Doorways

The next day, the two Stark girls were summoned to lunch with the queen. While they prepared, Catelyn sat by and admired the differences in her two daughters.

Sansa sat at her table, combing her hair lovingly and braiding it into delicate little, bright red strands. She was a perfectionist, and loved to find the beauty in things. Sansa was quiet, and loving and obedient. The thought of lunch with the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was an exciting prospect in her mind.

And then, there was Arya. Arya who's tough brown hair defied Catelyn's brush and sat happily only when it was free but could occasionally submit to a simply braid lining the girl's slender back. Her eyes could only roll at the prospect of a proper lunch without the discussion of swords or battles or bruises from the practice yard.

Catelyn tugged tightly on Arya's hair as she finished off her long brown braid. Arya whimpered slightly and smiled up at her mother, and Cat couldn't help but smile in return. She leant down over Arya's shoulder and spoke in her ear as she wound a strong piece of brown leather around the tip of the braid.

"You're going to behave yourself at lunch, hmm?" She said, tugging lightly on her hair. "You're going to smile, and curtsy, and you will be respectful towards the queen and whoever else she has invited to dine with you?" Cat knew the importance of this moment; that this was her first meeting with her future good-mother.

"Do I have to go?" Arya sighed.

Cat sighed in return, "Yes, Arya, you have to go. You should be pleased to be invited."

Arya's face scrunched up and contorted itself. "Why?" She asked, as if it was the most outrageous suggestion aver.

It was Sansa, from her poised perch a few feet away, who answered, "Because she's the queen of the seven kingdoms. She could have lunch with anyone, she could invite anyone to stay in her home and eat at her feasts and join her for tea and she chose us."

"I didn't chose her." Arya mumbled. Catelyn tied her hair and stepped back with a smile.

"Then you're an idiot." Sansa mumbled back.

Arya couldn't help but laugh at that. Then her thin fingers moved up to the crown of her hair and shook a few strands lose, causing Sansa to cringe and Catelyn to sigh loudly again and start the process over.

"Is it really just us two going to meet her?" Sansa asked as Cat walked them closer to the Queen's private quarters.

"I was not invited, and to my understanding Princess Myrcella is in her lessons until later this afternoon. It's just you two and the Queen."

Aray's hands reached under her skirts as she tried to scratch the itchy fabric and straighten out the breeches she'd hidden underneath.

"Why?" She asked, her nose scrunching unpleasantly. "What do we matter?" Her question was ignored.

They reached the outside and room and Catelyn wished them luck, though Arya couldn't understand all the fuss. What was the worst she could do? Choke on a lemon cake and embarrass Sansa? Forget to curtsy a third time in the presence of the great and majestical Queen?

As she stood there, with her sister, she stared at the tall doors before her. There was a scene etched into them: a forest full of lush plants with a pair of stags on one side and pair of lions on the other. The lions looked about ready to pounce.

"Please don't embarrass yourself." Sansa whispered, her eyes trained straight ahead.

Arya turned to look at her, "It'll be fine. You worry too much."

Sansa was silent, then she straightened her shoulder even more and glanced down at her sister, "And don't embarrass me either. You may not want to be here, but I do."

The doors cracked open and she could see Queen Cersei sitting at a table in front of them, waiting expectantly.

Suddenly, Arya felt a cold chill run through the room, though the curtains didn't shake with the wind. Gendry's words rang through her head, this castle was a cold, cold place.

Arya glanced around impatiently. She was feeling anxious already and they'd only made it through the first course, with two more making the painstakingly slow trek up from the Kitchens to Cersei's private rooms in the tower. She already felt she'd memorized every detail of the room, from the view out the window to the mountain of cushions lining the corner wall that she was sure no one had ever used.

She knew that Sansa was hiccuping constantly with nerves and that when she spoke her voice came out too hurried. The Queen could probably sense Sansa's nerves as easily as Arya; and whenever Sansa spoke Cersei would place her fingers on some small place on the table, usually her wine goblet, and shift it a few inches back and forth, setting it slightly out of place before correcting it immediately. Her thin fingers stayed on the stem of her glass with a deceptively soft grip.

