Summary: Arya comes to a fearful conclusion.
Gendry
Once he had seen the Frey put his hands on Arya he wanted to make sure that the boy never could touch her again. Elmar was irritated him like no other person could, except maybe his father. Or Joffrey.
Hence the reason why Gendry was stood in the Great Hall in front of Arya's family. They all sat on the high table in front of him. Lord Rickard seemed unchanged in his decision to have the Frey rather than him as Arya's future husband. However Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn were happily surprised by his offer and Lady Lyanna was beaming down at him. Her silver eyes shone with happy tears.
"Allow me to make this clear to you Prince Gendry, my granddaughter is betrothed already." Lord Rickard said loudly. Gendry did not feel intimidated by his cold eyes as they bore into him, rather the opposite. He felt more determined.
"I understand that Lady Arya was supposed to have a choice." He watched as Lord Rickard's aged face hardened, his jaw locked. He probably wondered who had told Gendry that little piece of information.
"Within the allotted time yes, but no other suitors came forward." However Lord Rickard argued his tone absolute and firm. Gendry already knew that he was a little late but he had hoped that Lord Stark would relent. Apparently not. Lyanna turned to her father, her mouth popping open.
"Father please, Gendry truly loves Arya." She begged, gripping his old hand tightly. He shrugged her off.
"That is not my concern."
"You promised me that she would have a choice. Does your word mean nothing to you?" Lyanna snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously. Gendry felt a surge of hope as the old wolf focused his eyes back on him. For a moment there was something that melted in his gaze but it soon covered over again. He turned his head and nodded to Jon who stood in the corner of the room.
"Bring her here."
Gendry never turned to see his friend leave but as soon as the doors creaked open he heard two pairs of feet walking into the Great Hall. Arya came up next to him, her eyes confused. "Lady Arya, it seems you have a decision to make." Lord Rickard called, his voice echoing in the empty room. Gendry's stomach knotted painfully with tension.
"My Lord?" She asked, her tone reflecting her expression.
"You have a choice of suitors Arya." Lord Eddard spoke softly but Gendry was watching his daughter's expression alter from confusion to disbelief.
"Prince Gendry has asked for your hand sweetheart." Lyanna finished and Arya glanced up at him her face one of shock. He couldn't help but grin at her and pray to the Gods that she chose him.
"You can have as much time as you need Arya." Lord Rickard shouted regaining their attention. Gendry felt his insides plummet realising that the Frey would be around for longer.
As if summoned, Elmar stormed into the room his eyes blazing with fury.
"What is the meaning of this?! I am her betrothed." He yelled his cold voice ringing. He glared up at Gendry and then down at Arya his fist clenched as if he meant to strike her. "You are betrothed to me." Frey reminded her, his finger pointing. She didn't step back but tilted her chin up to study the boy in front of her.
She didnt reply and left, her hips swishing with movement. Gendry looked up at Jon as she passed and saw that his eyes were filled with relief.
Not knowing what else to do, Gendry bowed in respect to the Starks and followed her out to the Godswood.
In her haste to get outside and away from her family and the Frey boy, Arya hadn't donned a cloak. The rain continued to slam to the ground, causing the area to be dark though it was still day. She spun her silver eyes incandescent in the muted light.
"Why do you want to marry me Gendry?" Arya asked, the rain streaming down her cheeks and dripping off her chin. He smiled gently and stepped forward, keeping his eyes on hers. He came up so close to her that he could smell her wild rose scent. She tilted her face up and he found his attention switch to her mouth.
"Gods Arya, I love you." Her lips parted as she gasped. "You know that Jon told me stories since we were ten and every day I longed to meet you. Now I have, I can't imagine you not being in my life." He moved his eyes up to look into hers. "I can't bear the thought of you marrying anyone else." Particularly the Frey. He added mentally.
Gendry leant his forehead against hers. He gave her a moment; she needed time to absorb his words. She needed to discover he was telling the truth. She needed to come to trust him.
"But… why marry me when you could have any girl in the Seven Kingdoms?" Arya asked him incredulously. He laughed in earnest and felt her pull away. To stop her from escaping he wrapped his arms around her. She looked surprised at his boldness yet she didn't push him away.
Had she not listened to a word he had said?
