A cat among fiends
Gendry's legs push through thigh high snow, towards the small gazebo outside the hotel. The room had grown too stuffy and he'd desperately needed a smoke so without excusing himself, he grabbed his coat and gloves and left.
He can already feel his nose and the edges of his ears grow numb as one gloved hand digs into the pocket of his monster jacket. He finds his crushed up cigarette pack at the bottom. He taps at the side until a cotton tip pokes out of the torn corner. He grips it firmly between his lips and pulls it out. A violent shiver ripples through him as he stuffs the pack back in his pocket.
"Fuck," His breath puffs out thickly. He'll need to remove a glove to light the damn thing.
"It's colder than fuck!" Sandor grunts behind him.
Gendry turns. The large man climbed up the steps and tapped the snow off his boots against one of the pillars.
"I can't even think properly," Gendry pulls a glove off.
Sandor crosses to a stone bench to sit. "They sent me to fetch you," he sighed out sardonically. "Like a good little dog."
A flame sparks with a flick of Gendry's thumb. it takes a few tries for his cigarette to come to life.
Cruel white surrounded them and pregnant clouds hung low in the sky, threatening to engulf them with more snow. Staring out at it all, with his lungs full of smoke and his body numbing quickly, he fears in his heart, that in the years to come, wherever he may be; whatever he may be doing, as long as there'd be snow, he would be reminded of this winter. White and cruel and constantly taking, never giving back.
"So..." Gendry broke the silence,"what made you change your mind?"
Sandor grumbles almost pleasantly. He's been expecting this question.
"Well," Sandor mutters after a long, thoughful pause. "Your big friendly giant."
His answer surprises Gendry. "Brienne?"
Sandor makes a lazy, dismissive face and stands. "Your ears are turning blue." he points out and turns for the hotel. Gendry takes a few more useless drags of the cursed cigarette then tosses it to the snow, disappointed with its inability to warm him.
He follows Sandor inside.
"Who exactly gave you this?" Dany waved his invitation in the air as soon as they stepped into the room.
Jorah was reviewing equipment with Brienne. Two men Gendry had only seen once before were with them. He seemed to be simultaneously teaching them about the gadgets and various laptops while speaking on his phone with someone he repeatedly called Marg.
"I told you before..." Gendry began, but Dany cut him off.
"I know, but whomever they are, they did an incredible amount of research on your alias. "
"What do you mean?" Gendry couldn't see why that mattered.
"His name is Dylan James. His father is a Duke," Dany handed him a folder. Gendry opened it wide-eyed. What the fuck!? "I thought the same," Dany continues, clearly having read his expression. "But as much as my team and I tried, we could not find much on him, and I only got my hands on a few pictures, the last one taken back in 2009. Here."
Gendry takes the blurry printed copy. It's a picture of a guy leaving a night club with two girls.
Only part of his face is visible, and if he squints his eyes Gendry can almost see himself.
"Your typical millionaire party boy. He likes to keep a low profile. Because of his father, he receives courtesy invites to all type of high-end events, but is always a no-show to every one."
Gendry hands the photo back.
"The guy that gave you this is a genius. He gave you the identity of someone you not only slightly resemble, but who will definitely not show up."
"Why are you telling me this?" he demands, slightly irritated. He scratches at his head to distract himself from all this new information.
He does not need any more bullshit to worry about, like the added worry of this guy actually showing up at the party.
"I'm telling you this incase anyone bothers to ask about your father, or your family," she shoves the folder in his hands. "You don't want to..."
"I doubt the real Dylan James would be any more acquainted with his family than Gendry is." Sandor snaps at Dany, snatching the folder from Gendry's hands and returning it to her. "Or that he will bother chitchatting anyone. If he were showing up it would be just to get drunk and find himself a few pieces of ass to take home for the night."
Dany glares at Sandor as the massive man moves across the room to sit.
"He's right, Dany," Jorah calls softly across the room.
"I'd rather not worry about it." Gendry adds bluntly.
