On Ao3 you will find a chapter containing a graphical sex scene, Arya's very first time. It definitely doesn't fit into the rating system allowed here.
Also, I chopped off a few naughty words here. So in the 2 chapters before the last one (15 here, 16 on Ao3) there will be some missing paragraphs here.
Sandor
Her cheek rested on his chest. From time to time a tremor coursed through her, and he felt the muscles of her face shift into a smile. They were both still breathing heavily, but reality was creeping back in.
"I shouldn't have done that," he said.
"What?!"
Arya jumped off him and he half expected her to reach for her sword. She didn't cover her nakedness with her hands, and he could see the red patches left by his beard, and some purple ones on her neck where he had tasted her maybe too enthusiastically.
"Not that," he said, reaching out to pull her close again. "I should have definitely done that."
She didn't seem convinced and evaded his attempts. He sighed, and elaborated.
"I shouldn't have finished inside you."
He placed his palm flat under her belly button.
[...]
She put on her shirt. It was long enough to cover her mid-thigh. He should give her the breeches she had discarded on the floor, but she looked too appealing like that, only half dressed.
"It could happen?" she asked, looking up at him. "The first first time?
He laughed. "Yes. The first first time."
"Then why did you?"
She sounded genuinely curious. How could she know so much and so little at the same time?
"Didn't have much of a choice," he said.
"Because I was on top of you? I thought it was a pretty common position?"
"Common, ay? Based on what?" he asked, amused.
She flustered a little. "I went to brothels with some of my brothers from the Watch."
It was his turn to be curious. "How did you manage to keep your secret there?"
"I went into a room with a girl, and I made her swear not to tell anyone my secret-"
"You told a whore that you are a woman?"
"First: I was a girl, not a woman," she said tartly.
He laughed, delighted by her attention to this particular detail. He sat down on the bed, enjoying the pretend smugness on Arya's face.
"Second, be serious! Of course I lied. I told her that the reason I was sent to the Watch was that the Lord of my land caught me fooling around with his daughter and cut off my dick. But I was too ashamed and I didn't tell the others."
He gulped. Nope. He hadn't expected that.
"I don't know many lords who would do that," he said. "They might kill the boy, but castrate him…"
"Is that what you think the Warden of the North would do to you?" she asked, smiling sweetly. "Give you the gift a quick death?"
Fuck. What would Eddard Stark do to him if he found out he ruined his daughter?
"I told her I came from the Dreadfort," she said with a shrug.
"Roose Bolton has a daughter?" he asked, still wondering about his own dick and what Lord Stark would do to him.
"Who the fuck cares? What do most people know about House Bolton?"
He nodded. "Their House sigil."
"I'd say that a House that flays people might see dick-cutting as a mild form of punishment."
He pulled her to him and kissed her. He found the talk of dicks being cut quite disturbing, but not enough to curve his renewed desire for her. He growled when she sucked at his tongue, and nearly flipped her on her back. As soon as that wound healed properly, he was going to have her on her back until she demanded to be taken another way. Damn. He was getting hard again. She was probably still sore from her first time.
"To answer your question," he said, playing for time.
"What question?" she asked dazedly, nuzzling at his neck.
"Why I didn't pull out of you in time," he reminded her.
"Oh, that."
He tilted her head upwards. She was blushing. She'd ridden him like a stallion and now she was blushing.
"Yes. That. It felt so fucking good, I couldn't think straight. Didn't want to get out of your pussy. It hurt for you, but for me… It was the best fuck I ever had."
He kissed her again. More fiercely than before. He pulled her atop him and they lost track of time kissing.
Arya
She was getting the same restless feeling as before. The heat inside her was peppered with a vague stinging sensation. Desire whispered through her, louder and louder with each kiss. She felt his cock coming to life again.
She tried to wrap her fingers around it through the coarse fabric, but he removed her hand gently. He brought it to his mouth and kissed the heel of her palm.
"Not tonight, my lady," he said.
"'m not a lady," she said, her mouth busy learning the shape of his collarbone.
"You are my lady."
She raised her head hearing the soft, serious tone. As if embarrassed by that admission, he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss to which she answered with an unladylike enthusiasm.
She fell asleep in his arms, but when morning came, and she woke up with his hard cock pressing against her thigh, she made it clear that she wasn't backing down again.
They spent their days and nights in that cabin fucking as often as they could. Instead of calming down, their desire for each other kept growing, becoming more desperate the closer they got to their destination.
#
The day he asked her about the Night King was the worst. She had tried to put it out of her mind, not think about the end game, but she steeled her heart and kept the quiver out of her voice when she told him everything she knew about his target. Samwell Tarly knew probably the most. Sandor should talk to him when they got to Castle Black.
