Have I told you how awesome you guys are? Well, you are!

I think I'm close to finished writing my story, unless my fingers suddenly come up with some random twist which makes me write another twenty chapters. actually, I've reached 22 chapters on my computer, and they are all waiting to be published. But you guys know the rules - the more you review, the sooner I update!

(BTW: I think some misunderstood the last chapter and thought that it was Arya's idea to write that she still wanted to marry Dickon, but she only copied a suggestion her mother had written. )

Chapter 10

Arya

She had not spoken with Gendry for over a week, and was sourly missing his company. She considered writing him an apologetic note, but changed her mind. Had she really wronged him by asking him to kiss her? Besides, in the end, he had done so out of free will. Bran kept asking why she never spent any time at the forge anymore, and Arya told him to bugger off. The absence of her friend was bringing out the worst in her, and she feared for what she might do if anyone wronged her today.

"This came from the Tarly's," Maester Luwin told her one day when she sat in the library with Bran. She accepted the note hesitantly, but was too nervous to open it. Bran asked for permission to read it, and when she nodded, he took the letter out of her hands and read quickly through it, his eyes widening in shock.

"Arya," he said, and Arya needed not ask to know what it said. The marriage between Dickon and her were still happening.

"Are you alright?" he asked, as she covered her face with her hands, shaking her head.

"This is mother's fault! All of it! I bet she's at Horn Hill at speaking moment, coaxing the Tarly's, persuading them to let me marry that fool!"

Bran patted her back clumsily. "She only wants what's best for you," he said meekly, but Arya simply shot him a murderous look, and he kept silent.

"I wish father were here. He would never let her do that behind my back!"

Bran reminded her that he had not yet told her about his original plan to marry her off to Dickon, but Arya shook it off. "He was busy," she said, defending him even though she could have punched him for lying to her. But the lack of letters was worrying, and the remaining Stark children were afraid something might have happened to him down in King's Landing. Robb had mentioned that he wanted to ride down himself to see if he were to be found, but Talla persuaded him to write to their mother instead, as she was closer. But if Catelyn wasted her time mending the relationship between her and Dickon instead of traveling to the capital to search for Ned, she truly had mixed up her priorities.

"I didn't think Dickon was that bad," Bran said. "He made you laugh, and he didn't get angry when you beat him in swordfight."

"He spied on me," she reminded him.

"With good reason; you were sneaking around with the blacksmith!"

Arya stared at her brother in disbelief. She had believed that he at least would take her side instead of defending the spying fool.

Getting to her feet, she spat: "We are just friends. Or were- I don't know anymore. Thank you for supporting me on this, Brandon."

Robb

A month later, they were seated by the table, eating supper, when Robb finally received a letter from their father. Arya glanced up at him in expectation as Maester Luwin crossed the room and handed him the note.

"It is from father?" she asked; hope glistening in her sad eyes. Ever since she learned she still were to marry Dickon, she had been sulking and hardly eaten anything.

Robb unrolled the paper and read quickly through it, holding his breath. Gasping, he re-read it to make sure he had understood his father's words.

"What does it say?" Arya asked, reaching out to rip the paper out of his hands, but Robb were too quick, and carefully tucked the letter into his pocket.

"Only boring stuff about how to rule Winterfell," Robb lied, disliking the taste the words left on his tongue. He had never been a very good liar, but his father had made it very clear that this information had to remain confidential. "He sends his regards," he added, trying to cheer up Arya and Bran, but neither seemed to feel any better. "Oh, and the king is dead."

Although King Robert was only a man they had met once, the news created a strained atmosphere around the table. Talla stroke her stomach as to console the child within, while Arya dropped her fork; completely giving up on food. Bran sighed, staring out of the window, his mind obviously elsewhere.

When the supper ended, Robb excused himself and climbed the stairs to the lord's tower. Seated by the large wooden desk, Robb unfolded the letter and stared at it for what felt like hours. There it was- the truth about the new King, Joffrey Baratheon. Or should he say Lannister? The thought of Queen Cercei and Ser Jaime together made his insides wrench. And then his father had mentioned Robert's eldest bastard. Robb narrowed his eyes as he reread the last sentence. It was a risky thing to put in a letter. Ned could risk being beheaded if the wrong person had read it, but luckily, the raven had carried the letter back to Winterfell. Although Ned wasn't entirely sure who the bastard was, he said he had his suspicions, but did not dare write his name. However, he had written that the boy resembled King Robert's brother, Renly, and that Robb had met him in person more than once. Well, that clue would have been easier if Robb had had the pleasure to meet Lord Renly, but as he had never been in King's Landing, he had only other's description's to go from. He knew Renly had black hair, and rather handsome features, but that was about it.

Pulling a piece of paper from a drawer, Robb wrote a reply, where he asked when his father would be home. At the bottom, he also wrote that Arya's betrothal to Dickon had been cancelled, only to be re-established. He made sure he was clear on how much Arya resented the idea of marrying the young man, and that he was starting to worry about her health. If anyone could put a stopper to the wedding but still remain honorable, it was Ned Stark.

Gendry

Gendry was headed for the well when he saw Arya walk past him along with Nymeria. She was not running and smiling as she usually would have done on such a beautiful day, but stared at her feet, pouting. The wolf seemed to notice her mood, and trotted slowly next to her, her head hanging.

