Chapter 14

Arya

They stayed in the cave for two more days before they finally continued toward the Wall. As the mare was not very big, Arya decided it would be best if only Gendry sat on her back. Of course, he had refused, and even offered to walk in her place.

"Will you shut up? Just because I'm a girl does not mean I cannot walk. I've got legs you know."

In the end, Arya had managed to convince him, with a little help from Nymeria who had growled angrily at him.

"Then we should both ride. You'll wear yourself out if you walk the whole way," he insisted.

"The horse hasn't eaten properly in days. She's just as weak as you are. We must not push her too hard."

Gendry scoffed. "You're light as a feather, she won't notice whether you're on her or not!"

Arya gave him a stubborn look. "I'm walking, that's the end of that!" she said, crossing her arms. Gendry sighed and mounted the horse.

"You remind me of your mother when you talk like that."

She groaned and led the horse forwards. He had told her how he was attacked by wildlings and how Nymeria had come out from nowhere and saved his life – exactly like her dream. However, she did not tell him she was there that night. How could she expect him to understand something so completely insane?

"How far do you think it is left?" he asked after a while, breaking the silence. Arya looked around. They were walking by the Long Lake, and was about to return to the King's Road, which would be the easiest road to walk, even if it were more dangerous.

"We're half-ways she replied. "I reckon we will be there in a week or so."

He scoffed. "And you intending to walk the whole way?"

"Yes."

"You'll get tired."

"No I won't."

"I can walk," he tried, but Arya simply shook her head.

"No you can't you liar. Listen, I'm okay, honestly. Perhaps we'll even find a new horse on the road." He sighed, but didn't argue anymore. Her father had always said she had gotten the stubbornness from her mother. And that her taste for adventures came from her aunt, Lyanna. Some said they even looked the same.

They didn't meet very many people. It was not much traffic between the Wall and Winterfell, except for those who traveled from the village outside of the Wall. However, Arya would sometimes see someone familiar from home, and she forced the horse into the woods to hide until they had passed. She was sure her family had ordered them to bring them home no matter what. She suddenly felt bad for leaving them like that. She loved them, she really did, but they never really understood her. Not like Jon had.

"I think you'll really like him. Jon." she told Gendry. "Since you're both bastards and everything." She gave him a japing smile.

Gendry scoffed. "I can assure you not all bastards are as nice as I am."

"You? Nice?" she asked, winking.

"Shut up."

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure Nymeria will return with something soon. But if she doesn't I'll might as well kill a squirrel myself," Arya said, pulling the dagger out of its shaft.

Gendry frowned. "Are you going to kill a squirrel?"

"I can be quick," she reminded him. Suddenly, a noise made her turn around. "Did you hear that?"

Gendry shook his head. "It's probably nothing, Arya. No one will attack us on the middle of the day. Not this close to the king's road."

But Arya held her dagger in her hand, glancing over her shoulder. "Let's speed up," she said.

They journeyed for hours. Most of the time they kept quiet, looking around for dangers, but other times they would talk and talk about everything. Although she thought she had known Gendry well enough, he had never told her about his mother. Not until now anyway.

"To be honest, I can't remember what she looked like except that she had yellow hair. She used to sing when cooking, and always kissed my forehead before tucking me in. We were poor, and she usually worked at the alehouse all night. I would usually come with her, and then I would play with the owner's children." He paused, glancing down at Arya. "Sometimes she would bring a man home –the same man every time. She would tell me to go outside and play for a while, and whenever the man left, she would bring me to the market and buy something sweet for me."

Arya bit her lip. She didn't know what to say to console him.

"I didn't understand why before after she died. Perhaps it was better that way," his voice was bitter with grieve. Arya tried to imagine how it would be like growing up without parents, but found it impossible.

"Then Tobho took me in. he didn't have a son of his own – only daughters much older than me. I guess he hoped I would marry one of them someday so the forge would stay within the family."

Arya nodded. "Did you want to?"

"What?"

"Marry any of them?"

Gendry snorted, shrugging. "I don't know," he said. "I mean, they were wonderful girls, all three of them, but they were never more than sisters to me, you know? Besides, they were almost twice my age."

That night they stopped in the middle of the forest, not finding anywhere better to rest. Nymeria came jogging after them, a rabbit dangling from her mouth, but Arya did not risk making a fire and they ate it raw before falling asleep, side by side with their heads leaning against each other.

Bran

"There is no sign of your sister or the blacksmith, my lord," a guard named Byler told him, bowing. Bran rubbed his temples and rolled his chair to the table where the maps lay.

"Have you looked everywhere?" he asked, knowing perfectly well they had.

Byler looked at his feet. "I'm truly sorry my lord, but if they had been anywhere near the King's road, my men would have found them by now."

"Perhaps they are not on the road. They could have left it; they could be in the woods!" Bran pointed out hopefully. "Perhaps they found shelter somewhere."

The guard nodded. "My men and I will return to the woods if it pleases you, my lord."

"Good, you may leave. Maester Luwin?"

The old man stepped out of the corner he had been standing in. as he approached him, Bran noticed how the maester was limping.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked. The maester nodded reassuringly.

"Make sure Mikken and his wife are informed of the latest update. I also wish to search for Arya myself – tell the stable master to have a horse ready for me."

