[A/N]: The three times Gendry gets jealous and the one time he doesn't, because who doesn't love a jealous Gendry?
One - Hot Pie
They had been travelling without food for days and fatigue was starting to settle in. Hot Pie's usual complaints were dulled down to muted groans and even Arya's fiery attitude was somewhat subdued. She would still mutter the occasional 'stupid' or 'idiot' to keep appearances but she wasn't fooling anyone. Especially not him. He looked up at the sky, the sun ever so slowly making way for nightfall. "We should make camp somewhere," he sighed. "It's not safe to walk in the dark and we could all do with a bit of rest."
"And food," Hot Pie added. "Real food, not bugs," his eyes directed at Arya. The young girl just glared back at him, her fire suddenly a lit once again.
"Well how about you find us something better to eat then!" she growled.
"Fine! Maybe I will!" he argued.
"Shut-up the both of you!" he grumbled. "Hot Pie if we have to eat bugs to survive then that's what we have to do, so stop your whining!"
They found a small clearing that was nestled under thick foliage and only a few hundred meters from a flowing stream. They had walked passed it on their way to their camping spot and thought it would be safer to remain close, but still maintain enough distance so as not to bump into any unwanted company. "Hot Pie, stay here and try to collect as many dry sticks as you can. If we're lucky enough to find any kind of meat we'll need to cook it." His chubby friend nodded and set off to start collecting the materials needed.
"What about me?" Arya's small voice piped up.
"You're coming with me. You know I'm not much of a hunter." A smile crept on her face. Something he hadn't seen in a long while.
As predicted his only contribution to their dinner that night was the fact that he carried everything. Gendry the mule he thought bitterly to himself. No matter how many times Arya tried to show him the right way of catching a fish, or sneaking up on prey, his heavy footsteps would lumber about the place alerting everything and anything around them of his presence. She on the other hand moved on light feat. Although she liked to think of herself as anything but a lady, in moments like this he could see that side of her come through. There was a graceful elegance to her movements, like she was dancing with the elements around her.
"This is amazing Arya!" Hot Pie beamed, digging into one of the large fish she procured for them. They had been extremely lucky that the stream held any semblance of life at all, most were filled with nothing but sand and rock, the only fish too small to bother with catching. But it seemed the Gods, new or old were looking down on them that day and they were finally able to sate their hunger.
"Thanks," she beamed triumphantly. "Gendry helped too," her grey eyes glancing over to his blue. He smiled at that and he noticed his heart beat that little bit faster when she smiled back.
The rise of the sun welcomed them to another day. They began packing what little supplies they had left, now adding some much needed food to their packs. It would mean another few days of survival, that is of course if they didn't run into any trouble. He watched as Hot Pie waddled towards Arya, a huge grin on his face. He knelt down next to her and leaned into her. She didn't seem to mind, even when he noticed his lips brush past the skin on her ears. He balled his hands into fists and stalked towards the two. What he planned to do when he got there he didn't know, but all he could think of was how dare he touch her. He stilled his steps when he saw Arya jump in excitement and wrap her arms around the other member of their little trio. "Thank you, thank you," she cried.
He felt something stab at his gut at that. What did he say to make her react that way? As if sensing his presence she turned and looked at him with child-like wonder. "Look Gendry," she said pushing forward her open hands. Looking down he saw her small palm full of those berries he knew she liked. "Hot Pie found some when he was gathering wood for the fire." He watched as she stuffed a couple into her mouth, a soft moan escaping her lips.
"I got you some too," Hot Pie offered. He shook his head and marched back to finish his packing. He shouldn't have acted so rudely, but for some strange reason he suddenly had an urge to punch the other boy in the face.
"I'll have his if he doesn't want them," Arya cut in completely oblivious to his rage. In typical Hot Pie fashion he didn't think anything of Gendry's change in mood either.
