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ippoliya · 2 years

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Rhaena Targaryen and Sansa Stark: Parallels and Speculation

In an interview with Entertainment Weekly’s James Hibberd, George R.R. Martin responds as follows when asked whether Fire and Blood would tease what is to come in A Song of Ice and Fire:

Are there any hints here in terms of what’s to come in your Ice and Fire saga? There are a few that are definitely important, but I’m not going to flag them. Readers will have to find them and puzzle out whether they’re hints or red herrings. (x)

The distinct similarities between Sansa Stark in A Song of Ice and Fire and Rhaena Targaryen in Fire and Blood lead me to conclude that Rhaena’s life provides us with some “hints” from which we can predict Sansa’s endgame.

I. The Wild and Willful Sisters

A pertinent connection between Rhaena and Sansa are their wild and willful sisters. Below, I catalogue several similarities between Baela Targaryen and Arya Stark.

First, Baela and Arya are known for their willful behaviour:

“[Baela] is wild, willful, and wanton, as we feared,” (Fire and Blood, 648) “[Baela] was as wild and willful a young woman as any in the realm” (Fire and Blood, 645) “[Arya’s] long horsey face got the stubborn look that meant she was going to do something willful.” (AGOT, Sansa I) “And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful.” (AGOT, Jon III)

Second, Baela and Arya commonly consort with the small folk:

“Time and time again she would escape her ladies to seek adventure in the streets. She took part in drunken horse races along the Street of the Sisters, engaged in moonlight swims across the Blackwater Rush (whose powerful currents had been known to drown many a strong swimmer), drank with the gold cloaks in their barracks, wagered coin and sometimes clothing in the rat pits of Flea Bottom.” (Fire and Blood, 645) “Sansa knew all about the sorts of people Arya liked to talk to: squires and grooms and serving girls, old men and naked children, rough-spoken freeriders of uncertain birth. Arya would make friends with anybody. This Mycah was the worst; a butcher's boy, thirteen and wild, he slept in the meat wagon and smelled of the slaughtering block. Just the sight of him was enough to make Sansa feel sick, but Arya seemed to prefer his company to hers.” (AGOT, Sansa I)

Third, Baela and Arya’s rejection of gender and class restrictions is a source of tension for their teachers' that strive to inculcate gender and class norms:

“Septa Amarys, who had been given charge of her religious and moral instruction, despaired of her, and even Septon Eustace could not seem to curb her wild ways.” (Fire and Blood, 646) “I despaired of ever making a lady of [Arya].” (ACOK, Catelyn VII) "Sansa's work is as pretty as she is," Septa Mordane told their lady mother once. "She has such fine, delicate hands." When Lady Catelyn had asked about Arya, the septa had sniffed. "Arya has the hands of a blacksmith." (AGOT, Arya I)

Fourth, Baela and Arya are romantically involved with bastards. Baela marries Alyn of Hull, later known as Lord Velayron, and Arya's relationship with Gendy, the bastard son of an alehouse worker and Robert Baratheon, is replete with romantic undertones*.

Finally, Baela/Rhaena and Arya/Sansa have strong sun and moon imagery*.

Sansa is your sister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you … and I need both of you, gods help me." (AGOT, Arya II) “Baela’s dragon, the slender pale green Moondancer would soon be large enough to bear the girl upon her back/“ “Baela’s twin had brought a dragon’s egg with her to the Vale … and egg that had proved fertile, bringing forth a pale pink hatchling with black horns and crest, Rhaena named her Morning.” (Fire and Blood, 432 & 593)

In short, the first similarity Rhaena Targaryen and Sansa Stark share is their wilful sisters. Baela Targaryen and Arya Stark challenge the status quo by undermining inherent gender, social, and class restriction; have romantic ties to bastards, and share sun and moon imagery with their respective sisters.

*Arya Stark was initially romantically tied to another bastard, her half-brother Jon Snow, as was revealed in the 1993 ASOIAF outline. Jon Snow is theorized to be the bastard son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.

*Although Ned’s “sun and the moon” quote does not specify which of the Stark sisters is the sun and which is the moon, I speculate that Arya is the moon and Sansa is the sun. For one, Baela’s “moondancer” brings to mind Arya’s expertise in sword dancing. Second, as this essay (x) demonstrates, the moon plays a larger role in Aryas narrative than it does in Sansa's.

II. The Dutiful Daughters

It should be acknowledged that there are fewer connections between Rhaena and Sansa than there are between Baela and Arya. This is due to the Rhaena’s minor role in the Dance translating to limited information about her character. Nevertheless, the few mentions of Rhaena strike a compelling comparison to Sansa.

To begin, both Rhaena and Sansa lose their pets soon after bonding with them. Rhaena’s first dragon egg hatches but dies shortly after emerging from the egg. Similarly, Sansa’s dire wolf, Lady, is killed roughly three months after bonding with Sansa.

“Rhaena’s egg had hatched a broken thing that died within hours of emerging from the egg” (Fire and Blood, 432-3) “Lady was dead” (ASOS, Sansa IV)

Second, in contrast to their willful sisters, Rhaena and Sansa embrace and conform to the traditional feminine traits of their milieu:

“Lady Rhaena proved to be as tractable as her sister had been willful.” (Fire and Blood, 649) “[Sansa] was the good girl, the obedient girl …” (AGOT, Sansa IV) "Sansa was a lady at three, always so courteous and eager to please.” (ACOK, Catelyn VII)

Relatedly, Rhaena and Sansa enjoy by pomp and spectacle of the court:

“… Rhaena delighted in being the centre of court life” (Fire and Blood, 645) “She loved King's Landing; the pageantry of the court, the high lords and ladies in their velvets and silks and gemstones, the great city with all its people.” (AGOT, Sansa III) “Sansa would shine in the south, Catelyn thought” (AGOT, Catelyn II)

Finally, the Vale of Arryn establishes a pertinent connection between Rhaena and Sansa. During the Dance, Rhaena accompanies her cousin, Prince Joffrey, to the Vale where she spends the remainder of the war as a ward of Lady Arryn. Comparably, Sansa is smuggled from King’s Landing to the Vale where she adopts the identity of Alayne Stone and takes care of her cousin, Robert Arryn*.

In short, Rhaena and Sansa share three notable connections: the death of their bonded animals, embodiment and embrace of traditional feminine and Southron ideals as it relates to behaviour and activities, and spending their formative years at the Vale.

*Rhaena and Sansa led somewhat different lives at the Vale. Rhaena is said to have “enjoy[ed] a life of comfort and privilege as Lady Jeyne’s ward” whereas Sansa, while enjoying the comfort and privileges of being the alleged daughter of the Lord Protector, is embroiled in problematic political schemes and experiences sexual harassment at the hands of her alleged father.

