Five Times Gendry Reminds Arya of Home and One Time He Doesn't
The Fourth: Rickon
Alright, so this one is a bit shorter then all the others and I really apologize for that. I'm not being lazy; I just thought that this scene would be more powerful if it was shorter. I thought it was sweet and I hope everyone agrees. This scene takes place the night/morning right after the last chapter (I never meant for these to be a continuous series to start but I guess it just happened that way.) I've appreciated all of the wonderful feedback and support. I'm so glad this is getting all the attention it has! This is for everyone who enjoys it.
Note: These drabbles are set in a random time frame where Arya and Gendry are traveling around by themselves/in Harrenhal/with Hot Pie/etc. just because I don't want to be specific because parts might appear in some form later in different stories.
It was dark when Arya woke with a start, drenched in sweat and panting. Her eyes fluttered open as she breathed through her nose, trying to calm the fluttering of her heart, the echoes of screams still fading in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut. She was lying on her back on the bed; it must have been the early hours of the morning because even with her keen water dancer ears she could not hear anything happening down the stairs of the inn.
When a soft snore sounded in her ear she jumped a bit, but relaxed immediately remember who it was that lay atop the covers next to her on the small straw bed. She remembered earlier in the night where she had lost all control in the grief of missing her family while Gendry held her in his arms. She slapped a hand to her forehead and groaned in embarrassment. Rubbing her hand down her face she turned her head and looked at Gendry.
She was taken aback by what she saw. Gendry and Arya had laid next to each other many a night on the road, but tonight had been the first night they were able to sleep somewhere besides the cold ground in the dead of the night without even the moonlight to show them the way. When Arya had cried herself out she had collapsed exhausted. Gendry gently helped to tuck her under the covers.
When he had drawn away, Arya had reached out quick as a snake to wrap her small fingers around his wrist. He had half-heartedly tried to shake her off, but she was determined that he not sleep on the floor. This bed was a luxury, one that she didn't know if they would have again in the near future. After a half whispered argument Gendry sighed, she smirked, knowing she had won. She felt the bed dip as he had crawled over her to wedge himself as close to the wall and away from her as possible, laying on top of the sheets.
She had shook her head at his stubbornness but she was too tired to do anything more than mumble "stupid bull," and snuggle deeper under the thick woolen sheets. Now, awake in the early hours of the morning she could see him for the first time. His face wasn't more than a few inches away from hers and she turned on her side towards him in order to watch him closer. A moonbeam shone through the window and fell across his face.
He had not bathed yet, and his face was covered in dirt and sweat, though underneath their was still chiseled cheekbones that had caught her attention on more than one occasion. His long, thick eyelashes dusted the tops of his cheeks as he peacefully slept. He had abandoned his post crammed against the wall and had spread himself out, giving Arya hardly any room to move. She didn't mind though and had tucked her knees up to her chest as curled around her, one of his arms was laid over his side comfortably and the other was stretched out, Arya using the smooth muscles of his forearm as a head rest. She did not remember becoming like that in the night and wondered how long she'd been laying on his arm and if he still had any feeling in it.
As she watched him she felt something stir in her chest, it made her feel slightly giddy, like how she felt when she would spare with someone; a playful dance of her heart underneath her ribcage. She yearned to know what it meant, the rushing of blood in her ears and flood of blush against her cheeks. He breathed a quiet sigh, his lips parting slightly and his breath brushing against her cheek. With his mouth parted and his thick mop of black hair falling in his eyes, he looked very young.
Not at all like the strong blacksmith's apprentice that she knew who always stood tall and whose impressive muscles intimidated all who crossed him. Arya found herself imagining those arms around her, squeezing her in comfort as they did. She missed the comfort of someone's arms to hold her safe, though in the moment Gendry looked no older than a boy, so much more reachable and open in his slumber. He looked a child, wild as the wind.
She could almost picture him as a child then, his hair flopping in his eyes as he ran around a yard, chasing a dog that he may have had. She imagined him sitting in front of a fire and listening to his mother, he had told Arya of his mother once so Arya let her imagination run wild. She could see the woman with her high cheek bones and long golden hair that Gendry might have grabbed in his chubby baby fists like Rickon used to do to her mother.
It was strange, to think of Gendry as a child and Arya found herself wishing that she had known him when they were younger, wishing that he could meet her family, she was sure that they would like him. As she came back from her day dream she refocused her eyes on him. He had closed his mouth, and in that little movement, he had become the Gendry which she knew. Strong and sure Gendry, a man grown and far out of her reach. She suddenly felt very alone.
A tear slipped out of her eye and ran over the bridge of her nose. She blinked and sniffed. When she opened her eyes again she found blue ones staring back at her. They stared at each other for a few moments, not moving or breaking the gaze, nor breathing. Finally she reached out and moved a strand of hair from his forehead. His breath released in a shuddered breath and his eyes half flickered closed.
He breathed her name, still half asleep and pressed the side of his face into her hand. Her heart began to hammer in unsteady beats. She rubbed her thumb across his cheek, the thick stubble there scratching the sensitive pad of her finger. He opened his eyes again and one of his hands snaked around her waist and he pulled her towards him, burying his face in her collarbone. She could feel his breath on her chest, it's warm fingers stretching down into her shirt, making her shudder slightly for no real reason.
She found herself moving her hand from his cheek to the back of his head, threading her fingers through the thick, tangled locks of his hair. She pressed a kiss into his hair like she used to do to little Rickon when the two wild children would collapse in a haystack together after running around all day. She felt her heart swell with a strange emotion, as if it would burst out of her body and consume her. She thought at first that it was just the same protective love that she felt for her little brothers when she used to hold them close not so long ago, but when the warmth of the feeling settled in her gut she squirmed in the feeling of the new sensation.
Gendry pulled her closer to him into his sleep, and she laughed a bit, and though she should find it hard to breathe she didn't. Instead if she closed her eyes and buried her nose in her head she could imagine that she was back home, sleeping in the hayloft of Winterfell.