Winter Storm

Chapter 10: Raiding Party

Gendry Baratheon glanced up at the rapidly clearly sky, the warm summer wind blowing away the morning storm. His destrier was saddled and ready to ride out. His father had been blustering all morning about the raiding party they would lead out to hunt the bandits that had been terrorising the Stormlands. Gendry couldn't say he wasn't keen to find them. He needed to channel his energy to something other than all of the things he'd like to do to Arya Stark.

He'd only known her a short while but already he could feel himself growing attached to her. He liked her spirit and her fearless attitude. He liked that she knew when to push her luck and when not to. That morning he'd seen her hesitate when his mother had suggested they both find dry clothes and he knew she'd been furious about the fact that she'd been scolded for coming to breakfast sopping wet when he hadn't. He'd seen the way she bit her tongue on her argument and simply followed him out of the hall.

After they'd all broken their fast, Lord Stark had told Arya he wanted to speak with her and Gendry didn't doubt the little she-wolf was going to be in even more trouble for her outburst at dinner the previous evening. Gendry hadn't really minded having her lose her temper, if he was honest. She'd said her piece and left him knowing what in seven hells her issues were, allowing him the chance to find ways around them. Of course, the entire incident paled in comparison to the memory of her half-naked in his forge and of her pressed against him, snogging him wildly.

He found it hard to maintain any kind of sternness when he'd tasted her sweet lips and felt her react to his touch. He had to have her. Even more so than he'd originally anticipated. He would kill to have her if it came to it, and Gendry was already beginning to question his sanity regarding what he would do should anyone try to take her from him. He barely knew the little urchin, but he wanted her badly. Not just because he wanted to fuck her either. He wanted to marry her. As much as anyone not keen on being wed at all could want to marry someone, he wanted Arya. He wanted to make her his wife. He wanted to be the only man she moaned for the way she'd done last night as he'd kissed her neck.

He wanted to watch her grow heavy with his sons and he wanted every snarl, snap and bite she would throw at him along the way. She intended to test him and Gendry wouldn't have it any other way. He'd been surprised when she'd let him walk her back to the castle from the cliffs. Surprised she hadn't tried to pull away from him sooner and pleased when he'd caught her blushing at the sight of him.

If she was blushing it meant she was thinking about the things he'd done to her the previous night and Gendry liked the idea of being in her thoughts. He hadn't seen her since Lord Stark had commanded her away for a private discussion, but he could just imagine that she would be furious by the time that talk was over. In all honesty he wouldn't mind avoiding her until she'd calmed down over it, if he was honest. He was much more interested in riding out in search of hooligans than in seeing her throw another tantrum.

If he watched her throw another one so soon he feared he might shove her against the nearest flat surface and have his way with her. Last night's kiss had taught him that it was a most effective way to distract the little urchin from her foul mood and a safer channel for her violence than having her go for her weapons.

"Ready to go?" his father asked, coming up beside him and looking more excited than he'd seen any grown man look about anything in a long time.

"Ready," Gendry nodded, grinning at the man.

"Tired of the she-wolf yet?" Robert asked him in a low tone, clearly curious about how he was taking the little bitch.

"If I see her again before we ride out I'm going to fuck her," Gendry admitted bluntly, knowing that of all people in the seven kingdoms, his father would understand that urge.

"She's grown to be wilder than Lyanna ever was," his father nodded, grinning widely and looking amused by his statement.

"She's wilder than anyone I've ever met," Gendry agreed, "And it makes my cock twitch."

Robert laughed out loud at that, his protruding stomach jiggling with mirth as he roared with laughter.

"Mount up then and we'll get out of here. I won't have your cock souring Ned's visit here until it's good and ready to be used," Robert told him and Gendry found himself laughing along with his father.

"You think she'll agree to marrying me, Father?" Gendry asked, swinging astride his destrier and glancing over to watch his father do the same.

"I thought when she hurled that dagger that you were done for. I can't predict what this one will do. She's got more wolf-blood than any Stark I've ever known. She's as like to tear you limb from limb as she is to curl up with you and sleep. Keep an eye on her son; she'll run for it the second she gets the chance," his father warned him and Gendry nodded seriously.