He suddenly felt bad for ignoring her these past couple of weeks, but told himself it had been necessary. Although his attraction toward the young lady had not faded, it was easier to bear when she was not around. But seeing her now, he wanted nothing more but to walk up to her and give her a warm hug or tell her a bad jape to cheer her up. Trying to push the thought of Arya out of his mind, he pumped water into his bucket, but as Arya glanced up at him, her eyes emotionless and cold, he sighed and decided he would ask her what was wrong. Her lack of friends had not gone past him, and he was sure she didn't really have anyone else to talk to. Her hollow cheek worried him, and he could swear she seemed even skinnier beneath the large cloak, but perhaps he was hallucinating.

After bringing Myra her water, Gendry ran after Arya and the wolf to the wolfswood where they were seated by the lake. As he approached them, the wolf turned its head and glared at him.

"Hi," he said meekly, stopping a few feet from her. Arya didn't move. If she had registered his presence, she was not showing it.

He cleared his throat, suddenly very uncomfortable. "Is everything alright?"

Arya still sat completely still with her back to him. As he took a few steps closer, the wolf gave him a warning growl, but Gendry ignored it. Ever since he had met Nymeria, she had done nothing but growl at him, and no matter how far he bent her boundaries, she never hurt him. He sat down next to the girl, patting her shoulder gently. Arya, startled by the touch, jerked away and gave him a dark look.

"What do you want?" she asked venomously. Gendry withdrew his hand and pushed his hair out of his eyes.

"You're unhappy," he stated, staring the the dark rings around the girl's eyes. She looked as if she hadn't slept for days.

"Like you even care," she spat. Gendry wanted to pull her close and run his fingers through her dark hair, anything to make her feel happy, but he knew better. It was thoughts like these that had ruined their friendship in the first place.

Instead, he leaned closer and locked her gaze with his. "You know I do," he whispered gently. Arya's brown eyes flickered, before she dropped her gaze, uncomfortable.

"Tell me what's bothering you," he urged her, but she shook her head stubbornly. He sighed, regretting his behavior over the last weeks. Arya deserved a better friend than him, who avoided her whenever things got tough.

"Do I have to force it out of you?" he asked challenging. Arya lifted her head and looked at him, suddenly interested. "Let's duel about it," he suggested, getting to his feet while offering her a hand. "If you win, I'll stop asking, but if I win-"

Arya snorted. "I'm a Lady, Ladies do not fight with sticks." he could hear the bitterness in her words and sat back down.

"Would a proper sword please you more?" he asked jokingly, desperate to lighten her mood. Arya shook her head and crossed her arms.

"Arya," he said, cupping her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Tell me what's on your mind, like you always used to do."

She pulled away from his touch, her eyes gleaming with anger. "Nothing is as it used to be," she hissed, jumping to her feet. "You made sure of that by ignoring me for a month!"

As she started to march away, Gendry seized her elbow, pulling her back. Nymeria growled loudly from where she stood, demanding him to let go of her mistress.

"Don't touch me," Arya yelled, jerking her arm out of his grip. "If you ever seize me again, I will let Nymeria rip your throat out." Although he knew she didn't mean it, her words stung, and he backed away, slightly frightened. But as he retreated, Arya approached him, her nostrils flaring.

"What did I do to make you pull away? Was it the kiss? Was it truly that terrible you couldn't stand looking at me?" her voice cracked.

Gendry shook his head, frustrated. He could not explain his reason to avoid her without telling her how wonderful the kiss they shared had been. He could not tell her that she haunted his dreams, or that he caught himself wishing he was a lord only so he would be allowed to marry her. No matter how strong his feelings for her were, she was a lady and he was only a blacksmith.

"Arya-"

She jumped at him, pushed him, but he managed to remain on his feet. And when her little fists started punching his chest, he let her.

"You abandoned me," she yelled, punching him hard in the stomach. "You left when I needed you the most. You are supposed to be my friend, but you keep pulling away!" tears where streaming down her face by now. Her breath had grown heavy and her punches slowed down. Then she fell into his arms, worn down and exhausted. He stroke her back as she sobbed into his tunic, frequently hitting him, but not as hard as she had.

When she regained her breath, she let out a groan. "I am still to marry Dickon Tarly."

Gendry felt like someone had punched his stomach, but this time it was not Arya. The words caught him by surprise and his mind blurred. Arya Tarly. The thought of Dickon and Arya together made his blood boil with jealousy, but what could he do? He was only a blacksmith, and she would be lady of Horn Hill.

Robb

When and Talla went to bed that evening, the only thing Robb could think of was the letter he had received from his father. It was now only ashes in the fireplace, but he knew the words by heart. Before Ned left, he had told him about his conversation with Mikken; about how Gendry had evacuated King's Landing, but he never learned the reason why. Robb knew it was a longshot, but could it be possible that the newest inhabitant in Winterfell was the rightful heir to the iron throne? He did fit Renly's description perfectly with his black hair and blue eyes. How many did he really now with such an appearance? Too restless to fall asleep, he crawled out of bed and walked out on the balcony, watching Winterfell's nightlife below. He wished his father would return soon and tell him if his suspicion was true.

The night air seemed to clear his head remarkably, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed a couple coming from the hunter's gate. Narrowing his eyes, he recognized Arya's skinny silhouette, and he needed not ask who the man walking next to her was. Even Robb had noticed that ever since the bastard arrived at Winterfell, a friendship had developed between Arya and him, although it seemed to have cooled off lately. But seeing them together again, Robb could not help but wonder. Could it be that Arya took after her sister and was sneaking around with Gendry, or were they only friends?

He watched as they begged each other farewell before going separate ways; Arya to the castle and Gendry to the forge. As the man disappeared behind the door, Robb saw Arya turn and stare after him, her arms wrapped around her waist. Scratched his beard in wonder, Robb returned inside, an idea appearing in his head. He had not been able to save Sansa's happiness, but perhaps he could spare Arya's?