A/N I am so so so so so so so so so so (add another so x1000000000 on the end) sorry about how long this has taken. I have reasons but mostly it's down to the fact I've got exams in a few weeks and I'm trying to concentrate on those - so chapter 9 might take a long time as well.
Sorry again and I hope you can enjoy this.
The air that day was still, hardly a breath moved the flowers or grass of the courtyard as the daily comings and goings passed through the halls. A few rises of the sun and settings, at least, had passed since Lord Tywin had last spoken with Arya and through that time very little had happened.
Little news of the war had passed through the city, other than minor wins and information of the small amount of troop movement taking place. But in the still air of that day those words discussed about the war just seemed to hang there to become conversation pieces of the court and ignored truths and horrors.
The light was only just cresting the walls of the Red Keep as he pressed his hands on the window's edge, the orange and pale green shadows were only just clearing the way for the red and yellow pure light of day to flow through.
Tywin Lannister's eyes moved through the rabbles of early rising Tyrells and others to the edge of the yard where he saw Maester Pycelle waddling to meet him. He did not want to be kept long by this subject, for it would not be taking him long for the truth to be found.
The door behind Tywin opened slightly, causing the man to turn and stride towards his desk. "My Lord Hand." Pycelle coughed slightly as he slowly stepped towards where Tywin stood, "Why have you called me to visit you at this early hour?"
"Arya Stark." Tywin spoke bluntly, words sharp compared to the air around him. He pursed his lips slightly, keeping his face stoic throughout every word he spoke. "She has not died as was first expected."
"It seems to have not being an infection of the wound, my Lord." Pycelle uttered his words with a slight doubt and worry, as if he would be personally effected by them if they went wrong. "but instead some weak poison someone sort against her." Tywin was not surprised by this fact, as he had seen her recovery act much quicker than the men who had recovered from corruption in their wounds. "Perhaps to purge her stomach-"
Tywin had heard enough. "Thank you Maester Pycelle" His words were brisk, stopping the conversation quickly. Maester Pycelle realised this quickly and offered his 'Good Day' soon after. "And can you also remove the essence of nightshade from my daughter's possession." Tywin spoke before the Maester could leave, ensuring that he could hear him with an almost boom to his voice. Pycelle muttered his agreement before leaving the room at a quicker speed compared to when he entered.
By the time Pycelle had crossed the courtyard, Tywin found himself standing to look out of the window at the sky. The sun had finally cleared the walls and had moved away the clouds from the edges of the sky. Below the rabbles had only increased in size and off put Tywin from leaving his rooms to check elsewhere in the castle. He decided to have his squire run any errands for him.
But as the time began to slow and the sun had not moved from its position in the morning sky, Tywin found himself moving to check on the boy and the Stark Girl. Their rooms were not far from his, the winding halls and corridors or the Tower of the Hand made the distance between rooms seem both distant as negligible at similar times. The rooms were actually levels apart, but they themselves were close together - meaning that this distance that day seemed quite short compared to the actual distance.
The sight that faced the Lannister man was, admittedly, surprising. The young girl in his wardship was curled up in a hard wooden chair, the bedclothes she had being wearing clinging to her thin body as she watched the young boy beside her with interest - but yet laughter escaped her lips at every second stutter. The boy was glaring at her in short glances but was concentrating on something other than his metalwork.
The sight was something that was unexpected, but yet he had also expected it at the same time. He found it intriguing, but it took him a few moments for his words to pass out as harsh as he needed them to be. "Arya."
His voice cut across the air and allowed her to jump slightly as it was unexpected to her. She quickly stood and walked towards him, her own words spilling from her lips. "My Lord?"
"When did the Maester say you would be able to spend time in court." He asked her, his words seeming sketchy and interested the girl - as the words did not fit the man asking them.
"I'm not sure, my Lord, Gendry said that they told him it would be another week." Arya said with uneasy words, as if the words were too heavy for her to understand her consequences of every syllable. She knew that though, but she didn't want to disappoint the man before her, because she knew that with one wrong word or breath the two of them would be dead.
Dead. Like her father was for his wrong words in the same court she played in. She glanced up at the man before her, the grandfather of the boy who had killed he father but hadn't swung the sword - and all she could see for the man who seemed to care for her.
Tywin pressed his lips together into an almost grin to himself, not replying to her remark about her friend's information for a few lengthened moments. "Then next week I will need your help in an important matter." He nodded at her and she nodded lightly with agreement and mimicking his actions lightly. "I will have a squire send for you."
"Thank you My Lord." Arya bowed her head quickly and glanced down at her clothing, ignoring the sight of the blood that had seeped into the tunic from the days she had spent in the room recovering. She then moved slightly towards the doorway once more, still able to hear Gendry and the Maester's conversation through the wood.
"And Arya?" She suddenly stopped at the question, turning back to face hum with slight worry adorning her eyes.
"Yes, My Lord?" Arya asked, peering up at the man with attention staying in her eyes whilst her voice seemed unaffected and clear as if the illness she had just had could have being doubted.
"There's some clothing for you in your rooms." Tywin informed her, noticing some relief filling her gaze as she momentarily turned back to the door to smile at it.
"Thank you My Lord." Arya said with courteous words and ever needed looks. "Good Day." She bowed. And promptly, left.
The cresting light poured over the walls of the Red keep and into the small dank room where the young girl lay. The small windows seeming to open up an widen to allow more light into the room and fill it with a brightness that meant that the young girl could not stay asleep any longer.
The small girl sat upright slowly, brushing the sleep out of her tired eyes and pushing herself around with a slow pace so that her feet were touching the cool stone covering the floor. At that she gasped, surprising herself with the movement. Below her bed the wolf groaned and pushed her paw out from under the bed which took up a large part of the room.
She pushed herself up onto her feet, stumbling slightly and placing her hands on the table beside the bed. Her bare feet rocking slightly on the cool surface and her hands bracing her on the wood until she managed to stand stably.
The Stark girl glanced down at her form, at where she expected her shirt to be stuck to her stomach with dried blood and slaves - but only found the sight of a tight off white linen covering the wound with a light splash of blood dusting under the cloth. She pulled at the edges of the thick undershirt that hung over her frame, glancing around the room to find some sort of riding breeches that would slip on under the shirt. Noticing a pair hanging over the edge of one of the many tables in the room, she stepped over towards the folded pair and threw them towards the bed, before walking back to the bed, sitting down and pulling them on. She brushed them down before bracing herself to stand once more. Pain bellowing through her side as she had moved to stand up too quickly. She groaned, feeling quite useless and moved her way, on unsteady feet, to the main room - where she could hear the sound of strained voices at work on something.