III. Kind, Gentle, Noble versus Brave, Gentle, Strong

“There are a few [hints] that are definitely important,” says Martin. Given these connections, what does Rhaena’s story “hint” about Sansa’s endgame?

Perhaps Rhaena eventually hatching another dragon, Morning, is meant to hint at Sansa eventually receiving a second dire wolf. Perhaps Rhaena’s role in solving a succession crisis is teasing Sansa’s involvement in solving a potential Arryn or Stark succession crisis? These are all compelling answers, but a third captures my attention: Rhaena’s marriage.

After the Dance, King Aegon the Third's regents attempt to secure a successor for the young king by marrying off his half-sisters, Baela and Rhaena. However, Baela defies the regents by marrying Alyn Velayron. Incensed, the regents attempt to prevent Baela from being the first to provide the Crown with a suitable successor and thus quickly order Rhaena to marry a man of her choosing.

Assessing her options, Rhaena requests that her potential husband meet the following criteria:

“[I]t would please me if he was not so old he could not give me children, nor so fat that he would crush me when we are abed. So long as he is kind and gentle and noble, I know that I shall love him.” (Fire and Blood, 649)

She chooses to marry a man that she is “especially fond” of, Ser Corwyn Corbray. Rhaena’s decision is considered “far from an ideal choice” for several reasons. In particular, Ser Corwyn is thirty-two years old (sixteen years Rhaena’s elder), a second son, and has two daughters from a previous marriage. Nevertheless, the marriage is accepted not in the least part due to Lord Corbray’s influence as Lord Protector of the Realm.

—

I believe Rhaena’s marriage to Ser Corwyn is meant to “hint” at a future marriage between Sansa and Sandor Clegane. For one, Rhaena’s request that her husband is “kind and gentle and noble” echoes a promise Ned Stark made to Sansa:

When you're old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who's worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. (AGOT, Sansa II)

Although, Sansa characterizes several characters as brave, gentle, and strong, Sandor is the only character that Sansa describes using all three adjectives:

“To thank you, for . . . for saving me . . . you were so brave." (ACOK, Sansa IV) “The Hound gave her a push, oddly gentle” (ACOK, Sansa II) “He pushed her toward her wardrobe, almost gently.” (AGOT, Sansa VI) “The Hound pulled her to her feet, not ungently.” (ACOK, Sansa III) “Strong hands grasped her by the shoulders,” (AGOT, Sansa I) “She might have fallen, but a shadow moved suddenly, and strong fingers grabbed her arm and steadied her.” (ACOK, Sansa IV)

The quotes listed above are not the only moments where Sansa describes Sandor as such. Qveenofthorns created a graph illustrating the occasions where Sansa describes a character using those specific adjectives and finds that Sandor dominates the graph (illustrated here).

In addition to similar phrasing regarding what Rhaena and Sansa want in a husband, Ser Corwyn and Sandor share a few similarities. Ser Corwyn and Sandor are in their thirties, share a similar age gap of sixteen years with their romantic interests, and are second sons. However, there are some notable differences. Ser Corwyn was a previously married father and a knight of great renown … whereas Sandor has never experienced marriage and fatherhood, nor is he a knight — much less one of great renown. Nevertheless, these connections between Fire and Blood characters and ASOIAF characters are not meant to be a consistent one-to-one match but complementary.

*Ser Corwyn is Rhaena’s first husband. He dies attempting to settle a succession dispute between different Arryn claimants. Rhaena later marries an unnamed Hightower.

Conclusion

The distinct attitudes, interests, and experiences that characterise Rhaena Targaryen in Fire and Blood reappear in A Song of Ice and Fire through Sansa Stark. The compelling similarities between the two characters, which include the loss of a bonded pet, conformity to feminine ideals, and dwelling in the Vale under the wardship of Lady Arryn, indicate that Martin intends for Rhaena to be a "hint[] in terms of what's to come," as Hibberd puts it. Extrapolating from Rhaena’s narrative provides a crucial hint from which we can predict Sansa’s endgame. Specifically, given the similarities between Ser Corwyn Corbray and Sandor Clegane, Rhaena’s first marriage to the former may hint at Sansa’s impending relationship with the latter. Ser Corwyn and Sandor are second sons, in their thirties, and have a sixteen-year age difference with their romantic partners. In addition to these cursory similarities, Eddard Stark’s promise to Sansa that he will find her a husband who is "brave and gentle and strong" is oddly reminiscent of Rhaena’s request to the Council that her husband be "kind and gentle and noble." While Rhaena chooses to marry Ser Corwyn, who, by all accounts, meets her criteria, Sandor Clegane is the only character in the series that matches Eddard Stark's requirements.

#sansa stark #arya stark #rhaena targaryen #baela targaryen #sandor clegane #sansan #edited for clarity #hotd spoilers #fire and blood spoilers #sansan meta

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shattteredvisage · 5 years

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Ours is the Fury

Ironic that House Baratheon stans were the first faction to get screwed over by the writing and no one listened when they complained in season 5. Now their house words represent each and every one of us.

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youknownnothingjonsnow0303 · 4 years

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Ok, so Gendry is a YouTuber how makes videos about DIY or how to fix things and he stars a series where Arya narrates his videos. And it all stars with “My best friends narrates my video” then “My girlfriend narrates my video” “my fiancé narrates my video” to finally “my wife narrates my video”.

His videos are really good, he makes great things and has a really good amount of fans, but Arya’s videos are great because she is really funny “Look at this handsome man, it’s my handsome man, but enjoy the view”.

The most viewed video is the proposal one, witch Gendry makes a ring and Arya is like “what are you doing? You are doing jewelry now??? Ok, babe I love it... that’s a nice ring though... wait? What... OMG GENDRY”

#gendrya #gendrya group chat #arya stark #gendry baratheon #gendy waters #arya x gendry #modern au #gendrya posivity

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onefail-at-atime · 4 years

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Gendry: You're getting a tattoo? Won't it hurt?

Arya: *turns to walk away from him* I was stabbed while abroad. I'll be fine.

Gendry: *scrambles after her* You were STABBED? You can't just - Arya, wait! We need to talk about this!

#arya stark #gendrya #gendry waters #arya x gendry #arya stark x gendry baratheon #arya stark x gendry waters #gendry baratheon #gendry x arya #gendy waters x arya stark #a song of ice & fire #asoiaf #asoif/got #game of thrones

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3holmes · 5 years

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GoT Season 8

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ijennyathome · 5 years

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Yeah, well actually.... your father killed Jons father. (Robert killed Rheagar in the battle at the Trident.)