"I already threatened her that there's nowhere she can run that I won't find her. I'll have her, you wait and see," Gendry vowed sinisterly.

His attention was drawn to Ned Stark as the man strode out of the castle and accepted the reins to his white stallion stoically. His jaw and fists were clenched tightly and Gendry could only assume things hadn't gone well with Arya.

"How'd you go at leashing that she-wolf of a daughter Ned?" Robert asked, clearly noticing the man's tense posture.

Before Lord Stark could answer there was a commotion from within the stable and Gendry glanced over to see an obviously furious Arya Stark stalking through the stable angrily. She shoved a too-slow stable-boy out of her way roughly when the lad tried to approach, offering her assistance. Nymeria trotted imposingly at her heels even as she threw open the door to her mare's stable and disappeared inside it.

She appeared a few moments later, gripping the mare's bridle and leading the great grey beast out of the stall. As soon as she'd cleared the stable, Gendry watched his little urchin fist her hands in the mare's mane and swing astride bareback. She didn't bother with a saddle, and the ease to the movement suggested she had no need for stirrups. Dressed in dark britches, an oversized white shirt and a leather vest she looked positively ravishing astride the tall grey mare.

Gendry's cocked filled and began to ache when he watched the way she kicked the mare into action, the horse rearing up on her hind legs in the middle of the courtyard, a wild whinney leaving the beast. Arya didn't look even a little bit scared or surprised at the mare's behaviour. She also didn't seem to have need of a saddle to stay astride the horse. She simply gripped tightly with her legs, hands still fisted in the mare's mane. The horse had begun to gallop even before her two front hooves had touched the ground. She danced in place for a few death-defying moments and Gendry doubted he was the only one awestruck by Arya Stark.

The mare raced out of the courtyard with a clatter of hooves, her rider's long dark hair streaming behind her and a direwolf on her heels.

"She's making a break for Winterfell, milords! After her!" one of Lord Stark's men informed them seriously, sounding mildly panicked and Lord Stark glared after his daughter in fury over the notion.

"No she's not," Gendry heard himself says, watching the way she reined the mare towards the east, away from the North-bound King's Road, "She's just pissed off. Leave her be."

Ned Stark turned slowly towards him at that, clearly noting Gendry's relaxed posture astride his horse and his lack of concern over where Arya could be riding off too.

"What makes you so sure?" Ned wanted to know, narrowing his eyes. Gendry sensed the man was offering up a test of his own and he wondered how he would do.

"She turned east, for a start. And there's no way a woman like Arya makes a break for home bareback astride that mare. When she makes a break for it, the mare will be saddled and she'll be dressed for travelling North. She'll have a rucksack of food stashed somewhere too. She's not a fool. She won't ride so far without a saddle," Gendry shrugged, knowing the woman well enough already to know he spoke the truth. He didn't doubt that there would come a time when Arya would try to flee from Storm's End, but it wasn't going to be today.

"You'd be surprised at the insidious nature of my daughter, Gendry," Ned Stark told him quietly, "I wouldn't put it past her to ride back here shortly, retrieve those things and be on her way."

Gendry shrugged.

"If she does, I'll go after her."

"You're not worried about losing face as a lord to have your potential wife desert your castle?" Ned wanted to know, a gleam coming into his intelligent grey eyes at that.

"Not a bit," Gendry told him.

"You want to marry her?" Ned asked gruffly at that and Gendry nodded his head.

"Yep. You going to let me?" Gendry challenged quietly, making sure not to sound threatening, but making it clear he meant to. No matter what she did, he'd handle it.

"That's not up to me, son," Ned said, smiling wearily then, "She might need my permission to do so, but you've got to convince her first."

"Isn't it supposed to work the other way?" one of the stable boys who was listening in wanted to know.

"Not with Arya," the butcher Arya had thrown bread at that morning piped up, "The only way you'll tie her to you is to convince her it's in her best interest to marry you, Baratheon. If she ain't convinced and she has to go through with it, she'll slit your throat while you sleep."

~O~

Arya didn't know how long she'd been riding around the Stormlands by the time she decided to stop at a stream to cool off. The humidity had been rapidly climbing, making her skin sticky with sweat. She felt like every breath she drew sought to fill her lungs with water. She yearned for the lung-burning cold of the Northern air, not this wet, sticky, horrible air of the South.

