CHAPTER 6:
He awoke the next morning feeling as irritated as he did when he fell asleep. Truth be told he hardly slept, her words haunted him the whole night. He had been called a bastard before, that was nothing new. The whole of his life that word clung to him just like it did the rest of the Fleabottom boys who only had a mother. To him, back then at least, it was nothing to be ashamed of. Just a fact you almost forgot.
It was resoundingly different now. He was a bastard; he will always be one-but now he was a bastard with noble lineage. When he had first known, really truly known who his father had been there was a spark of hope that ignited with in him. Hope that he wasn't just a nobody from Fleabottom. Hope that he was meant for more…worthy of more. His present circumstances, however, made the spark weaker. He realized sometime in his sleepless night that no on cared about bastard peasant boys, yet everyone openly disdained noble bastard boys. He felt smaller and those feelings of inadequacy then morphed into anger. He let that anger simmer with in him because he knew who deserved the wrath of it. How dare she! He never thought that word would come out of her mouth let alone take form on her lips.
The hurt he had felt when she had almost said it was quickly replaced by the shock of her audacity. Was not her precious King of a brother a bastard like him? At one point he convinced himself to stomp over to her chambers and call her a hypocrite for the whole castle to hear.
Was it because Ned Stark was a better man and father than his own had ever been? Did that make Jon Snow infinitely a better man than him?
Yes it did.
Jon was a King after all, and he was still only a blacksmith. He was foolish to think that being the bastard of a ridiculed King made him any better and for the first time since Davos came into the smithy to find him in King's Landing Gendry had doubts about ever leaving it.
A restless night meant for a restless morning. He tried hard not to fidget around too much with Beric soundly snoring on his own bed. So instead he watched as the morning light snuck its way into the room.
When the first morning bells rang all Gendry wanted to do was sulk back into bed, the rest be damned. That was not going to happen as the night before Sansa Stark had invited him and his companions to break their fast in her solar. The two wildlings Gromm and Lenn declined the offer. Gendry had thought perhaps the stark girl would find offence in their disregard to the invitation, but she had taken it in stride. She had then turned back to Beric and himself and informed them someone would fetch them at the appropriate time. No such declines on their part would be accepted, them being Westerosi men. At the time he didn't care and in fact had been delighted at the prospect of seeing Arya again. But now he longed for the leisurely rules the free folk abide to.
It was a small breakfast party, consisting of Beric, himself, Sansa Stark, a tall woman introduced to him as Brienne of Tarth, a northling girl by the name of Lyanna Mormont, Samwell Tarly- who Gendry had heard from through Jon and Bran Stark. Arya was no where in sight.
Bran Stark had a youthful face, but aged eyes. That was the only way Gendry could describe the young stark when they had met. He was polite and courteous, but he made no move to make a more intimate acquaintance with the rest of the party. The duration of the meal his eyes were trained on his food but from the corner of his eye Gendry could see that Bran's attention was to the conversation around the table. Every now and again if something interested Bran enough he would look up and give an opinion or two.
Samwell Tarly had a cheerier demeanor Gendry noticed. He was also quiet during the breakfast, although unlike Bran he seemed more nervous than uninterested. He ate his food heartedly and when Jon Snow's name would come up he would avoid looking at the others except for Bran.
Beric payed no mind to anyone really. He finished his meal earlier than everyone else and was grateful to Sansa Stark when she motioned her hand maiden to bring in a second serving.
Gendry himself was seated next to the young girl Lyanna Mormont and the seat to the right of him was vacant. He tried not to let the fact that she was not present deter him from enjoying his meal. Yet there was a smugness he couldn't shake off, good he had thought. Let her avoid me at least she knows she was in the wrong.
"Ey boy!" He was ripped away from his thoughts as he felt a piece of bacon hit his face and Beric smiling cheekily at him, "the lady asked you a question."
Gendry turned to Sansa Stark feeling heat rise up on his neck from embarrassment, "pardon my lady I did not hear you."
"I was just enquiring about your rooms and apologizing for the cramped space. The winter is getting colder, many a folk are seeking shelter within this keep and there are many more to come."
"Do not trouble yourself my lady. The room is better than I have ever had I am grateful."
"Of course," Sansa gave him a polite smile, "I am glad both of you are in comfort."
