Title: How to Care for Small, Wild Creatures

Summary: Gendry uses a 'how-to' book to help him gain Arya's affections. Unfortunately, things don't go exactly as planned…

'italics' – Gendry's thoughts

A/N: Thank you everyone for all the kind support, reviews and follows Game of Thrones is quickly about to come to an end, but no matter what, Gendrya will always be my ship. Gendry, you stupid bull, you better go and follow her around the world!

Books that included pictures, Gendry determined, are the best kinds.

Who needs words when you can have pictures? Gendry thought perceptibly, as he sat back into his pillows, flipping to the next page of his book. He had painstakingly gotten through the first few pages of the book within the last couple of nights, dedicating some time before bed to practice his reading skills until the last of his candle would burn out (no thanks to Davos's gab of 'you really think anyone would want to marry an uneducated, stubborn lord?'). The first few pages were simple yet challenging enough; he soon learned that the book that Davo had given him was rudimentary level material (probably meant for lower-educated help), and now that the chapters were beginning, the text graciously included pictures.

Gendry turned the page, only to have his eyes directly transfix on an image of a little squirrel that done the page. The squirrel was small thing but had a big, bushy tail; its two cheeks were puffed out with presumably food and it was holding an acorn.

Arya once wore an acorn-covered dress, he thought fondly, reminiscing of that time where she all but tackled him to the ground for complimenting on her looking like a 'cute acorn tree.' Arya is quite small and cute as well… just like you, little squirrel.

The squirrel in the picture was also adorn with big, round eyes, and Gendry wouldn't help but chuckle to himself. An image of big, round steel-grey eyes invaded him mind and he looked on fondly at the book. "Should I call you Arya, the squirrel?" Silence. "Yes, you're right, that would be an insult to all squirrels everywhere, huh?" More silence. "Funny, human Arya wasn't much of a talker either."

There was a sudden knock at his door, and Gendry lowered his book. "Enter."

His bedroom door opened with a low creek, and in walked Davos, bowing slightly upon entrance. "You know, talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity, my lord."

His left eyebrow twitched slightly in annoyance. "What brings you so late?"

"My apologies, my lord, but a raven just came in with some news I thought you would want to hear right away." Gendry gave him a curious look. "You've been invited," Davos announced suspiciously slowly, walking over and handing a small raven scroll over to him, "to be present to witness the union of…(dramatic pause, much Davos?) Lady Stark (what?!) to her newly betrothed. It will in a fortnight after the next moon, in Winterfell."

That caught his attention and Gendry bolt strait up, grabbing the piece of paper from the man. His eyes quickly roamed the words, many he did not know yet and the ones he did were jumping right off the paper at him.

'Stark.'

'Wedding.'

'Winterfell.'

His mind started to race.

The last time he was at Winterfell, he was a bastard - a blacksmith bastard who didn't even know his own last name (quite literally; 'You are a RIVERS, not a WATERS – STUPID') for the Battle of the Undead. After the battle, he was naturalized as Lord Gendry Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End by orders of the Dragon Queen, in which he had gone off to drunkenly and hastily kneeled down before Arya to ask for her hand in marriage.

Yes, the last time he was at Winterfell, his heart was broken, and it was there those pieces still lied. Never before had he knew the meaning of 'a broken heart.' Until that very moment. I can practically hear the sounds of the string music strumming in the back of my mind right now, spreading out my gloom and misery, Gendry thought bitterly.

The room fell silent and his face screwed up in apprehension, trying to mind his foggy mind back to the task at hand. No way this can be referring to Arya, he thought hastily, almost in panicky. His eyes were transfixed on the first few lines of the scroll, trying to sound out the long strings to letters and vowels in his head for any indication of her name.

"…Lady S-sansa Stark? The wedding of Lady Sansa Stark?" He tried to keep his voice even but was failing miserably and Davos resisted from rolling his eyes.

"Yes, Lady Sansa Stark, my lord."

At that, the young lord let out a deep breath that he didn't even realized he was holding.

"Funny how helpful things would be if you could read properly, eh?"

It was Sansa. Not Arya.

Thank the Gods, it wasn't Arya. Gendry broke out into a smile wasn't sure if he could even face her again, he knew that he wouldn't be able to just sit back and watch her be claimed away by some stupid high-born lord.

I would kill the bastard myself first.

Davos knew that look on the young Baratheon's face. It was his Thinking-of-Arya look and knew that all sense of the outside world was very forgotten.

"Ignoring me once again, my lord?"

Of course, he was.

If she's going to be marrying any stupid high-born lord, it's going to be me, Gendry thought determinedly. Arya wasn't the only one that was notoriously stubborn. I'll show to her how relentlessly stubborn I can be.

This would mean that he would have to make the trip to Winterfell soon. Last time he checked (okay, fine, maybe more like stalked and harassed Sansa for answers), Arya wasn't in Winterfell after the Great War. Only Bran knew where she was, but kept that information hidden in respect for the savior of the realm. But surely, Arya would be present at her own sister's nuptials, wouldn't she?

He looked up at Davos and coughed, nervously.

"…You'll be coming with me, right?"

"What are you, two-and-ten?" Gendry shot him a dirty look, but Davos ignored it, turning to leave. "Man up."

Next chapter will be of the big reunion. Please review :)