"It is you Arya Stark that has captured my heart. No other woman has ever appealed to me as much as you have." He stared down at her and her silver gaze snapped shut as she frowned. Did she not see her magnificence? Could she not see her allure? Was she truly blind to her own beauty?
"Arya, please believe me. I would never lie to you sweet."
Her eyes opened slowly as she searched his face. The rain continued and slammed into his open skin and plastered his black hair to his head. It fell into his eyes as he looked at her. He was worried by her silence for her eyes betrayed nothing of her thoughts. Then her lips curled up; twitching to form the prettiest smile he had ever seen. Without warning she jumped up at him as she had done to Jon and he caught her in strong arms, holding her close. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and clung to him as though her life was dependant on it. Arya moved her head so that she could whisper in his ear. The feel of her warm breath made him shiver.
"I hope you know I'm not doing this simply to get away from the Frey." She released him and he lowered her to the leaf covered ground. He moved his hands to her exposed neck so he could cup her face.
"I never thought anything of the kind." His thumb traced the line of her jaw and she sighed softly.
"I'll go to my grandfather on the morrow if he's feeling better."
It was only later when Gendry was alone in his chambers that he realised that he had no idea how she felt about him.
Arya
Arya woke the next morning feeling cheerful, knowing that she owed it to Gendry. He had been so tender and honest with her that she had felt herself tremble. He loved her. His words still echoed in her head and made her smile like a stupid little girl. But Arya didn't care.
His eyes had been so filled with longing and desire that she had been shocked to her core. But it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling like when the Frey looked at her. No, rather she felt heat skating across her skin and tightness low in her belly. It was an unusual sensation, but one that she quite liked.
She wasn't entirely sure what it was that she felt for Gendry, but Arya knew that she liked him; a lot. He made her laugh. He was stupid and stubborn. Half of the time she was torn between hitting him and kissing him. Ultimately he made her happy.
Arya knew that she should probably have said something last night to him, but she had been too overwhelmed.
She dressed herself in pants and a shirt, which to her was far more comfortable than a dress as made her way to see her grandfather. Arya found it strange to walk without Nymeria by her side, but she knew the wolf was safe and more than likely with her brothers. She met Gendry at the end of the corridor, his bright blue eyes warm and so deep she could drown in them. He held out his hand to her and she took it, revelling the feel of his strong fingers wrap around hers.
"Good morning My Lady."
"Shut up." She said, punching him in the arm with her other hand. He laughed and she tried to suppress a grin.
"You're always so lovely to me." Gendry just tightened his grip on her so she couldn't pull free.
"You started it." Arya retorted. She knew she sounded like a child with the bantering but he deserved it.
"True enough." His smile then melted away and he frowned. "You haven't changed your mind have you?" She sighed.
"Of course I haven't."
"Good; because I don't know what I would have done if you had." Gendry chuckled nervously. She was torn between hitting and kissing him. She decided on the latter simply due to the fact that she had already smacked him this morning. Arya rose to her toes and pressed a light peck to his cheek. When she lowered herself down to the floor they began to head for the Great Hall.
Breakfast had been served at this point so she knew that her family would be there. Her stomach started churning with worry despite that the feeling was utterly pointless. Her family would accept her decision and would hopefully be pleased with it. She knew that her mother would be, though she had always thought that it would be Sansa who married a prince, not Arya.
"Are you alright?" Gendry asked as they approached the Great Hall. He seemed to sense her nerves.
"Mhm." Arya replied and he chuckled softly.
Suddenly a horrific scream filled the air, echoing across the grey stones, ringing in the courtyard. Simulataneously her and Gendry ran towards the sound, never expecting the sight that unfolded before them.
Lying on his back at the base of the abandoned tower was Bran. His eyes were closed and his chest wasn't moving. Summer yowled, a sound that blended agony and fury. A woman stood beside Bran's body with her hand over her mouth as a sob escaped. Arya sprinted over and collapsed by her brother's side.
"What happened?" She shrieked as people gathered around.
"He... he fell." Was the broken reply.
"No, no no no. Bran!" Arya took her younger brother's face in her palms and leant forward. A dreadful moment passed, then another. Her heart skipped until she felt a sudder of a breath on her cheek. She thanked the Gods. He was still alive. She looked up, tears falling freely, dripping from her chin. Around her no-one moved. "Someone get help! Fetch Maester Luwin now!" Arya yelled, cradling her brother in her arms. "Bran, please. Please wake up, oh Gods, please." Behind her she heard footsteps crunch as someone approached. "Bran, please. Little brother, please look at me, please!" Gendry's warm hands gently pried her away from her brother as the aged maester sunk to his knees. He pressed his stubby fingers into Bran's neck and waited a couple of seconds.