Aside from a few forced courtesies, Arya had yet to speak. It wasn't like anyone seemed to mind. Sansa was the one who mattered here, she was the darling little Stark girl, she was the betrothed, she was the one who wanted to be sitting here, at this table, gushing over every demure breath the Queen condescending to take. And all Arya wanted was-

"And what about you, Arya?" The Queen asked.

Arya's eyes snapped up from the place settings and flickered instead between Cersei's green eyes to Sansa's frightened blue ones.

The problem was plain before them: Arya hadn't been listening. She'd been off, once again, in her own world. What bothered her now was that The Queen knew this, and yet had chosen to bring it to all their attention. Her own mother might've called her named until she snapped back to attention and then sighed. Her father would've let her keep on dreaming. But not Queen Cersei. And why? Just because she wore a crown and she could? Because she had the power to-

The Queen smiled. "I remember being your age." She said it almost gently. "You must wish you could be just about anywhere else in the world right now."

Arya smiled and let her eyes flicker over to Sansa once more, her poor sister was pale white and her mouth hung wide open in shock as Arya nodded an eager response.

"Come here." Cersei said, standing up and leading her over to the balcony. "You'd rather be out there," She said, gesturing to King's Landing. Arya almost replied with the truth, but for once thought it better to remain silent. "Practicing in the yard, exploring the city, climbing it's walls." Cersei smiled to herself.

While Arya looked out over the city, the fire in her belly igniting and making her eager to run, Cersei watched. She already knew a little about the younger Stark girl before her arrival, most of which could be confirmed on sight: She was wild, unruly, and bore a certain resemblance, in a sentimental mind, to another Stark girl from years past. Though that wasn't the only face from the past she reminded her of. And it filled her with a strange mix of nostalgia and bitter resentment that this girl could stand before her so hopeful, and that she would get what she wanted. In fact, that it would be Cersei herself that would give it to her.

"Go." She said. Arya couldn't believe what she said until Queen Cersei placed her hands on her shoulders and repeated herself. "Go. You want to be here about as much as I do, and you've put in enough of an appearance for now." With a little push she sent Arya off towards the door.

She did her best to ignore the look of shock on her sister's face as she happily made her way to the door. She was stopped as her hand hovered over the handle. "We'll see you tonight at the banquet of course." Arya turned around and managed her best smile, it fell short as usual. But the Queen wasn't looking. Her eyes were already trained back on Sansa. Her hand was already wrapped around the stem of her glass. "Until then, your sister and I have some matters to discuss."

Arya ran down the halls as and hummed down the halls of the Red Keep. It was there that she ran into Gendry.

"Where are you going so fast?" He smiled as Arya skidded to a halt around him.

"I was released early from lunch early. The Queen just let me leave." She smiled.

Gendry nodded, "Well, that either means you did something very wrong or very, very right."

Arya shrugged her shoulders as they continued to walk down the corridor, "I don't think I care which it is." She said. The sun was warm and shining, the day was still just beginning. She wanted to get out there before someone realized she had yet to be wrangled in. "Let's go somewhere." She said to him. "Show me somewhere else, somewhere new."

She noticed how Gendry's smile grew. "Alright," He said. "I've got a good place, come on."

He led her back to the Great Hall, where they'd gone on their way to the Dragon Skulls, down the same dark, winding staircase to the tunnels underneath the Keep.

"I wanted to go somewhere new." Arya complained.

She felt Gendry turn to her in the darkness, though she couldn't see his face she could hear a smirk on his lips, "Have a little faith, we'll get there in a little while. It's a bit of a hike, but it's worth it."

The light hurt her eyes once she got outside. They'd been walking blindly through the tunnels for what felt like hours. Gendry was a few paces behind her and crashed right into her back, quickly mumbling an apology.

"Stupid Stag." She said. This time the name came with a smile.

"Alright," Arya admitted as she stared out at the Red Keep, it seemed like it was miles and miles away. If she lifted up to fingers she could fit it right in between and crush it in her mighty claw. Out here, wherever here was, between the sea shore and the forest, everything felt cool. It was not an overheated wasteland like the city often felt. The air smelt fresh and clean, the colours were vibrant greens and pale blues. It was another world, it was like she was somewhere else entirely, like she had escaped. "This is pretty incredible."

