Winter Storm

Chapter 12 : Do You Think You're Strong Enough?

A seven-day later found Gendry in his forge, hammering at the delicate gauntlets he was making for Arya. He'd been sneakily taking note of the size of her hands over the past days since she'd arrived in his kingdom and he was pleased with how the gauntlets were shaping up. Beyond the forge a wild storm raged overhead. The kingdom had been abuzz with the activities that preluded every storm season. Storms were a common part of living in the Stormlands, but the time had come for the reinforcement of buildings and the extra precautions that needed to be taken in order for buildings and homes to survive the oncoming summer.

He'd finally managed to steal a few minutes to himself and he could think of no better use for his time than to be in his forge, working out his frustrations with life by wielding his hammer and creating something useful. Arya had been driving him mad since her arrival. He desired her fiercely; something that was made all the more frustrating given that she couldn't seem decide if she liked him or hated him. Just that morning he'd asked her to come along with him to oversee the rebuild of a farmhouse that had been burned by the bandits.

At first she'd seemed pleased and she'd even pitched in, helping out with the building despite the way the mason's seemed baffled by her assistance. Yet when he'd suggested they let the men do it while she helped him and some of the village children to round up the sheep out of the afternoon storm she'd seemed to take offense. Not to the idea of chasing sheep. She'd enjoyed that, he could tell. He suspected the children of the village had too. Laughing with her and playing. She'd even instigated a game of tag when the sheep had been dealt with.

Gendry didn't know what to make of her. He knew she was a valuable asset to him and that he wanted her for his wife more than ever. Even though she drove him nuts. He'd caught her swimming in Shipbreaker Bay earlier that afternoon. She'd gone down there dressed in a butchered dress she must've snagged from the castle laundry. At first he hadn't believed it was her until he'd seen Nymeria barking from the beach. The fishmongers along the bay had seemed intrigued by her, though fearful of Nymeria.

The children there too had been more than willing to play with her and she had somehow talked all twelve of them into swimming in the unusually calm bay with her for the better part of the day. Gendry had been surprised by that. He'd been shocked to see her dressed in so little, and to see her playing with a group of kids. It was unusual behaviour for a lady. For a girl at all really. His sisters never went swimming in the bay. They preferred to stay in the castle and do their sewing.

Gendry himself had been tempted to join the woman in the water, for it had been a disgustingly humid day in the prelude to the storm currently raging overhead. He'd refrained from doing so. It had been too intriguing to watch her swim and play with the fishmonger's kids.

"You ok with that?" his brother Edric had asked him, coming up beside Gendry on the battlements and squinting at Arya in the distance.

"Looks like fun," Gendry had shrugged at his brother, knowing from the lad's tone that he disapproved. Edric felt that women were supposed to maintain certain sensibilities. Sensibilities Arya certainly did not keep to. Edric felt women were for fucking and making babes and that was it. He might respect their mother and sisters, but he also thought them to be a nuisance. It was clear he disapproved of Arya too.

"You don't care that your wife is in a butchered dress playing with a bunch of kids in the bay? Mother's horrified with her behaviour; I heard her complaining to Father about it," Edric had told him before walking away.

Gendry didn't doubt it. His mother had been mildly impressed with how Arya had handled the mess with the Innkeeper's wife, but now the woman was put out that the three victims were so fond of Arya. In fact, everywhere he went the small folk of his kingdom had been whispering their thoughts about Arya. The children all adored her because she wasn't afraid to play with them and get a bit dirty. They liked that she didn't just treat them like they didn't matter or didn't exist the way so many highborn ladies did. Even some of his younger siblings had begun singing her praises.

The townsfolk too had been whispering about her. Not all of them were pleased with her. Some of them, particularly the older men, went on about how improper her behaviour was. Some of the women lamented the freedom she had, many of them clearly wishing they could be as brave as his little she-wolf. Others who had encountered her in some way were beginning to like her. He could tell. They liked that she treated them like people rather than like servants. They liked that she was learning all their names. She bought bread from Helga at her new shop every morning on her way out of the castle with Nymeria and she'd asked Bridy to be one of her handmaidens when it had been discovered the girl was with child.