"Hodor! Mikken! Pick up the Lord and carry him to his chambers!" The old man demanded and they did as he said. "Gods be careful with his head and legs! Keep his back straight!" The maester turned to her his dark eyes sullen. "I will do all I can Lady Arya." She felt a sob part her lips and then she was wrapped in strong arms as her body shook violently.
"Shh, Arya. He's alive. He'll be alright. Shh." Gendry cooed, holding her close. "The maester will look after him. It'll be alright." Pressed against his chest as she was, Arya couldn't see the people around her, mumbling and crying. All she could see was the tower, the solid aged stones reaching the sky. The spire broke into the cloud, only demonstrating its height as it loomed over the courtyard. "He's alive Arya." Gendry murmured again and she couldn't help but think. Yes but how long for?
That day was the worst of Arya's life.
Her mother was weeping hysterically as her father held her in shaky arms. Arya was sat beside her brother, holding his cold hand in her own. Summer, Bran's direwolf was curled by his master's feet, his yellow eyes trained on the door. Gendry stood behind her listening to Maester Luwin intently and asking him questions.
"Will he live?"
"Yes I think so." The old man smiled and covered Bran again with a thick fur throw.
"Thank the Gods." Lady Catelyn cried and gave a watery smile while clutching Ned even tighter.
"Has he lost the use of his legs Maester?" Gendry questioned gently, keeping one hand on her shoulder. Arya was grateful for him staying with her.
"No My Prince. The worst of his injuries was his head. I fear he hit it very hard, but I think he will be alright." She sighed, feeling her shoulders slump with relief. "But he has broken his arm and leg Lady Stark. He will be bedridden for a long time." Catelyn nodded and came forward and took a seat beside her son's bed. "I will be back to check on him later." With that he left and Arya saw little Rickon enter the room, Shaggydog close at his heels. His brilliant blue eyes were wide with fear and confusion.
"Mother?" He squeeked, his eyes flickering from his sister to his parents. Neither of them paid any attention so Arya scooped up her brother and hugged him. "What happened to him Arya? Is he alright?" She pulled back and kissed him on the head.
"He had a nasty fall." Gendry answered for her.
Rickon's arms wound around Arya's neck as she carried him from the room. She didn't want him to see Bran like that. Not yet. Not so soon after the incident. As she walked down the corridor her mind started to race.
Bran had never fallen before. All the hundreds of times she had watched him, in all weathers he had never had an accident. Never. Bran was surefooted and agile, able to scramble up vertical walls and reach heights she could only dream of. Out of all of the Stark children her younger brother had a gift for climbing.
She lowered Rickon to the ground once they were outside in the air. She could feel eyes on her, watching and studying. Seeing her cry for the first time. No-one of them spoke as she handed her littlest brother to Jon. He would occupy the youngest Stark with he stared at her in shock Arya headed for the empty tower. No one ever went in there since the fire that happened before she was born. Some said it was haunted, others simply didn't like the look of the burnt stones and crumbling windows.
"Arya!" Gendry shouted after her as she ascended the uneven steps. "Arya stop!" She came to the circular room at the top and looked around hearing Gendry pant softly. She walked around the circular room, seeing that parts of the floor had been moved and recently. The dust and twisted vines had been uprooted and kicked away.
Hesitantly Arya walked over to the window, ignoring the bile she felt rising in her throat. She looked out onto the court and then carefully inspected the arched window itself. She pushed at the worn stones, noticing they didn't move an inch. They were sturdy even after all that time. Protruding from the exterior wall were thick wooden beams, and the grooves in the stone were deep and solid. They provided Bran an easy access to the high tower which he would have explored with grace as always.
"Arya? Sweet please say something." Gendry spun her around, gripping her arms. His oceanic eyes were concerned and frightened for her.
"Bran didn't fall."
"What do you mean?" He scowled, his gaze darting to the open window. Arya managed blink back the determined tears that threatened to fall.
"He was thrown."
I really wasn't sure about this chapter, if people could let me know if its any good I'd really appreciate it :)
Thanks again for reading.