Neither of them ever met their father or knew who their fathers were. Just liked to point it out.

#gendrya #gendry baratheon #gendy #jon snow #jon stark #jonsa #got season 8 #got s8

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ebmordecai · 5 years

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Chapter 3 is up!

#game of thrones #gendrya #gendry #gendry waters #arya stark #gendry baratheon #gendry x arya #arya x gendy #my fanfiction

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itsmionet · 4 years

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Challenge accepted

Fake dating AU

Robert Baratheon is retiring from politics and the Lannisters throw a little retirement party. Out of courtesy and politeness, Eddard Stark forces his family to go. After a while, Joffrey starts poking fun at Sansa until Margaery sweeps in to save the night by pretending to date Sansa.

“So I’m standing there barefoot, my lasagne only mid-eaten, the car has caught on fire and my boyfriend is coming out of the portable toilet with a roll of toilette paper rolled up his torso-“

Sansa walked past Arya as fast as she could. She didn’t want to listen again to that unrefined story of hers. The first time she had to sit through that story had scarred her enough for life. She did not want to hear it ever again.

Sansa made her way over to the table where the drinks were being served. She hated the party. The only reason she was there is because her father had forced all Starks to go. ‘It’s important that we all attend. To show our gratitude to Robert for his services.’ Sansa could still hear Robb’s snort and Arya mumbling disgruntledly upon their father’s words.

This year Robert Baratheon retired from politics after nearly 40 years in the office. Everyone at the Stark household except for Ned had cheered upon the news, but their bliss had quickly faded away as soon as they learnt whose name was among the candidates running for the open position. The list was pretty dreadful as it were –with names like Baelish, Stannis and Euron Greyjoy– but when you added Joffrey to the bunch, it only made it that much worse. And because Eddard Stark had a place on the council, he had been invited to Robert’s retirement party, which the Lannisters pretty much singlehandedly organised, aided with the Tyrells’ money.

Sansa poured herself a double whiskey and downed it all in one go. The drink burnt her throat but in a pleasant way. She sighed contently whilst filling her glass up again.

“Thought I’d find you by the alcohol stand.” A voice called out from behind her. Sansa pursed her lips together and clutched her glass tightly in her hand. “You picked up that trait from your father, surely.” Cersei Lannister chuckled dryly as she stood alongside Sansa. She didn’t cast her even once glance before she grabbed the closest bottle of wine and emptied it all on her glass.

“Nice party.” The redhead forced a smile on her face but she knew Cersei could see right through her. Not that she particularly cared, but she still had to put on a façade for her father’s sake.

“Oh, is it? You’ve barely been here for 10 minutes, most of which you’ve spent drinking my alcohol.” Cersei had drank half glass by the time she turned to face Sansa. Once she did, she looked at Sansa up and down, as if searching for something in particular.

“You can scarcely call it ‘your alcohol’ when it’s meant for the guests, can’t you?” Sansa flashed the blonde woman her brightest smile, albeit it was a fake one. Both women knew. Still, they both had to keep up the appearances.

“Hmm, I see that, unlike your dress, your boldness has grown larger.” The redhead was wearing a navy blue cocktail dress, with a golden strip on both shoulders. She’d found the exact dress that combined perfectly sophistication with a hint of sexiness. It was cut right above her knees, which meant it was short enough to be considered seducing, but still long enough to be an appropriate option to wear among her father’s colleagues. She completed the look with a pair of black heels.

“What can I say?” Sansa titled her head to the side casually. Her tone was polite and even borderline playful. “Time does wonders to a person, wouldn’t you say?”

“Indeed, it does.” Cersei tried to suppress the growl out of her voice, but she didn’t hide it quite as well as she would have wanted. “So” the woman scanned the room lazily when a thought popped into her head “is that uncivilised sister of yours around?” Cersei smirked, thinking she’d hit the nail on the head to get a rise out of the girl, but instead Sansa’s eyes lit up. She titled her head towards where Arya was standing.

“Hmm” she hummed “I believe she’s telling an uncivilised story to your kids.”

Cersei’s head couldn’t have spun faster. She looked across the room until her eyes landed on Arya. She was with Tommen and Myrcella and it seemed both kids were extremely enjoying themselves. Cersei didn’t like that one bit. Not only were her children getting along with a Stark, but by the hand gestures Arya was making Cersei knew that story was not for kids.

Before Sansa had the chance to add some witty remark, Cersei sprinted across the room to snatch Tommen and Myrcella away from Arya. The brunette blinked at the abruptness at which Cersei had taken the kids away, but she didn’t give it much thought and made her way to the alcohol stand instead.

Sansa grinned once Arya was by her side. “I take it Cersei didn’t like your story?”

Arya shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t see why not. That story had everything: action, drama, suspense...”

The redhead chuckled and shook her head “I’m sure once you think it through you’ll know why she didn’t find it so amusing.”

“What about you?” Arya redirected the conversation as she grabbed another beer. Sansa was not entirely certain, but she could’ve sworn that was Arya’s fourth. “Anything I missed?”

“Not really. I only made small chat with Cersei.”

“Nothing with Cersei is ever ‘small chat’.” Arya puffed. “How much longer must we stay here?”

“I don’t know.” Sansa scratched her chin. “I believe Father wants us to stay at least long enough to hear Robert’s speech.”

Arya growled audibly at that. “Well, that’s gonna take forever then.” Sansa agreed.

Both sisters turned their back to the stand and looked at the attendants. There was Robb chatting amicably with Theon Greyjoy, who hadn’t been previously invited but Robb had essentially begged their Father to let the boy come and so after much pleading he’d reluctantly agreed. If only for Robb’s sake. His son had said Theon would be the only thing that would keep him sane for the night. Sansa believed Greyjoy would have the contrary effect on her brother, but she didn’t say anything. At least he had a friend to keep him company.

Then there was Jon, standing awkwardly in a corner. He was talking with some other boy Sansa did not know but he seemed comfortable enough around him so she was happy for him. And because of their young age, Bran and Rickon had been left at home with Hodor, their sitter.

Lastly, the remaining Starks, Ned and Catelyn, were stood next to Robert Baratheon himself. The man laughed loudly at something her Father had said and Sansa was glad that, despite being surrounded by Lannisters, Ned had found somewhat of a friend.

There were more people than Sansa would have expected, still she only knew a handful of them, half of whom were her own family. As for the rest, Sansa either straight up didn’t like them or didn’t deem none of them interesting enough to strike a conversation with.