She wanted to go home. She'd been missing home since they'd left, but after the discussion with her father, Arya didn't think she could yearn for home any harder. He'd lectured her about her outburst, once again growing stern and serious with her in a way he so rarely did at Winterfell. It had always been her mother trying to discipline her, shouting at her and grousing at her over her manners and her behaviour.

Arya could still hear his voice in her head as she slipped from Visenya's back. She could still hear him telling her that she was going to be stuck here in this disgustingly hot kingdom as Gendry Baratheon's wife. That she had caused an unnecessary spectacle and that she'd acted very immaturely. That she was expected to live with the people in this kingdom harmoniously. That she'd be lucky if Gendry didn't lose interest in her, leaving her to be stuck with some far less handsome and much more annoying lordling.

Arya had kept her mouth shut about the fact that he hadn't seemed to care, though she had mentioned Gendry's words about intending to marry her, no matter the tantrums she threw. Arya had also informed her father that she was painfully aware now of the things Gendry had pointed out.

That she knew if she refused she would end up shipped to some fool who would try to beat her into submission. That she would wind up dead herself for murdering her husband. She'd even pointed out that Gendry knew she planned to test him. She been completely honest with her father. She'd told him the truth. She didn't want to get married in the slightest, but she was beginning to see she would have little choice. She knew her lady-mother would insist upon seeing her wed, and soon.

She'd told her father that while he couldn't see it yet, she was coming to an agreement with Gendry Baratheon. Arya no longer doubted that she would marry the man, unless he failed one of her tests. But she wanted to properly test him first. She didn't want to rush into marrying the big idiot in case he turned out to be worse than whatever else she might end up with. Arya had heard terrible stories about women in the past who'd fallen for a Lord's charm only to be horrified when they learned he was not what he seemed. Arya planned to avoid being among them.

Her father had of course disapproved of the idea of her continuing to disgrace herself and the Stark's by extension with her outrageous antics and the discussion had deteriorated from there. Arya knew he was upset with her. In all honesty she was upset with him too. She'd put a lot of faith in her father to protect her from needing to marry for many years to come and she was still devastated that he was insisting that she ought to marry now. She was also furious that he kept trying to tell her to pretend to be something she was not.

She couldn't simper like a proper lady. She couldn't feign interest in sewing and dresses and hats. She couldn't pretend she wanted to learn how to dance or play an instrument. That just wasn't her. She wanted so much more out of life than to birth sons and eat lemon cakes whilst discussing realm gossip. Arya wanted to ride into battle and slay enemy armies. She wanted to run a castle effectively, ensuring that the people under her lordship were well-protected and content within her kingdom. She wanted to be a man.

Not in the sense that she wanted a cock. Just in the sense that she craved the freedom men were allowed. She wanted to be able to come to breakfast dripping wet and not be scolded for it. She wanted to be able to wear her britches and tunic without receiving pointed glares and without being whispered about. She wanted to be able to act in certain ways that were supposedly forbidden to women. To say what she liked and act how she pleased without fear of some man judging her a savage.

She just wanted to be free.

Arya had begun to wonder if being with Gendry would allow her that freedom. It certainly wouldn't if his mother had anything to say about it, but she wondered how Gendry would react to the notions. She hated herself a little for the fact that she'd begun to wonder about him at all. She was supposed to be unaffected by him, and yet she kept finding herself thinking of the way he'd kissed her. Arya didn't delude herself that she was beautiful like her sister or her mother. There were plenty of women in the Seven Kingdoms much more beautiful than her.

She was alright with that. From what she'd seen beauty was just another restriction for women. Pretty ladies weren't supposed to get their hands dirty. And yet, when Gendry had kissed her so roughly; when he'd looked at her with such lust-filled eyes, she'd felt beautiful. She hated him for that. She hated him for making her feel dainty and pretty and foolish. She hated him for making her wonder if he'd let her feel those things even whilst letting her be herself.

Arya was ashamed to say she found herself beginning to hope it would be so. She hoped he would want her. She hoped he would let her ride when she wanted to and swear if she felt like it. She hoped he wouldn't expect her to sew pretty things or wear silk dresses. Those things weren't for her. And yet she hoped that she might find in Gendry a man who was alright with that.