Castle Black brought up thoughts of Jon. She couldn't lie to Jon. She wouldn't lie to him. The rest of the Watch would know him as Jaqen, but Jon had to know the truth. She owed him too much to ever lie to him.
#
Visitors from the Westeros nobility were not a common sight, but if Tyrion Lannister could travel all the way to the Wall just to piss off the edge of the world, they could put up with a Lorathi traveler who wanted to see the Great Wall.
To Arya and Sandor's surprise, his appearance passed almost unnoticed in the tidal wave of changes that had taken over the Night's Watch.
In the few months since Arya had left Castle Black, Jon Snow had been elected Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, and one of the first things he did was to open the gates of Castle Black to Wildlings who were running from the White Walkers.
The second massive change was that he allowed the Free Folk to join the Night's Watch.
The men from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea were among the first in the Night's Watch who had heard reports of White Walkers, and the first to come face to face with them in their scouting missions in the North, and even they were not thrilled to fight side by side with the people whom they had hunted down and butchered before the threat of the undead arose.
Arya asked permission from the Maester to send a raven to the Lord Commander. She hadn't sent news to Castle Black from Westeros because she hadn't trusted that the ravens wouldn't be intercepted or killed. Maybe news of the deaths of ten Night's Watchmen had travelled all the way north, but Arya was sure that details about the White Cloaks who had killed them had not left King's Landing. Jon needed to know that there would be no support coming from the Iron Throne.
They spent the night in the Eastwatch castle. First night in many when they didn't fuck. First night of the many nights to come when he wouldn't be in her bed.
Before dawn broke, they left for Castle Black on horses the Commander of Eastwatch gave them. They rode west along the Wall.
"Doesn't the Night's Watch kill Wildlings?" Sandor asked when they stopped in a small clearing to eat.
Arya nodded. "Aye, we did that. I figure no on in Castle Black is happy about Jon's decision. Brothers and Wildlings alike."
"But you don't mind."
She shrugged, and handed him bread and meat. "I want to kill with my bare hands the ones who killed my friends. Many of them want to kill me for the same reason."
"And now they're all together, inside Castle Black."
She reached to take the flask of wine he handed her. She brushed her fingers over his.
One last time. She had to try. She had just found him, the missing piece of her soul. She couldn't lose him so soon. She wished she would never lose him. Not to the Night King. Not to his God.
"Please don't go after the Night King," she said.
There was an ocean of sadness in those beautiful blue eyes she didn't love. He shook his head.
"A man must serve. The Many-Faced God is due a name."
"Don't be stupid," she whispered hotly.
"A man must protect what he loves."
The mix between that annoying speech pattern, and the meaning of his words stunned her. He loved her? Well, fuck! That did not make it any easier to accept that he was going to his death. Before she could say anything, Sandor spoke again.
"If he let Wildlings join the Watch. Does that mean that women are now allowed?"
She'd been thinking about that since she heard the news. The women of the Free Folk fought alongside their husbands, defending their homes, as well as in raids over the Wall. Arya had fought plenty spearwives, and killed a fair few of them.
"That's going to be the first thing I ask him or Sam when we get there," she said.
"A man must talk with Samwell Tarly," he said.
Arya had told him about Samwell being the best informed and most open minded people in the Watch. He was Sandor's best chance to understand more about his target.
Sandor
By his calculations, they were far enough from Castle Black to be out of the range of scouting parties. He put his hand on the back of her neck and leaned down to kiss her. She resisted the kiss, and tried to pull back. They had never touched each other like that outside their little cabin.
She managed to break the kiss and pulled her head back. She was clawing at his armor, but not pushing away as much as trying to shove her fingers through the chain mail.
"It's not your face," she said.
"But it's a such a pretty face," he said, and leaned in to resume the kiss.
"Fucking gorgeous, but not the one I love," she said, grabbing his hair to pull his head back.
He felt her tensing, embarrassed by what she had said.
"You have terrible taste in men," he said, and he was rewarded with a smile.
"I want to fuck you," she said, trying to work her hands under his armor and into his breeches. "Take that face off so I can kiss your lips."
He growled, standing to attention at her explicit request and insistent groping. He could take the face off easily enough, but reapplying it required preparation, and no matter how quick their fucking would be, the night would catch them on the road.
"There's time for one or the other. What do you want more?"
"Fuck!" she said, frustrated.
"Good choice."
He pushed her roughly against the trunk of a massive oak.
"I didn't…"
He raised an eyebrow, inviting her to keep speaking. She leaned back against the tree with her eyes closed and her hands questing at the edge of his trousers.
"Fucking," she whispered. "I know it's you under that face."
[...]
He'd been careless again. Too selfish to pull out and protect her. Too desperate to be inside her for as long as he could.