“I’m gonna go pee.” Arya said, ever so ladylike. “If I haven’t come back in 5 minutes, don’t come looking for me. Presume me dead.”

“Ugh, please do come back instead of sneaking off with Gendy again!” Sansa called out after Arya as the brunette walked away. She didn’t know if her sister had heard her or not. She supposed she had.

Sansa sighed and finished her drink. She turned to the table and started to pour herself another one, already planning on joining Robb and Theon when someone came up beside her. Sansa prayed to the Old Gods that it wasn’t Cersei again.

“That’s a bold choice for a dress.” It was not Cersei who spoke, but at that moment Sansa wished it had been. “That’s too slutty even for you.”

Sansa turned around slowly, whilst displaying the fakest smile she’d ever put on. “Joffrey” she said lightly. “How are you?”

“Better than you, that’s for sure.” He snickered. “What’s up with the whore attire? It’s not like you’ve got someone to impress. Unless” his eyes gleamed in a way that made Sansa shiver “you’ve dressed up like this for me”.

“I’m afraid that would not be the case.” Sansa pursed her lips together. Being around Joffrey always made her feel uneasy, even while they were dating. There just was something that was not right with the boy. After everything that happened, Sansa believed she’d grown stronger but being there, alone with him, she felt every hair at the back of her head stand up. Her whole body already tensing.

“Oh?” Joffrey furrowed his brow, his tone growing unkinder by the minute. “What then? Are you trying to rig the elections by showing off your cunt? So that dear ol’ daddy will win? I hate democracy.”

“My Father is not even running for the position.” Sansa’s hand closed around the glass tightly. She was determined not to lose her temper if only for her Father’s sake. Even so, Joffrey was making that task very challenging for her.

“You’re doing it for me then?” Joffrey took a step closer to Sansa. His breath reeked of cheap vodka and Sansa had to suppress a grimace. She noticed the glass on his left hand was full, which meant that was not his first drink of the night. “You know, tonight after this, I could come pay you a little visit-“ He grabbed her arm forcefully as he inched even closer.

“Joffrey, don’t-“

“Sans, darling!” Both heads turned around and were greeted by the sight of one Margaery Tyrell, who has approaching them with a beaming smile. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! You had me worried.” She hugged Sansa tightly and planted a soundly kiss on her right cheek as she withdrew away. Her eyes never leaving Sansa’s face. “What a beautiful dress! You look absolutely stunning.”

The fact that she’d completely ignored Joffrey made the boy furious. “Margaery” he called, malice dripping off his voice, but he tried to disguise as courtesy. Only he didn’t fool anyone. “I was not aware you were coming.”

Finally, Margaery looked at the boy. She smiled easily at him, as if she was actually pleased to be talking to him. “Oh, I would’ve arrived sooner, but Grandmother ran into an old friend of hers by the entrance and we were held back a few minutes.”

“I see.” Joffrey nodded his head. He didn’t match Margaery’s smile, opting instead for a scowl. He had planned to have his fun with Sansa for a while longer, but it didn’t look like Margaery would be leaving them alone anytime soon. Instead, the brunette slipped her arm around Sansa’s waist and pulled her flush against her.

Sansa for the life of her didn’t know what to make of it. Joffrey and Margaery were staring each other down, not saying a word, and the redhead felt as if the lion and the rose were silently trying to scare the other away.

“I’m sorry I had to make you wait for so long” Margaery told Sansa casually after some time, as if the latter had been actually waiting for her.

“Oh, it’s no problem.” Sansa smiled back at her. She realised Margaery’s smile seemed more sincere when it was directed at her, in contrast to the one’s she threw at Joffrey which –in Sansa’s opinion– appeared to be mocking the boy.

“I didn’t know you two were friends.” Joffrey spat at them. At that, Margaery actually threw her head back and so laughed loudly you’d think she’d just heard the greatest joke of all time. “Did I say something amusing?” He growled. Sansa could feel rather than see the tension between Joffrey and Margaery. She didn’t like it one bit and wanted so desperately to make it stop. But she didn’t know how to cut in. It looked like they were playing at a game Sansa did not know the rules of.

“Well, yes.” Margaery chuckled as her laughter died down. Then, she turned to Sansa right as Joffrey chose the worst possible time to try and end his drink in one go. “I thought you would’ve told him by now we’re dating.”

If Sansa hadn’t been so busy choking on air, she would’ve laughed at the way Joffrey accidentally spat out half of his drink on his clothes and his eyes bulged comically. Margaery noticed straight away Sansa’s confusion, so she took advantage of the fact that Joffrey was distracted drying the alcohol stains on his clothes and inched close to Sansa’s ear. “I can get rid of this little bastard in no time, just play along.”

Sansa nodded her approval and silently thanked her lucky stars for Margaery. She’d known the girl for a few years now, and ever since the beginning, she’d looked up at the older girl with such admiration. Everything about Margaery fascinated Sansa.

A couple of months into their friendship and Sansa was already enamoured with everything the brunette did. It wasn’t until Margaery casually told the redhead about her preference for women that Sansa’s mind began to wonder whether she had a shot with her. The thought scared her at first, back when she deemed herself to be as straight as an arrow, but as weeks and months passed, she realised she’d started to see Margaery in a different light. Or maybe it wasn’t a different light at all. Maybe her feeling had always been there but she had not realised it until then.

The thing is, ever since Sansa found out this new piece of information, she couldn’t help but notice every single little thing about Margaery. Like the way her nose would scrunch whenever she smelt something she didn’t like –like curry, smoke or gasoline– and the way she would close her eyes and breathe in contently when she smelt something she fancied –like roses, fresh pastries, the sea or Sansa’s perfume, although Sansa tried not to think too much about the last; lest she allowed herself to get her hopes up when she was certain a girl as stunning and perfect as Margaery wouldn’t notice a silly girl like herself.

Still, from time to time, she would let herself dream about what it would be like to be with Margaery, to be able to wake up next to her every day and be the reason behind her smiles and giggles, to be the first and last thing on her mind, to be the one Margaery wanted to spend her days and nights with.

It was Joffrey’s voice that brought Sansa out of her trance and back to reality. “You what?!” He was looking directly at Sansa as if she’d done him a great wrong. His face was bright red and his hand gripped too tightly on the glass. “Just when I thought you couldn’t be more disgusting, you do this.” He gestured at Sansa’s general direction, as if that would be explanation enough. “You dragged poor sweet Margaery into this fucking mess of yours. You perverted her with your deviating ways.”

Sansa had kept her cool this long and she had intended on doing so until Joffrey got bored and walked away on his own, but the very same moment he had demeaned Margaery like that was all it took for Sansa to snap at him. She took a daring step closer to him. “You talk to her again with such insolence and I promise you’ll regret it.”