If he was being honest, Gendry was surprised by how nice Arya Stark could be. She could also be as cold as a frost maiden and as vicious as a viper but she was surprisingly nice when she wasn't raging about something. And his people had noticed. Gendry had noticed too. She'd asked him to spar with her in the yard the day before yesterday when they'd had a free minute that didn't need to be spent overseeing something.

Gendry had been only too keen. She'd done something that morning to antagonise him, though Gendry couldn't recall now what it had been, and he'd been more than happy to take a few whacks at her with a wooden sword. Many of the folk in the yard had stopped to watch their future Lord and Lady do battle, some of them even cheering him and Arya on. His mother had looked on disapprovingly at that, but Gendry had ignored her.

It was no secret she was still smarting over the idea that she'd spent twenty years trying to hold this kingdom together and only just managing it. Her people weren't overly fond of her because of the way she'd been forced to handle things and Gendry knew she was put out that they were taking to Arya so willingly. Especially when she was nothing like the highborn Lady his mother wanted him to marry.

"Are you still working on those?" Arya's voice startled him and Gendry almost dropped his hammer on his foot when he jumped. He spun towards her quickly, hammer still raised and he tried not to gulp when he caught sight of her.

She was still dressed in the butchered remains of what had once been a blue cotton dress; the one she'd worn swimming. And it was still soaking wet, though whether that was from the sea or the rain, Gendry couldn't tell.

"What have I told you about running around all wet?" Gendry grumbled at her, unable to keep his eyes off her long bare legs where they stuck out the bottom of her dress.

"Don't even think about trying to manhandle me out of this," she cautioned, holding her hands up immediately as though to fend him off, "I'm naked underneath and there's enough talk getting around about us already."

Gendry cock went hard at the very idea.

"You'll catch your death running about in wet clothes," he told her.

"Don't be ridiculous, after how hot it was until the storm started there's no way I'll be getting sick," Arya told him and Gendry had to clench his fist to restrain himself when she sauntered closer. She was barefoot despite the metal shavings and splinters all over the floor, and she didn't seem to care that she was testing his sanity.

"You're going to get metal splinters in your feet," he found himself fussing, unable to resist the urge to lay down his hammer and scoop her up before she could do just that.

"You just wanted an excuse to touch me," she accused with a grin and Gendry was surprised when she didn't squirm to be let down. Instead she rested her elbows on his shoulders and tangled her damp hands into his dark hair. Gendry grinned.

"Maybe I did, but if anyone asks, it's because I'm protecting you from pain," he told her. He could feel the damp of her clothing seeping against his but he couldn't say he cared. Not when she looked so pleased about being held by him.

"Whatever you need them to believe," she laughed with him and Gendry wondered at her unusually good mood.

"Did you have fun swimming all day?" he asked her, carrying her towards a nearby bench when it became evident she didn't want metal in her feet any more than he did and didn't protest to be put down.

"It was fun. Have you swum in the bay?" she asked, her fingers still toying with the dark curls in his hair as though they fascinated her.

"Plenty of times. Though never with the fishmonger's kids. They seemed to enjoy themselves," he commented.

"I think they did too. They were nice. I told them to come by the castle tomorrow after the storms clear. The youngest girl, Ailie has a nasty wound on her hand from a fish hook that needs a Maester's attention."

Gendry marvelled at that. His mother was going to complain about having the Maester so busy with Arya's new friends every day.

"Your mother was looking for you earlier. She said there's been a raven from your sister. She's with child," Gendry informed her.

Arya paused in running her hands through his hair at that.

"She is?" Arya asked, "That will make her happy. Sansa's wanted babes of her own since we were little girls. Perhaps it will make her feel better about being married to a cripple too."

"She was unhappy to wed Willas?" Gendry asked, surprised to hear that. He'd assumed from everything he'd been told that she'd been very good about the whole thing.

