Arya
She would happily admit that their current predicament was entirely her fault, it had been she who'd forced Gendry to join Rickon's nameday hunt, and it had of course been on her demand that they break up into groups, and yet again it was her fault that they'd walked in the wrong direction… she had been eager to get him alone and force him to wrestle with her, the notion had been with her since first he mentioned that they weren't allowed to anymore. The fact that she had been told she couldn't mixed with the strange new desire to get close to Gendry made for a potent motive. It stood to reason that their current predicament, tied back to back in a bandit's camp, far from help with no weapons, was entirely her fault too.
"This is all your fault," Gendry said as if to confirm what she'd already been pondering.
"I thought you could only be nice to me?" she spat back, wiggling her pant leg up enough to expose the small line of chord she always kept tucked in her boot. The bandits, thankfully not Bolton's but Frey's, were engrossed in an argument about what to do with the prisoners. Gendry's base born accent and her plain tunic made for convincing townsfolk, they didn't know what they had so weren't showing it much care.
"what are you doing?" Gendry spat.
"tell me if they're coming" she whispered, he had the better view of the hunched Freys.
She managed to lift her legs and bend enough that the chord was in her fingers grasp, it was already prepared with a loop at either end, so she threaded it over the rope binding her hands and in-between her wrists, then with great dexterity hooked her feet into the loops. She peddled her legs as far and as fast as she could in their bound state, she'd built up some slack from squirming and their pitiful rope tying. The motion created friction against the rope, which was not of excellent quality; her leather chord cut through her hand bindings with every foot push.
"They're looking," Gendry said through clench teeth.
"Stop that bitch from wriggling, if she wants to wriggle she can do it under the boys." A black-toothed, root of a man shouted, she moved her feet violently down, breaking the hand bindings, and she leapt up.
"Grab 'er" the black tooth shouted, and Arya grinned, Gendry was rolling about violently attempting to free himself, to save her.
A man lunged at her, and she side hopped him quickly, somehow managing to disarm him of his dagger at the same time "silly billy" she goaded, dancing away from him and shaking her leg bindings off as he lunged.
"Stop fucking about, grab the bitch and hold her down" two more men moved forward, the individual who had claimed needle was one of her new combatants. This made her grin widen, she flipped and suddenly was in front of the man who'd taken her precious blade.
"mine," she said childishly as she pulled it from his belt, slicing his belly as she went "oops" she heard Gendry roar her name, she didn't need to look behind her and she certainly didn't need the bull-headed boy's warning. She knew he was there, the first man again probably another dagger, without looking she swung needle around her head slicing through the bandit's throat. She felt the warm blood hit the back of her head, Gendry had gone silent, the Lord with his black teeth had three more men at his command. Of the three he'd already sent into the fight, one was most definitely dead what with his head partially severed, one was bleeding heavily from a gash in his gut, and the other looked to have shit himself.
"Get her!" Black tooth screamed furiously, his men did not move "I'll do it myself then you sorry bastards." He drew a long and heavy sword; oh, he'd been a Lord once. Peasants didn't get swords like that and if they did they certainly didn't keep them.
"What's your name Bandit?" she asked as she shuffled her small feet back preparing to counter his far slower movements.
"I'm no bandit, you horrid little tavern whore, I'm Lothar Frey, rightful warden of the north and keeper of the twins." He bellowed as he raised his blade.
Arya made her move, swift as the wind she had dived beneath his raised arm, dragging her blade across his ribs. He stumbled forward and clutched at his side "What are you?" he asked, she didn't answer. "The punishment for treason is death Frey, my father taught me that a true ruler does their own dirty work." She lunged forward, needle slipped through his neck effortlessly, like he was a man made of butter. "I am the wolf girl, and you killed my family." As she knew it, he'd been instrumental in the Red Wedding, she'd been looking for him but had given him up for dead, what luck. She looked to the men left standing "You think you'll do better?" there was a snarling from her back, Nymeria was finally here, she'd been calling to her for hours since they'd first been caught. Her 'captors' shook their heads furiously.
"Leave, tell your friends what you saw. The Starks are warding the North." Nymeria added a sharp-toothed growl for effect, other wolves seemed to be creeping from the dark, those of the bandits who could run did. The fat man who's belly she'd cut crawled a few feet before a small wolf who could no longer smell the blood lunged for him.
"This is not going to be pretty." She said as she cut Gendry loose of his bindings. "Move, or they'll think you're food too." She grabbed his hand and the two bags the bandits had relieved them of and ran from the clearing and wolf feast that was currently occurring.
"where are we going?" he asked after minutes of blind running, she had worried he wouldn't talk. He'd seen the worst of her, he'd seen the glee she took from death, she knew it wasn't pretty.
"Running water." She answered, pointing ahead to a stream. "Start a fire." She commanded directing him to a small clearing as she walked to the water's edge her pack in hand. She was glad that Cora sent her to hunt with a spare tunic, her maid had suggested that if they stopped to luncheon, she wouldn't want to be bloodied from the chase. She pulled the dirty tunic from her head, leaving her leather britches on, they wiped clean. Arya didn't bother looking to see if Gendry could see her, this wasn't about him, this was about getting that man's blood out of her hair. This was an attempt to scourge some of the death she'd accumulated. It was odd that an assassin would be so averse to having human blood on her, but Arya was. She knelt down by the stream, carefully she placed her hands onto rocks at the edge and leant forward, dunking her hair directly into the ice-cold water. It ached "Arya what are you doing?" She heard him bellow as he ran to her, she could smell smoke the fire must be burning. Odd, it felt like only minutes had passed, but now she thought it had been longer. She looked at him forgetting her bared chest "I need to get the blood out of my hair." She muttered, was she crying? She hadn't thought she was.
