Arya

"Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me," Arya sang under her breath as the bus jolted, nearly sending her crashing into the window. The world outside spun away, a blur of trees and grass and empty buildings, but Arya remained trapped. Unmoving, her fingers trailing absent patterns on the glass.

"Happy birthday dear Arya... Happy birthday to me."

She breathed on the glass, her warm breath heating the cool glass with a coat of frosty moisture. Gently, she trailed her fingers to create a tiny birthday cake with candles. It would be the closest thing she'd get to a happy birthday, and the only recognition that this day was different from any ordinary day. Just a sad, dripping drawing was the only thing that told the world that Arya Stark was seventeen today. Not that the world cared or anything.

'Make a wish.'

For a moment she stared at the fading cake and candles, and contemplated what she would wish for... But there was nothing to wish for. Wishes never came true. Wishes were bullshit.

She reached out and harshly wiped the drawing away, the skin of her palm squeaking against the glass.

Next to her Gendry shifted, but when she turned, she saw that he was still sleeping. She turned away to look back out the window. She hadn't talked to him in three days, and she had done her best to not look at him either. It would be a shame to put all her hard work to waste and look at him now.

She was so angry with him it almost hurt. She couldn't even think about him without her heart turning black. She could never forgive him for letting them get away. Not only did he let the Lannisters get away, he also got them both caught. At this point it almost felt like he was adding insult to injury.

But he wouldn't have the decency to leave her alone, oh no. No he had his fucking job to consider, and now that Yoren was gone, he followed her like a shadow. She never talked to him, never looked at him, but she knew he was there. If she wasn't so angry with him it might have been comforting. As it was...

She had awoken three nights ago to realize that her head was on his shoulder, and to feel the weight of his head on hers. It was a strange feeling, a choking one. She had fallen asleep countless times on Jon's shoulder like that. Being so close to Gendry made her feel strangely lonely.

She had balled up the extra jacket around her shoulders and placed it where her head had been, so as not to wake him. She stood. Brushing herself off and checked her watch. She hadn't slept long, scarcely a half an hour, but she never slept long, if at all. This had been a new record for her.

Creeping quietly, she saw Yoren standing by the door, looking out through a crack in the wood and out at the world beyond. She stood by him for a while, looking with him, and the silence stretched on for what must have been a long time.

"There's a storm coming," Yoren said softly, pulling away. "You best be ready for it."

That's when he handed her the keys to the cop car where the three men where locked up. No explanation, if fact he said not a single word, but somehow Arya could sense why he had given her the keys. Because the storm came. It came that very night, two hours later.

And she was ready when it did.

In the mayhem and the fighting, she remembered the keys in her pocket and had pushed through the crowd, dodging the bullets and blows and racing into the night, expecting darkness only to realize that the world was ablaze. Blinking, she had whipped around.

The cop car was on fire. One of the thugs must have thrown a match in only seconds before...

"BOY!"

The man with the accent didn't have to yell. Quick as a flash, Arya threw the keys to his outstretched hands...

He rolled out of the car just in time, but his companions were not so lucky. No sooner had he escaped the flames, the car exploded, the impact of the blast sending Arya flat on her back, rubble and pieces of flaming metal raining down on her.

When she clamored to her feet again, he was gone.

She hadn't even bothered to look for him. She knew she wouldn't have found him. Instead, she went back to the fighting, saved Gendry's ass about three million times and bitterly regretted that she had. She should have just let him die. She should have, but... She couldn't. Gendry hadn't meant to hurt her, or get them caught, he was just stupid.

The bus gave another jolt again, and this time it woke Gendry. She heard him cough next to her and felt him stretch slightly, but she still refused to look at him. It was immature and stupid, but sometimes she needed to be immature and stupid. It was either that or go crazy.

There came loud swearing from up front, and Arya peeked over the seats to see the driver, a huge man three times the size of Gendry, swear and slam his fist into the controls. This caused the bus to jolt again, this time even more violently. So violently that Arya was thrown into Gendry's lap.

She quickly scrambled away, still not looking at him, ignoring his mumbled 'sorry' and his gaze. He wanted to make it right with her, she knew. She knew he probably hated her rejection and total indifference. When she stole a glance at him, she saw the regret in his eyes. 'Whatever,' she thought moodily to herself, 'it's his own damn fault.'