Her feet padded across the cool stone, leading her towards where she could see Gendry - dressed for the day in a deep yellow and black jacket and breeches that Arya was unsure why it had being sent to him. He was still low-born after all and the Lannisters were not known for their generosity to the poor. Beside Gendry was a man dressed in heavy-looking robes and a long chain adorning his neck - it was not as long as Maester Pycelle's but it was around the same length of Maester Luwin's, Arya noted and wondered if the old Maester she had known so well in Winterfell was still there. She knew she could only hope.
Before the two at the table was a heavy-looking book similar to the one she had seen Bran reading when he was younger and a small amount of foods: fruits and breads that seemed to have being left from whenever breakfast had taken place. Arya stepped quietly towards the table and sat down in one of the empty seats.
"You're awake." Gendry smiled, his eyes widening slightly as he saw her thin form move towards the table. As she sat he pushed the bowl of fruits towards her.
"Well no." Arya laughed lightly at the irritation playing on her friends' face caused by her words. She plucked a fruit out of the bowl, a pear, and bit into it with a hidden joy at feeling the fruit juice hit her taste buds. It suddenly made her savour the taste, linger on the ideal of food for longer than she had in a while. She quickly realised she hadn't tasted foods other than milk and bread for days and the taste of sweet foods quickly cause her stomach to rumble.
"It's good to see you awake, Lady Stark." The Maester sat beside Gendry spoke up, allowing Gendry to take a quick break from his studies in him joining in the conversation.
"Thank you, Maester Frenken." Arya smiled at the man sat across from her, leaning down on her arm so that the hip with the wound jutted out slightly - keeping it away from the wooden side of the table. With a smile she glanced up at the boy, curiosity lacing her eyes as she asked her question. "What are you learning Gendry?"
"Reading." The older boy answered abruptly and sternly, his eyes kept to the words on the page - the unknown markings that he'd never being able to understand. A little before he had gone over letters with the Maester, but now in the words he could see didn't seem to make sense anymore.
With Arya sat beside him he was finding it harder, with the pressure of an extra set of eyes on his words and his struggle. Her smile addled face and pure joy at the fact that she could stand and be with sat up in somewhere else other than her bed. There was more than that, she was laughing lightly at the words he stubbled on - not intentionally. Not intentionally at all, she was just struggling to control her joy and the wearing off of her drug addled mind. It all took it's tole. The little pleasures in life causing more joy than they ever had before, an honest smile on her lips for the reason of being well enough to stand.
"Mi'lady," Gendry turned to her, his eyes narrowed with annoyance and his words snarled out with little grace.
She looked up at him, laughter still spilling from her lips as she cast her eyes towards him. "Gendry." She mockingly said with a similar voice to the one he'd spoken to her with.
"Are you not tired?" He asked with a slight sharp seriousness to the tone.
"No." She smirked towards him as he turned his eyes back down to the paper as the Maester glared at him.
Moments of stuttered words passed painlessly by and Gendry slowly passed a rather simple page on the Baratheon house. Three long pages later and a knock was heard at the door. Tywin entered and called Arya to speak with him.
"I think that is all for today, Gendry." Maester Frenken slowly stood, sending a cautionary glance towards the shut door. He began to collect his books together, leaving on of the simple books on the desk for the boy to read at some point - with any hope.
"Thank you, Maester Frenken." Gendry stood, attempting to help the man before steppingg back slightly when he noticed he was just fumbling. "Will you be back tomorrow?" He asked, almost hopefully, not really noticing when the door opened across from them and Arya walked back in for once. He had, admittedly, enjoyed at least some of his lessons so far, and the King's Landing stationed Maester's guidance.
"I do not know, it will matter on Lord Tywin." Frenken glanced over the boy's hopeful look before turning to leave with a muttered 'good day' - he was not sure what he could have said to the boy, but he was sure it would not have helped.
Gendry stood at the table staring at the doorway for a few moments, not really sure what to say or do. Arya stood beside him, looking up at his face and hoping that he would say something to her - but he did not. The two stayed like that for a short while, long enough but not as if neither were
It was Arya who broke the silence, not Gendry. "Lord Tywin said there are clothes for me in my rooms." She stated, turning slightly towards the shut door she had entered through after her conversation with Tywin before turing to the door to her own rooms. She stepped a few strides towards her door, staring at her door with confusion before Gendry replied to her.
"He had a chest brought up here for you," Gendry said, staring at he back of her head before she turned to face him. She turned slowly, carefully on her feet as if the morning alone had already tired her out. Gendry wondered if responding to Sansa's request to see her sister that day was a bad idea. "It should be at the base of your bed."
She nodded and moved slowly into her room, ignoring the fact that Gendry was following behind her in preparation for any issues or any worries she may have had. He let her open the door on her own and the chest before he managed to glance into the piles of red and gold clothing before them. He sighed slightly and then turned to leave the room without another word. Arya narrowed her eyes at his fleeting form and heard an wolfish humph from under her bed. Arya crouched lowly down to see a pair of golden eyes staring up at her. She smiled, feel tears pool in her tired eyes - she had noticed that those dreams were not all just dreams in that moment.
Arya then heard footsteps approach and stood fully, pushing her hands into the quite neatly folded clothing and pulling out the top piece of clothing. "I sent one of the guards to get someone to help you get ready." Gendry said, leaning against the edge of the door with a rest of his hand on the wood. He glanced over the material in her hands and started sniggering slightly, trying to imagine her in something that odd.
"Stop it." She glared at him, dropping the material back onto the top of the pile so that the landed messily on top of the folded clothing and folded her arms over her chest. She took a few long strides and continued to glare the entire time.
He stopped abruptly, noticing how her glare was continuing strongly the entire time. "I apologise, mi'lady." Gendry bowed mockingly slightly, not surprised to find a fist planting into his chest when he did so. He found it hard to stop himself from laughing again, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing harder.
Her anger continued as she stood there before him, her small form reaching his shoulder but her glare seeming stronger than her own strength. "Don't-"
She was cut off by the the sudden sound of two sets of footsteps entering the rooms, Gendry turned to face them - finding two women looking at him with a slight confusion and worry in their eyes. They quickly pushed him aside and away from the rooms, sitting him down at the table with his book. He raised an eyebrow but did not argue since he did not truly understand what was happening.
Arya, on the other hand, quickly wished that Gendry had not asked for help for her. The two women took one look at Arya and decided to collect her clean water into a basin to wash her hands, feet and face once more. They did not touch her wounds, but they did look over them once or twice with a worry she did not want to see.
