So, because of the lack of Gendrya-fluff in the last chapter, I decided I might as well publish the next as well. It's not very fluffy either, but it is necessary. R&R

Arya

Chapter 5.

Talla Tarly arrived a few days later, accompanied by her family and around one hundred guards. Arya stood next to her siblings as the party came through the main gates. Her mother had told her to put on a nice dress, and Arya had reluctantly obeyed. Sansa had offered to put her hair up, and thinking it would help her sister's mood, Arya let her. She had hardly recognized herself when she looked in the mirror, and had to admit she didn't look half-bad. But all the beauty in the world was not worth the discomfort of walking around in long gowns and uncomfortable shoes.

Arya watched the rest of the inhabitants of Winterfell, who had all come to welcome the new Lady, and caught a glimpse of raven-black hair next to Mikken and his wife. Everyone had put on the finest of clothing they owned, and for Gendry it meant a simple tunic and clean trousers, both almost concealed by a large, green cloak that seemed relatively new. She guessed Myra had made it for him; surely he wouldn't need a woolen cloak back in King's Landing. The man caught her eyes as he pushed his hair back, smiling.

As a wagon stopped right in front of them, and the young Talla stepped out, Robb approached her and helped her down the ladder. Arya had to snigger by the way he was looking at his bride-to-be. However, he was not the only one. Talla was tall with curves on all the right places, just like a lady ought to look like. Arya felt a pinch of jealousy, but pushed it away. Being skinny came to her advantage in a sword fight, no matter how unflattering it might be.

An older woman, Lady Melessa Arya guessed, came out after her daughter. She was wearing a dark blue silk gown and a lighter blue cloak made of cotton. Arya couldn't imagine it was warm enough to wear in a place like Winterfell, and hoped they had brought wool. Just like her daughter, the lady's hair was very dark, on the edge of black, and was set up in an elegant do, just like the queen's hair had been when she visited Winterfell so long ago.

A narrow, but muscular man rode past the carriage and jumped off his horse right in front of her father. His head was almost bare, while his beard was gray and bristly. He shook Ned's hand firmly and gave Catelyn a kiss on her hand. Instead of talking to the children like the king had done, he simply nodded toward them and took a few steps back as another man came forward. Arya guessed him to be around her age, but acted as if he was five years older. Dickon Tarly, she guessed and watched wearily as he mimicked his father's greetings.

"I'm pleased to welcome you to Winterfell," Ned said. "I see you have not brought your other daughters, Lord Tarly."

The man shook his head. "Both are betrothed, my youngest to Lord Willas Tyrell. I saw no point in bringing them into this cold. How you northern stand it is beyond my knowledge."

"I find the cold refreshing," Talla said with a smile, looking straight at Robb, who eyed her back with just as much interest. Obviously, he had not been disappointed.

Lord Tarly frowned. "Well, that makes one of us."

Arya saw her parents exchanging worried looks, before Ned ordered a few of his men to take care of the guest's horses. Catelyn had prepared three bedrooms for the Tyrell's, while the guards would have to stay in the stable or in the brothel outside the city walls.

"Let me show you where you will be staying, Lady Tarly," Catelyn said.

"I always thought Winterfell was bigger," the youngest Tarly said as he looked up at the castle. Arya shot him a glare, but if he noticed, he simply didn't care.

Soon the court yard was emptying. The workers returned to their work, the guards to their posts and the guests to their living area. Robb followed his bride-to-be like a pup and didn't stop staring at her.

"What's wrong with Robb?" Rickon asked as they walked back inside the castle with Sansa and Bran.

Sansa scoffed and rolled her eyes. "He's in love, Rickon." Arya could sense the bitterness in her words. Her sister probably found it unfair that Robb got to marry someone he desired, while she had to marry Edrick Dayne, a man she had never met.

"It's a little weird, don't you think? In a few days, Robb will be married, and in a year he'll probably have a little baby," Bran said, chuckling. Once again Arya was struck by how unfair life was; Bran would never have children, and perhaps not even a wife.

"I hope it's a boy," Rickon said. "Then I'll teach him archery."

Arya snorted. "You can't teach him anything you don't know, stupid!"

Rickon gave her an offended look and punched her hard in the shoulder. She groaned in pain, and caught her little brother by his elbow, forcing his arm behind his back.

"Apologize," she ordered, twisting his wrist. Rickon yelped in agony, but shook his head.

"Never!"

"You'll regret this," she told him, but instead of snapping his wrist off like he thought she would, she bent down and kissed his cheek. The little boy jerked away from her and rubbed his cheek violently.

"Gross Arya!" he yelled, glaring at her. The others laughed as he ran up the stairs and slammed the door to his chamber shut.

But instead of joining her siblings in the family room, where Bran had challenged Sansa in a game of chess, she turned and headed outside instead. The welcoming feast would not be until twilight, and Arya wanted to enjoy the fresh air a little longer. Nymeria came running toward her and Arya saw a rope flapping behind her.

"Nymeria! Did you chew over the rope and escape?" she tried to sound angry, but the wolf licked her hand and looked affectionately at her. Her parents had told the children to tie their wolves up so they wouldn't frighten the guest on their arrival. Arya crouched down and petted the wolf's thick fur. "I should have known a rope wouldn't be good enough. The next time, we'll use a chain made of steel."