"here" he reached into his own pack and pulled a strip of linen "cover yourself." He could barely look at her, and she realised her breasts were making him nervous. She pulled the cloth across her wet chest, it made little difference as the fabric now clung almost transparent. "Gods" he groaned "Lie back" he commanded softly, Arya's brow furrowed and she worried for a second that this was all a dream "Lie back with your head at the bank and I'll wash the blood out… I used to wash my mother's hair. I'll help." He whispered he was looking at her with worry. Did she really look so sorry, she felt her face, and it was hot despite the ice water, tears still leaked from her eyes? She did as he bade, feeling decidedly unsure of herself. Death had been her gift to give, she had excelled in death and now killing for the first time since becoming Arya Stark again she found a part of her that hated it, the part of her that was Arya wept. He knelt by her head, deliberately avoiding looking any lower than her face. Gendry drew a small stone cup from his pack and dragged it into the water before pouring it onto Arya's hair and pulling his fingers through it. She lost count of how many times he repeated this action, she lay there letting him cleanse her.
"You're done," he said clearing his throat nervously. "Do you have a fresh tunic?" Arya nodded pointing to her pack, he dragged it to him and opened it handing her the rough spun clean fabric. Again, ignoring modesty, because why bother, she pulled the damp linen from her chest before dragging the dry tunic onto her frozen flesh. Arya was cold, colder than she'd been in years. She supposed she should move to the fire but stopped her chain of thought when she felt an arm slide under her legs and another cradle her back "You're shivering" he said by way of explanation as he carried her gently over to the now roaring flames. The fire burned, but she still chattered her teeth, the cold seemed to have seeped into her bones, and she cringed at the ache.
"I'm cold Gendry" she whined from her spot curled on the floor close to the flames, he lay at least eight feet away from her on the other side. "Come lie beside me." She chittered, Arya wasn't sure which part of her many complicated facets was at play this time, but she knew she wanted him near and needed his body heat badly
"It's not proper," he said softly, sympathetically, longingly?
"I just killed people, you saw my bare body by the river and washed my hair are we not a bit past proper on this adventure Gendry?" she asked in between teeth chatters.
"Your Grace…" he started, but she just groaned
"Here we go again." She pushed her weight shakily onto her feet and shuffled around the fire "I will come to you because I need to feel warm" she plopped down beside his prone frame. He was covering his eyes with the back of his hand, he shifted it slightly to peek out at her.
"Arya we really shouldn't," he said, but most of the fight was gone.
"We're not doing anything wrong, I'm cold, and I'm wet, and you're helping me to not die of cold wetness." She lay beside him and started her shuffle towards him.
"Arya, that's far enough." he chided, his tone warning.
"stop being such a baby Gendry, roll over so I can curl into you." Arya maintained her entire life that this request was not salacious, and as much as she thought she knew about men and bed play… she had no idea what this request really meant for Gendry.
"No!" he spurted loudly. Arya rolled onto her side to look at him
"Old Gendry would have done it!" she stated, her tone childish, but she found it was a side of her that he brought out.
"Old Gendry would have to do it because old Arya would lie beside him and tremble all night long making it impossible to sleep, it was the only way to make you stop… but we're not Old Gendry and Arya… I'm a man…" he started
"Not this again." She whined.
"And you are a woman and Arya it wouldn't be right." He looked so sombre.
"Fine" she resigned but did not lie back down, she stayed watching him "thank you." She said it softly
"For what."
"For stopping my trembles." She moved to place a soft kiss of gratitude on his cheek and perhaps steal a little warmth, but he turned suddenly, and she landed on his lips. When she tried to pull away shocked by the intimate contact, she found that she couldn't as his head tracked her every move keeping them linked as she drew back. His arm found her waist, pulling her roughly towards his hip forcing her head forward and his own in-turn back. His kisses were hungry, his free hand found her neck, cold from her wet hair and pushed forcing her mouth closer to his own. When she'd finally got the speed of things, and her stomach had stopped flipping she kissed back, revelling in the feel of his body pushed against her own as she partially lay on top of him. As suddenly as he'd started he stopped, he gently tried to push her away, but her hip kept his arm pinned beneath her and her hands clutched his shirt.
"Oi" she accused "You don't get to ruin my first proper kiss" she snapped.
"That was your first kiss?" he asked, his tone guilt ridden.
"No you idiot, I've been kissed loads, but that was the first one I didn't feel underwhelmed by. I got butterflies." She harrumphed, she had once been told her candour was disarming, she sincerely hoped this was true. His eyes were wide with shock "It was probably a fluke." She concluded.
"What?" ah yes bringing his effect on her into question seemed to have piqued his interest.
"It was probably because you surprised me." She made to pull away, but it was him stopping her this time.
"You kissed me!" he accused turning onto his shoulder to better confront her but inadvertently drawing himself almost nose to nose with her.
"I'll think you'll find m'lord that I was merely dropping a sweet and chaste kiss of thanks onto your cheek when you turned suddenly catching my lips, the shock tricking me into thinking it was a 'proper kiss.'"
"Of course it was a proper kiss" she watched as he chastised himself inwardly for engaging in her silly charade.
"fluke." She said stubbornly their noses bumped.
"wrong" he growled back.
"Prove it." She whispered letting her nose rest on his, and he looked like he was going to, he licked his bottom lip and it felt for a second like his mouth was moving closer but then;
"Princess Arya? Lord Baratheon?" their names being called from not so far away, the search party in full swing they shot apart from each other and both seemed to blush appropriately.
"Are you going to be all quiet and strange when we get back to Winterfell?" She asked candidly.
He nodded.
"Great." She huffed as she heaved her small pack and called "We're over here!"