"She would never admit to it," Arya told him, and Gendry was surprised when she hooked her feet around the back of his thighs after he sat her on his display bench, refusing to let him go back to hammering.

"What makes you think she was unhappy then?" Gendry asked, wondering how she knew.

"I grew up with her, listening to all the tales about how she would marry a gallant high lord or knight, someone handsome and regal to brag to all her friends about. She'll never admit aloud that she's disappointed he's crippled, but if she'd been offered the choice she'd have preferred to marry Loras Tyrell to Willas."

"Just because of his leg?" Gendry asked, "He's still a fine lord despite the injury."

"Of course he is," Arya told him, "But Sansa doesn't value a man for his ability to smoothly run a kingdom or tame beasts. She values them for their looks and for the great feats they achieve. She's rather shallow, to be honest. Having babes will distract her from her husband by being able to show off her children."

Gendry nodded thoughtfully.

"And you?" he asked, "Do you care if your husband can achieve great feats on a battlefield?"

She eyed him speculatively for a long minute in silence.

"You've already achieved great battle feats," she shrugged finally and Gendry felt the air leave his chest in a rush.

"Did you just call me your husband?" he wanted to know, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Have you changed you mind about wanting to marry me?" she asked him, holding his gaze steadily. Gendry caught the flicker of self-doubt in her grey eyes as she said it and he realised there was far more to Arya Stark than he'd expected.

"No, I'm just surprised to hear you say it," he admitted, "I thought you still wanted me to pass all your tests."

"You'll never pass all my tests Gendry," she laughed suddenly.

"And you've decided to marry me anyway?" Gendry asked, hating how hopeful he sounded.

"Don't let it go to your head," she cautioned, "As you pointed out I have to marry someone and I've been here a week without trying to kill you. That's probably as good as I can hope for."

"Gee thanks, Stark," Gendry scoffed, mildly offended by her words, "You really know how to make a man feel special."

"Since that was probably the nicest thing I've ever said to a man, you'd better hope it made you feel special," she retorted and Gendry suspected she was being serious.

Before he could think better of it or stop to consider the consequences of his actions, Gendry bent down and pressed his lips to hers hungrily. He'd been wanting to kiss her again since that first night when she'd arrived and the urge to do so could no longer be repressed. He smirked against her lips when she opened to him immediately, her tongue flicking out to tangle with his. Her hands tangled back into his hair once more and Gendry fought the urge to have her right there in the forge.

When he drew a needy little whimper from her, Gendry almost came undone. Scooping her back up off the bench and into his arms, he groped blindly for the door of the forge, closing it with a bang before he pressed her against it. When she wrapped those long legs of hers around his waist, her ankles locking at the small of his back, Gendry realised she might've been wanting to kiss him almost as much as he'd wanted to kiss her. Just as she had last time, she clawed at him, though whether it was in protest or in a silent command for more he couldn't be sure.

Her breathing was ragged when he broke away from her lips, kissing along the length of her jaw before nuzzling into her neck. Subconsciously he was aware that he was grinding his throbbing cock against the apex of her thighs, but if she minded she didn't say so. Gods, but her body felt so good against his. She mewled when he found a sensitive spot just below her ear and tormented it with his lips and tongue. Dimly he was aware that one of his hands had travelled to her arse, gripping the bare flesh tightly where her butchered dress had ridden up.

She hadn't been lying about being naked underneath.

She jumped when his hand skimmed over the slick flesh of her cunt and Gendry pulled back from kissing her neck to meet her wide-eyed gaze. She looked startled at the touch but she voiced no objections when he did it again. When she bit her bottom lip on another needy mewl Gendry felt a feral smile curl across his face. She wanted it as much as he did, she just didn't know how to say so without sounding like a whore.

Burrowing one long finger into her tight passage Gendry almost groaned at the tight wet heat of her body gripping him. Her legs tightened around his hips and she made a little noise of surprised distress. Gendry grinned when he realised she didn't know what to do with the things he was making her feel. He liked that. He liked that he was the first man laying a desiring hand on his wife.

