good-Sister. She followed as they made their way back inside the warmth of the keep and to Robbs own personal meeting chambers. "Do you know that man?" Robb questioned after he'd given orders and sent off several men to gather the council.

"I've never seen him before this." Arya told him truthfully. "Nor am I familiar with that name." That was less true. Zalyne himself was the Sealord who'd uncloaked Braavos and brought news of its existence to the world, 111 years after its creation built upon the slaves of Volantes, but she doubted her brother knew Braavosi history to be familiar with such a well-known and common name in Essos. "I have no more an idea why he asks for audience than you do, Brother."

Robb studied her closely and gave into her denial after only a moments hesitation. The remained in somewhat silted silence until one of the men Robb had sent away returned, at which time they trailed from the smaller room to join up with the bulk of the council gathering together. Arya moved further away from her brother and approaching family to join with the Lannister party, as was expected of her since joining their council.

Though she didn't look at him directly, she saw Jaime out of the corner of his eye and he looked even more blasé and cold than he normally did, Lannister stoicism on par with his Fathers in that instance, though she hadn't an idea what had set him off this time for his didn't for he didn't even bother deem send her a glance upon her arrival.

They made their way into the room and to their designated seats amidst the whispers of the others wondering at their unexpected summoning. They were quieted as one when Robb rose to address the room. "Thank you all for coming so quickly and please know I apologize for the unexpected nature of todays meeting. We have received a guest hailing from Braavos who bid speak with the council as a whole." He paused to turn to face the unknown man waiting patiently to the side. "Master Zalyne, the floor is yours. What message do you have for us?"

Jaqen nodded gracefully and stepped forward to gain the attention of the room. When he spoke, it was in a lilting, accent tinted voice that kept their focus fully upon him.

"Your Grace, Ladies, and Lordships, I come bring good tidings from the Sealord of Braavos. News of this unnatural enemy has spread far across the Narrow Sea and your plight has been heard by many. My Lord sends help in the form of a great gift. Arriving later today will be a dozen barrels of pure Wildfire to spread across the fields beyond your fortifications. A single burning arrow and the first wave of their forces will be decimated. Tiz a great weapon to aid in your defense."

Arya heard Robb stutter over himself at the proclamation but she only had eyes from the man beside her who had paled so rapidly she feared he might lose consciousness. She remembered the story he had told of the Mad King and couldn't imagine how he felt at knowing he was going to witness the might of such a merciless and unstoppable weapon again first hand.

"And where did you master gain access to so much Wildfire?" She heard Robb question and looked back at Jaqen to observe his response.

"The Mad King left stores of it all over Westeros, if one knows where to look and who to talk to. I was able to procure an amount on your behalf to help you in the coming fight."

"That's very generous of you." Robb told him coolly. "And what does your master have to gain from sending you to help us?"

"My master makes his fortune on trade between the West and the East. Without a West to trade with, he'll lose half of his trade routes. He understands the importance of winning this fight."

Robb looked around the room, making eye contact with those who had the most pull in a bid to gain their advice.

"We should take every defense we can get." The young Lady of Bear Isle stated from her seat part way down the long room. "The more of them we can destroy before the reach us, the better our odds shall be of surviving."

"We aren't really in a position to turn him away." Jon agreed softly, two of his own men at his side and seated some distance from his family.

The first few comments opened the door for the others to pipe up and there was a pretty good mixture of those in favor of accepting the gift of Wildfire and those who opposed it- either on principle of the weapon itself, or out of mistrust for the stranger offering it, and a couple simply because someone else spoke in its favor.

Those in the Lannister party remained silent, instead taking in the opinions of all else who offered them first. There was finally a pause in the upheaval and Arya felt the gaze on her before she heard his voice. "And you, Lady Arya?" Robb questioned directly, drawing her eyes. "You've spent some time in Braavos. Is this 'Sealord' someone worthy of our trust?"

Arya found herself glancing almost apologetically at the Lannister Son as she responded in favor. "Aye, the Sealord is a good man and he does do quite a lot of trade with Westeros. This man speaks the truth. I believe the gift to be in good faith."

"And do you then think we should accept it?" He pressed, curiously. The room remained silent and she could feel their gazes upon her even as she continued to look steadily back at her eldest brother.