“Oh, yeah? And what are you going to do?” Joffrey mocked.

“I’ll send Lady whilst you sleep to make sure you’re reminded of your place.” She gritted her teeth together.

“You, bitch.” Joffrey spat. “You can’t talk to me like that!”

“Of course I can” Sansa countered. Her blood was boiling and she felt like she was seconds away from doing something her Father would without a doubt chastise her later for. Still, she didn’t find it in herself to care. Not when Joffrey had insulted Margaery so blatantly. “If you knew what’s best for you, you’d walk the fuck away.”

Margaery widened her eyes and turned her head towards Sansa. It was the first time she’d ever heard the Northerner curse.

“Last time I saw you” the boy foolishly charged once more against the redhead, thinking he could still win the argument “you were dating that Bolton boy; so what happened that turned you into a dyke?” He snarled “Wasn’t his cock good enough?” Sansa didn’t know whether it was the remark or the laugh that came after that infuriated her most. She clenched her fists as her shoulders began to shake. It wouldn’t take long before she lost whatever remained of her composure. But Sansa had long lost interest in looking calm and collected, her sole attention being now focused on the boy.

“Pardon me” Margaery’s voice came out mellow and calm, but she was ready to throw hands. She let go of Sansa in order to stand between Joffrey and the redhead. She would’ve blocked Sansa’s view if it weren’t for Sansa’s height. Still, she intended on becoming some sort of human shield for the Northerner. “And who do you think you are to talk to my girl like that?” She took a defiantly step closer to the boy “she can dress however she pleases” another step “say whatever she pleases” another one “and date whomever she pleases.” Joffrey ended having to recoil a couple of steps back in order to maintain his balance. “Let this be the last time you disrespect Sansa, because so help me Gods, if I ever hear you say a single bad thing about her again I will hunt your ass down and beat you up so badly your own mother won’t recognise you.” Margaery was normally a very diplomatic and collected person, but Joffrey was managing to push every single one of her buttons.

“Come on, Margaery. You can’t possibly want to be around her.” He pronounced the last word as if it actually physically pained him to say it. “Let me take you out instead. I’ll show you what a real relationship looks like.”

“I’ll say this one more time and I swear it will be the last.” Margaery blinked almost flirtatiously. Her tone was soft but her eyes left no room for misinterpretation. She was furious. “Step the fuck away from my girl.”

Realising now Margaery had also turned on him, he decided to back down. “You know what? I have no use for her anyway.” Joffrey took a step closer to Margaery, which was compensated by Sansa stepping forward as well. The action resulted on Sansa being pressed firmly against Margaery’s back; the latter had to use some strength to hold the redhead back, lest she lost her nerves and pounced on the blonde. “You can keep your bitch.”

And that was that. It was then, right as the boy laughed cruelly at his own comment that she lost it. Even though Sansa’s anger was off the roof, it was Margaery’s punch that collided with his face. He threw some insults her way but Margaery couldn’t make out the words, given that his hands were cupping his bloody nose.

“You fucking dykes! You’ll regret this! You both will!” He yelled before storming off. As he ran to the bathroom, the brunette noticed the silence surrounding them and she casted her glance to the side in order to see the other attendant’s reaction.

The first person she saw was Cersei Lannister. The woman pursed her lips together but said nothing. She just stared at Margaery down for a few seconds before running after her son to aid him. Robert Baratheon cursed aloud and begrudgingly went to the bathroom as well. Margaery also noticed both Tommen and Myrcella offering her a tiny smile, displaying no kind of sympathy for their brother before Jaime Lannister was by their side. He calmly told them to go with him outside.

On the other end of the room was Theon, wearing a shit-eating grin and no doubt already planning on congratulating Margaery afterwards. Stood by his side was Robb, and although his face betrayed no emotion, he gave the brunette a subtle thumbs up.

“Wooooo!” Arya suddenly yelled, throwing both her hands up in the air, as if celebrating a touchdown. Her beer long gone. “Now this is a party!” Her smile matched Theon’s.

“I wouldn’t have done that if I were you.” Came a voice from behind Margaery. “I mean, I would’ve, I definitely would’ve because that douchebag had it coming but” Sansa grabbed Margaery’s bruised hand with much delicacy “I’m not sure that’s gonna sit well with your Grandmother, and much less the Lannisters.”

“Well” Margaery chuckled despite what happened “someone had to shut him up. Let me worry about them later.”

“Thank you” Sansa relaxed now that Joffrey was out of sight; her smile was timid but sincere “really.”

“No need to thank me, sweet girl.” Margaery smiled brightly at the redhead. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages, if I’m being honest.” That earned her a chuckle from Sansa.

“Margaery.” The brunette’s smile faltered away as soon as the voice came. She turned around slowly.

“Grandmother.” Margaery pursed her lips together. She knew her act would have consequences and even though she was well aware Grandmother Olenna didn’t like the Lannister boy one bit, she knew she’d have to deal with the result of her actions.

“May we speak alone?” It was a question, but the tone of voice with which it was accompanied left no room for objections. Margaery nodded, muttered ‘Sorry’ to Sansa and started to walk behind her Grandmother.

Not a full ten seconds had passed that Arya was by her sister’s side. “So, you two banging?” Arya bluntly asked Sansa once Margaery was out of earshot. She grabbed a beer from the table and took a large sip. “I heard Joffrey muttering something about you two dating. Although” she added “he used a much crasser terminology.”

For the second time that night, Sansa choked on her spit. “Wha- we’re not- I mean” she corrected herself, remembering Margaery had indeed referred to herself as her girlfriend. Not wanting to blow the Highgardener’s cover she quickly said: “We started out as friends!”

“Your point?” Arya tilted her head to the side and watched her sister expectantly. She didn’t particularly care about who Sansa was or wasn’t shagging, but she figured watching the redhead ramble would be a close second to the most fun she’d have that night so she was determined to stretch this conversation as much as she possibly could.

“I mean, you know…” Sansa was visibly struggling to find the right words but given that Arya was in no rush she watched amusedly as the taller girl gesticulated ambiguously with her hand in the air. “We were friends, so we decided to take it slow.”

“How come none of us knew you two were a thing?” The shorter girl asked.

“It’s still pretty new. We didn’t want to jinx it.” Arya hummed, seemingly content with the answer.

“I have to say” she paused to take another sip of her beer “your girl does clean up pretty nice. She’s caught the attention of every single man –and some women– since the moment she entered the building.”

