AN: Thanks, again, to Lightingmist95, who helped me fix a name mixup!
Gendry stoked the fire, and they spread their bedrolls on the floor. The room was so small that the edges of their blanket-pallets touched. When they'd both lain down, Gendry extended a blanket over the two of them. Arya raised an eyebrow. He'd never taken much notice of a woman's eyebrows before, but hers were impressively bold.
Gendry held up his hands defensively and said with mock innocence, "It'll be warmer!"
"Yes, I'm sure you'd do the same if it were Hot Pie you'd run into in the market," Arya said with a smirk, then turned onto her right side, as did Gendry. "Do you…do you really think I could get back to my family?"
He moved closer to her so that he could whisper in her ear. Even here, in a tiny shack in Fleabottom, sometimes it felt like the walls had ears. "We could go tomorrow. But only if you give up on your plan to kill the Mountain and the Queen."
She burst into tears, and Gendry pulled her close. Arya turned to him and cried into his chest. For a long time, her list had been all Arya had. Then, for a while, she'd tried to forget. Who was Arya without her family, without Nymeria, without her list? No one. She had tried so hard to be no one. But you can't be no one when you can't give up your sword. You can't be no one when most nights you are a great wolf, building a pack and running the forests of the North.
When she had stopped being no one, she'd taken up her list again, and crossing Walder Frey off had felt like justice. She had felt peace and bliss when her blade freed his blood.
Her father had always said that the man who passed the sentence should swing the sword, but when her father swung the sword, he always looked so sad after. Arya wondered whether something was wrong with her, whether she was broken or evil. Could she really survive without the thrill of scratching people off her list? She sobbed. Gendry stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, which startled her. She sniffled and looked up at him incredulously.
Gendry laughed. "Too forward of me? Apologies, m'lady."
She was on Gendry in a flash and pinned him. "I'm not a lady!"
Gendry knew he was strong enough to throw her off or roll them and pin her back. On the other hand, he knew that she probably had some moves that would make him greatly regret it if he threw her off or pinned her.
"But if I go back, I will be," she said. She released his arms and swiped away her tears but sat up still straddling Gendry. "It's not just that I won't be allowed to fight or hunt— that I'll be expected to sew and wear pretty dresses. I'm not a little girl anymore, and Jon will need to build alliances."
"Ah," Gendry said. Being noble meant having power over your vassals, but your people had certain freedoms that you did not. Arya looked a bit embarrassed and slid off of Gendry, but stayed close, whispering to him.
"My father and Robert Baratheon were friends. Robert Baratheon knew my father was respected in the North, so he wanted two things: to have my father as his advisor and to marry my sister to Joffrey to make the alliance of our families secure. But now you're the last Barratheon."
"The Barratheons are all gone, and just about everyone who knows about me is gone, too. There's no reason I would want…"
"None?" She looked hurt.
Why did she look hurt? "I was meant to make swords, not sit on a throne of 'em."
"But what if you could be…what if you could be Lord of Storm's End?"
Finally, he understood. Gendry whispered, "So we would go north to your family and say, 'This is Gendry, Robert Baratheon's bastard.' They would not only welcome me, but we'd take your brother's forces and, what, march south of King's Landing to overtake the Queen's men at Storm's End?"
"You think my brother, Jon Snow, wouldn't welcome you because you're base-born? And we don't have to take Storm's End. Storm's End is not the point."
Gendry smirked. "And what is the point?"
"Are you married? Bethrothed? In love?" She said the last phrase with a dismissive eyeroll.
Gendry chuckled. "No."
"I can't go back unmarried, Gendry. Even if you don't have holdings, if you have noble blood…I asked you once to be my family. You said I wouldn't be your family, I'd be your lady. But this way it could be both, Gendry. Please? It would even be better than if you had Storms End, because this way we can stay in the North. We'll have the alliance of two important families and be in Winterfell, too! Maybe we could even find Nymeria. I know she's wild now—a direwolf should be wild—but just to see her…oh, Gendry, she's so beautiful."
"You're proposing marriage? Arya, you haven't seen me in years! How do you know you even want…"
"You were my friend. Have you changed that much? Most noble girls don't get a say when their parents arrange a betrothal. I could be a good wife! Well, probably not, but…"
It suddenly occurred to Arya that she had no idea what Gendry wanted in life. She didn't even know why he was in King's Landing.
"I'm sorry. That wasn't fair of me to ask. It just seemed like a perfect solution. Never mind. Why are you here in King's Landing? Maybe I'm meant to help with your plan, not the other way 'round."
The truth was, Gendry had come back to Fleabottom, his childhood neighborhood, because he hadn't known where else to go. Gendry had thought he'd found a home with the Brotherhood Without Borders until they'd sold him to the Red Woman. He'd barely escaped with his life. He'd rowed his boat to freedom, but each place he tried to settle felt wrong. Arya was right: No one was safe anywhere. So he'd come back looking for home. Maybe he could go back to blacksmithing, marry a comely girl, have a few children. But then he'd seen her: the girl on the bridge: the girl sure to bring him danger and pain. And he'd run to her, not away.
"Honestly, 'Arry? I like your plan better."
AN: Reviews are such a positive motivator. I'd appreciate if you'd leave me one. Thanks!