"What was that?" Gendry asked.

"You heard me just fine." She grumbled. She climbed along the beach as Gendry perched himself on a large rock to watch her as she slipped off her muddy old boots and waded in, regretting the skirts she wore and weight they added as they fell into the water.

When she caught him staring she rolled her eyes and kicked some water at him.

She closed her eyes and let the sound of the water rush over her ears the same way it was now running through her toes. A child ran down her spine.

"You really want to be a blacksmith?" She asked, recalling their conversation in the godswood. Though the Red Keep was far away now, it didn't make it any easier to ignore the imposing nature of the castle. It hung over the city, it caught the eye from miles away and reminded everyone that inside sat the King of the Seven Kingdoms. And one day, it would seat Gendry.

"Yes. Though I know how unrealistic it is." He said, staring gultily at his hands as he spoke. "It's just that, I've seen my father's life, I've heard what people have to say about him and about his family. I don't want that. That's not me."

"I thought you loved your city? And your kingdom?" She asked, emphasizing the word and all the stupidity that surrounded it in her mind.

"I do. I really do." Gendry said. "But being King is so much more than that. It's politics. Conniving, evil, bullheaded politics. The people in there," He said, gesturing to the Keep, "They're crazy. My father, he ignores it all, or maybe he's just ignorant to it, I don't know. But if I wanted to do what he does, to be King, I'd have to be like him, or like them, and neither option is great."

"But it's what they want you to be?" She asked.

"Yeah, they do." He scoffed. "Them."

"And they want me to be a lady." She complained.

"You are a lady." Gendry said dumbly. The words left his lips and a pebble smacked against his head. "Ow!" He shouted.

"And you're the son of a king but you don't hear me bothering you about it." She shouted.

Gendry laughed and rubbed his head. "Actually that's exactly what I hear you doing. They want you to be a proper lady, you mean?" He clarified.

"Yeah. With long flowing skirts, and perfect posture and no personality." She said, lifting her skirts slightly as she spoke and letting the water splash in tendrils onto the sand.

"Best of luck to them." Gendry said, "You're a force to be reckoned with, that much I'm sure of."

"Thank you." Arya said, her head was ducked away but he could detect a hint of a smile. "I like to forget they exist." She whispered quietly. "As they are now. I like to remember how it used to be. I remember this time when I was young, my brother Robb used to call me a Young Pup, and he and Jon would let me follow them around the godswood while they played at hunting like my father's guardsmen. And back then mother and Sansa used to just laugh at me when I'd pretend I was a boy, and get my dresses caked in mud. Then I started getting older. They ruin everything."

Gendry nodded, "I used to come out here a lot too, also too often." He said. "They started noticing. But I miss it out here. From out here they can barely get to you."

They spent hours out there. Either rarely uttered a word. Arya played in the sand, letting it coat every inch of her wet skin. Eventually she was able to coax Gendry into the waves and dunk his head under completely. Then she lay out on the rock to dry off, to sleep in the sun like a cat, while he walked up and down the shore, pacing endlessly.

Arya smiled and twisted her head towards the sun in its new position in the sky, "I think I love it out here." She said out loud. Too loud. Her cheeks were blushing red when she turned and looked at Gendry and he was just nodding at her, a look of appreciation on his face.

"You'll love this too then." He said, nodding for her to follow before walking over to the edge of the forest. Arya tied her boots together and slung them over her shoulder, letting blades of cool grass stick to her wet feet as she followed. They walked through the woods until they reached a clearing. Then Gendry reached into the hollow of an old oak tree and pulled out a bow and quiver of arrows.

"You ever learn to shoot?" He asked as he fidgeting with the worn down string.

"A little." Arya said, taking it from his hands and puling the string around the bow till it was taut. "My brothers taught me," She pulled an arrow from the quiver and drew it in the bow, holding it tightly, as if ready to let it go, to let fly right over the trees. The she let her arm relax and passed it back to Gendry, a wicked smile on her face. "But I could always use the practice."

They returned later than they should have, earning a few suspicious glances from the stable hands, and those working late in kitchens, as they climbed back up to the hall.

