AN: Thanks for all the new comments, "Follows" and "Favorites." I agree that we need some special Gendry/Arya moments soon. I just didn't want to breeze past the reunion scenes too quickly. Hmm...I'll work on it. In the meantime, please enjoy!
"Must you call my sister 'Arry'?" Sansa asked Gendry over breakfast. Her nose wrinkled in distaste, "It's a boy's name."
Jon just laughed.
"That's what she was calling herself years ago when we first met," Gendry replied.
"First met?" Sansa asked. "I thought you met not long before coming to Winterfell."
"You didn't tell her?" Gendry asked.
"We didn't get to that part," Arya said with a shrug. She explained how she'd escaped Kings Landing disguised as a boy, and how one day the Gold Cloaks had come. She'd been sure they were after her, but they were actually after Gendry as a possible claimant to the throne.
"Gendry asked why they were after me: 'Did you kill someone, or is it just because you're a girl?'"
"She said, 'I'm not a girl,' but with her eyes so wide—she'd never looked more like a girl. I asked, 'Do you think I'm as stupid as the rest of them?' and she said, 'Stupider.'" Gendry started to laugh, and the Starks joined in. "But she just kept insisting she was a girl."
Arya's eyes twinkled with mischief. "And he said, 'Pull your cock out and take a piss, then!'"
Sansa gasped and asked, "What did you do?"
"I told him who I was. He reacted like you just now, sputtering about how he'd shouldn't have been talking about cocks or pissing in front of me, and said, 'I should be calling you milady.'"
Gendry jumped in, "And then, sounding like a queen, she commanded, 'Do not call me milady!' So I agreed: 'As milady commands.' And she shoved me on my arse in the dirt." Gendry guffawed.
"Arya!" Sansa chided, again they all had to laugh, and it felt good to be in a safe, warm room ringing with laughter.
They told more stories— the sad story of their parting, the dark story of the torture at Harrenhall and the mysterious tale of their escape. Sansa marveled at the idea of a man who could change his face, but not much surprised Jon anymore. That is, until he learned that his sister could change her face.
"So I see this girl on the bridge, and I feel like I know her, but I don't know why. Then this man with a stack of lumber on his shoulder turns real quick and I think she's about to get smacked off the bridge by that pile of boards, but she does this water-dancer move and ducks the boards completely. I run up, and she has a different face, but it's her. I know it's 'Arry." He paused and Arya gave Gendry a nod. "She said she ain't, but I remembered the man who could change his face. Then I caught sight of her sword, Needle, hanging from her waist and I was sure of it, so finally she gave up the game."
"Arya, you…you can change your face?" Sansa asked, astonished.
"It's how I killed the Freys," she admitted.
"You killed the Freys?" Jon asked. He'd been scrutinizing Arya for some time, but looked at her even more closely now.
Arya nodded. "And it's how I got here without being spotted."
"How do you do it?" Sansa asked.
"Trust me, Sansa, you don't really want to know."
"I do!" Sansa said. "It would be useful!"
"It's not just a spell," Arya said. "There's a price. Maybe I'll tell you more another day."
Sansa accepted the answer for the time being and told them of her time in disguise—how she'd dyed her hair and pretended to be someone else. She described her raven gown.
"Now that's a dress I'd like to see," Arya said, which made Sansa smile.
The girls tried to get Jon to tell them about his time with the Wildlings, but he looked so sad that they stopped. He merely said, "The Free Folk are good at living in nature. They appreciate what they have. They don't have lords and ladies. They follow only who they choose to follow."
"And they chose to follow you south," Gendry noted.
Jon shrugged with a far-away look. "We have the same enemy."
"Then we should prepare," Arya said. "Come, we need to teach my husband to fight."
"Arya," Sansa chided, "You're a lady! Jon, tell her she can't go!"
"Sansa, Jon is the one who gave me my sword in the first place," Arya said. "Even father knew I wasn't going to be that kind of lady. That's why he got me a master of swords for my 'dancing lessons.'"
"That kind of lady?" Sansa asked, indignant. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Arya sighed. "Sansa, you said it yourself: I can't sit still long enough to sew or learn to play an instrument. I always say the wrong thing. Luckily, I found a husband who will put up with a wife like me and who can say the right thing."
"Do you expect me to sew, too?" Gendry asked.
"Can you?" Arya asked.
"No." He replied. "Well, I can sew well enough to fix a hole, but not pretty."
"Arya…"
"Sansa, you do very well as a lady, helping the family. Please, just let me help the family my way."
"Fine, but eventually one of you two will need to come to me so I can teach you how to take care of a holdfast! You'll need to know how to manage the stores of food, clothing and linens, and how to manage a household staff."
Arya smirked at her husband. "Duel you for it!"
"That's not a fair fight, and you know it!" Gendry complained.
"All the more reason for you to practice."
AN: Please take a moment to drop a line. The quicker I get comments, the quicker I get inspired and you get new chapters!