They then pulled clothing from the top of the chest, handing the many layers of the dress to the young girl and ignoring how they quickly pilled up.
Thankfully, for Arya, they decided that she could pull on her own small clothes. Allowing her that before the dress was draped over her form and the strings at the side pulled tightly so that her thin form was accented by the tightness of the dress. On her stomach, they pulled a tightening belt around. As they did so, Arya had paid little attention to the colours until she finally glanced down, seeing Lannister red staring up at her and not greys or even blues like her mother or sister had worn. Red.
She quickly dismissed the women, not even sure of their names as they left before fumbling with the skirts. Something, she assumed the colours, made her feel sickened by wearing the dress - she could not find it in her to say it to anyone. It was not that she wasn't brave, or strong, it was that she just didn't understand.
After she had glared at the dress for a few moments, she heard Nymeria whimper and so Arya grabbed the plate of cold food that someone had left for her and placed it under the bed. Nymeria whimpered once more at the sight of Arya, causing her to sigh once more. Once she had managed to stand up fully, she walked slowly out of the room and towards where Gendry was sat - engrossed in the words he was trying to read.
"Is my sister still here?" Arya paused at the table edge, pulling at the edges of the sleeves and turning to face the boy stood across the table from her. He had turned away from her whilst she walked back into the room and was slowly glancing his shoulder slightly when she asked him her question.
He turned to face her fully, glancing over her clothing quickly before he answered. "She should be coming to see you today, I think." A slight smile adorned his lips as he saw her eyes light up a little at the idea - although he had heard her complain many a time about her sister, he knew that he was right in what he had told Sansa: family is important. His smile lessened slightly at that idea but he kept his eyes on Arya's face, hoping she would not notice.
"Really?" Arya's eyes widened slightly, a slight smile honestly dancing over her lips, as if it was something that had never happened before. She then suddenly seemed shocked and worried by the fact that her sister was visiting that next day. "Why?" Her voice seemed shallowed through her question, causing Gendry's slight smile to drop.
"She asked." He smiled supportively at her, hoping she would understand that he was doing this for her and not for anyone else.
He just hoped it was something she would understand.
The day wore on and the sun rose until the shadows were short and the heat was strong. Gendry and Arya hd not moved from their seats very often, the table ladened with Gendry's books and morsels of food remaining from the bowls of fruit and plates of salted meat they had being brought throughout the morning.
It was then when a light rap against the door was heard and Lady Sansa was announced into the room.
She stood before them dressed in a pastel gown and Gendry quickly skirted out-of-the-way, allowing the duo time as he muttered his goodbyes. "I'll you leave you m'lady, Arya." He bowed his head and ducked out of the room, leaving with one last glance over the two and a reassuring smile towards the younger.
"Thank you Gendry." Sansa smiled over a the blacksmith as he left the room, glad that he had found a way for her to spend time alone with her sister - even if she was not sure it had been allowed by any Lord or Lady who watched over them. "How are you Arya?"
"I've felt better, Sansa." Arya stated, her eyes meeting her sisters with a tired look and worried gazes.
"So…" Sansa paused, hands clenching at her sides as she tried to find the words of something that did not remind the duo of the fact they were there - or the fact of when they last saw each other. With so much lingering on her mind she went with the topic that first came to mind, and had also just left the room. "Gendry?"
"He's a blacksmith, I met him on the road." Arya smiled and patted the seat beside her, she pushed what remained of the fresh, still whole, fruit towards her sister and allowed the bowl to make a slight swooshing sound over her words. Sansa sat with the same grace and elegance as she had before and it astounded her younger sister.
"Road? When you escaped here last?" Sansa asked, her voice peppered with curiosity as she plucked a pear from the bowl and took a bite. Her smile untamed as she sat opposite her sister - something that had not happened in what felt like decades.
"Yes. We were travelling north with the night's watch." Arya smiled at the light memories of when she first left King's Landing, when she could sit with Hot Pie, Lommy and Gendry and nothing would matter. A frown quickly reclaimed her features as she remembered the rest, as she remembered the days and weeks afterwards. "But that didn't work out." She did wonder where Hot Pie was and where they would have been by then if Yorren hadn't died - would she have gotten home? Would Robb or her family find her before then? Her eyes dropped to her palms.
"He would have killed you Arya." Sansa hissed out as she saw the face she pulled, the frown which danced over her younger sister's face soon danced over hers and she felt her cheeks loose what was once smiles of fake joys.
Arya looked up from her hands to reply to her sister. A small smile in hope to reassure the sister she once hated. "Gendry will watch both of us, he's strong." She was sure of that fact at least.
"I don't think he would be able to protect us from Joffery, Arya." Sansa frowned through her words, glancing down at her own hands. She then blankly stared at the wood before pulling a pitcher of water towards herself and pouring a goblet-full into the metal cups before her.
"What did he do to you?" Arya asked, her eyes fixed on the emptiness in her sister's actions. Her sister stayed tight-lipped however, her eyes fixed on the clear liquid that shimmered between her hands. "Sansa, what did he do?" She rephrased her question, hoping that it would get a response out of her sister and getting nothing more.
"I hate this place Arya, even with you here." Sansa replied, her voice echoing the bitter blank look she cast at the wood and Lannister sigil sitting on the edge of the table.
"We have to leave." Arya insisted to her sister, keeping her eyes set emptily on the material draped from the table. She pulled at it harshly, watching as it fell lamely to the ground - wishing that it was just as easy with more than just a scrap of Lannister material.
"Don't worry about me Arya." Sansa said nonchalantly, as if the words meant nothing to her. Her eyes fixed elsewhere than her sister, pausing for moments on the stone archways of the windows and the expanse of empty colours beyond.
Arya saw fit then to change the subject. "I saw you there," Sansa looked back to her sister with a reflex similar to a hares. Her eyes as wide as doe's when a hunting party was charging towards it - but confusing laced her gaze, as if she didn't understand. "That day, beside the queen and the council and Joffery." Arya paused for a few moments, gulping down a sort of lump that had formed in her throat as she thought back to the moment she was meaning: on the steps of Baelor, clinging to the statue - her hands still aching as if it was only a day ago. "I thought you had died when I saw you fall." She frowned down at her hands and back up at her sister's worried face.
"Who took you?" Sansa asked after a few more moments had passed, not remembering seeing her sister's face in the crowd that day. She, admittedly, tried not to think of that day. That so called mercy she had witnessed before her eyes. "Who saved you?" She rephrased her question when she had noticed her younger sister had not replied to her question.