"I think we would be foolish to refuse such a formidable weapon, no matter who may offer it." That time she felt Jaime flinch more than she saw it, for his face was stony and blank despite its pallor. A mummer of agreement rose in her wake.

"All in favor?" Robb questioned and received the agreement of the majority of the room. "Alright then." He stated, looking back at the still patiently standing Jaqen. "We accept your generous offer. When shall we expect it to arrive?"

The next few days passed in a blur of preparations and tension as the oppressive knowledge that they were running out of time continued to weigh down on them. There was so much Arya wanted to do, so much she wanted to say to various people in her life, but it all felt so petty in the face of such a threat. She had attempted to talk to Jaime once again a day or so after the council, but he'd treated her just as coolly as before and she refused to bare the brunt of whatever anger he held.

She'd managed to have a rather silted conversation with Sansa that surprisingly didn't result in either of them fleeing or storming from the room, and she'd born a rather uncomfortable and unexpected hug from her mother, who seemed to be falling apart at the seems the closer they came to battle.

The day before they expected the hoard to arrive, Arya returned to the smith to retrieve her requested weapon, for she wanted to have as many useable defenses on her person as she could comfortably carry.

When she arrived, she found it bustling as the men working over the forges as quickly as they physically could in an attempt to finish as many blades as they could. She wove in between them, the hammering of the dragon glass piercing to her ears from the sheer volume of it, but she didn't falter as she pressed her way through.

She finally came upon the man she was looking for and found him peering down the length of the handle of her design. It appeared finished and looked just as she'd envisioned. "That for me?" She asked, grabbing his attention.

Gendry turned to look at her and then handed her the staff. He stepped back and watched as she twirled it a time to test its balance. "This'll work." She stated, satisfied, still taking in the lines and the detail of it.

There was a moment of silence as Gendry watched her before he spoke up. "You asked me why I was here, despite my odds. Last time you saw me you wanted me to come to Winterfell." He said, still watching her thoughtfully. "I took the long road, but.." He trailed off, but he needn't have continued for his point to be obvious.

"What did the Red Woman want with you?" She questioned instead of responding directly to his statement, not yet making eye contact.

Gendry turned his eyes away and then himself, pacing several steps before he answered. "She wanted my blood, to cast a spell." He said finally, eyes baring a haunted gleam as he glanced at her sideways.

"Why your blood?" Arya questioned astutely.

"I'm Robert Baratheon's bastard." He announced suddenly, the words rushed. Arya stopped fidgeting with her new weapon in sudden shock as she registered the words. Wide grey eyes looked back across at him as he continued. "I didn't know until she told me. "She tied me up, stripped me down, put leaches all over me…" He trailed off.

Arya paced closer, passing just in front of him and then showing him her back as she asked "Was that your first time?"

"Well yeah, I've never had leaches put all over me-" He responded with a defensive edge but she spoke over him.

"Your first time with a woman?" She asked as she strode further away and set the weapon down so she could turn to face him unhindered. She knew what she was asking could lead down a dangerous road, but her thoughts had taken a dangerous turn over recent days and she knew there were things she wanted to do before she died, however much she would deny such things if asked.

"What-?" He stuttered as he followed her. "I, I didn't, I wasn't with her-"

"Were you with other girls?" Arya pressed, face outwardly calm even as she asked herself if she really wanted to continue with this line of questioning… there, with him. "Before that? In Kings Landing?" But what other prospects did she really have if she wanted to experience such a thing? She was well and truly out of time had had essentially burned her other prospects- or, at least, the ones she would be trust to lie with in turn.

He looked at her, stunned. His mouth opened and various noises escaped as he attempted to assemble some speech together in response. She continued to stare him down, unfaltering as she watched him stutter over himself. "You don't remember?" She finally asked as they seemed to be getting nowhere. Part of her was glad it was so loud in the building that it would be near impossible to be overheard just then.

It took him another moment but he was finally able to answer, "Yes, there was."

"One?" She pressed. "Two? Twenty?"

"Well I didn't keep count-" He stated defensively.

She stared at him, deadpanned. "Yes, you did." She stated and then blinked at him calmly as she waited for him to respond.