"Did you see the Night King as well then?" Lyanna Mormont was looking at him wearily.
"I did not and the longer I don't have to see him the better truth be told." He gave her a playful wink.
Lyanna's cheeks took a rosy tint, "What about the dragons then, have you seen them?"
"Yes I have my lady and what a sight they are. Beric here rode one."
"That I did," Beric chimed in, "and I woulda enjoyed it to were it not for the circumstances."
"Did Jon ride a dragon?" This time it was Sansa who spoke.
"Can't say that he did my Lady," Beric answered.
"Certainly the white walkers are no match for us if we have three dragons on our side." Samwell Tarly voice was timid but sure.
"That's what I thought as well," Gendry began, "but now we have two."
"Two?" Sansa Stark looked between the two men, "what has happened?"
"Forgive me my lady, I do not want to sour the meal and it was our intention to let you and of course the rest of the court made aware of the situation, alas young Gendry here could not contain himself I see." Beric raised his eyebrows at Gendry.
"Forgive me as well," Gendry began, "Beric is right, I did not mean to ruin the morning."
"I guarantee you my morning is not ruined Gendry Waters. If both of you want to discuss these matters in front of court so be it, but at least have the courtesy to expand on your statements to better understand them." Sansa placed her hands on her lap and waited for one of them to speak up.
"It was the Night King." Bran's voice startled everyone at the table. "He managed to kill one of the dragons." The levity in Bran's voice left no room for argument.
"How is that possible?" Brienne of Tarth asked.
When Beric nor Gendry answered Bran spoke out once more, "As winter covers Westeros the Night King becomes more formidable."
Gendry could not think of anything to say that would lighten the mood after that, though it did not matter. The door to the solar swung open and on the other side stood Arya Stark. She seemed to look everywhere except him.
"You're late." Sansa waved her over to the empty chair next to him, and Gendry was sure everyone could hear his heart pounding out of his chest.
Arya hesitated for a moment before walking over to the round table and taking her seat next to him. She managed to swivel her chair closer to Beric and Gendry's anger began to simmer once more. Was she that repulsed by him? The servants brought her a plate of food and she began to eat fast and full, perhaps to catch up to everyone else at the table who were almost done with their meals, though Gendry doubted it. She ate hunched over with one hand placed palmed down on the table and she looked absolutely wolfish. Like the predator who had finally caught a meal after weeks without one. It was a habit then, Gendry thought. Something she must have needed to do while she was roaming gods know where these past years.
She looked up from her food and looked around the table, "don't stop talking on my account then," she said with a full mouth and proceeded to eat more.
"We were actually talking about dragons," it was Bran who regaled the information and Gendry was amused by the way Arya perked up with a glint in her eyes.
"Well. Then in that case don't stop at all, what about them?"
"Apparently the Night King killed one of them," Sansa began, "and Beric rode one."
"Really! How was that then?" Arya almost smiled when she looked at Beric and Gendry realized that was the closest she had looked to the small wild girl he had traveled with on the King's Road.
"I was a bit out of sorts when it happened. Didn't think too much of it at the moment, but I remember feeling the warmth of it's body. S'pose it was cause it had spit fire not too long before."
"I've read that there is nothing hotter than dragon fire." Arya proclaimed.
"I reckon that's true then." Beric smiled back at her.
Arya's fascination with the dragons only brought back more memories of the young girl Gendry first met. The one who was steadfast and stubborn about making it home. Back to her family. Even though a lot of her kin was gone, Gendry was glad to know that Arya Stark did indeed make it home.
He watched as Arya and Beric had an animated conversation about the dragons, and about how her own direwolf was named after a dragon princess. Gendry was sure that she did not realize how passionate she became whilst talking, even with everyone else in the room. At the mention of direwolves Lyanna Mormont perked up and asked questions about the beasts. Here all the Starks were ready to supply answers about them. How they protected them, how large they became, how intelligent the creatures were.
"I've seen em myself," Beric announced, "headed north from the Riverlands I saw a whole large pack of them. We were lucky they weren't hunting."
"Did you see them as well Gendry?" Sansa asked. "When you traveled with the brotherhood?"
"I did not. Davos found me back in King's Landing, I didn't travel much with the brotherhood."