"Let's go!" he barked, his mood darkening as he watched the other members of his group walk side by side eating their berries. It was then that he realised he wished it was him in Hot Pie's place.
Two – Edric Dayne
The Brotherhood without banners in the flesh, he thought. They didn't look like much of an opposing force, just battered men in worn armour. They were men like him. Fighting the wars of their lords, but now they had no lord left to fight for, so they fought for the small folk. He silently thanked the Gods that is wasn't Lannister men who found them and that the one called Harwin recognised Arya.
When they arrived back at the brotherhood base they were brought forward to meet Beric Dondarrion. The man was a sight to behold. He looked as if he had lived through a hundred and one battles and he could see the confused expression on Arya's face when she looked the man over. "He looks different," she whispered to him. "Sansa thought he was handsome once," she continued. "But he looks anything but now," she finished.
He shrugged his shoulders, not really sure of how else to respond. It was then that he saw a young boy step out from behind Beric. He had mousy blonde hair and deep blue eyes that looked almost purple. The sheepish look the boy gave Arya didn't go un-noticed by him and when he was introduced as Edric Dayne, Lord of Starfall, he felt his heart sink a little. He expected Arya to scoff at him, but instead she smiled at the little lord, the two hitting off instantly. This is how it starts, he thought bitterly.
He didn't like the way the little lords eyes followed Arya. His infatuation with her was obvious and he didn't even have the decency to at least try to be discreet about it. He sought her company far too often, always coming up with an excuse to talk to her. Tonight was no exception. For the first time since he had met her Arya looked like the proper little lady she was supposed to be. Her hair was still cropped short, but had grown longer since when they first left Kings Landing. She had grown taller too and her features had matured slightly. The chubbiness in her cheeks beginning to melt away to reveal sharp angles that promised the beauty that was to come. The dress she wore was one size too big for her, but still highlighted the feminine qualities she had kept hidden under her baggy tunics and breeches. He downed a large gulp of the mead before him, doing his best to avoid gazing at her budding breasts and the swell of her hips. Or how pretty she looked when the dirt was scrubbed clean from her face, revealing perfect milky skin.
"Slow down there boy," Harwin said slapping him on the back. "You have all night to drink so enjoy it."
He woke up with a throbbing headache. It felt like someone had struck him with an axe and even the softest of sounds sounded like a thousand drums beating in his head. The sun seemed brighter than usual and he found himself squinting for most of the morning.
"What's wrong with you?" a familiar voice called out from behind him.
"Nothing," he grunted. He turned to face the slip of a girl. Her steely eyes looked at him curiously.
"Well it doesn't look like nothing," she probed. "And why are you squinting? It makes you look stupid."
"Go away milady!" he said through gritted teeth. He didn't have the patience to deal with her today.
"Don't. Call. Me. Milday!" she grumbled back.
"As milady commands," he bowed mockingly knowing it would anger her further. She pushed at him then punched him hard in the chest before storming off.
"Stupid bull!" she screamed.
He hadn't seen her for the rest of the day and went looking for her. He felt guilty about the way he treated her and as a way to make amends had sharpened the blade of a small dagger he found. He searched throughout the camp for her, asking the men that passed him by if they had seen her. All of them shook their head and he found his headache returning. Where are you Arya?
He continued his search to the outskirts of the camp, but there was still no sign of her. Finally relenting he made his way back to the forge. He would just have to give it to her another time. It was then he heard the familiar smack of wood against wood and the muffled cries of Arya. His feet moved faster than he thought possible to where the sound was echoing from. Dressed in her usual tunic and breeches he watched as she danced around a blonde haired boy. "Too slow!" she teased as he tried to meet her parries. "Left, right, left, left again," she called out confusing the boy further. He couldn't help but grin, especially when she ducked to avoid one of the swings directed at her and stuck her foot out, effectively knocking the boy on the ground.