"Three." He finally told her. Her eyes dropped as she considered her response.

She stepped closer, mind racing though none of the inner conflict showed on her face. "We're probably going to die soon…" She mused thoughtful, grey eyes dark as she studied him.

"Aye, we are." He told her, voice deeper as he watched her approach. He'd already lost his shirt some hours before, so his bare chest was on display, bronzed and gleaming from exertion. She could feel a heat growing between her thighs and she wanted so badly to experience how it felt to share her body with a man, to give over to the passion that had sparked in her so many years before and yet had gone ignored.

A clanging came suddenly and loudly from behind them and Arya jumped as if burned as she glanced around at the others still hard at work. She looked back to see Gendry watching her with lust in his eyes and knew if she continued to press him that he'd give in to what she was seeking, but… Is that really, truly, what she wanted? Was he who she wanted? Sure, they'd been close those years ago, had looked out for and helped protect each other on the road, but… Well, she didn't really know him, not anymore. He'd chosen the Brotherhood over her and had suffered for his choice when the Red Woman came into the picture, all without her.

She took a step back, feeing a regretful rush hit her at what she was doing. She picked back up the weapon from where she'd set it as she moved closer to the exit. "Thank you, Gendry. This is perfect, I couldn't have asked for better." She told him. "I must go, but mayhap shall see you later."

She turned fully away and made her way over to the door and out into the cold air. She heard the door open after she'd closed it and turned to glance over her shoulder. She saw him stand there and watch after her, eyes confused at the sudden change. She didn't say anything, nor go back to try and sooth over the hurt she could see growing in him but instead turned away and made for the keep.

It was getting dark and those present in the keep had elected to spend their last night before the battle in celebration and drink to send themselves off to whatever might happen on the morrow. Arya first found herself in the company of the hound, but excused herself when he was joined by Thoros and Beric, wanting less miserable company to spend what was potentially her last night with.

She found herself wandering towards the Lannister camp and eventually standing on the outskirts. She could see Jaime and Bronn seated at a campfire further down from the head where the Lannister Lord was positioned with his own council. She felt a bitterness flair in her when she noted the whores buzzing through the camp, one seated close enough to Jaime that she was practically on his lap.

She didn't approach at the sight but Bronn spotted her and gestured in her direction. Jaime looked across the camp and met her eyes blankly. Bronn leaned closer to speak in his hear, what was said Arya couldn't have guessed, but it caused the Kingsguard to push the girl further to the side so he could stand unhindered.

When he moved towards her it was with a lazy almost uncaring grace and he took his time before he finally reached her. "Princess." He stated, even sounding dismissive. "What brings you to our camp this night? I thought you would have plenty to occupy yourself without us." She looked past him for a moment to see Bronn scooting in on the whore left behind, though she looked disappointment at losing her first choice and made little effort to hide it.

"What does that mean?" Arya questioned, confused at his tone.

He raised a golden brow at her but did not respond to her inquiry when he did speak. "Why are you here, Princess?"

"You know I don't like when you call me that." She told him with a frown. "I was.. I hoped we could talk."

"Well… We're both here, and we're exchanging words so.. mission accomplished, then?" He offered sardonically.

"Somewhere without an audience, perhaps?" She asked, eyes darting to those she could see watching them.

"Fine, lead the way." He told her carelessly and then followed willingly enough as she turned and began moving towards the hot spring, though she knew it was dangerous with how close the Others might be considering its distance from the gates. It only took a few minutes to reach the hidden entrance and they were soon beside the steamy pool. "Well?" Jaime asked again, seeming angrier for some reason she hadn't figured out. "What was it you wished to speak to me about? And here of all places?"

"Here of all places?" Arya questioned, wanting to know the source of his hidden rage. "I thought we had a rather pleasant experience here before, I did not expect it to bring you more anger. Would you tell me what I have done to earn such emotions? I've already accepted that you will not marry, I hold no ill will towards you for that decision… but, are you still angry at me? Is that why you refuse to so much as look at me?"

Burning green eyes turned to meet hers head on as if in challenge. "I refuse you nothing." He denied. "Nothing except my hand that was not available to begin with. It is no fault of my own if you cannot accept your own failure."