Dany stuffs the picture in the folder and nods, more to herself than to the any of them. She picks up a garment bag that's hanging from a hook on the wall and hands it to Gendry.
"This should fit you. Your shoes and mask are in that box."
Gendry takes the bag, feeling panic creep into him.
This is really happening.
"Relax," Dany tells him in a stern, but soothing voice.
Gendry only nods.
"Now I need you all to step over here. I have the floor plans. Gendry, I hope you can memorize all of this."
Shit.
A small part inside of him, though, can't help but feel excited to be part of a team again.
xxxxxxxxxx
With a swipe of her hand across the glass, two grey eyes come into view. They're empty. She takes a towel and sweeps it over the entire mirror.
A skinny girl blinks when Cat does. Short hair drips shower water down her forehead. A dark bruise peeks through. Anguy has one too. Across his mouth. She shakes her head like a dog until her hair is sticking up in different directions. It makes her smile.
A soft knock comes from the bedroom door.
She fixes the sagging edges of her bathrobe, presses a towel to her face to dry the streaks of water, and goes to the door.
It's Jaqen.
"May I come inside a moment?" he asks in his lush accent.
Cat nods and steps aside. He has a black box in each hand, one with a white ribbon around it.
"These are for you."
Cat uncrosses her arms and takes them. Jaqen tugs at the ribbon and the white string falls slowly, curling on the floor. He unclasps that box first.
Two dazzling bracelets, hefty with rows of blinding diamonds sit in a bed of indigo velvet.
It took her only a moment to notice the width was precise against her tattoos.
"I can't."
Jaqen smiles, clearly misunderstanding her refusal for awed inferiority. "Please. They are a gift."
"I mean, I won't."
His expression falls. "You will," He states firmly... almost dangerously. Cat feels her jaw grow stiff but she nods.
"This is your mask." he shoves the second box in her free hand, all seductive flirtation gone from his stance and proximity. "Be downstairs in two hours."
Cat sets both boxes aside and when she turns, Jaqen is gone.
She stands there, feeling unsettled and lazy; stiff and tense... wishing she could crawl inside a hole to sleep.
Heavy exhaustion sets her feet to the floor and it is only when another knock sounds, that she can move them again.
This time it's Anguy.
He too came with a box. Although the size did not compare to Jaqen's.
"I come bearing gifts, m'lady!" he flaunts an exaggerated bow, dipping too low, and shoots her a toothy grin.
Cat rolls her eyes and takes the small, offered box from his extended hand.
The lid creaks when she opens it. Inside, there are two small diamond earrings.
"I see Jaqen's beat me to it."
She turns to Anguy. He is holding up one of the bracelets, inspecting it as only a pawn shop worker would be expected to. With a inward chuckle, he sets it back in its box and steps to her.
"You won't wear your hair this way, will you?" he combs a few fingers through the wet strands almost sweetly, then gasps with excitement as a sudden idea brightens his face. "Can I do your hair and make up!"
"Ugh! No!" she shakes her head as she pushes him towards the door.
"Tcha... You jerk," he accuses as she shoves him out into the corridor.
"Bye Anguy," she slams the door and turns to the empty room.
The tiny box was still in her hand. She smiles down at it. Unlike Jaqen's bracelets, Anguy's earrings felt honest and genuine. They were small, but pretty. She could never imagine herself wearing something like them on a daily basis, but for him, just for tonight, she would.
She puts them on and walks to the mirror, letting the bathrobe fall to the bathroom floor.
Her short dark hair... bony, sharp edges... thick tattoos and the various bruises that decorated her naked body are an oddly fitting contrast to the two small rocks shimmering from each of her ear. Another smile blooms, and she can see it reach her eyes.
Back in the room, she unzips the garment bag and pulls out the dress Jaqen gave her when the arrived at the hotel. It's the same shade of yellow as lemon cake, and for some reason that knots her chest.
She ignores the feeling, and slips into it.
Who cares what I looks like tonight.