Leaning into her, Gendry captured her lips again, kissing her soundly as he thrust his finger in and out of her. She was so tight that he knew she'd never had another man touch her. He also knew that he was going to have to be careful with her. Despite how much he wanted to fuck her, Gendry would refrain from bedding her until the night he wedded her. And when he did he was going to have to remember that he needed to take his time with her. She might be the toughest woman he knew but she was a tiny little thing.

She was so tight that Gendry's cock throbbed painfully and he hadn't even sheathed it inside her. When the time came that he would, Gendry feared she might snap it off.

"Argh!" she gasped, clutching at him needily and Gendry realised she was going insane with the new and alien sensations he was inspiring inside her.

"Shh," he hushed her, loving the noises he could draw from her but not wanting to besmirch her honour by having anyone know what he was doing to her until she was his wife. He nibbled her bottom lip hungrily, revelling in the feel of her pulling his hair and dragging her talons against his skin.

When she made another little noise of disquiet Gendry kissed her again, tangling his tongue with hers whilst slowly adding another finger to her tight little cunt. She went taut the minute he'd buried the second digit to the knuckle, her whole body bowing against his and Gendry felt the way her pelvic muscles began to flutter and spasm. Unable to resist the urge to do so, he curled his fingers inside her whilst grinding his thumb against the hard bud of nerves at the top of her slit.

He swallowed the scream she emitted, grateful when he heard thunder booming overhead to drown out the sound more effectively as she came hard. Leaving her to cling to him Gendry buried his free hand against his aching cock, burrowing it inside his britches and stroking the flesh until he felt his hand grow sticky. He leaned against her, breathing hard and Gendry realised idly that she was trembling with the release he'd inflicted upon her.

"What did you do to me?" she whispered as he lowered her to the ground. Gendry smirked, unable to form sentences to answer her yet. Instead he brought the fingers he'd had inside her cunt to his mouth, licking them clean of her release and groaning at the taste of her on his tongue. She tasted sweet and tangy. Salty from the sea she'd been swimming in most of the day.

When he opened his eyes she looked startled by his behaviour and Gendry laughed when she slowly took his other hand, still sticky with his own come. She brought it to her face slowly, her pink tongue poking out to taste the result and Gendry laughed when she made a disgusted face.

"Tastes awful," she said, spitting on the floor like no highborn lady ever would before wiping at her mouth in disgust. Gendry laughed harder at that.

"It's an acquired taste," he agreed, "It's not so bad when you have to work for it."

"It's disgusting," she informed him, looked utterly revolted and Gendry couldn't help but lean into her, kissing her lips again. She jerked away from him after a moment.

"You taste terrible now," she informed him, clearly tasting herself on his tongue and not liking it.

"Shut up and kiss me woman," Gendry told her, ignoring her feeble shove to keep him from kissing her. Wiping both hands on his britches to clean them Gendry tangled them in her messy dark hair once more, securing her mouth to his and kissing her until he had to come up for air.

Gods but he would never tire of kissing her. She began to squirm in his hold, clearly not liking the taste of herself but Gendry didn't stop kissing her until she bit his tongue in annoyance.

"Ow," he growled at her, jerking back to glare at her.

"Don't kiss me when your mouth tastes like my cunt, Baratheon," she snapped, looking angry and revolted.

"You love it," Gendry told her knowingly, suspecting she would have to get used to it. Because he certainly loved the taste of her and planned to sample her as often as he could get away with.

"You're an idiot," she told him, "Now get off me so I can go and pitch myself off the cliffs to avoid telling father I'll marry you."

"Never," he said, clutching her tighter, "You're mine, Stark."

"Not yet, I'm not," she challenged, "Now, what are you making? Who are these for?"

She shoved away from him and Gendry suspected she was a little embarrassed after letting him finger her. She didn't quite know how to act around him and he revelled in the sight of her so flustered.

"Pair of gauntlets," he told her evasively as he had done the last time she had asked him.

"You were working on these the last time I came in here too," she pointed out, as though surprised he was still working on them.

"I haven't had much of a chance to get in here, to be honest," Gendry answered, "Been busy with preparations for storm season."