He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. "It seems my lady that your skill is beyond mine," the boy conceded with a chuckle. It was then he realised the boy was Edric Dayne. Little fucker.
"You'll get better," she offered jutting her hand out to help him up. Edric took it without hesitation and Gendry watched as the Lord of Starfall held onto Arya's small hand longer than necessary. He then took a step closer to her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Arya looked down shyly, avoiding his intense stare, her cheeks a pretty pink colour.
Unable to watch on, Gendry turned and left as silently as he could. He needed a drink and needed to talk to Harwin about what it took to join the Brotherhood.
Three – Jon Snow
He was lost in thought, the steady thrum of his hammer connecting with the raw steel before him, luring him into a trance. The heat of the flames licked at his skin, protecting him from the cool northern winds. The door swung open and he was greeted by the short breaths of his apprentice, Wayland. "She's back!" he gasped.
"Whose back?"
"Arya Stark!" he said excitedly.
Gendry dropped his hammer, narrowly avoiding his foot. "Are you sure?" he questioned. There had been a number of imposters claiming to be the youngest Stark daughter, but all of them found false. People thought if they simply brought a girl to them with dark hair and grey eyes that they would be fooled, but she was much more than that.
"Well Lady Sansa and the Lord Commander seem to think so," he replied. Gendry hurriedly followed Wayland, slipping on a tunic and a large fur coat to keep the cold from settling in his bones. A large crowd had gathered to witness the return of the supposed long lost Stark girl. He gently pushed his way through and was greeted with a low growl and a pair of golden eyes staring deep into his blue.
"Nymeria, come!" a woman's commanding voice called out. The wolf or rather direwolf, backed away slowly, before turning completely and bounding towards its owner. Gendry's eyes travelled to where the beast sat protectively next to its master. His breath caught as a pair of sterling silver eyes looked right at him, a smirk playing on her lips. He knew he was staring, his eyes taking her in. Her long lean legs, clad in tight riding leathers. Her taut, flat stomach and pert breasts, barely contained in the fitted jerkin she was wearing. He swallowed hard, but was brought back to reality when those beautiful grey eyes drifted to her bastard brother Jon Snow. There was a light in them that shone when she looked at him. A light he desperately wished he could have been the cause of.
It had been three moons since her return and he still hadn't had a moment alone with her. Each time she passed him, he felt his heart practically leap from his chest. He had never thought Arya to be an ugly child. He knew she held a unique kind of beauty, one that would flower into something more with age. But he never expected this. For her to be the cause of so many men losing their breaths, just at the sight of her. As pretty as a winter rose, her beauty surpassed that of her sister Sansa.
He stood by silently as lords sworn to house Stark came by to seal their allegiance with the prospect of a union with Arya. Each were kindly turned down, Arya in no shape or form ready for such a commitment. He couldn't stop the smile on his face forming with each refusal. Especially when Lord Edric Dayne of Starfall thought himself worthy enough to make the same offer. Just like the others his offer was politely declined.
Since his arrival in Winterfell, he had found solace in visiting the Godswood. He remembered Arya telling him stories of how peaceful it was during their travels, and always felt a little closer to her by praying there. He heard voices float through the woods. Following them, he hid behind a rather large bush to see Arya and her brother Jon sitting before the heart tree. She skimmed her fingers through the warm waters of the hot spring and lightly flicked them at Jon.
"Don't think I won't throw you over my shoulder like I did when you were little," he scolded playfully.
"I'd like to see you try Lord Commander," she teased.
He only laughed at her, shaking his head. "I knew you were still in there somewhere," he smiled. "I missed you little sister," he sighed, taking her hand in his. Gendry felt like he was intruding on something private, but couldn't rip himself away from the scene unfolding in front of him.
"And I you," she replied. "No matter how hard I tried to forget I could never forget you," she confessed. "But I'm not the little girl you remember anymore Jon. I've…I've done things that I'm not proud of."