"Yes well that was a shame on our part lad." Beric said apologetically then looked at Arya, "we lost Gendry and lady Arya around the same time truth be told."
"That was when you went off with Sandor Clegane?" Sansa asked
Arya scoffed, "more like taken. Although it wasn't too bad by the end of it."
Gendry felt a rush of guilt, if he had listened to her in the first place and gone to Riverrun with her, the Hound wouldn't have taken her. He wouldn't have been sold off to that awful red witch. He and Arya could have been traveling together the whole time.
"Was that when you were found out as a girl then? When the Hound took you?" Sana asked.
Arya glanced at him briefly before answering, "not exactly."
"She did not bother with it then." Bran spoke plainly, she had been found out sooner.
It should have unnerved Gendry the way Bran Stark spoke about the a past he was not a part of, but he as too focused too see what Arya would respond to that. She did not say a word however. Instead she glared at her brother.
He wasn't the only one waiting for her to speak up. Gendry watched as she looked around the table and once again avoided his gaze.
"It was only at the beginning when I pretended. I thought I had everyone fooled…"
"Not me." Gendry couldn't help the smugness of his tone as he interrupted her.
Finally, she made eye contact with him. Gendry felt like he wanted to sigh in relief, her eyes were stormy and unfaltering. She did not look upset at his intrusion, nor did she seem any interested in him to begin with. Gendry was just grateful she acknowledged him at all. "When did you find out?" She asked.
"I knew the whole time of course." He proclaimed with a smirk and watched as Arya's eyes softened and her lips pursed slightly. He was positive that she had held back a smile.
There- in the brief moment where their eyes were locked, they did not notice how all other eyes on the table had watched their interaction. Beric simply chuckled into his cup. Sansa stark watched curiously, while the little northling girl rolled her eyes. Brienne was just as amused as Beric and Sam Tarly was slightly confused. Bran was the only one who looked blasé about the whole thing.
The moment was fleeting and Arya looked at her food once again, and for the rest of the meal concerning him, her disposition became frostier than the weather. If anyone else had noticed they did not say. When Sansa Stark dismissed everyone Gendry was the first to leave. Having been thoroughly disheartened by her behavior he decided he needed to vent his emotions physically.
Arya was the last one to leave the table, she wanted to give herself and Gendry as much space as possible. Her presence in the solar was a last minute impulse, she had decided the previous night that she would not attend. The embarrassment and shame mixed with her pride didn't allow her to face him so soon. But as the morning carried on she felt like a prisoner in her own chambers.
She was Arya Stark of Winterfell, she had no reason to cower in her own home. She was a survivor, faceless man, warrior. So what if they had a spat? She was trying to make a point to him, one he could not comprehend. If he truly wished to be part of this this ridiculous world with titles and royalty, he needed to learn how to act accordingly. She couldn't help him in that matter, that was something her sister would know. The more she thought about it the more she had realized that was what she feared most. They were no longer the same lost children wandering the King's Road. They had missed the part where they grew together. Now against all odds the gods had brought them together again and the Arya Stark she was now began to collide with the Arry she was back then.
Before he arrived, she had started to become more comfortable around her home again. She gained the respect of the Northerners not only as a lady and princess but as a fighter as well. She was the Stark who had seen the Titan of Bravos, who journeyed throughout Westeros. And to those she knew more intimately, she was the stark who avenged her mother and brother. But Gendry did not know all that and Arya was afraid what he would think of her once he found out. Would he be disgusted by her? Afraid of her, like Sansa was when they first reunited.
She was afraid for herself too. She had spent so long figuring out who she was now, that his presence threatened that. She no longer hit people on impulse or lashed out she was a creature of strategy, but Gendry derailed that every moment they were in the same room. Had the others taken notice? She could not let them, she couldn't morph back because that Arya was weak and stupid. Filled with childish fantasies.
"See you for supper then?" Sansa called out to her as she left the room.
"Sure." She moved quickly out of the solar and was headed back to her quarters when Lord Baelish passed her in the hall. He gave her a toothy smile, and her breakfast threatened to spill out at the sight of it.
Once Baelish was out of sight Arya decided to double back, she had been spying on him most chances she got. He wasn't alone very often and the company he sought out the most was with Sansa much to Arya's chagrin. She hardly listened to the conversations that were held between the two since most times they were out in the open. The two of them would walk together in the courtyard or the open halls of Winterfell, seen by many residents but the conversations were intimate enough that no one heard anything.