"Does storm season mean it gets worse than this," she asked, waving her hand towards the outside world when the door to his forge was blown open now that he wasn't pressing her into it. Nymeria came trotting inside as soon as it did, looking perturbed about being left out in the rain.

"Storm season means that sometimes storms like this one will rage all day, for days at a time."

"How awful," she sighed, looking disgusted with the notion, "I miss the snow. There's nothing nicer than a summer snow in Winterfell."

"You miss it, don't you? Winterfell?" he asked her, watching the way she began to toy with one of the sword hilt's he'd been working on.

"I do," she admitted, "I miss my brothers. Sansa and I never really got along as children, but the boys always made up for it. It's strange going about my day without seeing them and teasing them. I miss sparring with Bran and Rickon in the yard. I miss discussing war tactics with Robb and Jon. I miss the smell of the castle after a snowfall. I miss the cold air burning in my lungs until it makes me cough if I run too hard. Not like here. Every breath I draw here feels like I've taken a liberal drink of water."

"The humidity isn't always this bad. It's just because it's coming up to the height of summer. In a month or two it will cool off again. The days are pleasant then, warm enough that you want to do things but not so warm that you break a sweat," Gendry assured her, watching the way she looked mildly nervous in his presence.

It intrigued him to see her look almost shy.

"I hate the heat," she complained, moving on from the sword hilt to toy with a breastplate he'd been working on for his father, "Is this for you?"

Gendry scoffed, "My gut's not that big yet, I hope?"

"It's for your father, isn't it?" she smirked, holding it up in front of herself. Gendry chuckled at the sight. When she held the shoulder-tops against her own small frame the plate reached mid-thigh on her.

"When he stopped drinking and whoring so much, he realised he'd outgrown the last one I made him. I told him he wouldn't get a new one unless he planned to keep the weight off," Gendry admitted.

"I'd heard he had a liking for drink," Arya admitted, "Though since our arrival I've not seen him drink as much as I'd expected."

"Having Ned here helps," Gendry admitted, "Father never got over the fact that he fell in love with the idea of marrying your Aunt Lyanna. When she chose to become the second wife of King Rhaegar, my father's rage and bitterness got the better of him. Since writing to your father about bringing you here he's actually cut back on the drinking and the whoring a lot."

"Hasn't made your mother any happier," she grumbled and Gendry smiled at her.

"It has actually."

"Gods she must've been a bitter old hag before then," Arya blurted out before glancing at him in concern when she realised she'd just insulted his mother.

"For a long time she's run this kingdom on her own. Father wasn't even really a figure-head. He was just an embarrassment to her. He was always drunk and he always dishonoured her by diddling every whore he could get his hands on, even in front of her. When I was young I didn't realise how hard it was for her, running the kingdom alone. Father wasted so much of the gold on wine and whores that she had to cut allowances that should've been afforded to the people. She had to tax them hard to keep the kingdom afloat. For a woman who'd never had any training or even any interest in running a kingdom, she did what she could."

"I didn't realise," Arya admitted and Gendry wondered if she would look at her differently the next time she saw his mother.

"Yes. On top of that she had to live with the embarrassment and horror of my father's bastards popping out all over the place. It hasn't been easy on her."

"No, I don't imagine it was," Arya said quietly, laying down the breastplate and climbing onto the bench so she could reach a shield he'd crafted, "I imagine it would've been a horrible time for her actually. I can't imagine the horror. I've heard tales of your father's bitterness over my Aunt's epic tale of love with King Rhaegar. I just never considered that some other poor highborn woman would be saddled with him. For a woman with no interest in running a kingdom, she's done a fair job of it."

"You sound…. As though you admire her a little?" Gendry pointed out, noticing that she did indeed suddenly sound like she now had a healthy respect for his mother, "I'm a little surprised by it. I know she's not easy to live with and I didn't expect to hear you sound like you thought she'd done a good job."