I don't care.
And she finds, as she stares in the mirror and takes in the low neckline, high leg slit and bare back, that she really doesn't care.
xxxxxxxxxx
Gendry had been standing in the cloakroom for nearly an hour, impatiently bitting his nails to the quick.
Everytime someone walked in, he pretended to search his coat pockets or poked around on his phone's screen, as if he were sending a message. He'd only gained a few curious glances, but for the most part, the men and women that walked in to drop off their things ignored him.
He checks the clock for the sixteenth time and feels his teeth grind at it's slowness. He regrets taking Sandor's advice.
He had been nervously working on his tie back at the hotel, when the large man had walked into the bedroom.
"Move." He grumbled, pushing Gendry's anxious hands aside fixing the tie. Gendry watched the large, calloused hands work carefully on the tie, delicately molding the corners of the bow with severe attentiveness.
"Nervous?"
Gendry exhaled with a nod. "A little."
Sandor's expression remained hard and stoic but Gendry caught a small glint of sympathy in his eyes.
"If any of this psycho voodoo bullshit is true and she doesn't remember you, you can't risk fucking it up," he crossed to the bed to sit and Gendry wondered if this was his way of comforting him. If it was, it was shit. It only made him more nervous.
"I know that," Gendry turned to the mirror once more and pushed his short, sleek hair back.
"You should arrive there early. Wait for them in the cloakroom."
Gendry turned to the man, "Why?"
"If things don't go according to plan, which they most like won't, you'll have a backup plan. You said so yourself, that Anguy kid was willing to go behind Jaqen's back just this once. If this goes to shit tonight, you're back to square one."
"What does the cloakroom have to do with it?"
"Wait there. Everyone makes a stop there first. Arya and Jaqen will too. Pay attention to which coats are theirs. All the girls leave their hand bags there too. As soon as they leave, go through their things. Try and find an address, hotel keys, ID's. Something. Anything."
Gendry's eyebrows shot up at that. He let out a small chuckle. "You're right." he nodded, not even bothering to mask the shock in his voice.
But now, it didn't feel like the smartest plan. In 13 minutes it will be an hour. An hour of him just hanging about like an idiot. Even so, he would wait a little longer. Just 13 minutes. No more.
At that exact moment, Arya walks in.
The unexpected sight of her is a sharp blow to his chest. He remembers the last time he saw her. He had just killed a man, and then she left.
He takes a steady breath to still his nerves and turns away as soon as Jaqen walks in behind her. The last time either Arya or Jaqen had seen Gendry, he'd had a long mop of hair and a beard. He doubted they would recognize him from behind. Still, he could feel himself begin to break a sweat.
He thumbs in an entire paragraph of gibberish in his phone while glaring at them out of the corner of his eye. Jaqen helps Arya with her coat, hangs it, then his own and then holds out his arm for her to take. They both leave without a single glance his way.
A shaky breath escapes Gendry, and it takes him a few seconds before he can move again. He crossed straight to Arya's coat. The first pocket he checks has her hotel key. Fuck. He laughs quietly and shakes his head in disbelief.
"Sandor, you genius," he whispers and makes a mental note of the hotel name and slips the key back inside her coat, fidgets with his tie, tugs at his sleeves and heads for the party.
xxxxxxxxxx
Jaqen's hand rests on the small of her back as they leave the cloakroom and walk down a long hallway, into the main room. It was an explosion of light, candles, and banners.
Cat's eyes move around at the intricate costumes and the long, curling feathers decorating the hair of women and the hats of men.
There was masks of all sorts.
Classic venetian masks. Simple masks, like her own. There was demons of all shapes, colors and different levels of grotesque. She saw a sun and a moon standing near a bright green banner, their flute champagne glasses held against their lips as they whispered amongst each other with small, secret smiles.
In the blur of faces and glittering gowns that seemed to change color under certain light, Cat could feel her nerves calm. She blended in perfectly. A few faces turned as Jaqen walked in, with this skinny, strange girl. All eyes fell on him. She was invisible behind this mask.