She was thinking about wading into a stream she'd found when Arya heard the first boisterous shout from away to her right. Nymeria flicked her ears in that direction and Arya decided to investigate. Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe it was the bandits she'd been hearing about since they arrived. Hitching Visenya to a nearby tree where the mare could graze and rest, Arya drew her weapons into her hands and snuck off towards the source of the noise.

The closer she drew, the more Arya realised she had in fact stumbled across the bandits. They had commandeered what looked to once have been an Inn, no doubt for the appeal of beds, ale and food. From their shouts she was able to discern that a scout had spotted the raiding party that Gendry, her father and Lord Baratheon were leading in search of them. Narrowing her eyes when she heard a shout to prepare to fight, Arya crept around the back of the Inn, rolling her eyes at the stupidity of these bandits that it was unguarded.

She wasn't fool enough to think she could sneak in there alone and slaughter them all, but she could certainly find a good vantage point to see how the ensuring battle would play out. Climbing up onto the thatched roof of the structure, Arya concealed herself behind a stone chimney where she could watch the fight. If the time came where she could become involved, she would. But for now she hid, hoping she wouldn't be mistaken for a lookout by the raiding party.

Arya rolled her eyes when the bandits within the building mounted an attack immediately, an archer creeping out of the building and firing in the direction of the Lords. Fools. If they'd been smart they could've played it up as being simple tavern going folk going about their business and the Lord might've gone on their way. By attacking first, they'd indicated who they were and guaranteed themselves a fight.

A volley of arrows reined down on the building from the army in return fire and Arya had to hide behind the chimney once more to avoid being hit. Being on horseback, Gendry's men had the advantage. They rode towards the Inn undaunted by the small volley of arrows fired at them, dodging them with ease. The bandits clearly were not marksmen. Arya watched in awe when she noticed Gendry swinging a Warhammer from one hand. Her father had drawn his sword and begun to charge the bandits, but it seemed less impressive than the huge war-hammer Gendry wielded.

He rode down a man who tried to run and Arya shuddered a little at the sickening crunch that could be heard when Gendry hit the bandit with his hammer, smashing open his skull and spilling blood and bone everywhere.

A savage cry of outrage drew her attention to the battle raging before the Inn and Arya narrowed her eyes on one of the men. Lost amid the chaos was a singular man with a crossbow, firing bolts at Gendry's men unchecked. When he turned the weapon on her father, Arya didn't even pause to consider her actions.

A dagger clenched in each fist, Arya took a running leap off the roof, right at the bowman, plummeting towards him and burying her daggers in his back.

~O~

Gendry had no idea where she came from, only that she was suddenly there. One moment he'd been reining his destrier towards a bowman killing off his men and the next a savage cry of rage had drawn his gaze skywards. She was clearly crazy. That much was obvious. She took a running leap off the roof of the Inn without even a pause of hesitation or a thought for herself. Gendry had seen the bowman aiming at Lord Stark and he didn't doubt his she-wolf had acted to protect her sire.

She was an awesome sight to behold as she leapt into the battle. Steel glinted unforgivingly in both of her hands, her long braid of dark hair flying behind her wildly as she plummeted towards the bowman fearlessly. She landed hard, burying her daggers in the man's back and ending his lie swiftly. He took the brunt of her fall, but Gendry's heart stopped when she disappeared amid the fray, rolling through the battle as she landed awkwardly.

Steering his horse through the fight, Gendry ended lives left and right in search of his future wife. He'd lost sight of her in the chaos and he found himself fearful she'd been hurt. His hammer smashed through bodies wetly, destroying lives as he searched for her.

He almost died when he finally caught sight of her again. Daggers still clutched in her hands, his woman was a lethal weapon of destruction. Her knives flashed in the midday sun as she sliced and diced at a group of three bandits who's surrounded her. His own men were distracted with the others and the three rascals had clearly seen her as an easy target. Gendry suspected they regretted it when she cut their throats.

She was as mesmerizing as she was deadly. Daggers flashing, blood spraying, braid whipping furiously as she spun, slashed and kicked out at her enemies, Gendry realised she was far more than just an urchin of a woman who didn't act like a lady. She was an effective killer with those blades and it struck him almost painfully.