This was an opportunity for Arya, she hated to admit it, but she was very curious as to the relationship between Little Finger and her sister. Sansa had told her a lot of what happened to her when they were separated in the day of their father's execution. Although Arya knew that she had kept information to herself mush like she did too. They both weren't ready to share everything.
Arya stood as close as she could to the door which was still open. Sansa's private room and solar were connected in the same wing of Winterfell. There was one entrance to them and unless Sansa specified all guards stayed outside the main doors. She leaned against the stone wall and inched her head forward paying close attention to their conversation.
"…and you think it wise to leave the Vale so sparse of its own men?" It was Littlefinger's voice she heard first.
"In Jon's letter he has assured that the country is safe from the Lannisters."
"For now."
"Lord Baelish if you do not want to the perhaps…"
"Consider it done my dearest. Was that it then?"
"Why? Do you think there is more?"
There was a lull in the conversation before Littlefinger spoke once more, "How went your little meeting?"
"That's not what you want to ask me."
Arya felt queasy with the easiness of their manners. They spoke like they were life long chums.
"Alright," began Baelish, "can't blame me for being hurt. I thought at least I would be informed of it. I am disspointed."
"Lord Baelish," Sansa started more sternly, "these are Jon's friends. If you had been there they would not have been so open to conversation."
"Very clever Sansa." He whispered it to her like some sort of endearment.
"We can speak about what was said later, I have duties to attend to."
Arya snuck her way out before they realized she was there. She didn't know what to expect from their interaction but didn't fancy what she heard at all. What was Sansa playing at? Did she really trust Littlefinger? It did not escape Arya's notice that her sister had changed. She was still very much a lady, but now she held a wisdom Arya did not possess. About ruling, leading…plotting. It reminded her of the nobles of King's Landing and left a sour taste in her mouth.
Her plan had been to find Brienne of Tarth and release all her frustrations with needle. Surprisingly the weather had calmed and while there was a fresh layer of snow covering Winterfell the skies were clear and the winds barely a whisper. As she drew closer to the courtyard she could hear the commotion. She was on the balcony over looking the grounds. The very one her mother and father used to stand on when they overlooked their children playing war and hitting each other with wooden swords. Except for Sansa of course. She would sit quietly and dutifully on the side with a needle and point on her hand just as a lady should.
Brienne was already there. If she had felt Arya's presence she did not say for her attention was solely on the courtyard and Arya knew why. There was a circle of men gathered there and in the middle was Gendry and some other poor sap dueling. While the other soldier carried a sword, Gendry had his hammer. His opponent was a Northerner his tunic and sword made of the best fur for winter, thanks to Sansa no doubt. His jerkin sported the sigil of House Hornwood, the head of a moose on an orange field. Gendry on the other hand wore a sleepless tunic, whose brown leather was softening. He had no furs and his breeches were obviously southern made. The soldier was a green boy; his forms were wavering with each swing Gendry made. For one second the boy managed to the clash his weapon against the groove of Gendry's steel. A mistake on his part, what he had seen as an advantage turned sour when Gendry gave him a swift kick in the abdomen. The crowd around them cheered, some even going as far to clasping Gendry on the shoulder.
Arya couldn't help but feel a surge of pride go through her. Any question as to why was pushed down deep into her subconscious. She was taken back to Harenhall when Gendry had a sword of his own forging on his hand, swinging it around much like his opponent had today. Arya remembered chastising him not standing correctly, but also secretly admiring his strength. Was it just his strength? It had been his physic, a tiny voice whispered to her. She might not have admitted it back then; she was not damsel who was easily distracted by the ripple of a strong arm…he's strong, is what she had thought. Now, looking at him all she thought was he's gotten stronger.
Once the cheers subsided another opponent stepped forward. This time it was not a young inexperienced boy. It was a soldier from the Vale, he was older than Gendry and his stance was one of a man who had seen many a battle. Both men drew their weapons and began their dance.
"Give em hell Gendry!" One of the wildlings that had traveled with him shouted in support. Arya kept the longing to also shout for him at bay.