"The man that came to see father about the Night's Watch." Arya explained, taking a drink of her water in an attempt to soften her suddenly dry throat. "Yorren." As she said his name she felt her eyes wander away from her sister's face and she once again took another sip of her water.
"They've hurt so many people in this." Sansa kept her frown still on her lips, taking a sip of her own water as she felt her throat dry. She wouldn't cry - no, the time for crying was long passed. She was not the same girl that came to King's Landing all that time ago.
"Robb will find a way to help us." Arya said, a glimmer of hope and dreaming glinting through her eyes as she placed the goblet down on the wooden slab of a table before them." Robb and mother will-"
"Arya." Sansa spoke, cutting off whatever dreams Arya was verbally imagining - bringing the younger girl back to the reality and harshness as the sound of clashing steel on steel echoed from the courtyard beyond the window filled the empty silence.
"We have to hope, Sansa." Arya said, meekly frowning down at her hands reminding herself of all of those times on the road, where she had lost all of the hope she had left in her. When they were at Harrenhal with the men who tortured men for fun or 'information' or when they were on the road back, when it almost was idealistic in a wartime for them to be so peaceful. "We have to."
"Who will come Arya?" Sansa asked her, disbelief ceasing her gaze as the older sister who often berated her over her dreams suddenly had even more unrealistic ones than she'd had herself. "Who can save us when they have to fight Lannister Armies to get here?" The older sister reasoned with the younger one, her hands lingering at the edges of the goblet with care - like if she touched it something would happen to it. "You saw what they did to Stannis' fleet."
"Robb is winning the war. I saw the armies. I saw their battlefields." Arya spoke, her voice filling the room - causing the older Stark sister to cringe slightly and glance towards the doorway before taking a long drink of her water.
"Can we stop talking about this now?" Sansa hissed out her question, hoping that her sister would take on what she was saying and understand. But she doubted she would, because she had not heard the rumours about the tunnels and the rooms that 'little birds' could listen through.
"You sound just like Gendry." Arya rolled her eyes at her sisters response and groaned at this. She didn't understand why they were all so adverse to talking about it - they were captives there, they were expected to talk about escaping.
Sansa knew that Arya was thinking about escaping, that was pretty obvious - but she had her own plan that was more likely to work than her sister's. She saw how her sister's gaze dropped slightly at the mention of her friend and quickly jumped at the opportunity to change the conversation. "Arya, what happened?"
"He figured it out." The younger Stark spoke her words glumly, as if it was something she'd forced herself to think over time and time again. Though this wasn't true, it still nagged at her mind. "He saw me and Gendry at Harrenhall."
Sansa was not sure how to respond to this - her sister was speaking in clipped sentences that relied on her responding with only more questions. But she had learnt to not ask to many questions in King's Landing, meaning that she couldn't find the words to ask her sister another question.
The younger Stark quickly noticed the silence and stood up, a little too quickly and cringed at the feeling that shot through her side. Sansa noticed this, of course, and frowned. "What happened to you, in the battle, should never have happened."
"I wouldn't have happened if we hadn't tried to escape." Arya spoke with truth lingering on her voice, honesty and reflection momentarily glinting in her eyes. At that she heard a slight growl from the bed room she had being sleeping in - so she walked towards the sound and sat down on the bed beside the wolf.
"You don't know, about the games they play here, do you?" Sansa asked, perching herself beside where her sister had sat on the feather bed.
"I will manage." Arya smiled sadly to herself, lacing her fingers through the thick matted fur at Nymeria's side, the side nearest to her with clenched fingers and lessening tension. "I have Nymeria and Gendry." She glanced down at the wolf's fur, stroking long lengths down the wolf's belly and looking down into her saddened and tired eyes. "Gendry said something to me this morning, about Lord Tywin." Arya glanced back up at Sansa as she spoke, keeping her hands in Nymeria's fur as she said her words. "He says he dresses me up like his daughter and stations guards outside our doors as if he is afraid of something."
"He is right, Arya." The older Stark said with saddened eyes, if the blacksmith's apprentice could realise it than she hoped that her younger sister could take it in as well. She leant over to her sister's dire wolf with a wondering gaze, confusion lacing her eyes as she remembered that Nymeria had being sent away by her younger sister that frightful day she lost Lady. Sansa let her fingers lace through the dire wolf's fur and stroke down the wolf's side - her question about Nymeria dissipating in her mouth as her sister spoke.
"Why didn't you try to escape?" Arya asked her sister once more.
"Arya." Sansa sighed, realising that Arya was still fixating on this subject. "Don't-"
"Sansa, why didn't you?" She cut her sister off, insisting once more on asking these questions.
"You don't know what's it's like here." Sansa snapped back, hissed through gritted teeth. "What it was like before you came back."
"We will get back home." Arya promised Sansa, looking her sister in the eyes. When she saw her sister's eyes look doubtful at this fact, she insisted more. "We will." She smiled slightly, not a true smile, but one that managed to cause her sister to believe that Arya was telling whatever truth was true to her. "And we shall stay in Winterfell and rule with Robb because there will be no Queen Regents or Kings to tell us we are wrong." Arya saw her sister smile slightly at this idea as Arya's untrue smile dropped slightly, it almost brought a true smile of its own onto her lips."And we won't be called traitors."
"And Gendry?" Sansa asked, frowning slightly to herself as she reminded herself it was only an idealist dream they were wishing for.
"Gendry can come too." Arya smiled, pulling slightly at her own hair before continuing. "We'll sit beside Robb - where father used to sit, and Bran will ride in a saddle made specially for him - like the one Robb wrote about." Arya created an image in her head of the halls of Winterfell light with soft firelight from torches, with her family there and everything was normal. Sometimes the image showed her father, and the direwolves, or some of the men like Jory or Ser Rodrick. But then she would bring herself back to the ground, think about the living, think about how they must feel - her brothers, her mother. "And mother can tell me off for messing up my dresses and plait your hair in the Northron style."
"Tell me more, Arya." Sansa liked the sound of this world, this world imagined up of peace and love. Of safety, of home. She loved the idea of it all, the thought of it, the dreams she could have of it.
"Help me then Sansa." Arya smiled lightly, enjoying the idea all the more.
