"We're going the wrong way," Arya said.
Gendry laughed. Arya was not used to being around someone who laughed so much. Her family had been a serious lot, especially her father and Jon, her favorite brother. In Bravos, she'd seen her fare share of mirth in the crowds at the theater or among the lechers in the taverns, but Gendry's laugh was different. Even when life was hard, he seemed to find the good in it.
"Not at all, bride." She rolled her eyes as he continued, "Due to a tragic 'accidental' wildfire accident, there isn't a church and barely a clergyman left in the city. Even if we could find a church and a holy man, it's not like we could even speak our true names in the vows. But you were raised with the Old Gods of the North…"
"And with the Old Gods, you don't need clergy. Just to pledge yourself in a Godswood, and…"
"Yes, and…" Gendry said with an eyebrow waggle. "It's not too late to change your mind."
"There is another option," Arya said. "I thought of it on our walk here."
Yet another reason for this walk South to the nearest Godswood, Gendry thought. Time to think it through and be sure. "And what's that, 'Arry?"
"We could go north, to Winterfell. You could be Gendry Rivers, a blacksmith. And I could be her," Arya said, gesturing to the bag that hung at her waist. "We could pledge fealty to my brother. You would make swords and horseshoes and I…"
"And you would be content to be your brother's vassal? To see your family, but never have them know you? To wear another woman's face the rest of your life? You would be content to be the wife of some commoner?"
"Maybe…if it was the right one," she said.
"I'm sorry, 'Arry, but I can't see you content with just cooking and cleaning and raising a passel of brats." He remembered her words the night before: "A direwolf should be wild."
"What if I taught them to fight? I could be Master of Swords and teach all the Stark children to fight like a Water Dancer."
"And no one would suspect a thing," he teased.
They arrived at the Godswood, a collection of elm, alder and black cottonwood trees overlooking the Blackwater Rush.
"This is different from the Godswoods of the North," Arya said, but nonetheless she was comforted to be surrounded by trees At the Godswood's center, Arya and Gendry found the heart tree. It wasn't a weirwood, with white bark and blood-red leaves but a great oak, its limbs overgrown with smokeberry vines. "It is said that no man can tell a lie in front of a heart tree, as the Old Gods know when men are lying. Are you sure you want to do this?"
They dropped their packs containing their meager possessions on the ground.
"I swear by the gods old and new: yes," Gendry said.
"Why?"
"Because if I don't, you'll take over the Iron Throne, and Westeros is not ready for the wrath of Queen Arya."
Arya laughed, but it was not entirely a joke.
"Alright, what do we do?" Gendry asked.
"According to Old Nan's stories, you just fast your hands and promise before the heart tree."
Gendry took a clean handkerchief from his pocket. They joined hands and managed to wrap the cloth around, forming a knot that Gendry pulled closed with his teeth.
"I, Arya Stark promise you, Gendry Baratheon, that I will be your family—wife and friend. I will protect you and honor you all of my days."
Gendry liked the simplicity of her vows in contrast to the big showy weddings in the Cathedrals of the Seven Gods.
"I, Gendry Baratheon…" the words felt strange but not untrue, "promise you, Arya Stark, that I will be your family—husband and friend. I will protect you and honor you all of my days."
"See," Arya said, "I told you you were really a Baratheon! You can't lie before a heart tree."
Gendry looked at the carved face. "Or what, it eats me?"
Arya laughed. When had she last laughed so much? She saw herself as a little girl, pulling pranks on Sansa, dueling with her brothers or beating Bran at archery. "Actually, I have no idea. Maybe you just fall down dead."
"It would have been considerate to warn me that was a possibility before the vows."
"I told you not to lie. So…" she raised their joined hands, still awkwardly tied. "should we…"
"You're forgetting something," Gendry teased. "The kiss."
"Yes. Right," Arya said, giving him a chaste peck on the lips before bringing their hands up to her own mouth. She loosened the knot with her teeth and pulled her hand free. "Now lets get out of here. I don't like being this close to the castle."
His bride grabbed her pack and took off at a quick clip, leaving her bemused groom in her wake.