"No, that's not, I didn't mean it that way." She told him, becoming frustrated wither herself for her inability to articulate her thoughts how she wanted. "What I mean is that I care for you, whether we marry or not- the same as I'd feel if the idea of marriage between us had never come up. I just, I care for you, not your father, nor your hand, or anything you can offer me except yourself. It's really rather simple." She said, tone softening towards the end. "I am sorry I lost sight of that amidst the politics."

Her words seemed to get through to him, at least somewhat, if not completely. She watched his jaw clench before he spoke. "I refuse you nothing." He repeated, pointedly.

"Nothing?" She repeated, stepping closer as hope began to bubble up. He tilted his head down to watch her approach and she could feel her skin pinkening from the heat as she drew closer to him and the spring behind him. "We're probably going to die soon." She told him, repeating her earlier words but the didn't feel wrong this time around.

"Aye." He agreed, word hardly more than a rumble.

"I don't want to die not knowing what it's like to lie with you." She told him, knowing it was the truth and knowing that her desire to lie with him was much more potent than her desire to lie with a man in general. "Forget your father, forget us getting married, or not getting married. I just want to be with you at least once."

He still didn't move and she thought he might refuse her. "You seemed more than willing to lie with that whore.. Am I really such a step down?" She questioned aloud, beginning to fee hurt. "At least I don't require payment first."

His expression grew more thoughtful and she could feel the moment he gave in to her. "No, not a step down." He told her before grabbing her arms almost roughly and pulling her close. She was quite a bit shorter than him, she he used his strength to lift her to him so that he didn't have to bow over her.

A startled grunt escaped her at the sudden passion and she wrapped her arms around his neck in a bid to gain her balance, her strong legs quickly following to wrap around his waist. He spun around and laid her almost carelessly upon the drying cloth that still lay beside the pool, stretched flat so it would dry before she had need of it again. "You sure you want this?" He grunted in her ear as his hands moved to the clasps of her clothing. "No going back after this."

She was honestly having second thoughts at his aggression, it not being what she had expected him to be like, but she was too stubborn to back out after finally getting him to break his composure. "I'm sure." She told him, voice almost breathy as he bit down and sucked on her neck beneath her ear. Luckily he didn't reman there for long as he was working on removing her top.

He had it free after only a few moments and she was soon exposed to the air. Being exposed fully to him felt different than being exposed before anyone else had felt. She could feel goosepimples erupting across her flesh and her nipples tightening until they were little more than hard nubs protruding from her breasts.

His callused hands came up to stroke over her bare rib cage and up over the more sensitive flesh to pluck roughly at the hard numbs before him. His mouth came down again to roll one between his teeth and the sensation was so overwhelming she couldn't decide if she liked it or not. One hand continued to toy with her other breast as the other moved down to untie the laces of her breeches.

He pulled the strings until they loosened and then his hand burrowed down without further hesitation to burry themselves in the folds of her womanhood, seemingly searching for something. He brushed a fingertip over the hidden nub and she rose up with the force of that first jolt of pleasure. She could feel that desperate heat coming back to pool between her thighs but this time a flood of wetness accompanied the sensation.

He pulled back suddenly and harshly tugged her pants down her slender legs until she was fully exposed. He pulled her thighs further apart without much care and she felt a rush of heat at knowing he could see the most hidden and intimate part of her. He rubbed up against that nub again, this time with a curled knuckle that he stroked further down to press over the slit of her in a tease of what was to come.

The pleasure from his practiced hands almost outweighed the lingering embarrassment she felt as how he was handling her- almost as if he didn't care who it was beneath him, for his hands were practiced enough at getting what he wanted from a woman's body without much need for thought.

He moved closer and she felt the blunt and silky tip of his manhood press against her for the first time. He didn't hesitate, didn't give her a second to get use to the foreign sensation, before using the small amount of wetness he'd pulled from her folds to ease his way as he pushed firmly and unwaveringly into her heat, forcing her body to stretch and accommodate him without care for her discomfort.

Her eyes squeezed shut at the painful shift she felt as he broke through her tightest spot and was suddenly able to move a lot more freely within her. It ached and stung as she felt the flesh within her tug and pull, her arousal completely drained. Her hands reached up to grip his biceps and she dug her fingertips into his flesh in a bid to control the sensations he tore from her with his own flesh that felt too large to be true moving inside of her.