"I didn't realise how hard it might've been for her," Arya shrugged, glancing over at him while still standing on his work bench, "Not everyone is made for or interested in the tasks life throws at them. Prior to this conversation I'd been under the impression that she picked up some of the slack where she had to while your father stumbled his way through the rest. For a woman with no interest or knowledge regarding how to run a kingdom, she's done admirably."

"But you'd have done better," Gendry pointed out, not afraid to admit it was true.

"Perhaps, but I have an interest in it. I have spent years paying more attention to my brother's lessons on leadership and running a kingdom than I did to learning the useless words to silly love songs. I don't imagine your mother was ever a woman like me. She was like Sansa once, I suspect. The type of woman who dreamed of marrying a handsome Lord and bearing him strapping sons. I imagine when she was told she was to marry your father she thought her dreams were coming true. If he was as handsome in his youth as you are, I imagine she'd have been thrilled."

Gendry felt a prickle of fondness for her when she nonchalantly, almost distractedly, called him handsome.

"To then learn that he was a bitter, faithless drunk who dishonoured her at every turn and who was going to let his name and his kingdom fall into ruin, she'd have been devastated… I can't imagine how she's clung to sanity as well as she has. I'd have killed the man years ago if half the rumours I've heard of him are true."

"That's the second time I've seen you defend other women for their weaknesses," Gendry said quietly, "I admit, when we rescued Helga and her daughters I was surprised by your compassion."

"Why?" Arya asked, twirling the shield she was playing with, "You thought I was an insensitive bitch?"

"I thought you were of the opinion that in a situation like they were in, they should've done more to help themselves. I imagine that had you been put in that situation you'd have killed a good number of them before they managed to bind and gag you, let alone rape you," Gendry pointed out, knowing she would've fought tooth and nail and probably lost her life before she'd ended up like Helga and her daughters, "In all honesty I thought you would be more judgemental of their inability to fight back."

Arya held his gaze at that, lowering the shield.

"I know I seem that way," she told him quietly, "I don't mean to. I do think that everyone should do something to help themselves, no matter the situation. But I'm not stupid. Not everyone is a soldier, Gendry. I know that among the women of the Seven Kingdoms I'm the exception. I don't mean that in any way that's conceited…. I just…. If I was in that situation I would've died before it came to what Helga and her daughters endured. But I know not everyone is like that. Some people need to be protected. Some people need others to save them. Some people lead and some people follow. That is the way of the world. I don't mind being strong where others are weak."

"You don't shy away from the responsibility. That's why you were so angry about what happened to those women," Gendry nodded, watching her seriously as she climbed back down off the bench.

"I take my title seriously," Arya told him, "I know it doesn't seem like it with the way I've always demanded people not address me as a Lady but I'm beginning to see I was wrong to do that. Not because I don't still disdain the title but because I was doing it for the wrong reasons. I don't like being called 'my lady' because until recently I had always defined being a lady by my mother's definition and by my sister's definition. As being something pretty and simpering and in need of protection. I defined it as being the type of woman who sews and dances and relies on her husband to protect her. The type of woman like Sansa, excited over the idea of bearing children for her husband, even if he is a man she wouldn't have chosen were she given the chance to choose whomever she wanted."

Gendry paused in his shaping of the metal he was making to really look at her then.

"I realise now that I was wrong to think that's all it meant to be a Lady of high birth and I've realised what a fool I've been to so casually discard my title," Arya continued, "Being a highborn Lady is so much more than flowers and dresses and expectations. Being a lady means that when I command someone to do something, they do it. Out of fear or loyalty, either way, they do it. It means that where others are weak, my strength is demanded. When Helga and her girls were weak, it was my place to be strong. To get them out of that Inn despite their fear of so many men. It was my place to ensure they got the care they needed. In the past I've fought countless times with my mother about how I wanted the responsibility of running a castle without the tedium of having a husband to be taken seriously."

Gendry wondered if she was going to tell him she'd changed her mind about marrying him after all.

"And now you don't?" he asked when she paused.