I am no one, she thinks with a small smile. Just a yellow cat among fiends.
A man with a smilling teal mask halo-ed by blood red feathers walks to them. Jaqen's hand leaves her back and he takes a step towards the man. They greet each other in German, and Cat averts her eyes and ears from them, once again taking in the sight of it all. A large staircase leads to a second level, which circles the room in small, balcony like sections. At the very top of the stairs, is a tall, thick Christmas tree. Cat flares her nostrils and inhales hoping to, perhaps, catch it's sweet, piney scent. The air in the room is a combination of heavy scents, though. They all blend into what she could only describe as an overpowering mesh of perfume and she feels stupid for trying.
It's Christmas day.
The tree is decorated heavily with masks and trumpets and life like birds of every possible color. She doesn't realize she's been staring stupidly at the it for far too long until a hand touches her bare arm.
"I'll get us a drink." Jaqen tells her and walks away with the teal mask to a distant bar. He returns alone, handing her a glass. She takes it, but does not drink from it.
The large room was twice as full as when they had arrived. After a few moments, teal mask climbes the steps with a woman in a blue dress that turnes a bright violet near the hem, everyone falls silent and the lights dim. A spotlight is cast on them and they both smiles down at everyone.
It seemed as if the entire universe was contained in that dress. Thousands of little beads and crystals formed clusters of stars and galaxies in that single piece of fabric.
The woman held a microphone near her mouth in one gloved hand.
"Happy Christmas!" she greeted them cheerfully in a thick, Finnish accent. Most of the guest replied. She continues the rest of her speech in three different languages, and when she is finished, a string quartet arranged to the left of the staircase begins to play a slow melody.
A tall, model-like woman with bony shoulders and a shaved head steps onto the platform besides the string quartet.
Cat had no idea who she was, but it appeared some of the other guests did for they cheered and gasped. The woman wore no mask; just black eyeshadow that feathered around her eyes in the shape of a mask. Her simple black and white dress seemed plain in comparison to the more elaborate costumes worn by most of the women. A man stepped onto the platform from the shadows, and there was more cheering. He wore a fitted tux and a streak of black across his eyes. He took his place besides the woman, and Cat noticed their height and frame was almost identical. They could be twins.
They greet everyone in unison, and the quartet music grows louder. Other instruments join, as does a heavy bassy drum.
Couples begin to fill the dance area. Jaqen appears about to ask her to dance, when a small, dark haired man with a white mask steps through the doors. Most people move out of his way. Cat follows Jaqen's gaze to the teal masked man.
She feels his fingers curl around the back of her neck and pull her into him. "Save me a dance, lovely Cat," he whispers against her face and presses a kiss to her cheek.
She shivers against the contact and her eyes follow him across the room to the small man. Teal mask was joins with him as does a fourth man with greying hair and an elephant mask. They all greet each other and teal mask leads them to one of the many doors along the walls and the small group of men disappear into it.
With Jaqen gone, Cat is left to shift her weight in the ungodly heels and stand around like an idiot. She decides to walk around a bit, sipping slowly on her champagne until the glass produces no more drink. A man with a tray rested on his forearm walks by her and she sets her glass down and grabs a full one. She takes a big gulp and the fizz burns the back of her nose and throat. She stifles a cough.
"Easy there, princess," a voice whispers behind her and long fingers circle her arm. Cat jolts around and the back of the hand that is holding the glass slams into a chest. Champagne splashes onto the man's ribbed tuxedo shirt. Cat hears a strained groan. When she looks up, she is facing a skull.
The mask was quite a sight. Clearly made of porcelain, the top half of it was painted gold with intricate jeweled leaves carved into it. Hints of golds peeked through the line of teeth that smiled at her from a sharp jaw bone. The mask covered the entire face allowing her only a peek at the eyes and nose.
"Great!" the man mumbles as he plucks the handkerchief from his white tuxedo jacket and presses it over the yellow stain.