There were voices echoing down the stairs as they climbed up and Arya heard Gendry curse under his breath. He went silent as they walked through the hall side by side. They found Lancel Lannister, drinking with two of his friends, and laughing hysterically at some joke unknown to the two of them. Their laughter slowly quelled and when they saw Gendry they nodded stiffly.

"Evening, your grace." They all said into their cups.

And they could've walked by with just that, if only Arya hadn't caught their attention.

"Well, well, well," One of the men said, getting up from the table "Could this be the famed, missing Stark girl?"

Another stumbled over drunkenly over to them.

"We thought you got swooped up by a Targaryen." Lancel joked. He seemed to be the only one who wasn't too deep in his cups. Arya looked up at him and found a cocky smirk on his face. He looked so young, and sickeningly pretty and it made her laugh to look at him and picture him trying to survive a winter in the North. His skin was smooth and pale but hers was tough as the seven hells.

"Nah," One of his companions said "This can't be the missing Stark girl. One the Northern girls was telling me about her." He leaned in real close to Arya. "They got a real special name for you, don't they?" He snarled.

Arya leaned away from him and grimaced, smelling the stench of wine on his breath.

"Come on." Gendry said, pushing past his Lannister cousin.

The end of the hall was only feet away when one words stopped them in their tracks.

"Horseface!"

Arya cursed under her breath. When she turned around Lancel had a smirk on his face as his friends were jumping excitedly around him.

"That's it!" One of them shouted. "Arya Horseface."

"And Underfoot." Lancel added, his eyes stayed glued to Gendry's back.

"Yeah, Underfoot, that one's good too."

"Playing around with the consolation prize?" Lancel asked Gendry, laughing at the look of confusion on Arya's face. She looked to Gendry, hoping for some kind of explanation, but his eyes were trained on the ground, black and small. Lancel failed to notice this and continued to taunt him. "You're no different than your father," Gendry's fingers wound into fists as Lancel sized up Arya. "Although I suppose she'd do, the castle's caves do get rather dark at night."

He turned to join in his friend's laughter and Arya contemplated taking the opportunity to kick him to the ground, rip her small knife from her boot and remind him that it was perfectly light up here, and she'd have no trouble slicing off his pretty blonde curls.

But her daydream was interrupted by Gendry, charging forward.

Arya hadn't so much as reached out to stop him before she heard the cracking sound of bones meeting and found the other two boys passed out on the floor of the hall. Gendry grabbed Lancel by the collar and walked him backwards, the young Lannister's feet danced in the air until his back met one of the pillars and his future king hoisted him higher.

"You think you're funny?" Gendry asked as Lancel squirmed and whimpered against the wall. "You think you're being clever, Lannister, picking on a lady? Our guest, the possible fut-" He stopped himself and dropped Lancel to the floor with a thud. "Don't ever talk to her again." He said.

"Or what?"

"Or next time we train in the practice yard my hammer might just slip when you call mercy." Gendry replied.

"Is that a threat?" Lancel asked, his confidence slowly careening around now that he was out of Gendry's grip.

"I don't need to threaten you, Lancel. I don't fear you." The prince leaned over him and grabbed his collar again. "But you should be very afraid, and I'll remind you of that from time to time, if need be." The he pulled his fist back and landed two quick punches to his jaw. With the strings of his long hair splayed over his eyes, he quickly resembled the Lannister sigil: crimson and gold.

Gendry spun around, grabbed Arya's hand, and stomped out of the room.

Once they were out in the night air, Arya pulled her hand away but continued to follow him.

"Gendry!" She shouted after him. He wasn't listening. "Gendry! Gendry, I'm talking to you!"

They both stopped when they saw Tyrion Lannister, perched on the steps leading down to the yard with a book clasped in his hand.

Arya hadn't seen the youngest son of Tywin Lannister. He'd failed to appear with the Lannisters the day they'd arrived in Winterfell and he'd remained evasive for the rest of the trip, never appearing before her siblings, except Jon, when he'd up and decided to take a trip to the Wall. She was surprised to find that now she, as a girl of only ten and four, stood taller than the dwarf. Although she felt foolish for feeling so. They did call him the Imp after all.

He waddled over to her and Gendry. "My oh my, nephew, how impolite of you to stomp away and ignore young Lady Stark when she's calling after you." He said calmly.