"Now I think being a lady is about so much more than having to have a husband. Those women relied on me Gendry. Not on you or my father or yours. On me. And because of who I am, because I'm a Lady of the realm, people acted to help me when I demanded it of them. Being a Lady is about making sure that the people under my rule, under my care, are happy and safe. I see that now. I mean, I knew it in the past, but I'd always been told that the care of the kingdom would fall to my husband. I guess I just never paid attention before to all those little things that my Mother does that make Winterfell and the North a harmonious kingdom. I didn't see the things your mother has had to do to hold this kingdom together. It's not about wearing a stupid dress and simpering at the right lords. It's about taking responsibility for the lives of people who can't speak up for themselves with fear of retribution."

Gendry nodded his head seriously. They were things he'd always known for himself, and yet to have her say them; to hear her express them so simply, made Gendry really realise the responsibility that was being heaped on his shoulders. One day soon all the decisions of the Stormlands Kingdom would fall to him. Every person it in would be his responsibility to keep safe. And on that day Gendry would need a strong and capable wife at his side to help him make decisions and to tell him when he was being a fool.

And the only woman he wanted to even consider for the job was the scantily clad, still sodden little urchin sitting before him and looking at him with such earnest.

"Does this mean you're ready to marry me, Stark?" he asked, grinning though he was completely serious.

"Yes," she answered truthfully. Gendry kind of liked that she didn't smile at him over the notion or blush about it like a simpering little twit might have. He liked at she was utterly certain and undoubtedly serious about the idea, "Just tell me one thing, Baratheon?"

"What?" he asked, curious over what she wanted to know.

"Do you think you're strong enough for this?" she asked in a low voice, her solemn grey eyes fixed on his face as though she was on tenterhooks awaiting his answer.

"Do I look weak to you?" he asked, waving a hand at his powerfully built body.

"I'm not talking about physical strength Gendry," she shook her head slightly, "Being my husband isn't going to be easy. It's going to be really hard. So hard that you're going to think seriously about killing me. So hard that you're going to want to quit. I'm going to test every limit you have. Your patience will be sliced apart. Your honour will most likely take several hits on a daily basis. I'm not the type of woman who will just sit in your castle and do as I'm told. I'm not the type of woman who will take it lightly if you ride into battle and fuck some whore."

"I know that," Gendry answered her seriously.

"Do you?" she asked him, and Gendry sensed from her not anger, but earnestness. She truly wanted to know that he knew it. That he could handle it.

"I know it, Arya," he assured her.

"But are you sure? I need you to really be sure. I'm not easy to be with. I won't be easy to tolerate as a wife. I will challenge every decision you make if I think it's the wrong one. I will embarrass you in front of your people and other Lords and Ladies of the realm. It won't be done out of maliciousness or spite, but it will happen. This is who I am. I'm not going to wear a dress unless it's a really special occasion. If I feel like it I am going to swim in the bay, or ride off without an escort to go hunting or exploring on my own. I will say things that will make other highborn ladies cringe in horror and glare at me for my behaviour. Other lords will doubt your ability to even control your own wife at times. Can you handle that?"

"I…." Gendry began, frowning a little and looking away from her mesmerizing gaze, "I can handle it."

"If you can't this will fall apart Gendry. If you tell me now that you want to marry me because you don't think you can run this kingdom without someone like me, I will take you at your word. And I will hold you to it. If you say now that it's fine that I don't like wearing dresses or that I'll ride into battle alongside you if I deem it necessary and then later you lose your formidable temper with me over it, I will rip this marriage and this kingdom apart. Is that clear? You have to be one hundred percent certain that I'm the woman you want to marry. Don't tell me I am if you think I'm not. I won't be some pretty thing on your arm for the other lords to admire or to charm the other ladies. If that's what you need, then you should find a woman prettier and bustier than me. Unless you're sure I'm what you need, don't marry me."

Gendry lifted his blue eyes back to meet hers and he wondered suddenly if she was as scared as he was in that moment.

"Are you scared?" he asked her.