"Anguy!" Cat is actually relieved to see him.
He confirms his identity with a quick glare. She smacks him on the shoulder with a smile.
"Hey!" he is laughing and dabbing at the stain on his shirt. "Say my name a little louder, why don't you."
"Who are you supposed to be? Death?"
Anguy shrugs, and Cat is sure that behind the mask, he is smiling one of his idiotic, crooked smiles.
"What about you?" he curls his fingers like a cat and purrs. "Trying to be clever, are ya?"
"Jaqen picked it out. He though it would be... appropriate." Cat informs him defensively.
"More appropriate than that dress?"
She feels her jaw clench as she rolls her eyes.
"I'm only teasing, love, " Anguy nudges her playfully. "You look great. Almost didn't recognize you."
"Shut up,"
"So where is Jaqen?" he turns and searches the crowd.
"He went in there..." Cat points to the door, "...with these men. All he said to me was, save me a dance, lovely Cat."
Anguy huffs out at her lame attempt at Jaqen's voice. "That was terrible!" he snorts. "It's more like..." he clears his throat, "Luv-lly Cat. Save us a dance, luvely Cat. Cat. Caaaat. Meow, the cat goes."
"You're an idiot," she chuckles.
He shrugs, pleased with himself. "I try."
"Do you think he'll be long?"
Anguy is looking towards the door with a considering look in his face. "Maybe," he allowed.
"I hope so. Then I don't have to dance." Cat sipped up the bit champagne that survived the crash.
"What about me?" Anguy gasps out resentfully.
She turns to him and squints her eyes at him. "You dance?"
"Ha!" he cries out, and with one hand he takes hers and with the other he snatches her empty champagne glass and hands it to a random lady.
And then he is pulling her towards the dance floor.
"What are you doing!?" she tries to wiggle free but his hand won't give.
"Stop being a pussy!" she hears him yell over the music. He twirls her and pulls her into him, rests his hand on her waist and nods. "Dance!"
It takes a few tries to get in tune with him, but by the end of the song, she has him figured out. He is a suprisingly good dancer. Much better than Jaqen, or anyone else she had seen that night. The song that followed was slower, so they had a chance to talk.
"See, this is not so bad, is it?"
She shrugs, even though he's right. "Your mask looks stuffy."
"I can see your bruise through your bangs."
"Who cares?"
"Did he take a piss when he saw it?"
"Not really. Did your lip bruise?"
He partially lifts the mask up. The area is slightly swollen and pink. The cut a dark brown line splitting his bottom lip. He pushes the mask back in place and places his hand on her waist.
"Sorry," she offers him with an apologetic smile.
"Don't worry yourself about it, love."
They dance one more song before sprinting to the closest server for drinks.
Cat's surprised at how much she is enjoying herself. Anguy is very easy to be around, and Cat is wearing a mask. She could be anyone.
"She looks like a sausage in the dress!" Anguy points to an older woman in a burgundy dress who was dancing with a gentleman in his 60's. "The dress will pop open during the next twirl, watch."
Cat grins and pops another of the thimble sized veggie pies into her mouth, washing it down with champagne.
"How many of those have you had?" Anguy flicked her glass. Cat loves the high note that rings out. She snorts.
"Not too many," she tells him, trying to count the amount in his head, but she can't remember. "I feel fine"
The skull mask tilts to one side. "Why don't we make this one the last one, yeah?"
"Scared I'll get drunk?"
"Keep in mind who you walked in through those doors with."
The light playfulness she was feeling popped, like a bubble floating up. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Jaqen has many important friends and acquaintances in this party. We are here with him, and so anything we do will reflect on him. Best we keep a low profile. If you want to, and if his highness permits, I can take you somewhere after this. We can get trashed," he snorts, "doubt he will though."
"I'm not here with anyone." Cat snaps out fiercely.
"Sure you are."
His condescending tone angers her.