There came another roar of fury from the man driving the bus, and the bus jolted again. They called him the Mountain, and Arya had seen him before. She had seen him hit a man so hard, he broke his neck. She was not looking to make friends with him, strangely enough.

There was a screeching of the brakes and the bus pulled off down a dirt road, slowing down until it stopped. The Mountain growled, quite loudly, and then kicked at the controls before stomping off the bus. Arya took this as a signal that it was time to get off the bus. Everyone else did as well.

Their company had tripled from it's previous size, though there were few to none from their original party. When the Mountain had shoved Arya and Gendry back to the warehouse, only a few people remained standing. Hot Pie was among them, looking and smelling like he had pissed his pants. Greenhands was alive, gasping in pain from a bullet hole in his leg, but that was quickly changed.

"You'll have to carry me, you twats," he had said, and no sooner were the words out of his mouth, than a bullet was laid into his skull. After that, no one said a word. Not one.

It was growing dark outside, and Arya was grateful for her bulky boys clothes, though they served no disguise anymore. The first day she had tried to hold it for so long... But when they stopped to take a piss, there was no privacy, though Gendry had tried to get her some. She hadn't thanked him for that, mainly because she was so upset when it didn't work. All he got was a swift blow to the head, and she had had to relieve herself like the rest of them, squatting down in front of everyone. There was no such thing as privacy with their new friends.

"Where are we going?" Gendry had asked an old woman on the bus. She had shrugged.

"Don't know," she said. "Doesn't matter. Not many of us will get there anyway."

She seemed right. Their kidnappers were looking for something, it seemed. At first they had been looking for Gendry, which had gotten them into this whole mess in the first place, but where ever they were going, it was for questioning.

"Where is the Brotherhood?"

"What's the Brotherhood?" Hot Pie had wanted to know.

"Do yourself a favor, boy, and don't ask," the old woman had said, and that was the closest they had gotten to an answer.

After that it was just a big load of silence.

The twilight was setting in, bathing the woods around them in a dusky light as they all crowded around, silent as mice. Arya hated it, being such a sheep, but what was she going to do? What was there to do when they took people off to the woods and the people didn't come back? Being brave was not an option here. The brave people were the first to disappear.

The Mountain screamed and kicked the bus again, but nothing else happened besides his excessive swearing. Arya shifted from foot to foot as he screamed and swore, until finally he seemed to grow tired of it, and, giving the bus one last, horribly murderous look, he turned back to the group.

"We'll have to walk the rest of the way to Harrenhal," he said in his sandpaper voice. "This piece of shit isn't going anywhere."

"Harrenhal?" Hot Pie whimpered in her ear. "Isn't that the shut down amusement park? Nobody's been there in ages, I hear it's haunted!"

"Shut up," Arya hissed in annoyance. Ever since the attack in the warehouse, Hot Pie seemed to be under the impression that they were now suddenly friends. He followed her everywhere. He was even worse than Gendry. At least Gendry didn't talk.

"It's getting dark," one of the thugs grunted. "Shouldn't we just spend the night here?"

"Makes sense," said another, but neither of them looked at the Mountain. Everyone was afraid of him.

He just growled, but that seemed to be enough for the two men, because they started rounding up people and getting out blankets (not for the shivering, cold kids that were amongst the people they were holding hostage, oh no. For themselves).

Arya found a spot in the shadow of the bus and sat down, Gendry and Hot Pie following behind her like some sort of perverse dogs. Zipping up her jacket, she turned away from them, bringing her knees to her chest to keep warm.

'Happy birthday to me.'

Though it was stupid, Arya couldn't help but compare this birthday to the one that she had the year before. It had been her sixteenth, a grand affair, and her Mum had made cake, red velvet, and her Dad had grilled them all steaks. It was her whole family, plus Theon of course. Robb and Jon had taken time off work and school to spend the entire day at Winterfell. It had been the perfect birthday. Robb, Jon and Theon had all pitched in and bought her a bow and arrows, so that they could teach her archery. Her Dad and Mum had gotten her what she had wanted for ages, fencing lessons, and even Sansa's gift didn't suck. The blue high tops, which she was now wearing, the best gift Sansa had ever given her.

Rickon fell a little short. He was nine at the time, and had given her a soccer ball, something she knew he wanted. It had been of no consequence. Arya was not disappointed, happy in fact, because it lead to a huge game of family soccer, one that lasted hours. Afterwards, exhausted, she and Bran had climbed up their favorite tree, heart tree, and looked out over the beautiful scenery of the North to watch the sun set. It had been the perfect day, and thinking about it now, how happy she had been, how happy they all had been, made Arya feel tears prickling at her eyes.

