Note: God, and then this chapter's filler too! It can't be helped, unfortunately, because I really have this thing where I like things to play out smoothly, and not have the story all choppy. So, unfortunately, this chapter's filler as well (but stuff happens, I promise). The next chapter, however, will be the awards banquet, and a huge event happens there (besides the banquet that is). And just in case you're wondering, since I don't want to get anyone's hopes up, no, it's not that Ayra and Gendry have sex.

Summary: In which Arya continues to be very disappointed in the way things seem to be going, and Gendry runs into Ned at her fencing tournament.

TWACK!

The arrow hit the target dead in the center, sinking into the soft wood of the board and sticking there. Lowering the bow, Arya smiled, admiring her work. So far, she had hit all three targets dead in the center, and, too lazy to go and get her arrows so that she could just hit them all in the center again, decided to just chose places on each target to aim.

Flipping her bangs back, Arya bent down and selected an arrow from her tourniquet. As she straightened up, placing it on the bow, she couldn't help but have her thoughts drift, yet again, to the disaster that was prom.

She just couldn't stop thinking about it. It was like the time she ate bad clams at one of Robert Baratheon's banquets, and ended up throwing up in one of the potted plants; no matter how many times she tried not to think of the incident, it always came cropping up her in mind, as if to torture her, refusing to just play nice and leave.

And then, of course, there was the awards banquet to consider. It was coming up in a week or so, and if Arya had not been looking forward to the prom, it was nothing in comparison to how she felt towards the awards ceremony.

For prom, she had only had to endure Joffrey, but for the awards ceremony, there were usually a whole herd of Lannisters running about, all of whom she despised, except for maybe Twyin Lannister, Joffrey's grandfather. He was all right, but wasn't coming this time, as he had business elsewhere.

And it wasn't even the prospect of spending time with the Lannister's either. There was something very fishy about this particular awards banquet. She usually was able to talk her way out of going, but obviously this year that wasn't going to be the case. Maybe everyone always acted this way before an awards banquet, all reserved and busy, and by everyone, of course, Arya meant Sansa. Maybe she really was going to break up with Joffrey, Arya thought to herself, it would certainly explain a good deal. How she barely talked at dinner, or seemed with-drawn, spending most of her time in her room.

Her parents were acting weird as well. Maybe it was that visit Joffrey had paid a few weeks ago, right after the prom fiasco. It had been very hush-hush (Arya was not allowed to listen in under the door), and when Joffrey had left, her parents had unreadable looks on their faces.

Arya hoped that was what had happened, that Sansa and Joffrey were going to break up, but it also didn't seem likely either. Sansa might have seemed unusually quiet and antisocial, but she was also spending a great deal of time with Joffrey and at the Baratheon household. It made no sense, but Arya had much bigger things nagging at her, like the kiss, for instance. Damn! There it was again! And she had promised herself not to think about it!

Gritting her teeth, she pulled the bow up and aimed, imaging the target was Joffrey's head so she would have something other than herself in which to vent out her anger.

TWACK!

Once again, the arrow hit the target exactly where she wanted it too, and Arya smirked, allowing herself a moment of pride before she went to retrieve another arrow.

"I'd have thought you'd be practicing for the tournament," her father's voice sounded behind her, startling her slightly. Arya turned around to see him dressed in a nice dark blue suit, probably just home from work, smiling at her in the late morning sun.

"There's only so much practicing I can do," she said, taking another arrow. "And besides, if I focus on it too much, I'll just make myself crazy."

"Jon called," Ned said hesitantly from behind her as she aimed the arrow again. "He says he's sorry, Arya, but he can't make it. And Bran can only come for the second half as well."

TWACK!

Arya let out a long sigh, an unexpected rush of stupid tears pricking at her eyes. Out of everything that was going wrong, she had really hoped this wouldn't. Pushing back the choking feeling in her throat, Arya tried to look indifferent, turning around and shrugging, picking up another arrow.

"That's the second time he's missed one of my tournaments," she said, trying not to sound bitter and not succeeding.

"I know," Ned sighed. "He says he's sorry, but he's far too tied up at work, and something's come up, and he just can't Arya."

"I'm fine," Arya snapped fiercely, released yet another arrow, a little more violently this time. "Really."

"I know you're disappointed," Ned said, not fooled in the least. "I am too. That's why I thought I'd come instead."

She whipped around, shocked, to see if he was in earnest.

"Seriously?" She asked, unable to stop a big, stupid grin from spreading over her face.

"Yeah, why not?" Ned said, waving her off, but it didn't hide the fact that he was looking a little proud of himself.

"But don't you have work?" Arya asked, trying not to get her hopes up.

"I did," Ned said, his eyes twinkling, "but I called Robert and told him he owed me after that little stunt Joffrey pulled. He seemed to think it was fair, so I'm a free agent."

"Really?" Arya asked, biting her lip. He nodded. She positively beamed with happiness. "Oh Dad! Thank you!"