With Nymeria by her side, she ran through the market yard, greeting familiar faces with a smile. She stopped and bought a carrot from the vegetable stand and ran to the stable where her horse was tied up. "Here you go, girl," she scratched the horse's mane and fed her the carrot, which she ate hungrily.

"Is that a wolf?" a voice asked from behind her. Arya jumped around, startled by the strange voice. She looked up at the face of Dickon Tarly, who was much taller than her. His hair was a much lighter shade of brown than his mother's and sister's, but his eyes were just as brown.

"A direwolf as a matter of fact," Arya said, slightly hostile.

"Why would anyone want a wolf for a pet?" he looked at her in disbelief, but bent down to pet Nymeria's fur. A growl from the bottom of her throat made the boy back away and he gave Arya a strange look.

"She looks dangerous," he said.

Arya snorted. "She's only mean to people I dislike."

Dickon cocked his brow and looked at her. "Does that mean you do not like me?" he sounded slightly offended. "The benefit of the doubt would have been nice. You met me just now."

Arya shrugged and turned to leave. She had no desire to talk to this Dickon any longer, but he seized her hand and jerked her around gently. Nymeria's growl grew louder, and he let her arm go.

"I'll see you at the feast than," he said and smiled. "My lady."

Arya glared after him, before she realized he was right; she had judged him before getting to know him, and that was unfair of her. She of all people ought to know how hurtful it could be when people came with assumptions about you. Sulking, she exited the stable only to bump into someone and fall to the ground.

"I'm sorry, m'lady," a familiar voice said and gave her a helping hand. Arya accepted and looked at Gendry with furious eyes.

"You ought to see where you're going," she snapped. "And stop calling me m'lady!" he chuckled and bent down to pick up something he had dropped in the encounter.

"You look nice," he said after giving her a few stolen glances, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Different, but nice."

She snorted. "Well, don't get used to it. As soon as the feast is over, I'll never wear this stupid dress again!"

He smiled and motioned to her behind. "Perhaps you ought to change before the feast. One wouldn't want Lord Dickon Tarly to see you in a dirty dress." She sensed some bitterness in his voice, but chose to ignore it. She was not in the mood to play guessing games with Gendry today. If there were something on his mind, he ought to just say it.

"I wouldn't care if he saw me in my usual clothing," she spat, turning to leave. Gendry however, followed her.

"Won't it be nice being the lady of Horn Hill? You do realize that is why the boy came along on the journey, don't you?"

Arya stopped abruptly and grimaced at him. He wasn't serious, was he? "Liar," she said, but Gendry shook his head determinedly.

"You're stupid," she said and continued to walk. If that was true, she had to find her father and find out for herself.

Gendry scoffed and let her walk away. "A pleasure as always, m'lady," he called after her in a grim voice.

Arya had not been able to find her father before the feast, and had therefor seeked her sister for advice. After she gave the gift to Sansa, her sister had been remarkably friendlier towards her. She ought to have bought her a necklace years ago!

"It makes sense, though," Sansa said, pursing her lips. "I mean, you are the same age – and mother and father said they would try to find us husbands who were neither too old nor too young for us, and he is to be Lord of Horn Hill someday."

Arya crossed her arms and sulked. "I don't want to be lady of Horn Hill! It's not even snow down there, I would melt away!"

"Our opinions don't matter much, do they? In the end, father makes the final decision." She replied through clenched teeth. "if he wants you to marry Dickon Tarly, you will marry him."

Sansa tucked a hair stray inside the elegant do her sister had spent hours on earlier that day, and cursed when she saw the state her dress was in.

"Arya, honestly, can't you for once act like a proper lady?" she asked while helping her sister to get out of the dress without messing her hair up even more. Arya bit back a sarcastic retort and simply let Sansa yell at her for a while. She probably deserved what she got anyway. When her sister was done, her face softened and she stroked Arya's cheek affectionately.

"I don't think Dickon seemed so bad. At least he looks better than his father, and he seemed to be pretty athletic too. Perhaps the two of you could fight with swords together."

Arya rolled her eyes and stared into the mirror. She didn't want to fight with swords with Dickon, she wanted to fight with Gendry!

Gendry

As he entered the great hall with Mikken and Myra, Gendry felt out of place among the nicely dressed people. They seated themselves in the back, furthest away from the Lords' children's table, but Gendry – tall as he was – still had a perfect view of everyone in the room. He saw Arya seated next to her sister and her brother in the rolling chair. She had changed into a green dress. It looked beautiful on her, but still very plain compared to the Tarly's dresses. Although she smiled to whoever greeted them, he could see that she was not very happy about being there today. Had she honestly not realized that her father intended to marry her off to Dickon? Although it was Mikken who had told him so, it was very obvious; they were both high-born and would soon be connected by one marriage. The Tarly girl sat next to her future husband by the high table next to the throne along with Lord and Lady stark and Lord and Lady Tarly. As he searched the rest of the room, he saw Dickon Tarly fight his way through the crowd, his eyes fastened on Arya. He suddenly wished she hadn't gotten all dressed up and pretty today. Perhaps the young lord would not have liked her as much if he had seen her in her usual breeches and with dirt on her face.

"Withdraw your eyes, boy," Mikken said warningly beside him. "I've heard Dickon Tarly is rather talented with a blade, you wouldn't want to get on his bad side."

Gendry did as his master told him, and stared down at his food. However, he would catch himself staring at Arya from time to time, wishing he was the one sitting across from her instead of Dickon Tarly.