Arya could see that Gendry was still fuming but he kept his eyes cast low to the ground as he replied to his uncle.

"I wouldn't... I didn't mean to..." He sighed. Then he lifted his eyes a small bit higher to meet his uncle's. "I was just escorting Lady Arya to her room."

Tyrion nodded and turned to face her.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you, my lady." He said, offering her a small bow. Arya did her best to reciprocate the gesture but she herself was feeling angry and tired and as restless as Gendry. "You gave us quite the scare when you didn't appear with your family on the steps of the Red Keep."

"As did you." She replied, earning herself a cocked eyebrow and confused look from Tyrion. "When you didn't show up in Winterfell five years ago." He chuckled as he realized what she was referring to.

"Ah yes, I'm afraid, much like my young nephew here, I found myself confined to my bed on that day." He said. Gendry scoffed.

"I was deathly ill, uncle. I highly doubt that was your excuse." Gendry said, a hint of his usual smirk on his lips. Tyrion smiled at him.

"No, another type of sickness, I'm afraid." He said slyly, then he cleared his throat and straightened his short stance. "Now, take the young Lady Stark to the guest tower, I'm sure her father's already sent out his guards to be on the lookout, after her last daring escape."

The Imp offered another, awkward bow before walking away from the two of them. And then with a nod from Gendry, they took off in the opposite direction, at a much slower pace. He still wouldn't look at her though, they walked in silence, until they turned the corner. Then, reluctantly, he spoke.

"I'm sorry about-" But Gendry wasn't given the chance to finish his apology because the tip of Arya's elbow quickly came into contact with his stomach and he felt himself double over.

"Stupid stag." She said, walking on ahead of him. "I don't need you defending me."

Gendry laughed and straightened up. "Sorry my lady, only thought I was helping." He said, leaning a hand onto the nearby red brick wall, still attempting to regain his breath.

"Well I don't need you help." She huffed.

"Apologies, my lady." Gendry said with a smile, goading her on purpose. When he felt the first of her small punches landing on his chest he knew he'd succeeded.

"Do. Not. Call. Me. My. Lady." She said. Gendry laughed then reached out and grabbed her fists, holding them in his large, warm hands.

"What should I call you then?" He asked leaning in close to look her in the eye. He could see how it took no more than a second for her to go from being angry to completely caught off guard, and straight back to angry a moment later. She ripped her hands away and continued walking down the hall.

"Arya, or Arry... nothing else." She said.

"And what do they call you?" He asked behind her.

"You heard Lancel." She said.

"Arya Horseface, Arya Underfoot?" He asked, running to catch up to her.

She kept her head up and her eyes forward as she answered.

"It was Sansa's friend Jeyne who started it. When I was young. She thought she was terribly clever." She said, rolling her eyes. Then she stopped and swiveled to face him.

"I don't need to you to defend me. Put a sword in my hand and I can do it myself." She said.

"So why didn't you?" He asked She scoffed at him and continued walking.

"I'm not willing to waste my strength on another Lannister." She said.

"Another?" Gendry asked. The smirk returned once more. "So it's true then? You beat my brother senseless when he was in Winterfell?"

"Hardly." Arya said, rolling her eyes. "Joffrey has a gift for dramatic exaggeration."

Gendry nodded, "That he does." He said. He laughed at how she'd left the title off his brother's name. "You're incredible." He said it so candidly but she noticed. And then she stopped and turned around.

"Excuse me?" She said, not waiting for him to answer. "I'm not. I'm really not. That day, Nymeria, she attacked Joffrey. I had nothing to do with it."

"That's not why I said it." He stated simply. Truthfully, there were more reasons than he could count.

"I don't care why you said it." She said, her face was stern and her cheeks were red and cold.

"I know." Gendry said. They turned the corner while Arya bit her lip like she was trying to solve a complicated puzzle.

"Good." Was the word she settled on finally.

Gendry smiled and nodded, "I had a good day. I hope yours got better."

"It was good." She said.

"Good." He smiled.

"...Good." She echoed uncertainly, the smile slowly falling from her face.

She disappeared up the stairwell to her rooms. Gendry smiled to himself the whole way back to his.