Hammer and sword clashed together as the men circled each other. Gendry made an attempt to swing his hammer underhand as to catch the soldier off guard but the man had anticipated his move and quickly raised his sword and trapped the hammer underneath it. It made a clink as it dug into the muddy ground, before Gendry could yank it out the other man had his sword at the base of his neck.
"Do you yield boy?"
"Yeah, I do." Gendry grumbled.
The soldier then held his hand out and the two shook hands. "Alright you sorry sods, stop starin' and pick up a sword!" The Vale soldier urged the rest of the crowd. One by one each paired off and soon began to train. Arya watched as Gendry went off toward the smithy, done with the sparring.
She didn't know how long she had been staring at the door of the smithy or that she was not the only one who was also staring at it. beside her Brienne of Tarth had also been entranced by Gendry Waters.
"He looks very much like a Baratheon." Brienne spoke quietly mostly to herself, but it was enough to break the spell Arya had been in.
She looked up at the blond woman, "what do you know about that?"
Brienne looked confused for a moment before responding. "Only what Lady Sansa has told me."
"Do all of you think it wise to casually call him a Baratheon when there is a Targaryen getting closer." Arya is visibly annoyed. She didn't mean to sound crass toward Brienne, but she could not help think about the ridiculousness of everyone around her. Their utter lack of decorum when it came to such a delicate matter. Granted Arya was never intrigued by political notions or the classifications of others, but it irked her how Gendry's parentage was a subject to discuss.
"I suppose I had not thought of that mayhaps it is something to discuss with your sister," answered Brienne earnestly.
"Thank you Brienne I think you are right." Arya began to make her way back into the corridors that lead inside the keep. There was much that was needed to be discussed with the Lady of Winterfell. Although as she began to climb up the winding stairwell she paused for a moment. There was something else she needed to do first. Without over thinking it she went down the stairwell and toward courtyard once more. The men were still exercising their skill, too focused to see Lady Arya walk past them. She walked hurriedly past them, set off in trepidation toward the smithy.
She hesitated once she arrived at its doors. But she would not be ruled by fear, she was Arya of House Stark after all and winter had arrived, wolves were not afraid in their element.
It must have been the creak of the door because Gendry was already looking at her when she entered as if he had been waiting for her all along. They stared at each other for a moment before he went back to his work, the room filled with the sound of metal vibrating off each other on stone.
"Was there something I could do for m'lady?" He didn't even bother looking at her again.
Arya sighed knowing the idiot was not going to make it easier on her. "Gendry, I wanted to apologize," she paused but he still kept hitting the steel, and not looking at her, "for last night that is. I wanted to make amends."
"No amends needed m'lday."
"You must know I did not mean it that way, I've never cared about that. It did not come out the way I intended. Please."
He looked at her this time, the hurt evident in his eyes, "it's fine Arya really. I know what I am. Whether you say it or not, someone else will."
"Who gives two shits what someone else says Gendry. I am talking about me. Arya. I never thought I'd see you again. But you are here in Winterfell, alive and well. War is coming for us all, forgive me."
Gendry scratches the back of his head, his sword-in-progress forgotten. "Will you forgive me as well then?"
"No. That is…you don't have anything to apologize for. Truly."
Gendry took a step toward her, looking her over and considering her words. Arya felt nervous all of a sudden. Nervous that he would never forgive her, nervous that he would not want her as a friend any longer. She wouldn't blame him if he decided that, she wasn't the same Arya he left with the brotherhood and of he couldn't accept that then there was no reason to pursue anything further. Yet, the mere thought of loosing Gendry made her heart ache. She'd rather go back to thinking he was dead than knowing he was alive and wanted nothing to do with her.
"of course I forgive you," he said in a serious tone, "my only condition is now I am allowed to call you 'my lady' whenever I want." With the end of that he was grinning wryly at her.
Arya couldn't help but to smile back at him, "is that really your condition? Wasted opportunity if you ask me."
"Oh? Did my lady have something better in mind?"
Arya could feel her cheeks take a rosy tint and was grateful for the dull light provided inside the smithy. Gendry inched closer to her, waiting for her response. In order to avoid the embarrassment of seeing her blush Arya began to walk too, circling around him. He was near the door and she near his work area, when she saw his hammer, "well how about a sparring partner?"
Gendry's eyebrows shot up, obviously intrigued with the notion. "Alright, I agree."
Arya's heart leaped in her chest.