Gendry leaned over the edge of the light tiled fountain, the crystalline water glittered with shimmers of fading summer sun as the final darting flings of coloured flowers wilted at the edges of the flower beds. It must have been beautiful, once - he mused as he turned to sit down at the fountain's edge. He wished that he could actually do something there, but he couldn't read half as good as he liked and he didn't think the keep had a blacksmith that would welcome the Baratheon bastard with open arms. He sighed at that thought and got up to walk away from the fountain. He strolled around the edges of the gardens - along the flower and grass lines tiled and dirt pathways. Thorough the canopy lead short hallways and out into more open space. Making sure to avoid the eyes that seemed to watch him and to remember the way he was walking. Because soon enough he would need to head back.
After looping around the garden once, he decided to make the pattern again. Past where the Tyrell's sat and looked up at him at he passed - some of the girls giggling when he glanced wide eyed at them, an elderly lady rolling her eyes in annoyance at them. He assumed that if he ever talked with the lady, they would get on. Past where septas sat with young girls, teaching them sewing or poetry or other things which Arya often expressed her hate for. Past where knights fought with each other in practise, in padded shirts and breeches which he abhorred. But then he had been forced into them whilst they were travelling south.
He looped around the gardens twice before sitting at the fountain's edge. His eyes cast to the ground mostly, sometimes darting back to the closed door of the rooms Tywin had them share. Joined by a few other rooms and a stairwell to the main section of the Tower of the Hand. It was obvious to him that Sansa was still yet to leave - since her honour guard still stood outside of the door.
He glanced down at his feet, kicking some dust up with the sole of his boot, when a shadow stopped over his head.
"I hadn't thought Lord Tywin was letting his new wards out of their rooms." Gendry looked up to find a well-dressed grey-haired man around the age of his old master staring down at him. The man held a thick leather-bound book to his chest - with it's lavishly embossed cover pressed against the lapel of the obviously expensive material. At the clasp of his cloak was the pin of a mockingbird - of which in his little time studying with Arya and sometimes Lord Tywin he recognised.
"Lord Baelish," Gendry frowned as the man sat beside him. He had learnt from Arya's thoughts she had expressed to him that he was not a nice man, or one to be trusted. "He isn't, but Arya is speaking with mi'lady Sansa and I thought it best to give them space."
"Women always seem to need space when talking, I have found." Lord Baelish laughed to himself slightly - not noticing how Gendry looked ah him with a slight annoyance. Gendry wished to be alone again now that Lord Baelish was there. "Walk with me, boy."
"I'd rather not mi'lord. I'm not sure Lord Tywin would approve of me wandering too far from the tower." Gendry said, staying seated when Baelish stood up prepared to walk with him around the garden. Baelish turned to him, a frown marring his perfectly kept facial hair.
"You have already wandered the garden twice," Baelish said pointedly, glancing down at boy who relented and stood slowly. He followed Lord Baelish's lead, his eyes levelled on the man with unease.
"Okay, Lord Baelish. But only once more." Gendry said, hesitant in the fact that Lord Baelish had known exactly that fact. But he did not verbalise it. "Arya had asked me to... Work with her on somethings - so I must be back soon." He chose his words carefully, he was honest but ever since Lord Tywin sat him down that day when Arya was hurt and told him not to trust anyone except Arya - he knew he had to be careful.
"Well we mustn't keep Lady Stark waiting for too long then." Baelish said, leading the way for Gendry to follow him on the route the boy had taken moments before. "How long have you know Lady Stark? If you don't mind my asking."
Gendry hesitated. No good ever came of a lord asking questions, he reminded himself. "Arya... Around a few months, it was just after her father had died..." He said, noticing how interested Baelish seemed in this topic. He guessed that the Master of Coin has been asked by someone to find out this sort of information.
"And you were with the Night's Watch?" Gendry made a sound of agreement, trying not to think on how honourable men had died to save them, how Yorren had protected them before they were taken to Harrenhall.
"You already know this story, Lord Baelish." Gendry said pointedly, his eyes glancing around the garden once more, scanning the people who he had seen before as they were joined by others of the same dress and style - no familiar face or even a stance he felt he could smile at.
"So I do." Baelish smiled, noticing the discomfort in boy and causing his leer to widen slightly. Gendry, had he been looking the Master of Coin in the eye, would have tried to leave then - or at least be stop the conversation where it was. But instead, he decided to continue.
"Why did you wish to speak with me, Lord Baelish?" Gendry kept a rather singular and board tone to his voice, hoping that the Lord before him would understand this and try to keep their conversation short. But he truly doubted that since he was only the Hand's 'ward' and a bastard at that - he was not a lordling and he was not a prince.
"I wanted to know where you want to be in this game" Baelish's words were crafted in such a way that any passerby would have frozen in their tracks more than the boy before him did. Because any passerby in that courtyard would understand the question and it's phrasing.
"Game?" Gendry paused slightly in his steps, his voice confused at the idea and metaphor the older man was saying.
"The game everyone in this court plays." Baelish smiled, raising his eyebrow slightly and grinning with a thinly lined grin of knowing. Gendry once again averted his eyes from the man's face, the muscles in his jaw moving slightly with annoyance as he tried to find the words to reply.
"I do not want to be playing it." The boy knew it sounded bitter, that it sounded almost childish when it came to the place he stood - but it was at least truthful, that he could admit.
"But which of the five kings would you want to see on the throne?" Gendry had started walking once more as he heard Baelish speak. He paused slightly, turning to face the Master of Coin on the balls of his heels.
"If you want to know my loyalty, Lord Baelish, then you truly do not look as hard as you think you do." Gendry spoke briskly, his words bitter and almost harsh - but yet emotionless, as if there was nothing else he could say, as if it was almost obvious what he was saying
"Her." Baelish smiled to himself as he said the word, confirming that the idea was obvious to everyone around. "You rely to much on a young girl." Baelish spoke bitterly out his words with a roll of the eye.
"The King is younger than I, and you rely on him." Gendry spoke pointedly, his eyes not glancing towards the man beside him as he continued to walk back towards the fountain, passed where the knights practised fighting and the septa's taught. He hoped that Baelish would leave him then, would not continue that conversation.
Gendry's point was made, but after a few long moments Baelish spoke once more to the boy. "I assume you know by now." His voice had dropped a tone and the conversation with it. Baelish now was not probing for information but was confirming it - and making sure, in that process, that the boy before him was understanding of everything.
"I know." Gendry, in that change, knew what Baelish meant. How secretive he had become about the subject revealed all to the blacksmith and he spoke true to the man. "And it does not matter to me."
"Does it not?" Baelish asked with a glint in his eyes, a smirk exaggerated once more to his lips and his hand tightened lighting on the bind of the golden leafed book.
"Not to me." Gendry spoke with a plain voice, emotion void in the words. He was fed up, the thought of the time continuing laden on his brain with annoyance and struggle. "I have other things to fear."