It was horrible here, and it had been a horrible birthday. Now that it was starting to get dark, they'd be choosing girls. They usually did when the sun started to set. Arya was lucky, she wasn't as pretty as some of the girls with them and her chopped hair made her look too boyish. So far no one seemed to even have thought about choosing her. Still, when it came choosing time, it was a good idea to keep a low profile. Thinking about the screams made her sick. A tear squeezed from her eye...

"Arya?" Gendry asked gently. "Are you okay?"

No she was obviously not okay, but she didn't want to talk to him about it, so she stood abruptly and stalked off, bunching her coat tight around her shoulders. She kept her head bent low as she wove through the people sitting on the ground, all glassy eyed, staring absently into space. She didn't want anyone to see that she had been crying.

Not looking where she was going, she bumped into someone.

"Sorry," she mumbled, making to go past them, but a hand grabbed her arm.

"You."

"What?" Arya asked, confused, and then she looked up straight into the face of Chiswyke, one of the Mountain's men.

"You."

Arya felt her blood turn to ice. Realization hit her skin like cold needles, prickling, and her heart dropped. No, no, no, no, no!

"No," she said, trying to wriggle free in her desperation.

"Sorry," the man said, leaning in. Arya wrenched her face away. "Wrong answer. You're coming with me."

"NO!" She wrenched in earnest, clawing at the man's arm as he attempted to drag her towards the woods. "LET GO! LET GO OF ME!"

If she had Needle, she might have been able to threaten him or at least defend herself, but they had taken that too. Once they were in the woods, there would be no escape. The girls who tried to run got shot.

"Let her go."

Arya wrenched up to see Gendry standing in the man's path looking thunderous. He had never looked so deadly, and suddenly she felt a rush of infinite gratefulness that he was still looking out for her. The fact that his arm was the size of a child's head was another comfort.

"Oooh, is this your boyfriend?" The man leered, chuckling.

"He is not my boyfriend!" Arya protested at once. The man made to pass him, but Gendry stepped sideways and blocked his way.

"Let go of her," Gendry ordered in a low voice. "And I won't hurt you."

The man blinked, and then threw his head back and roared with laughter. Arya watched as he howled, laughing so hard tears streamed from his eyes.

"Not very bright, you're boyfriend," the man said to Arya. "Step aside, boy, or I'll shoot you."

Gendry glared at him stubbornly, not moving an inch.

"Enough of this, kid," the man said, starting to sound annoyed. He gave a whistle, and the other thugs came to join him. "Step aside."

"Not until you let her go," Gendry snarled.

The man sighed, and then jerked his head.

One of the thugs stepped forward and made to punch Gendry, but he dodged the blow and delivered one of his own, straight to the man's stomach. He doubled over in pain, but then there was a movement of shadows, and before Arya could scream for Gendry to look out, a man stepped from behind him and grabbed his arm. Gendry made to whip around, but the Mountain was too fast for him. One swift blow broke Gendry's arm and he screamed in pain, a punch to the jaw sending him to his knees.

"I thought he told you to step aside," the Mountain said in a deep rumble, grabbed Gendry's broken arm and then forcing it behind him as he roared in gut-wrenching pain.

"Not... Until... He... Lets her go," Gendry gasped, panting. The man holding Arya shook his head.

"Let her go, Chiswyke," the Mountain ordered to Arya's utter disbelief.

"But-"

"Then I'll fuck her, and we can make lover boy here watch."

"NOOO!" Gendry shouted. "NO!"

"You can have her after," the Mountain offered when Chiswyke looked reluctant to let Arya go. He laughed.

"Sure boss," he said, dragging Arya, who struggled violently, to the Mountain. He towered over her like a giant.

"PLEASE!" Gendry shouted as the Mountain's hands clamped themselves onto her arm like steel. "Please!"

"Someone shut him up," the Mountain sighed, sounding bored. Another thug took a step forward-

"If you let her go, I'll tell you everything!" Gendry shouted, his eyes streaming in pain. There was a moment's pause as the Mountain waited. Arya realized she was holding her breath. Gendry lifted his head up and stared straight into the Mountain's eyes. "I'll tell you about the Brotherhood!"

cliffhanger…