"No, I am not," she hisses through her teeth. This makes him laugh and she hears just how much like a child she sounds. Upset, she takes his nearly full glass and chugs it down in defiance. It does not have the desired effect, as Anguy only laughs harder.
"Go fetch me another," his voice is chipper with laughter.
"Fetch it yourself," she thrusts the empty glass hard into his hand and whirls away, but his hand catches her arm and pulls her to face him.
"Oi, love," he whispers at her softly and pulls his mask off so that she can see the sincerity in his face. "I don't like it neither. But we are what we are. Puppets. Not Jaqen's. He's a puppet too. If you asked to be trained, if you asked to learn from him, then you should realize that sometimes we have to wear masks and play parts in order to pull off a job. That is why you are here. Tonight you play the part of his escort. This is Jaqen's way of helping you detach from who you are. Believe me, there will be parts you'll love to play, and parts you won't. Perks of being an assassin, I guess."
He said the last with a small smile and let her arm fall.
This was the first time Cat could recall hearing the word assassin associated with what she was to become. Coming from Anguy, it felt foul. He made her feel like there was something wrong with this world she was becoming a part of, and she did not like that.
"Anyway," he scrunched up his nose at her and fitted his mask back on, "why don't you fetch me that drink, then we can dance some more, yeah?"
Cat nods, feeling a bit deflated. Just as she is leaving though, Anguy catches her hand.
"On second though, let's us just go dance. I am ain't that thirsty anymore."
He sounds nervous, and his eyes are staring over her head. She looks in that direction, expecting to see Jaqen, but he is not there.
"What did you see?"
"No one. Ready?"
He is leading her towards the dancers.
"I asked what, not who. You're nervous and a crap liar."
"I really saw nothing. Promise. I ain't got no business lying you, love," he calls over his shoulder. Liar. "Come on, I love this song."
"Fine."
Her eyes dart over every masked face they pass. Masks. They are all wearing masks.
The eerie realization hits her and she feels naked and exposed.
Anguy says something that sounds like a joke. She chuckles, her vigilant eyes never resting on one face for too long.
They dance but her eyes are still everywhere, and Anguy can tell. When the song ends, she's about to excuse herself for a moment, when a voice behind her startles them both.
"May I have this next dance?"
Anguy and Cat's head's snap in the direction of the voice. It's a man. Bright blue eyes look to Anguy from behind a plain black mask. Cat hopes Anguy feels her uneasiness and courteously refuses the stranger.
"Of course." Anguy sounds hesitant.
Cat clenches her jaw. I will kill you! You're dead Anguy! She screams at him with her eyes.
Anguy seems to ignore any unspoken threat and pushed his mask up. "She's all yours, mate," he's not facing the man when he says this and in his eyes Cat notices what she only describe as sadness. This confuses her.
He leans forward and presses a soft kiss on her bruise. Cat realizes then that he does not want this. It's out of his control. She guesses this man is probably one of Jaqen's business colleagues and she has no choice either.
Puppets. We're all puppets.
"If... the lady condones, of course." Anguy turns to the man with one of his cocky smiles.
Is he giving me say in this?
Blue eyes are on her.
Puppets.
Some part I will like, others not so much.
She nods politely.
Anguy steps aside and Blue Eyes takes his place. Her eyes follow the tall redhead as he disappears into the crowd of people. Just one dance. Then you excuse yourself and find Anguy.
"Hello," Blue Eyes smiles as a new song starts. His hand is on her waist and he pulls her in against his body. Cat grows stiff and the man's careful smile turns into a grin at her reaction.
"Sorry. This dance doesn't require a third person between us." he tells her with a cocky wink.
Cat's grips his hand tightly. Who the hell does he think he is!?
xxxxxxxxxx
"She's all yours, mate"
He watches as Anguy presses a kiss to her forehead and the two exchange a look.
"If the lady condones, of course."
Her eyes meet his and Gendry searches them with desperation.
He finds nothing. Not a flicker of recognition. Osha was right.