"Shhh," Jon cooed, wrapping Arya's small form in a tight embrace. "We've all done things we aren't proud of. All that matters is that you came back. You're a Stark of Winterfell and this is your home," he finished, planting a small kiss to the top of her head.
"So are you," she said quietly.
"No I'm a Snow and I belong on the Wall with my brothers," his voice sad. "But you'll always be my little sister and I'll love you no matter what."
"I love you too."
Gendry felt a lump form in his throat and left brother and sister alone to their privacy. Arya was the closest thing he had to a family, but it seemed she only had space for one bastard in her heart, and it wasn't him.
The one time he didn't
He beat furiously at the blunt weapon before him. The image of her in that dress haunting him. Teasing him with what could never be. The light green silk, clinging to her like a second skin, showing every curve and plane of her perfectly sculpted body. The Dragon Queen had come to visit, her nephew Aegon by her side. A match made of ice and fire, he heard people say. Arya Stark of Winterfell was to wed the Dragon Prince Aegon Targaryen. North and South would unite once again and heal the wounds of the past generation.
This is what he wanted to avoid. He knew he would lose her eventually but he didn't think it would hurt this much.
He was so lost in his own self-pity that he didn't notice the small figure slip through the partly opened window. "Did that poor sword do something to annoy you?" her voice teased.
He dropped his hammer immediately, the heavy object landing on his foot. "Seven hells Arya!" he hissed in pain as he hopped around like an idiot. In his disorientated state he managed to trip over the water bucket next to the anvil, and crash face first into the hard stony ground. "Aargh!" he grumbled as he felt his hands and knees sting in pain.
"Oh Gods Gendry!" she shrieked, concern lacing her voice. "I'm so sorry I didn't think…well I didn't think you'd do that," she lightly chuckled. She knelt down beside him, taking his scraped hands into hers. "You're bleeding." Her grey eyes looked over him worriedly.
"It's fine," he tried to shrug. "You just took me by surprise is all." He slowly rose to his feet, his pain momentarily distracted by the beauty before him. Using a damp rag he wiped away as much of the blood and soot off his hands as he could. "Are you ok?" he asked wondering why she was in his forge.
She smiled at him. A real smile. The kind that made her eyes sparkle and made his heart beat faster in his chest. "You're the one who has hurt himself and you're asking me if I'm ok," she cocked an eyebrow.
"It's late Arya, shouldn't you be inside the castle with…with the Prince," he swallowed hard.
She looked at him with a sad expression. The beautiful sparkle now gone. "Do you want me to go back to the castle with him?" she asked quietly. Her voice was so soft, only a whisper like she was afraid of the response.
He should have said yes. If he had any honour at all he would have. But he was a bastard, and everyone knew that bastards were selfish creatures. "No," he croaked, his gaze fixed on her. "I don't ever want you to go back to him," he said boldly.
They both took a tentative step towards each other. His blue eyes boring into her grey as they inched their way closer to the other. He hesitantly offered her one of his hands, praying she would take it, but fearful at the same time of what it would mean if she did. Her small hand wound into his and he felt a sense of comfort wash over him. She moved her body closer to his and he could smell the sweet aroma of rosewater fill his senses. "I don't want him," she said faintly breaking the silence. "I've never thought of anyone like that…except…except for you," she blushed.
He closed the remaining distance between them and stroked her cheek with his free hand. "You're all I've ever wanted," he breathed. His lips hovered above hers, his eyes seeking hers for permission. When she nudged her nose against his, he leaned into her, their lips softly caressing. He felt her other hand creep up and weave its way into his thick black hair. The kiss became more urgent, his tongue slipping into her mouth. They battled for dominance and he relented in the end, letting Arya have this win. They finally pulled apart, taking a moment to breathe.
"Why didn't we do that sooner?" she giggled.
"I…I didn't think you wanted me," he sighed, pressing his forehead to hers.
"There was only ever you, you stupid bull."
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