"Of course," Ned said, smiling as well. "I'm excited, I haven't been to one of these in ages, and it's always nice to see you kick some butt."

Arya rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling.

"I never loose," she said, setting down the bow and arrows.

"That's my girl," Ned said, laughing. Arya laughed too, and then she stopped, realization suddenly creeping into her happiness.

"What's wrong?" Ned asked, concerned.

"Nothing," she said quickly, grimacing.

"Arya..." He said sternly, frowning. She sighed.

"It's just... Umm... I didn't know you were going to go so..." She scratched at the back of her head, trying to think of the best way to explain herself. But Ned already seemed to know.

"Gendry's coming, isn't he?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes," Arya said painfully.

"Good," Ned said with a smile that Arya couldn't tell if it reassured her or scared her, "I'll save him a seat."

Ooooooooooooooo

He was going to be late, he was sure of it. Gendry could only think, as he zigzagged in and out of traffic on his motorcycle, that Arya was going to kill him. He knew he should have given himself that extra five minutes, but no, he had to stay late, getting caught up on some car he was working on.

He pulled up into the parking lot and practically sprinted into Syrio's, cursing himself internally. Instantly, he was filled with relief. It appeared-miracle upon miracles!-that the tournament itself was running a little late, and hadn't even started yet. Letting out a long sigh of relief, Gendry ran a hand through his black hair.

"Gendry Waters."

Gendry almost screamed. Almost. Luckily, he caught ahold of himself just in time and managed to only give a small jump, turning around to see Ned Stark smiling at him. He could only grimace back.

"Sir," he said, nodding his head respectfully, "it's erm... Nice to see you."

"I suspect not," Ned said with a chuckle. "Last time we saw each other, I said some things that I'm not particularly proud of."

Gendry blinked, surprised. He had no idea how to respond to that, and in desperation, searched the crowd, his eyes alighting on Arya, who was watching their exchange. She gave him an apologetic smile.

"Come on, it's about to start," Ned Stark said, waving for him to follow," I saved you a seat."

"Err, did you?" Gendry stumbled out stupidly. Ned sighed and gave him another pained smile, showing him to two very reasonably good seats. They sat awkwardly.

"I'm probably the last person you wanted to see here," Ned said as they watched the other opponents stepped up onto the mat and the tournament begin.

"No, sir, I can think of much worse," Gendry said, cursing himself when he did, but Ned laughed.

"Yes, I suppose that's true. You can't be too fond of Joffrey, can you?" He said, chuckling. Gendry shifted uncomfortably.

"He's... Not my favorite person," he said carefully. Ned laughed again.

"Don't tell my daughter I used this language, but he's a little shit," Ned said darkly. "I have no idea how Robert lets him get away with all that stuff. He's out of touch, Rob is."

Gendry ran a hand through his hair again, feeling awkward.

"I'm sorry," Ned apologized, "you don't really see much of your Dad, do you?"

"No," Gendry said, feeling his cheeks heat. "Robert's not really interested in me. I doubt he knows I exist half the time."

Ned gave him a long look, and to Gendry's surprise, it wasn't pity that was on his face. It was, humility almost, as if Ned Stark was feeling guilty for the way he had seen him before. Maybe he was rethinking all those things he had said about Gendry being a lowborn.

"You really show up for her, don't you?" Ned said after a long period of silence. Gendry looked over at him in surprise.

"Of course," he said at once. "She's my best friend."

Ned nodded thoughtfully.

"She needs that, someone being there for her," Ned said, watching as Arya took the mat, sticking her opponent in a matter of seconds. "I'm afraid it must seem like everyone's leaving her. Robb's off, married and with a baby on the way. She cried when Jon left, and now Sansa's about to go off to university and Bran's growing away from home as well, and I'm always far more busier than I'd like to be. She needs someone that isn't about to leave her."

"I'll never leave her," Gendry vowed without even thinking about it. Ned looked up at him, and this time it wasn't humility on his face, but respect.

"Sansa told me you and Arya had the best of times at the dance," he said, smiling as Arya beat another opponent. "She said there wasn't a moment that she didn't look over and see you two laughing."

Gendry smiled, thinking about it.

"Yeah," he said, chuckling. "We did."

"She'd probably have more fun at this awards banquet if you went with her," Ned said casually. Gendry blinked in surprise.

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of making her go, sir?" He asked. Ned laughed, shaking his head.

"Maybe, but I think I can bend the rules a bit," he said. "Besides, that way you could catch up with your Dad, and then he can see what he's missing."

"Missing?" Gendry asked.

"I've only talked to you for ten minutes and I like you infinitely more than I like Joffrey, and I've known him since he was a baby," Ned said. "Trust me, if Robert has any sense, he'll see what a good young man you've turned out to be."

Gendry stared at him in shock, unable to believe it. Ned Stark had paid him a compliment. And, as Arya stuck yet another person, he was sure he heard the sound of hell freezing over