His large hand came up to grip her slender waist and then stroked up to drag across her nipple once more, leading to a twisted sensation that wasn't pleasant or unpleasant on its own. She heard a grunt escape her own throat and his angle shifted and his speed increased slightly. The new angle seemed to let him slip even deeper within her but also brought another flair of pleasure to life.

His hand dropped to her hip and he used his strength to lift her bottom up, forcing her legs to wrap around him once again or else be left to flail uncontrollably with the force of his thrusts. His pelvis ground into the pleasurable nub he'd toyed with in the beginning and seemed to help the ache fade into the background as the pleasure began to filter in once more.

Wanting to help the sensation along and determined to find her own pleasure in this exchange, despite her partners apparent single minded focus, she pushed a slim hand down in between their bodies so her fingers could reach that nub and she could stroke it much more directly and firmly. The pleasure spread much more quickly with the manual stimulation and she could feel it cresting and growing to an extreme she'd never experienced before.

The pleasure thrummed and throbbed with her heartbeat and she could feel her inner passage convulse and squeeze down on the flesh moving smoothly within herself. Her leg twitched around Jaime's back and he seemed to cotton on to what was happening for his grabbed hold of her buried arm and forced it free and up beside her head. He gathered both slender wrists into one hand and then used his free arm to hook under the back of her knee and force her body to curl up beneath him. With her even more exposed to him, he grounded against she neither region relentlessly, pelvis once again slamming harshly against her nub while his manhood continued to stroke the inside of her until she couldn't hold back anymore and the pleasure gave way and crested into mind shattering waves.

Jaime continued to slam into her over and over again as he chased his own pleasure. He finally stilled, wrapped completely around her and holding her so close to his body that she could feel his manhood thicken further and then release waves of heat within her as his hips made tiny, aborted thrusts as he continued to empty himself of his release.

He seemed to pause for a long minute once he was finished before he released his hold on her sore body and pulled back. She grunted again as he pulled free and her leg dropped back to rest on the ground. He shifted back to rest on his haunches and she looked up to try and get a read on his expression, feeling at a loss of what to do now that the event was over and she was left laying upon the ground with a mixture of fluids dripping from her sore and swollen feeling womanhood.

His eyes ran almost carelessly over her body but froze when the reached the tenderest bit of her. "Arya.." He stuttered. "Are you.. were you, still a maiden?" he asked at the gleam of her murky virgin blood dripped down on the fabric beneath her.

She pulled back, startled at his question, and forced herself to sit up and draw her legs in despite the tenderness. "Of course,… Though you, you already knew that?" She told him, though it sounded like a question when it escaped her lips for they had spoken of it before.

He seemed to pale as he took her in, eyes scanning over her. "I saw you bring another man here mere days ago. I.. I saw you both emerge freshly bathed. I assumed…"

Arya forced herself to stand and move towards the spring, knowing she needed to cleanse the proof from her flesh before she returned. "You assumed I'd lay with another man without a thought, simply because you refused me?" She questioned bluntly, not turning to look at him as she ran her hands gently down her inner thighs.

"Arya, I'm sorry, I thought- I'm so sorry." She could hear him moving closer and suddenly didn't wish for him to touch or attempt to comfort her.

"There's nothing to apologize for." She rebuked him. "I got what I wanted, as did you. We'll call it a mutually satisfying exchange that we need ever speak of again."

She heard him froze and wondered how he would respond, asked herself how she wanted him to respond, but couldn't answer her own question. "You should get back to your camp before your father notices you're gone." She told him, giving him an out. "Good luck tomorrow, Jaime. I truly do hope you survive what is to come."

She heard him move closer again and felt his hand come down on her shoulder. She allowed herself to be turned though she did not meet his gaze, even as he tilted his head down to meet her lips with a tenderness that had been absent thus far. She could almost taste his regret as he pulled back and stated, "Good Luck Arya. May the Gods be in your favor." His lips came down again but to press against her forehead, where they lingered for several seconds.

She could hear him dressing himself but did not turn to watch him, even as she heard him turn to go.

Notes: …. Thoughts? …