"You are smarter than you seem." Baelish spoke with almost sounded appreciative of the boy in his remark. His eyes scanning the ground before them as the young man's eyes snapped to the elder's face with almost pure shock, a misunderstanding or mishearing he hoped. The elder man smirked to himself.
The Baratheon bastard scanned the face of the once banner-less nobel man with a searching gaze - trying to be sure that what he had heard was what had come from the older man's mouth. When he was sure it was, a few moments later, he replied. "Most say that."
They walked in silence for a few moments, the time dragging through the trees that passed until Baelish found it sufficiently awkward. "Why does your Lord Lannister want you and her here?" He asked the boy, pausing slightly in his steps so that the boy stopped beside him and turning to face him with another seeking gaze.
"I'm sure you know better than I do." Gendry replied bitterly, his feet pausing for less than a second to look the man in the eyes before continuing his path back to the fountain.
Baelish strode to catch up with the blacksmith, the man's strides matching the younger's with a constant speed. As the fountain came into sight, he once again posed another question to the boy. "How is Lady Arya faring?"
"She is well," Gendry said quickly, only glancing towards the elder man when he did not hear a reply. When he saw a scathing look coming from the man, he quickly tacked on the words that followed. "well better than she was."
"You stayed by her side throughout?" Baelish smiled to himself at this admission, knowing that it took something in the boy to say those words with such honesty.
"She is the reason I am alive, Lord Baelish." Gendry stopped and looked directly at the man beside him, the fountain framing the man in the background - as if it was taunting him. "I cannot leave her behind." He admitted and was almost surprised by the fact the man had not yet smirked to his admission. "I'm sure you can understand this."
"I understand," Baelish said, dusting off his clothing and brushing his fingers through his beard. "I understand perfectly." He turned, slowly and moved in a sweeping motion away. A smile glinting on the man's face as Gendry was left on the fountain's edge to ponder the words.
When Baelish finally left his company, Gendry sighed loudly, enough for the Tyrell girls beside him to burst out into a fit of giggles. Both his eyebrows raised at them causing then to giggle more.
Gendry decided to continue walking then, incredibly confused by how the young women were acting. He continued his walk, sitting back down at the fountain and starting hesitantly at the doorway to their rooms.
He did not notice the well dressed silks of Lord Varys approach in the sun glazed air. The Lords golden and floral silk clothing shimmered in the light - but not enough for the young boy to notice him.
"You hesitate." Varys smiled slightly, bowing his head towards the boy and trying to keep eye contact with him. His hands were still folded in the bellows of his sleeves but the boy had no care for how the man stood.
"Lord Varys" Gendry spoke clearly, but with very little emotion about him. He was as bothered by the man's presence as he was bothered about the sway of trees or the sing of birds. What Gendry was bothered about was the man's purpose, because he was quickly realising that everyone in that courtyard had some purpose for him to for fill and no one of them sounded promising. He then quickly remembered his manners and went to stand.
"Don't stand boy, let me join you." Shocked by Lord Varys' response, Gendry sat down abruptly and allowed the man to sit down beside him in movements that seemed as if he was larger than the figure the man had. "You have already marched around the gardens once more by Lord Baelish - I'm sure you would like the rest." Varys laughed lightly at what he was saying and the look the boy cast him.
"How did you-" Gendry was initially outraged at the idea, but quickly understood from the look Varys gave him and what he had being told about the "ah."
"How are you finding the Red Keep?" Varys asked the boy, seeming actually interested in the subject more than Baelish had - but still he was cautious.
"Grand." The typical answer spat out from Gendry's lips, his eyes slowly glancing towards where the door to the tower was still watched over by Sansa's gossips who probably would want to know what the Stark sisters were discussing.
"Boy. I am not Lord Baelish." Varys hoped that his words got across to the boy, hoping that this would somehow cause the boy to be more open with him - but he doubted that would happen heavily
"But you know everyone's secrets." Gendry stated, turning to look the man in the eye with his statement. Varys seemed to lean back slightly at this, as if seeing a ghost of his past or hearing something that caused him great fear - Gendry assumed it was the first.
"And everyone at court knows yours, you have nothing to fear from me." Varys stated. He was better at crafting his words than Baelish was, Gendry admitted in his head - noticing how if it was not for the constant tellings of trust no-one he may have trusted Varys.
"And everyone at court tells me to fear you, mi'lord" Gendry stated the words as if they were more for his own benefit rather than for Varys to hear. The words were reminding the young blacksmith that this was not a time to trust any of them.
"My little birds tell me that, but then you haven't fled." Varys spoke as if the words were almost a throw away comment, but with the weight they held it was more like trying to throw away an iron statue.
Gendry froze in his seat, trying to find the right words to reply with the right weight. "I have stood in a camp full of people who would kill me if they knew my name." He kept his voice low, not really wanting those around him to hear. He knew Varys probably already knew what he was speaking about, probably having already heard it from his 'little birds' - but, once more, Gendry was selling these words to himself. "And I armed them." The words turned bitter in his mouth, causing him to turn back to face the bald man and look him directly in the eye before continuing. "You are not someone I should fear."
"I've heard many people say that you are cleverer than you seem." Varys said to the boy, a slight grin reaching his lips as he scanned over the look he saw cast from the boy.
"I've heard the same." Gendry spoke, the bitter tone of before lingering on the words from the sentences he had spoken before. He allowed it to, because he did not want to find himself trusting anyone in the court - he had being warned enough from the few times he had spoken with Arya, or even Tywin, about King's Landing.
"I'm sure, by now, you know the truth about your apprenticeship," Varys seemed to ask, pausing for a moment when he saw the rather confused face on the young man's face. "Or at least the rumours that swim in the air of court."
"No." Gendry said, an eye brow raising slightly but his words not doing the same, his words keeping a constant tone throughout the word, and the words that followed. "I have not heard."
"No, you haven't." Varys agreed, as if he was confirming the point in his own mind or checking it off a list that no one could see. "But then you haven't left your lady's bedside." He was not asking Gendry this, he was stating it as if it was common knowledge and leaving him with no room to disagree.
"Arya is not m'lady." Gendry disputed, spluttering slightly to quickly say words that he knew Arya would agree with. For he knew she hated the idea of belonging to someone and being a lady in equal measure.
"Isn't she?" Varys asked, a light tone in his voice.
The younger paused for a moment before replying. "She doesn't like to be called a Lady." He spoke quicker than it had taken for him to find the words to say.