Maester Luwin bowed and limped out of the room, leaving Bran alone with his maps. Trailing his fingers across the fur, Bran closed his eyes. Arya, where are you? I pray to the old gods and the new that you will return to us, safe and unharmed.

He startled by the sound of steps. "Bran, have they found them yet?"

Bran turned and saw Talla in the doorway, her hands stroking her swollen belly, her eyes gleaming with tears.

"I'm afraid not," he replied quietly. Talla sighed loudly and seated herself next to him.

"They'll return one day, you'll see."

But her words meant nothing to him. How could she know? She was only human. Only the gods knew if Arya and Gendry were even still alive.

Gendry

They had been riding for four days when Arya's mare finally ducked under. Gendry was impressed by how long she had survived; she had been under his weight and pushed to her limits day after day.

"We should eat her," Arya suddenly said and pulled her dagger out of her pocket. Gendry looked at her.

"Eat her? She's your horse!"

Arya scoffed. "She's dead. She won't do any good but feed us now. It's been days since we had a proper meal. I say we roast the meat today, no matter how dangerous starting a fire might be, and then we'll have food for the rest of the journey."

Gendry looked back at the lifeless horse beside them. He knew she was right; Arya usually was.

"How's your leg?" Arya asked, her dagger buried in the mare's stomach.

Gendry shrugged, helping her flay the horse. "It's much better. I'm sure I can start walking tomorrow."

She narrowed her eyes at him and reached out to pull his breeches down.

"Hey-"

"Don't be so bloody modest, Gendry. I have to look at the wound, and I can't do that if you are all covered up now, can I?"

Gendry snorted. "I looked at it just this morning. It looks fine."

"Liar," she spat. "You're only scared I'll see your cock, aren't you?"

"I am not! Besides, a lady shouldn't use such language."

Arya hissed. "How many times must I tell you, I am not a lady!" when he sniggered, she punched his shoulder so violently, he lost his balance.

"Come on, show me the wound. I bet you don't even know how an infected wound looks like!"

"Of course I do. Being a blacksmith is not completely harmless you know. I've had lots of wounds."

Arya rolled her eyes and continued flaying the skin off of the horse. "Bloody craven," she muttered.

Gendry groaned. "You really want to see my thigh so bad? Well, here you go then- I'm no bloody craven." He stood up, leaning on his good leg, and pulled his breeches down to his knees. Her eyes widened in surprise, and then she started laughing.

"What so funny?" he asked, staring down at his undergarment, but Arya only shook her head and shrugged.

"It looks stupid is all," she told him, her laugh echoing through the woods.

Gendry frowned and started to pull his breeches back on, but Arya stopped him.

"Wait, you didn't even let me look at the scar."

He waited impatiently as she stroke her fingers over the thick, red line on the middle of his thigh. Her touch gave him goose bumps and sent shivers down his spine. She looked up at him, her big, gray eyes meeting his.

"It looks good," she said in a thick voice, backing away from him. Gendry cleared his throat and pulled his breeches back up.

"So we can continue to the wall in the morrow?"

She nodded, returning to the flaying. "If you think you can handle it."

Gendry scoffed and sat down next to her, watching as her arms moved over the dead horse. She looked beautiful, even now; with dirt on her face, her breeches worn thin and her tunic stained with horse blood. Her tangled hair stuck out around her face, caressing her cheeks as she moved. When she noticed he was watching, she turned and met his gaze.

"What?" she asked annoyed.

Gendry smiled. "Has anyone told you how pretty you are?"

Arya screwed her face up and gave him a suspicious look. "What's the matter with you? It's the cold, isn't it? You are acting stupider than usual."

But Gendry shook his head and cupped her chin with his hand.

"Gendry, what are you-"

Before she could finish her sentence, he pulled her close and let his lips touch hers. It seemed as if she wanted to break free at first, but then she relaxed in his arms, meeting his kiss just as passionately. Her bloody hands tangled in his hair, she opened for his tongue. Although it was cold outside, her skin was warm and soft to his touch. He let his fingers stroke her cheek, her neck, followed by his lips. She moaned and tightened her grip around him, her kisses growing hungrier. He did not know for how long they had been kissing when her hand slid down his back.

"Wait, Arya," he panted, pulling away. "We shouldn't."

She broke free from his embrace, staring at him. "What do you mean?" she asked, sounding slightly hurt. He stood up and crossed his arms.

"We shouldn't let it go that far. You're a lady of Winterfell whilst I am only a blacksmith."

Arya scoffed and clenched her fist around a dagger. "I'm growing tired of that speech, Gendry. How many times must I tell you I simply do not care about that?"

"Perhaps you will care. Someday."

Arya froze and glared at him. "Is that what you think? That someday I will magically decide that after all, Sansa's life is the right life for me? If that truly is how you feel, why did you even bother kissing me just now?"

Gendry shrugged, his back leaned against a tree. "I don't know."

Arya stabbed the knife into the horse and got up to her feet. "Well then you bloody well better figure it out!"

He watched as she stomped away. Her skinny figure moving violently through the snow. He could not tell her what had made him kiss her again. The words would only scare her. The words he had been holding in since the day he had met her. I love you, he thought, slamming his head toward the tree he was seated against, making a loud thump.