"Yes, I am," she admitted and her honesty struck a chord with Gendry that he hadn't realised he had, "I'm terrified. Marriage scares me. Being trapped in this place with you if I'm not what you want frightens me. I'm afraid that if I stay, I'll fall in love with you and I can't do it if you're going to turn out to be like everyone else, telling me to wear dresses and have manners and act like a fool. So don't do that to me, Baratheon. If you make me your wife, you better be damn sure I'm exactly what you want or I'll rip us both apart until there's nothing left. I don't say that with any kind of bravado or to make you think I'm trying to push you around. I mean it seriously. If you tell me now that you want to marry me, and later you realise you actually wanted a dutiful wife who only wants to bear your sons and shine your knob, we won't survive. I'll burn your castle to the ground with you in it and I'll flee the Seven Kingdoms forever."

Gendry knew she meant it and that she was utterly serious. He knew that this was his one chance to walk away from her. To leave her behind and marry a fool who would do as he told her, not as she pleased. This was his one chance to have a wife who wouldn't embarrass him or make him look any less a man by acting like an urchin.

And Gendry knew without a doubt that he was going to let that chance ride right on by him without batting an eye. In that moment he knew he wanted her. Completely knew. Not just because he'd never been so scared and so aroused in all his life, but because she was for real. She wasn't afraid to get serious with him. She wasn't afraid to discuss the heavy details with him. She wasn't afraid to admit that if she stayed, she would fall for him as hard as he already knew he was falling for her.

She wasn't going to shy away from him when things got tough. If she stayed Arya would be the most valuable asset in his life. She would tell him when he was making a cunt of himself. She would challenge him and push him in ways he couldn't even begin to imagine. And she would help him grow from the man he was to the Lord he needed to be. She would never shy away from shouldering responsibility within his kingdom. She was the type of woman he wanted at his back. The type who would kill for him if he needed it. Seven Hells, she already had killed for him. The very first day she'd arrived she'd showed him she had his back and would protect him from any foe she could.

Gendry was man enough that such a fact didn't emasculate him. It empowered him. He didn't need her protection, just as she didn't need his. But he wanted it. He wanted the protection of having her pull him into line if he stepped out. He wanted the security of knowing that if he rode off into battle and got himself killed, she would care for his kingdom with as much dedication as he would himself. He craved the fact that she would be the fight of his life at every turn and she'd make it worth every cursed minute.

He knew that if he married her, she would be his for life. Body and soul. Heart and mind. She would bleed for him. Kill for him. Even die for him. He knew in that moment that if he married her, she'd never look at another man. He'd never suffer the indignity of finding her in the arms of another. He also knew that if he married her, he'd never want to look for another woman. He'd never craved any woman like he craved her and the idea of belonging only to her until his dying breath was one that appealed to him in ways he couldn't express.

"I want you Arya Stark," he told her, holding her stern gaze and letting her see from his expression that he was completely sure, "I want you. No one else. Warts and all."

"Warts?" she asked, wrinkling her nose and looking horrified, "I don't have warts!"

Gendry began to laugh. A deep, full-bellied laugh bubbled up from inside him and it came out in a roar of mirth that made her jump.

"Good to know," he told her, laughing as he moved across the forge and lifted her against his chest, "But I meant that no matter what you throw at me, I'll handle it. As long as you know you have to do the same. I have a horrible temper, and I brood in my forge when I'm thinking something through. That alright?"

She nodded her head, her hands tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck.

"Then there's just one more thing I need from you before we can announce our betrothal," Gendry told her, carrying her out of his forge before setting her down so she could walk on her own, knowing she wouldn't let him carry her for long.

"What's that?" she asked curiously.

"Let me show you."

A/N: CLIFFHANGER! Sorry, I know everyone hates and loves cliffies in equal measure, but I couldn't resist. Also, I'm sorry for the long wait on this update. I wasn't sure if I wanted to get to everything so soon but when I tried making all this hold off for a bit longer, things got messy. But it's a nice big 7.5k + chapter so that has to count for something, right? I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I have the next one pre-written too, so it shouldn't be too long before I update again. Much love to you all and don't forget to review. xx-Kitten.