The jealousy that coursed through Sansa’s body then was both unexpected and foreign. She had definitely noticed how extremely beautiful Margaery looked that night. The dress she wore was a shade of deep forest green and whereas Sansa’s straps had been relatively thin, Margaery’s were fairly broad, to make up for the plunging neckline she was showing off. The top half of her back was bare but her hair cascaded down flawlessly and covered some skin.

Sansa couldn’t blame the attendants for staring, because the sight was truly mesmerizing, what she did disapprove of, however, was how most of those looks seemed to only be directed at her cleavage. When the realisation crossed her mind Sansa felt a sense of possessiveness and, although she wouldn’t admit it even to herself, the thought ‘mine’ did come to mind.

As Arya cleared her throat, it occurred to Sansa that her sister was still waiting for an answer. “No surprise here.” Sansa shrugged casually as her gaze was directed at Margaery. The older girl was at the far end of the room, speaking with Lady Olenna. “She’s beautiful.”

Arya followed Sansa’s eyes until she saw Margaery. It did not go unnoticed by her sister the fact Sansa’s expression softened upon seeing the older girl. Arya smiled softly –mostly to herself. She’d known from the very first instant that Margaery had lied about dating Sansa, but she also knew about her sister’s feelings for the Tyrell girl. The redhead was pretty good at disguising her emotions, so only a very observant person would notice it. And despite her many flaws, if Arya was one thing was observant.

“You’ll still want to be careful around Cersei, though.” The shorter girl warned after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence. “She’s gonna want to strangle you as soon as the bastard is okay. The Lannisters are going to take Joffrey’s ex-girlfriend dating a lesbian as a great insult. It hurts their pride or some shit.”

“I know” Sansa sighed. She turned around and poured herself another glass of whiskey. “Let’s worry about that later, okay?” Arya nodded. She was about to add something else when she spotted out of the corner of her eye Margaery and her Grandmother approaching them. Arya excused herself in order to give her sister some privacy.

“Sansa, I would like you to meet my Grandmother.” Margaery offered her Grandmother a glass of wine and poured herself another one.

“Olenna Tyrell, dear.” Sansa was expecting her to hold out her hand but the woman never did. “I take it you’ve heard about me.” She took a sip of her own drink which prompted Margaery to do the same.

“I have, ma’am.” Sansa nodded. “I apologise for causing such a scene tonight.” She lamented.

“Nonsense.” The woman shook her head, taking the heat out of it. “The only thing I’m sorry for is that you couldn’t take a swing at him yourself as well.” Sansa smiled timidly.

“Grandmother!” Margaery snickered. “What will Sansa think of us? You raised me to be well-mannered.”

“And so I’ve done, dear.” Lady Olenna solemnly said. “You did well by your girlfriend when you knocked the troubled boy off his high horse.” Sansa blushed as she noticed Lady Olenna had referred to her as her granddaughter’s ‘girlfriend’.

“I take it you’re not angry at Margaery, then?” The Northerner sheepishly asked.

“I would have preferred my granddaughter to have had the decency to wait to pull off something like away from so many prying eyes, but” Lady Olenna sighed “I know just how loyal the girl can be to the people she loves and if your honour was on the table, well then, there was nothing nobody could’ve done to stop her.”

Sansa glanced at Margaery and was surprised when the older girl blushed and refused to meet her gaze. “That’s very kind of you to say, ma’am.” The redhead thanked the woman.

Lady Olenna hummed. “Anyway, I’m spotting the cheese plate I was promised about 10 minutes ago” She looked over her shoulder. “If you ladies will excuse me, I’m going to eat the food I paid for.” The woman bid her goodbyes, leaving the two girls alone.

“Sorry about her.” Margaery shook her head. “She can be a tad blunt sometimes.”

“It’s okay.” Sansa shrugged. “I like her.”

“I’m glad.” Margaery smiled easily at Sansa.

There was something at the back of her mind that was nagging Sansa. She didn’t know how to subtly approach the subject so she just dove right in. “Why did you say we were dating?” The question and the boldness with which Sansa said it took Margaery aback. “I mean, if you wanted to defend me” upon the lack of a direct response Sansa decided to clarify “you could’ve just done so without telling him we were a couple.” Sansa tilted her head to the side expectantly.

“And where’s the fun in that?” Margaery winked flirtatiously. The gesture made Sansa blush once again. “Besides, you look marvellous, darling. It would only be fit for you to have a date for the night.” Sansa tried not to think about the fact that her heart was beating faster with every word Margaery spoke. “Unless” she added on second thought “you wanted to be with someone else?”

“No!” It was almost embarrassing how quick Sansa declined the suggestion. She felt her face turn even redder, so she cleared her throat. “So, does this mean we have to keep up the charade all night long?” She chuckled to cover up her eagerness.

There was a gleam in Margaery’s eye that made Sansa shiver, but in a good way. “Wanna find out how many people we can scandalise by being extra affectionate in public?”

And if there was something Sansa was unable to do was deny Margaery anything. “Game on.”

Chapter 2

#sansaery #sansa stark #margaery tyrell #sapphic sansa fest #sansasource #sapphicsansafest

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gendrie · 5 years

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Prompt: big party, drunken Arya decides to confess her feelings for Gendry but she accidentally kisses Edric Storm instead (not her fault they’re really similar). Edric doesn’t understand shit. Gendry sees and gets totally pissed. Mya and Bella try to put some sense in that stubborn head of his

She decided to kiss him as a shot of tequila was burning a fiery path down her throat. It settled in her stomach filling Arya with the kind of resolve you only got from alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Arya had lost track of the number of drinks she had put back but it was probably one too many.

The room was spinning and the part of Arya who had been nearly drowned with countless shots (and one of Hot Pie’s special brownies) knew she should find a quiet place to sit with a glass of water but wasted Arya had made up her mind.

“I need to find Gendry!” Arya announced loudly to her friends.

“Oh my god,” Wylla replied in an equally loud voice. “Are you gonna finally confess that you’ve loved him forever?”

“And that you wanna have his babies?” Lyanna added wrapping her arms around their green haired friend.

“No!” Arya yelled over the music that was blasting in every corner of the Highgarden estate. “I’m going to fuck his brains out!”

They shrieked with laughter and cheers as Arya left them. She pushed her way out of the crowded living area with its high vaulted ceiling and shiny polished floor into the kitchen. There she saw at least two of her brothers playing beer pong with their girlfriends but she didn’t even acknowledge them as she continued out the back door.

It was Margaery Tyrells’ summer bash and everyone was there from Westeros University whether they were young or old, rich or poor. It was the biggest event of the year with seemingly limitless booze and food.

