The runs had started as a joke, but Arya soon found they did her good. She could feel Nymeria again, as though the wolf were seeing through her eyes instead of the reverse. She would be running and catch the slightest sight or scent and drop to her haunches. Then she would kill the creature, simply, with an arrow, a spear or even just a blade in her hand. And when Arya and Gendry bedded down for the day, she slept deeply enough not to dream—or if she dreamt, she was not troubled by it.
Each day, she would suddenly hand her husband her pack and kiss him. He would say, "Goodbye, wild lady," or "Goodbye, Nymeria," And with a wink she was gone. She would return further down the line with her prey in hand.
Not only were she and Gendry eating well, but they had pelts and extra meat that they sold in villages under false names: Jasyn and Mercy Rivers, Rickard and Lyssa, Robin and Merry. Everyone praised "Jasyn" (or whatever Gendry's name that day) for his skill at hunting, and "Mercy" let them, as it was often valuable to be underestimated. The coin allowed them to hitch a few rides in wagons, bringing them more swiftly North until they were finally past the Twins. Then they took to the forest again to cross the closed border, past the river's end, past Greywater Watch. They were well and truly in The North.
It was colder here. Arya knew Gendry was not accustomed to the cold and resolved to buy them some warmer gear, as neither of them knew how to tan skins. Yes, it was colder, but Arya was more at ease, for if it was truly her siblings reigning at Winterfell, then she had escaped Lannister holdings and was back in her brother's kingdom. When Arya and her family had left The North, it had been all she'd known. She hadn't known it had suited her, or that she had loved it. These were facts she was realizing only now.
Early one night, Arya walked out of the woods to her husband, who was carrying their packs down the road. He tried not to look disappointed that she was empty-handed. She laughed. "Were you hoping I wouldn't come back?"
"No…no, I was hoping you might have killed something we could sell." His teeth chattered. "I was hoping to buy an extra blanket or a coat or, Gods, a night at an inn!"
She smiled. "I have something better."
"Better than a night at an inn?" She led him off the road to the body of a magnificent stag. "By The Seven, it's huge!"
"Big enough for a coat AND a night at an inn! I tried to get it as close to town as possible before I killed it," Arya said. "Now you'll have to do your part." Together, they managed to cut and tie some branches into a litter, drag the creature onto the structure, then pull it over the thin sheet of snow to the village. They arrived sweating.
"Well, my teeth aren't chattering," Gendry said, his chest heaving. The stag was the most impressive anyone in Moat Cailin had seen in years. They sold the antlers, meat and pelt and gained enough coin for warmer clothes, dinner, and a night at the Two Hawks Inn.
Within the hour, they happily tucked into their food, the first they'd had in far too long with any type of herbs or spices. They drank the local ale, which at first made Arya pull funny faces, but she grew accustomed to soon enough. Gendry looked at her over the top of his glass. They'd been on the road now for so many days that he'd lost count, yet he still hadn't grown accustomed to looking at her and seeing another face.
"I miss your face."
"Looks like someone's a bit too deep into his cups," she teased, rising to her feet and leading him by the hand. "I better take you to bed before you say something we'll both regret."
Back in the room, she bolted the door and slipped off her mask. They had procured a bit of hot water for bathing. They had never seen each other without small clothes before, but this was no time to tarry. They bathed as quickly as they could before the water cooled, then dried off before they could catch a chill. The couple lay wrapped in blankets before the fire, Arya's hair spread out to dry as quickly as possible.
"Gendry, you must be more careful."
"Really? I was just thinking I'm too careful."
With that, he kissed her, a kiss that led to more kisses and touches. Arya felt like a wild creature in his arms, thrashing and moaning, yet she felt no need to escape. There was nowhere else she wanted to be. She found that she'd been right about Gendry: he was the type of man the girls would have fought over. He was, for so many reasons, a man worth fighting for.
"That settles it," she said. "You really are my husband, now. You are stuck with me."
"To honor and protect all of my days," he said with a yawn. "You make good plans, 'Arry. Now go to sleep."
He pulled her close. She thought she would be unable to sleep, as they generally walked at night and slept all day, but the exhaustion of pulling the stag combined with the food in her stomach, the ale in her blood, the fire in the hearth and the delicious looseness of her limbs. She snuggled close to her husband and gave thanks to the Gods Old and New for giving her a man who knew when she needed to be wild and who might be able to draw her back when the wild threatened to overtake her. And they'd given her the skills to take care of her kind, gentle husband.
"To honor and protect all of my days," she replied and closed her eyes. Once again, she focused on his heartbeat and his breath and let them drift her off to sleep.