Anguy was telling the truth. It was all true. He could see it now. More real than anything else that happened before that moment. She does not know me. It pisses him off over and over again. Layer upon layer of rage fold on top of each other, but he can't look away.
If Arya wants to forget, maybe she is not the girl he thought he knew. Maybe it's best she stay here, with Jaqen.
Or... should he just grab her by the arm and drag her out of this place?
Osha's warnings echo in his mind and he shakes the idea from his head.
When Arya nods politely, Anguy steps aside.
Gendry takes her then. "Hello," he smiles down at her. Touching her feels surreal.
She doesn't know me. His grip on her waist tightens and he pulls her into him. Her body tenses. He bites the inside of his lip but it does not stop him from grinning. "Sorry, this dance doesn't require a third person between us." he winks when her eyes fix on his.
Her hand fists around his and he pushes her away from himself with more aggressiveness than he intended to, turns her, and pulls her in. His thoughts are in a frantic state. He is finally here, with her, and damn it all to hell, why can't he think of what to do next. After a few seconds of nothing, he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.
"You look great."
Arya's eyebrows furrow. The compliment clearly makes her uncomfortable. He chuckles and looks down at her dress. It was not her style. Jaqen had picked it out, no doubt. The shade of yellow suited Arya fine, but it was too revealing. She must be unhappy in it as her entire back was bare and the material hugged her too well. She looks like a woman.
"I can't be the first to mention it."
"No," she allows.
"Ah, she speaks."
"Are you... are you quoting Shakespeare?"
Her grimace is priceless and he can't hold back the hearty laugh that bubbles up his chest. It surprises him how alien laughing feels, but loves the feeling of warmth it brings. Especially since it makes her lips twitch in a small smile. "Well, the lines were appropriate. Lame, I know."
"Uhhh, yeah," she agrees, and he is glad that she seems a little more at ease now. He catches the scent of alcohol in her breath and he wonders if she is drunk. He clears his throat.
"So are you here with that guy?"
Arya simply nods, her eyes distracted by something behind him.
"Cool."
She nods again.
"No need to be rude though, you can talk when you dance, you know. Even with strangers."
"Hmm?" she is still not looking at him.
"Nevermind," he twirls her, "So... you aren't here with Jaqen then?"
Her eyes snap to him and she stops dancing.
"What?"
He smiles. "I was just trying to get your attention."
"You know Jaqen?" her interest seems piqued.
"Everyone here who matters knows about Jaqen. Everyone here saw you two arrive together."
His answer satisfies her and they are dancing again. He presses her hand, trying to get some sort of reaction from her when he notices the sharp glimmer coming off the bracelet around her wrist. It looks heavy and expensive.
"He give you these?" he brushes his thumb against the side of the bracelet. It shifts a tad, revealing black skin underneath. He doesn't try to mask his surprise and he pushed the entire thing up without thinking. The black underneath is a tattoo.
Arya snatches her wrist away but he catches her hand and once again brings her so close to him that their bodies are pressed inappropriately against each other.
She huffs out through her nostrils.
"Am I making you nervous?" he whispers near her mouth as his thumb rubs a circle against her waist.
I sound like an overconfident prick. He blames it on the mask. On the fact that she doesn't recognize him and his desire to punish her because she doesn't.
"Of course not," she snaps back and he suddenly feels challenged by her. The song ends but he does not let her go.
"One more dance?"
A smile tugs at the corners of his lips when she shrugs with exaggerated indifference. She's trying to prove she is not intimidated.
Perhaps she is not.
So they dance. Two strained bodies moving together between other couples. Just when he feels her close enough to reach out to, she pulls away. He considers once more, dragging her out of there.
"Interesting tattoo, by the way." He wonders if Jaqen put her up to it and what it meant. Was it some initiation rite?
"You mentioned knowing Jaqen."
"Knowing of him."
"So... he does not know you? What was your name again?"
His eyebrows stir. "We met once."
"Anguy knows you, though." It wasn't a question.
"Sure," he shrugs. "But the more important question is, do you?"