"Why did you leave her side today?" Varys asked the boy, something in his voice seeming to Gendry like he already knew why he had left Arya's side.
"She needed time alone with her sister." Gendry spoke, his voice rigid and strong with a frame he was building around the words to be sure he was prepared for whatever followed in the questioning.
"So you decided to leave the tower, alone?" Varys asked with simple glances to either side. His eyes cast past the boy as if he was observing the others around them, or a the person behind them.
"I needed air." Gendry answered sharply, a bitter snark sat against his work as it cut the conversation to a close as the building fury cauterised any attempts to continue with it.
"There is a forge here, if you ever want to see it." Varys stated to the boy, allowing the boy's to look on at him in shock and wonder at why the older man was telling him this. But then he realised that he shouldn't really seem too shocked, because this was a castle and there would always be a forge in a castle.
"I would, at some point." He paused, noticing that he sounded a little too excited but suddenly not caring. Remembering what he had being taught that day and all those times back on the Street of Silver, he quickly spoke up again - adding "Lord Varys" to his sentence.
"I'm glad to hear that." Varys smiled to himself, a sight that seemed odd to the blacksmith - making him feel rather suspicious about the smile. "I will not keep you, I am needed elsewhere and you will need to get back to your lady."
"Thank you, Lord Varys." Gendry said as the man turned slightly away from him in sweeping movements. "Good Day."
"Good Day, Gendry." The man paused slightly, bowing his head to the boy and making sure to pronounce his name fully. Gendry decided as he watched the man walk away that he would not trust sweeping movements, because every man in Kings Landing seemed to have them.
Gendry walked quickly away from the fountain, his shoulders hunched as he moved to the nearest wall and pushed his shoulders against the stone walls to cool his back and the tension there. He shut his eyes for a moment, rubbing the muscles there to stop the build up there. He then pursed his lips, opened his eyes wide and began to walk back towards his rooms - hoping that the Stark sisters were caught up enough for him to join them.
However as he turned the corner he accidentally barged into the small form of one of the ladies, as he murmured and stuttered out his apologies he heard a soft voice say her own. "Oh I'm sorry," He looked up at the face of the young queen to be and stumbled over more apologies - but his voice quickly stopped in his throat as she looked as if she was about to speak once more. "Gendry, isn't it?"
"Lady Margery." Gendry nodded lightly, his throat sticky and trapping the words he had tried to say and stopping whatever thought of objection he'd had before they could be uttered.
"How long have you being in court Lord Gendry?" The Tyrell girl asked with hands folded at her waist, her head cocked lightly to one side as she said her words, as if she was some pristine doll with a slight rock on the pivot of it's head.
"I am no Lord, m'lady." Gendry stated, folding his hands before his chest with a slight glance towards his hands. He folded his fingers over the callous of his palms, his eyes glancing over the bumps in the soft dip in the palms. "I'm just a blacksmith's apprentice." He smiled to himself, it was a novel idea he just wanted to return to.
"Well it is a pleasure to meet you, anyway - Gendry." Margaery spoke with a smile, pausing to look over the boy before she said his name.
"I apologise m'lady, I need to return to Lady Arya." Gendry bowed his head slightly, preparing to leave once again when her voice cut through to him.
"Then let me walk with you, Gendry." She said with a smile, offering her his arm which he politely refused with a slight movement of his hand. He knew from how men had acted around women when they came into the forge to never take a women's arm or they see it as some romantic gesture. He did not want to end up on his 'brother's' bad side even more. "I'm going towards that area anyway." At the sight of the fountain and water pitcher, Gendry ducked towards it and attempted to elegantly pour water into a goblet - attempted as when he did so the water sloshed lightly over the rim of the goblet and pooled down the sides. He offered the goblet to Lady Margaery in an attempt to still seem slightly gentleman-like but she politely declined, allowing him to take a sip before asking speaking once more to him. "You never answered my question."
"Your question?" Gendry raised an eyebrow before taking a long sip from the water and savouring the feeling of it trickling down his throat. He had being outside in the late summer - early autumn - air for too long and it was soon effecting him.
"How long have you being at court?" Margaery smiled sweetly with her question hanging in the air. Gendry glanced up at her through the rim of his water goblet, placing it down on the wood beside her before responding.
"Since just before the battle, m'lady" He replied briskly, walking once more towards where the pathway that lead towards the rooms he shared with Arya.
"Then we are both new." Margaery continued to smile as she walked beside the blacksmith, her hands swinging lightly at her sides in an almost childlike manner - playful. Gendry wasn't quite sure it was intentional but he didn't really want to question the actions of the queen-to-be.
"I guess, m'lady." Gendry spoke with his eyes cast towards the ground, he hadn't really cared about what happened in the court - so he hadn't really cared that he was new there. He cared more that he was there.
"How is Lady Arya?" The woman seemed to have noticed his lingering gazes and changed the subject. Her smile seeming quite knowing when he glanced up suddenly to see her almost comforting eyes - sympathy setting in them. "I heard she wasn't so well."
"She is doing better. Maester Frenken said she will be able to wander the gardens soon." Gendry could feel the words he was fabricating seem bitter and almost fuzzy in his mouth - as if they were more than the lie he was repeating to every member of court who asked.
"Lady Margery, Gendry." The sound of the new voice joining the conversation made Gendry jump slightly with surprise - in astonishment that he hadn't heard someone else approach. He glanced around before laying his eyes on the youngest Lannister and feeling glad for it.
"Lord Tyrion." Margaery's smile continued to be relayed to the imp. The smile giving little away of what the young woman was thinking - Gendry was sure that she would fit in nicely at the court and not stick out like sore thumbs as Arya and he seemed to.
"I was wondering if I could steal this boy away from you for a moment, my lady?" Tyrion asked, bowing slightly to the young woman as he spoke to show his respect to her.
"Of course, my lord." She continued to smile and turned sharply towards the younger of the two men. "Goodbye Gendry." The boy did not stare after the woman as she left, he kept his head bowed and eyes averted.
After neither of the men had moved or said a word to the other, Gendry finally spoke up. "Lord Tyrion?" He looked down at the man with more confusion and questioning than was posed in his question.
"You looked in need of help, m'boy." Tyrion explained, smiling crookedly up at the boy. His eyes scarred by age and his scarless face almost glad to see the boy's own features - as if he knew something the boy didn't.
"Thank you m'lord." Gendry said, almost gratefully. With honesty he was glad that the smaller man had decided to join him, as he had felt quite awkward and out-of-place in the company of Lady Tyrell, especially with the fact his 'brother' was engaged to her.