"Choose your weapon then." Gendry placed his hands on his hips.
"What? Here? Now!" Arya wasn't sure if the jolt that passed through her body was shock or excitement.
"You any good with that thing?" Gendry motioned to her hip where needle was always strapped into.
"No," Arya held her head higher, "I'm great."
"Same one you've had since the King's road?"
"Of course." Instantly needle was taken out of it's sheath and into her firm grip. She took her stance and began to show off some of her favorite water dancing forms. Gendry watched her silently, and Arya was pleased to see that his smile never faltered.
She thought he would go for his hammer to begin the spar, instead he continued watching her. placing needle back in its place she walked over to his weapon. She feels his gaze on her as she traces the stag on the top of the handle, "I'm not sure my needle will be a match for your hammer though."
"I think so," he moved closer behind her, "it's smaller, lighter, and your quicker." He was close enough to reach for his war hammer. Arya chastised herself for the involuntary jolt that went through her when their fingers brushed against one another. Still she couldn't help but be flattered by his comment.
She waits a moment while he backed away before smiling and turning towards him, "Aye but it would only take one hard swing to the head with that."
Lifting his hammer Gendry offers it to her. Once it was tightly wound within her fingers he released but it quickly it fell to the ground with a hard thump.
"Seven hells how do you lift this!"
"Practice" He laughs and reaches for it, lifting it with ease and putting it to the side of him. Arya can't help but to roll her eyes at him.
Once more she reaches for, but this time with two arms, she found that she could lift it slightly easier that way. "I think this is heavier than me."
"I'm flattered you find me so strong my lady." He teases her and Arya is taken back, but this time to Acorn Hall where he mocked her yet complimented her on her for the hammer, their hands slide against one another Gendry places against one of the tables with his tools. Arya watched him curiously as he we to the wall to grab a sword. "Alright then, teach me something?"
"Well first of all one must stand side face." Arya assumes the position.
"Right. Can't forget that."
Arya smiles and lunges forward. She is impressed that he could block so many of her advances. When she glides her needle lower on purpose he takes the chance to strike, but Arya was ready for him. She had a notion that he would treat the sword like a hammer and he did. Before his weapon reached behind his head, Arya guides her weapon to the side of his ribcage and deposits just enough pressure for him to feel it and make him stop. "I win." She held her head up triumphantly.
"Do you?" He had the nerve to chuckle. The distraction of the sound of his laughter and her confusion why he would question her victory Arya is surprised when his hand went straight for her ribs in order to tickle her.
Not anticipating that move Arya's sword plopped to the ground and that is when his other hand came around to her other side. She hadn't been tickled since…well she couldn't remember, probably her mother had been the one in an era before King Robert intruded their home. She can't think of much except the feeling of his hands on her, the bursts of panic and joy that come with a tickle fit. She's laughing hard, she can't control and she does not want to. She can hear him laughing too, but it isn't fair she thinks, she should retaliate. Trying to aim for his own ribcage Arya stumbles forward, but Gendry catches her arm trapping her even further. They fall awkwardly to the ground and Arya seizes her opportunity. Kneeing him just enough so the grip on her hand loosened she aims for his underarms. He was right, she was quick. When he rolled over in an attempt to escape she heaved herself on top of him to this time trying to reach his neck. Now she was the one laughing at him while he tried half heartedly to get away from her.
When the mid day bells rang they were both laughing and gasping simultaneously side by side on the ground of the dirty smithy. Their weapons elsewhere.
Gendry stood first and offered his hand to help her stand which Arya accepted. He pulled a little too hard and she was lifter off the ground and into his personal space.
"So," she began-catching her breath- "same time tomorrow then sparring partner?"
"Whatever my lady wants." He smiled. She smiled back.
-END NOTES—well its been quite some time and for that I am sorry, I had about half of this chapter written and thought maybe to just publish it like that but I was determined to finish the whole way through. Anyway I am TRYING to get better about my time management with writing so of anyone out there is still remotely interested in this story bear with me! Hope you liked it!
On another side note, obviously this story follows the cannon of the television series but I couldn't help myself to also follow along some plot points of the books as well, such as Acorn hall which sadly never saw the light of day on screen! So yes this is 95% television with a dash here and there of asoiaf, it wont get too convoluted though!