The wave of naked emotions that invades her expression both amazes and amuses him as she realizes exactly what he's implying with his question. She pushes away from him as if he'd scorched her but he quickly grabs at her and steps into her, pressing his cheek against her temple.
"Shh shh shhh. Don't make a scene," he warns her in a menacing whisper.
"Who are you?" she asks calmly. Boldy. Fearlessly. Not a hint of panic in her voice and worse of all, with genuine curiosity. She has no fucking clue who I am. It hits him all over again. How did he forget. He blinks against the pang.
He wants to shake her then. To scream at her. To demand she tell him who she was. To yell at everyone. At his father and the men that killed Ned, and Yoren and Theon. He wants to punch Jaqen and every Lannister.
WIth a stiff nod of acceptance he brushes away from her face and instead of yelling, he grabs her neck before he can convince himself against it, and pulls her in against his lips.
He was tired of thinking. Exhausted of it all and so fucking tired.
The clash of mouths was savage and unkind. Arya's whole body reacted as Gendry's tongue invaded her mouth.
The kiss was too angry; too agressive to enjoy, but he still found release in it.
It was nothing like their first kiss. He could taste champagne and blood. At this proximity, he could smell her and she did not smell like Arya. For the few seconds that it lasted, a small, stupid part of him hoped Osha was wrong. Hoped the kiss would do the trick. Like a fucking fairy tale. Gendry, you pathetic asshole.
Arya drags the tips of fingers up his throat and grasped his jaw tightly, pulling him away from her with gentle control. In the dim violet lighting, he can see the fire in her eyes. Arya's fire.
She blinks a few times, casually taking in their surroundings. She's making sure we have not caused a scene.
"Well," he wipes at his lips to erase all traces of her on him, "thanks for the kiss. It was... ok."
With a single step she is close enough to lean in and whisper in his ear, "You're disgusting."
He grins and leans into her ear. When she tries to step away he holds her shoulder.
"And you... you disappoint me." he whispers as harshly as he can, and with his lips around her lobe, tugs at the earring sleekly. She flinches away, her eyes closed with repulsion, and this only aids him. This was his last chance.
When he looks at her, her face is expressionless and hardened and it breaks his heart.
"Well," he spits the earring into his cupped hand and tosses it in the air. The song came to an end and everyone crowded together to cheer and applaud the band. "Thanks for the diamond."
He doesn't wait to see her reaction. WIth quick feet, he walks towards the exit.
After he's pushed her buttons, harassed her as he just had in front of all these people and stolen her diamond, she has no choice but follow him. If there is anything left of Arya, she would follow. Try and kick his ass or something.
He steals a glance into the hall and sighs with relief when he sees that Arya is indeed headed his way.
"Oh shit!" he laughs with excitement and nervousness.
Quickly, he runs to the cloakroom, grabs his coat and reaches in for his phone. Brienne is with Dany's team, and most likely being monitored so he calls Sandor. He picks up immediately.
"Yes?"
Gendry is pushing through the doors into the cold, and he can hear heels click behind him.
"Headed to the East Exit. She's following me. Be there."
"Ok."
"And Sandor, be ready. We are about to kidnap Arya Stark."
xxxxxxxxxx
AN
Cliffhanger!
Hello readers!
To those of you still reading this, you deserve a medal for your amazing patience.
When I started this story, I never intended it to take this long, but a las, life will do that to you. I must finish this, for you all :)
Short chapter. I suspect most of my chapters will be around this length from now on, in order for me to keep them flowing. I have about 2,000+ words of chapter 36 done, though, so I hope I can get that out before the week is over.
For Anguy and Arya's mask google "gold skull venetian mask" and "wire cat venetian mask"
I want to hear your thoughts.
Tell me how you feel about me popping out of my rabbit hole and bringing you this chapter. Tell me what you think about the chapter too. It was a bit of a struggle to get back into the story after so long. It has been some time since I have written anything, but I feel pleased with it. Please review.