Arya scanned the countless people as she made her way outside. Sansa was flirting with Harry on the brightly lit dancefloor. Even in her drunken state Arya rolled her eyes at the sight of her older sister with her latest douchebag. She had the absolute worst taste in men. It was like she was allergic to decent human beings. Arya hurried past Bran and the Reeds who were huddled around a roaring bonfire. They gestured excitedly for Arya to join but she waved them off with a promise she’d see them later. Arya liked spending time with her little brother and his friends but they weren’t the company she currently craved.

She wanted Gendry, her best friend. He was strong and honest and funny in his own kind of way even if most people thought he was an asshole. But he was always there when Arya needed him. She trusted him more than just about anyone. She loved him. When Arya was sober she would tell herself she couldn’t do anything about it because if it ended badly their friendship would be ruined. She didn’t think Gendry returned her feelings either. He probably liked some older girl from one of his engineering classes. Arya was afraid of losing him by being stupid. At least sober Arya was afraid. Drunk Arya was fearless.

She found him standing by the pool with Shireen Baratheon and Devan Seaworth. Somewhere a small voice in the back of Arya’s mind whispered how odd that was. Usually Gendry only hung out with his brotherhood; Tom and Anguy and Jack and all the others. Or with her. But rarely his cousin and her boyfriend unless it was a formal Baratheon event. And Gendry avoided those like the plague.

But Arya shrugged off her inner voices concerns. She marched right up to the trio who looked at her curiously. Or at least she thought they did. It was hard to tell. This part of the property was only lit by dim lanterns.

“Hi,” she said to Gendry. She had barely seen him at all this night. They had crossed each other’s paths briefly earlier before being pulled apart by their respective friends. Highgarden was a very large place and it was easy to get lost.

“Hey,” he responded with one raised eyebrow. He looked confused as to why she was talking to him.

Arya didn’t wait for him to say anything else. She grabbed his strangely clean shaven face and pressed her lips to his.

Gendry saw red.

“Is Arya kissing…your brother?” Anguy asked, his voice full of amusement.

“I told you to shoot your shot months ago but you didn’t want to listen,” Tom added with a laugh. Gendry ignored them both as he surged forward. He was going to knock that punk out.

“Easy,” a voice commanded grabbing him by the arm. It was Mya, one of his older sisters and she was stronger than she looked. The grip around his arm was unyielding. “Let’s go for a walk, yeah?”

Gendry stared across the yard at Arya wrapped up in Edric’s arms. Her arms were thrown around his neck and she was pressing her chest against his. It was like a car wreck. Gendry didn’t want to look but he couldn’t help it. Mya had to pull him away towards the gardens.

“You were like a bull getting ready to charge,” Mya observed as they walked past perfectly sculpted topiaries and rose bushes. And another young couple making out passionately on a small iron bench. Gendry averted his gaze.

“I’m gonna kick his ass,” he threatened, nostrils flaring, as they approached a ridiculous fountain of a barely clothed cupid spitting water out of its mouth into a pond that held giant goldfish. It probably cost more than Gendry made in a year. Or two.

“You aren’t going to do that. He’s our brother,” Mya reminded him.

“I don’t give a fuck. He just had his tongue in my girlfriend’s-.” Both Gendry’s mouth and legs stopped short. He could feel the embarrassment coursing through his veins where anger had been only a second ago. He was an idiot.

“I’ve had way too much to drink,” he said weakly even though he had only one beer a couple hours ago. But he had to find some excuse for calling Arya his girlfriend when she most certainly was not. Gendry rubbed his scruff covered jaw. He wanted her to be his girlfriend and had for several years. Arya who was beautiful and fierce and loving. She was the best friend he’d ever have and the most amazing woman he had ever known. He was crazy about her. But she was out of his league and definitely only saw him as a friend anyway.

Mya just stared at him sympathetically.

“Did you guys see that?” An all too enthusiastic voice asked before either could say another word.

Gendry groaned as Bella appeared beside him. She must have saw the whole thing and followed them. Bella never knew when to leave well enough alone. She was bouncing excitedly in a pair of heels.

“Fuck off,” he told her with an annoyed huff.

“You fuck off,” she said with a smile and a cheery tone that contradicted her words.

“Look, I don’t know what that was back there but I do know Arya isn’t into Edric like that,” Mya said. “She’s in love with you.”

“Clearly not,” Gendry muttered.

“We can all see it. Even Barra thinks you two are a thing. Because you basically are.”

Gendry though back to the three of them playing house not to long ago. Barra, his five year old sister, had instructed Gendry to be the daddy and Arya the mommy while she would be their baby. Barra adored Arya and vice versa. They often included his baby sister in their hangouts. Gendry had to babysit a lot but Arya never complained. They had gone along with her game happily until his little sister demanded the two of them kiss. That had been awkward. Gendy had wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

His sister had her own evidence too.

“Like when you two were wrestling in the yard the other day?” Bella was saying bringing Gendry out of his memory. “And Arya was all,” She paused dramatically to flip her hair thick black hair and then continued in a breathy voice. “‘Oh Gendry pin me to the ground with your big…hard…body’.”

“Arya does not sound like that,” Gendry said his face was burning but he scowled intensely at her. “And it wasn’t like that at all. We were just playing around. Arya’s been taking some martial arts class.”

“Gendry,” Mya interjected before Bella could continue her mortifying reenactment. “I have way more experience with women than you do so believe me when I tell you Arya wants you.”

Gendry stared at the ground.

“She probably thought Edric was you just now,” Bella offered. “You two are like twins.”

That was true. They got mistaken for each other often despite the obvious differences. They dressed nothing alike for starters. Edric was always in perfectly ironed expensive designer clothes while Gendry wore the same ragged old things he’d had forever. Gendry was usually scruffier in general. But at least he didn’t have Edric’s huge ears. Gendry was slightly bigger than his brother too but besides that they were startling similar in appearance.

From behind, Gendry heard a familiar laugh and whirled to face it.

Arya was dragging Edric behind her with a fierce determination on her face that Gendry knew all too well. Once Arya got something into her stubborn head she was a force to be reckoned with. But she stopped suddenly when Gendry and his sisters came into view. Her face was screwed up. She looked back over her shoulder at Edric and then back at Gendry.

“Wait-” Arya closed her eyes and shook her head. “Gendry?”

Then she bent over and started throwing up loudly into the bushes.

“Oh fuck!” Edric exclaimed jumping back to avoid getting vomit on himself. Gendry shoved him even further out of the way to grab hold of Arya before she fell face first into the garden mulch. He pulled her hair back out of her face with his free hand.