Spurring his stallion forwards, Gendry's hammer took the head off the last of her opponents before she could deliver a deadly blow. She glared up at him in annoyance when he took the kill from her. He wondered if he ought to be concerned by his bloodthirsty mistress but he chose not to be. She barely blinked at the fact that he'd just beheaded a man with a hammer.

When he held the weapon out to her, she took hold of it firmly and let him haul her up on his horse in front of him.

"You alright?" he asked her. He wanted to check her for wounds and make sure she was fine. In fact he wanted to fuss over her and roar off after all who'd in any way even contributed to her being hurt by being there for the battle. But he didn't do it.

"You stole my kill," she complained rather than answering him and Gendry crossed his eyes in frustration. The woman was insane.

She was also bleeding. She had a nasty cut of the back of her right forearm and another across her left biceps; he was also fairly certain she'd twisted her ankle, but she wasn't about to admit it.

"I had my eye on him before you leapt off the roof," Gendry told her rather than chastising her recklessness.

"You knew I was about to stab him when you beheaded him," she argued hotly and Gendry suspected he might be in love. She didn't care. She'd watched him behead a man and she didn't care a bit. She wasn't fearful of him or concerned he might turn on her. She just wanted to fight over who had the right to kill the bastard.

"I'll let you take the next one," he promised, unable to hide his laughter at her bad mood. He spurred his horse after a fleeing group of bandits, noticing that Arya wasn't the slightest bit concerned that she would fall the long way to the ground from the back of his enormous steed.

He was still in the process of riding the men down when she flung one of those lethal daggers at the back of a retreating man. Gendry was impressed when he saw she'd thrown it at the back of his neck, severing the spine and causing the man to fall down dead instantly. And he almost had a heart attack when she suddenly wriggled in his grip before launching herself off the back of his horse once more.

"Seven Hells, woman!" he complained when she landed on the back of a fleeing man, her second dagger opening his throat almost gleefully.

"Shut up and get that one, would you?" she groused, nodding towards the third fleeing man who'd outrun her.

Gendry wanted to argue with her but he just spurred Spartan after the bandit and ended his pathetic little life. When the task was done he rode back towards his woman, finding her cleaning her blades on the filthy clothing of one of the slain. She looked completely at home amidst the gore and blood and Gendry felt his cock twitch again when she glanced at him with a bloodthirsty grin.

The rest of him men were disposing the last of the bandits and Gendry glanced around in search of his father. He rolled his eyes when he saw the man using his Warhammer like a club, rattling skulls. Ned Stark was cleaning his own blades and shaking his head good-naturedly at Robert.

Gendry dismounted when he noticed Arya wandering towards the Inn, clearly intent on going inside to make sure all the bandits had been taken care of. He followed after her quickly, hoping to the Gods that she wasn't going to be ambushed if she went inside.

"You hurt yourself leaping off that roof," he commented from behind her when he noticed her slight limp as she scanned the Inn and found the lower floor empty.

"Twisted my ankle a bit when I landed on that brute," she agreed and Gendry was surprised at her willingness to admit she was hurt.

"You'll know to plan you landing next time then, won't you?" he smirked at her, teasing her and he caught the way her eyes widened in surprise when he didn't chastise her recklessness or tell her not to do it again.

"He was aiming at my father," she shrugged, "I'd do it again without a second thought."

Gendry opened his mouth to reply, but she disappeared up the stairs of the Inn two at a time.

"Gendry!" she shouted suddenly from somewhere above him and Gendry felt his blood run cold. He wasn't the only one, judging by the way a stampede of booted feet could be heard as her father's men and several of his own men rushed into the Inn. Gendry was the first up the stairs and he raced to find his woman.

"Arya?" he called, searching for her and unable to find her.

"In here," she called quietly, and Gendry stomped towards the sound, her father on his heels.

His stomach turned at the sight before him when he entered the room.

Lying naked on the bed, bound and gagged, their eyes wide with terror, their bodies beaten, bruised and battered were three women. In a heartbeat he realised they were the Innkeeper's wife and daughters. The youngest one screamed at the sight of so many men pouring into the room, her eyes terrified.

"Stay back," Arya warned them, coming towards Gendry and her father with her hands held out to desist their entry into the room. When she was sure they would stay she went to the women.