The imp smiled slightly at the younger man's thanks and continued his well-chosen works."Go on, get back to your lady - I'm sure Lady Sansa wouldn't mind you joining your friend now." He said with a small smile at the look that light up the boy's eyes - as if it was something he had being hoping to hear the entire time the boy had being out of his rooms
In truth, it was.
"Thank you m'lord." The boy thanked the smaller - in height - man with words that seemed so jumbled as they touched his lips that he wasn't sure what he had said. But the man before him smiled and nodded, understanding and allowing the boy leave.
Which Gendry took quickly in hurried steps towards the slab of wood before a sandstone hole into his rooms. Dust coughed up into the air as his feet hit down against the heavy slabs on the floor. He dodged the groups of men and women he saw stroll pass - the leather of his well-worn boots hardening under each slam. The mud that once caked his shoes breaking off and facing the cold air on the stone. Every thing in air seemed to be soaked with pain and lies, including each slam of the young boys feet to the ground. He didn't speak or mutter any quick apology to anyone who had to move aside for him to storm past.
That was until he turned one corner at a speed faster than he had intended, slipping slightly as he had overestimated the speed he had to go and had underestimated the smoothness of the rock. He stumbled and caught his feet but not before hearing an annoyed cough come from the two beside him who's conversation he had interrupted.
He turned at the sound, his gaze moving slower over the two highborns than he had intended to. Within a few seconds of glancing over them he soon realised who he had disrupted - the Queen Regent and Lord Baelish and apologised profusely. "I'm sorry, your grace, m'lord." Gendry stumbled on his words quickly, casting his eyes to the ground with flushed cheeks of embarrassment as he felt their gazes scanning his form.
"It's okay, boy." Cersei's voice seemed overly sweetened to the younger boy. "Where are you running so fast to?"
"I need to get back to my rooms, your grace." Gendry kept his eyes down as he answered the woman's question, honesty keeping his words in check as he thought of what could happen if he was found lying to the woman before him. Especially after what had happened during the Battle of Blackwater Bay.
"And you needed to run to do this?" Cersei's voice sharpened in her question, becoming as sharp as the swords he once created or the Needle Arya carried.
"I have being gone for a rather long while, your grace." He explained quickly, trying to keep his eyes down to the sandstone floor as much as possible. He was not her equal, he was at minimum a nobody and at most a traitor and a royal bastard. He needed to survive and casting his eyes down worked for him whenever a noble asked him name, he hoped that the woman before him would do the same - because then she might follow the same fate as those before and that would please Arya.
"How is your Lady Arya?" The Queen regent asked with a thin smile and folded hands. Her eyes scanning the boys reaction with interest that seemed piqued by the entire situation.
"Arya is much better, thank you your grace." The boy nodded, smiling lightly and being sure to remember all of his courtesies in what he was saying.
"Better? I thought that she had being unwell for quite some time." Cersei questioned, seeming interested in what he was saying but Gendry knew not everything felt right. He didn't know very well how these fancy people acted - he knew who he had been told to trust - but he did know how people acted, on the docks and in the forge, so he knew well enough.
"I was told by Maester Frenken that she should be able to wander the gardens soon, your grace" Lord Baelish answered for the boy, surprise widening in the boys eyes as he quickly realised the truth of the matters.
"How soon?" The queen asked, not facing her question to the Baratheon bastard but the Master of Coin beside her.
"I'm not sure." Baelish replied, trailing off slightly in his words and allowing them to patter by with no remorse.
"About a week, your grace." Gendry cut in, allowing the glares of the two highborns before him to not phase him in the slightest.
"A week? That seems like such a long time to be bedridden." Cersei widened her eyes slightly, playing along with whatever she thought to be crafting to the young man.
"She is getting rather fed up, but then she is spending time with her family." Gendry explained, not caring if the two before him actually wanted to hear his words. "So I was leaving her be, your grace." His eyes had cast slightly to the side and in sudden notice he flashed his eyes back to the Queen Regent with his 'your grace'.
"You care for her." Cersei noted to herself, staring off for a moment's pass.
"Yes I do. Good day, your grace. M'lord." Gendry hoped not to sound too brisk with the two before him as he ducked away. Allowing the dust to cough up once more below his feet.
Returning to the wooden slab that covered the doorframe into their rooms was something that Gendry had never been happier to see in most of his life time. There was something about that simple subtle wood that opened up to him and made him feel notably better about whatever had happened before. Well it was the wood, he thought, or the laughter.
Flowing through the wood with open glee and interest was a sound Gendry was confused to be hearing, laughter. And at that girlish laughter. It was something unexpected - and intriguing. Sounds like summer birds on the winter wind or something just as unusual. More so because Gendry knew who was inside the rooms.
He walked in, unannounced and passed the two guards stationed towards where the two ladies sat. "Mi'ladies, I am surprised for you to be sounding so happy." Gendry almost felt a smile tug at his lips as he entered the confines of the shared room.
"Gendry!" Arya seemed to exclaim, a yellow cake in her hands as he glanced on at her wide eyed and confused.
"One of the squires bought Lemoncakes, would you like one Gendry?" Sansa explained with much more grace than her sister had shown.
"Lemoncakes?" Gendry asked, his eyes glancing over the yellow substance with an odd confusion.
"Yes!" Arya pulled a small amount off of her cake and pushed it in Gendry's direction. "here"
Gendry took the cake and ate it, joyful for the food in his mouth. He savoured the taste but the sustenance was more availed. "what else were you talking about to make you all so happy?" He then asked, a smile laced proudly on his lips knowing that he had 'caused' these smiled in the two young women.
"We were talking about Winterfell!" This time it was Sansa's turn to exclaim. A joy laced smile sat truly on her lips with memories of joy sitting on her mind. "And of when Arya used to get all of the squires to fight with her even though they were all scared of hurting her."
If only it could have stayed that way, a voice told the blacksmith in his mind. He knew once that it was once truly like that for him as well - and now the young lady couldn't even try to fight until her wound healed up. It was something that was difficult for her, he knew that. But it was something else to her, it was like loosing a comfort blanket that she was only piecing together with the memories she had - fed on by Sansa and Gendry.
And in that smile Gendry saw that. And in that smile he knew it wouldn't last.
A/N2
So I blame three things for some of the imagery and styling in this:
One: Epic tiredness
Two: Moderately bad timing
Three: Of Mice and Men/An Inspector Calls studying.
Also the scenes with Gendry are his first impressions of the characters he's meeting - and most of all are his views or set up for later plot points because I've finally sorted the plot out completely... I think... I hope...