Chapter 12: Gendry

The first thing Gendry heard when he came into the house again was laughter. Daemon and Aurane were sitting in the kitchen with Roslin Frey, and she sounded gleeful.

"But besides that, though! I mean, I know he's a silly man. And gods know that Arya and Sansa don't have any patience for him. But he makes me smile, and he treats me well. So I can't really complain. Hello Gendry!" She beamed at him.

"You have a man in your life?" asked Gendry, dropping his messenger bag and pulling off his coat.

"Edmure Tully."

"The councilman?"

"Yes. He's been taking me out for about a month now and…well…" she blushed.

Gendry didn't know Roslin very well. She had become friends with Daemon and Aurane when she had been dating Robb, a friendship that they all seemed to have maintained for the simple reason that Robb had left Oldtown. But he did know her well enough to know that she only blushed when not bringing up explicit details about her sex life. He had learned that during one drunken evening when somehow Daemon had convinced all of them it would be a good idea to talk about first times. Roslin had been so horrified at the conversation that she had taken five shots in twenty minutes and (a testament to her liver) was still upright to tell the story of her first time with Robb. Her face had been practically purple from her embarrassment and the alcohol.

"Good for you," smiled Gendry.

"Thanks. I'm really happy," smiled Roslin, her face still red.

"If you're happy with Tully, can you convince your dad to stop being an arse to us now? He is threatening to raise the rent on us because of Ghost, which is complete shit given that Grey Wind was here for three years without an added rent and he was louder and harder to manage than Ghost," whined Daemon.

Roslin sighed. "I can try. He really sees red when it comes to Starks these days. Even if Jon isn't fully a Stark…"

"How come he's letting you live with two of them then?" demanded Aurane, popping a cookie into his mouth. "Seems to me he's the kind of cunt that would kick them out just to spite Robb." He raised his hands defensively. "I'm not saying that Robb doesn't deserve some kind of something for what happened between the two of you. Just that—"

"My dad's malicious like that? Yeah, I know."

"Good, because it's rough pretending he's not," grinned Aurane.

"Like you've ever been good at pretending anything," commented Daemon.

Gendry glanced over at them from the counter where he was beginning to put together his dinner. Aurane gave Daemon the finger.

"He's a filthy liar, this one," Aurane said loudly to Gendry, "I know. I've lived with him for years now."

"Yeah, sure," grumbled Daemon.

"Well." Roslin's voice rose in volume and the men looked back at her. "Sansa's thing happened before Robb…and he couldn't very well kick her out after what happened. And as long as I'm living there, it's my choice who lives with me. Unless he wants me to move into a little flat above Chataya's."

"Rebellious Roslin Frey," grinned Aurane in approval.

"I'm plenty rebellious!"

"What Aurane is trying to say," supplied Daemon, reaching for a cookie, "Is that he approves tremendously of everything that might cause your father harm, since Aurane finds your father to be a right pain in the orifice of your choice."

"Ass, I think," suggested Aurane.

"All right, a right pain in the ass. He thus approves of your attempts to show your father that you are your own boss, however that might manifest itself."

"Well, I told him last spring if he doesn't want me to live with them, I'm renting the little flat above Chataya's. And he hates them because they bought the coffee shop before he could. You should hear him go on about it. It's like they did him a personal insult."

"Remind me never to get on your dad's bad side," said Aurane, "Oh wait. I did that just by living with Robb last year. Silly me." He sighed. "D'you know, he calls the police on us if we have the stereo up too loud on a Saturday night."

"You're kidding." Roslin's eyes widened in shock.

"Nope. Not at all. I had Megga Tyrell over a few weeks ago, and we were listening to some music, and the cops showed up at around nine thirty. It was ridiculous."

Roslin shook her head and leaned it on her hands.

"I don't really know what to say. He's ridiculous. Maybe my dating Edmure will put him in his place. He hates old Hoster Tully, and probably doesn't like the idea of his one of his baby girls dating Hoster's only son."

"I imagine not."

"He probably just doesn't approve of all the extra-marital sex. I mean, look at him. He clearly gets it on all the time with your step-mums, Roslin—"

"Please, please, please don't make me think about that."

"But it's all intra-marital sex. He probably gets unbelievably angry at the concept of all the sex our fine young Aurane is having. And probably doesn't want Edmure Tully in your bed."

"Cheers, mate," winked Aurane.

"He does have a bastard, you know. Walder, he's called."

"Really? He should live with us," grinned Daemon.

"You wouldn't want to live with him." Roslin shuddered. "He's pretty nasty."

"Have any of you fed Ghost?" asked Gendry. The bowl that the great albino sheepdog used was empty.

"Not yet. He's outside playing with Arya, probably."

Gendry glanced out the window. Sure enough, Arya was wrestling a stick out of the dog's mouth, laughing as she did. A moment later, she pretended to throw it, and Ghost raced off towards the Bastard house, leaping over the stream between the two yards. Then, he stopped, cocked his head and turned back. Seeing that Arya still had the stick, he darted back towards her and knocked her over. She was laughing.

Gendry filled the bowl with kibble, replaced the water and turned back to his stir-fry.

As he turned the vegetables back and forth until he heard a scratch on the door. He opened it for Ghost who made his way over to the food bowl that Gendry had just filled.

"Hey, can I get some of that? I overslept." Jon had just come downstairs and was scratching Ghost behind the ears as he ate. He was watching Gendry stirring.

"Yeah. There's plenty."

"Cheers, mate." Jon yawned. "God I'm fucking tired. Late night shifts don't do well for me. At least, not when I can't sleep."

"Why can't you sleep?" Gendry asked, doling some of the stir-fry into a bowl for Jon, then dropping the rest into his own bowl.

"Well, I usually get back around five in the morning or so, and Professor Rayder put me on an analysis for the end of the semester with a nutjob who wakes up before dawn and goes to sleep before sunset. So I have to work with her then. And then, of course, I have to head to lecture and seminar and section and whatever else I've sworn to do when giving the bloody school my money."

"Can't you make her stay up a little later?"

"I tried that. She fell asleep halfway through. It would have been cute if I hadn't wanted scream at her."

"You're too nice, Jon Snow."

Jon sighed. "That's what people tell me." He smiled. "Maybe I should take lessons from Arya about how to not take shit from anyone. She's got it down to an art, she does."

"That she does."

Jon stretched and yawned again. "Fuck. I don't want to go to work tonight."

"We all must do things we do not wish to do. For me, it is grading papers. For you, it is staring at a wall. I'd swap, but I don't think I could pass for you, and I don't know if you would even want to touch the essays I have to grade tonight."

Jon laughed. "You're not that much taller than me. And I could probably get by just giving everyone a moderately average grade, couldn't I?"

"Fuck the curve!"

"Fuck the curve," Jon agreed. He finished his stir-fry, put his bowl in the sink, went to pat Ghost (who was now lying next to Roslin on the couch) and made his way to the front door.

Gendry did the dishes, went to shower, and then made himself his evening coffee. The snow-covered ground was ripped to pieces now that Ghost was here. The White Ravens in the elm tree were qorking louder than usual (he could hear it through his window) and the light in Arya's room was on.