"It's going to be ok," she murmured to the abused women softly, her voice taking on a tone he'd never heard from her before, "These are your lords. They're here to save you. I'm going to cut you free of these bonds, alright. Don't struggle."

She crooned to them as though they were little babes; as though she were trying to soothe a flighty steed. The Innkeep's wife was the first she freed and the woman sagged against the bed in relief, pulling the gag from her mouth and coughing loudly. Arya freed the daughters quickly, all of them curling in on themselves to hide their nakedness from him and his men.

"Do you have any clothing?" Arya asked them, reaching out lightly to take the hand of the Innkeep's wife.

"They burned everything, milady" the wife whispered hoarsely, "They came in the night. They killed my Charoli…. We have nothing. They burned our clothes when they tied us up."

"They're dead," Arya assured the fearful women, "We're here to help you. You're under the protection of your lords now. We'll see to it that you're all well taken care of."

Gendry felt his heart constrict in his chest at the tenderness in her tone. She'd surprised him. She sounded so comforting. So forgiving. So reassuring. Gendry might not know her well, but he'd already ascertained that Arya was a woman who valued independence and believed everyone should do whatever they could in order to survive. He'd been sure she would think these women weak for their tears and their brutalised forms.

"I need this," her voice was soft and Gendry blinked to find her in front of him, her fingers unfastening the ties on his cloak before she tugged it from his shoulders. Beside him, Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon were both already removing their own cloaks, which they handed to her hurriedly.

"Put these on until we can find you something better to wear," Arya crooned to the women, draping his cloak around the Innkeep's wife, "What are you names?"

"Thank you milady. My name's Helga, milday, and these are my daughter, Bromilda and Bridy," the Innkeeper's wife, Helga, told her quietly. Gendry noticed the way her daughters seemed to be in shock and the way they all kept eyeing the gathered men in the corridor and the doorway with fear.

"Everything's going to be alright now Helga, we've slain the bandits. You're safe."

"My husband…." Helga whispered brokenly.

"He's been avenged, Helga," Arya assured her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, "We'll see to it that you are fully cared for back at Storm's End."

She got up from the bed then and came towards him seriously.

"You need to have your men build a pier and burn the dead," she murmured to him, stopping directly in front of him, her head tilted back to hold his gaze seriously, "These women need care, and they're fearful of so many men after what's happened. The sight of so many dead will only upset the daughters even more."

"Right," Robert nodded, "Let's go lads, build a pier. We burn the dead. Gather any horses and supplies you can find. This Inn will be abandoned until it can be cleaned up and a new Innkeeper can be installed to run it."

"When you're ready, Helga," Arya said, turning away from him and back towards the battered women, "I'd like you to bring your daughters downstairs. We'll be on our way back to Storm's End soon. We haven't a Maester with us, but you will all be cared for properly once we arrive."

"What about the Inn?" Helga asked. She seemed to still have her wits about her, despite what she'd endured.

"The Inn will be taken over by someone of Lord Baratheon's appointment," Arya assured her.

"What will happen to us?" Helga asked, fearful to hear their livelihood would be given over to another.

"You're under your Lord's protection, Helga. You and your daughters will be cared for at the castle. I assume you're the cook here?"

"I am, though I prefer baking, if I'm honest milady," Helga admitted, nodding as she got to her feet. She clutched Gendry cloak about her naked body tightly.

"Then I'm sure we can see to it that we find you a little shop where you can bake your breads inside the castle walls. You needn't worry. We will protect you. You and your daughters will not go hungry or homeless. I can't bring back your husband, but everything else can be mended, I promise," Arya assured her.

Helga's lip trembled at the kindness in Arya's voice.

"And my girls? What if those… those…. What if my daughter's a pregnant now milday?" Helga asked fearfully.

"You will all be cared for Helga. I will personally see to it. If your daughters don't wish to become bakers like you, then we will find them something they would like to do. If they are with child, a Maester will oversee their care for their pregnancy and the realm will provide for them. What has happened here to the three of you was a failing on your Lord's behalf and you will be fully compensated for that."

All three women burst into tears then, Helga falling against Arya brokenly, sobbing softly.

"Thank you milady," she managed between sobs, "Thank you."