“Hey, its okay,” he said softly. Her only response was to vomit more liquor onto the ground. He held her another moment longer until she got everything out. After Arya settled down on the stone pathway. She seemed to be half asleep.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Gendry demanded turning on his brother. “She’s wasted.”

“So am I,” Edric whined. He wobbled unsteadily on his feet. “What the fuck was I supposed to do? She just jumped me out of nowhere and before I could say anything she shoved her tongue into my mouth.”

“Shut up,” Gendry snapped. He did not want or need those details.

“Bro, chill,” Edric said putting a hand on Gendry’s shoulder. He shrugged it off angrily. They did not have that kind of a relationship. None of them had been raised alongside each other. Hell, they hadn’t even know the others existed until Gendry was thirteen. Edric was Gendry’s half brother. Like Mya, Bella and Barra they all shared the same deadbeat dad. But Edric’s mother was a wealthy socialite while the rest were bartenders, maids and strippers. Unlike his siblings, Edric had never wanted for anything.

“Do not call me bro,” Gendry growled.

“Bro…” he repeated stubbornly. Gendry looked directly into a pair of blue eyes just like his own. “After she was done sucking my face off she said your name.”

Gendry exhaled sharply.

“I told you!” Bella squealed. Mya just snorted knowingly.

“Gendry?” Arya murmured from the ground. Gendry looked down at her. She was leaning against his leg with her eyes closed. Gendry knelt down so that he could scoop her up in his arms.

“I got you, Arya.”

Arya woke up in a bed that wasn’t her own. Her face was buried in someone else’s pillow though it smelled familiar and comforting to her. She was alone and still wearing the same jeans and shirt from last nights party. That was a relief. But someone had taken off her shoes. Arya sat up despite the pain radiating from her skull to every corner of her body. She looked around and realized she knew this place. It was Gendry’s room in the apartment he shared with his three sisters.

Arya tried to remember what had happened but it was mostly a black hole of memory. It made her uncomfortable. Arya usually didn’t drink that much. She couldn’t remember ever getting this drunk before in her twenty years.

Slowly she pulled herself out of Gendry’s bed. On bare feet she went out into the living room. Sun was shining in through the window and Arya winced. There was a pillow and blanket on the couch where somebody had slept but other than that it was pretty tidy.

Arya followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen where Gendry was giving his little sister breakfast.

“Arya!” Barra jumped up from her seat and into Arya’s arms. She hugged the little girl back tightly. Gendry’s little sister was a little thing; still clad in her pajamas with her black hair a mess from sleep.

“Good morning,” Arya said to Barra who was beaming at her.

“Gendry said you’d be sleeping for a long, long time. I told him he should kiss you like Snow White,” Barra said with a big smile. She was always doing stuff like that. She was small but loved to play matchmaker.

Arya laughed as she sat down at the table but she could see Gendry blushing.

“And I told her you don’t kiss someone unless they say so first,” he grumbled pouring a cup of coffee. He placed it in front of her before kneeling to Barra’s level. “Why don’t you go play with your dolls,” he suggested lightly. “Let Arya have some quiet time. She doesn’t feel so good.”

Barra skipped out of the room. Gendry went back to the counter. Arya couldn’t help but appreciate the view. He was wearing a tight white tank top and grey sweatpants. He held up a box of cereal and shook it. Arya understood and nodded.

“Did I do something crazy last night?” Arya inquired a few minutes later as she moved the cereal around her bowl. Gendry hadn’t said much to her since she’d woken up. He was acting weird and Arya hadn’t a clue why. The night before was still a blur. She looked down at her knuckles. They were unmarked so she hadn’t fought anyone at least. Arya had a tendency to throw hands when drunk.

Gendry didn’t say anything. He just stared into his cup of coffee. That made Arya nervous. Gendry was the kind who said whatever came into his head. He did not hold back. Especially not with Arya.

“It was that bad?” All kinds of drunken shenanigans ran through Arya’s head. She could’ve gotten a terrible tattoo or pissed on Olenna Tyrell’s rosebushes or crashed a car. She could’ve had sex with someone. Maybe even Gendry. Arya breathed deeply to calm her nerves.

“You kissed Edric,” Gendry said at last.

“Which one?” Arya asked feeling her stomach sink. She knew two Edrics. One was Edric Dayne; blonde haired, purple eyed, and shy. He ran in the same circle as Gendry but they couldn’t stand each other. Or rather Gendry couldn’t stand Ned. He had been at the party last night. The other…

“My brother.”

Arya groaned and covered her face. Edric Storm was Gendry’s younger brother. They might as well be twins because they looked so similar. They were tall and black haired with the same face. The only difference was the ears.

She had meant to finally let Gendry know how she felt about him but instead she had accidentally made out with his brother.

“I thought…” Arya trailed off as she met Gendry’s eyes. He was staring at her. She had expected anger or disappointment. Gendry and his brother didn’t get along. They reminded Arya of her and Sansa in that regard. Arya didn’t think he’d be happy with her making out with him. But his blue eyes were curious and almost a little hopeful. Arya felt compelled to confess why she had truly kissed Edric Storm. “I thought he was you.”

Gendry nodded.

“That’s what Edric said.” Gendry took a sip of his coffee. “You were so shitfaced,” he added, casually. Arya could tell he was trying to play it off for her benefit. He wasn’t going to hold her to something she had done while under the influence of alcohol. Arya bit her lip. I could get out of this now, she thought. He doesn’t have to know. But that was the cowards choice. Arya was braver than that.

“I was,” Arya started. She rose from her seat to stand next to Gendry. He was looking up at her now. She pushed his hair out of his eyes and he took a shaky breath. “But…I wanted to kiss you. I mean I always want to kiss you even when I’m not drunk.”

“I wanna kiss you too,” he confessed.

Gendry pulled Arya down onto his lap and Arya wrapped her arms around his neck. They didn’t kiss for a long moment. Gendry rubbed circles on Arya’s back while Arya studied his face. She wanted to get a good look at it. She ran her fingers over his jaw and across cheeks and brows and down the curve of his ears.

“Gendry…” she whispered.

“Yeah. It’s me,” he chucked softly. She moved her lips to his and he met her eagerly. They kissed slow at first. Their lips touching softly and tenderly. This was their first kiss after all. One of Gendry’s hands moved to her hair. He ran his fingers through the strands. The other slipped under her shirt and caressed her skin making Arya shiver. She clutched his shoulders. It didn’t take long before their grew harder and more insistent. Arya gasped as Gendry’s tongue touched her lips. She felt warm all over.

They only broke apart when a loud scream tore through the kitchen. Barra was standing in the kitchen doorway with a doll in her hand and a grin on her face.

“You are kissing!” she shouted. Arya jumped off Gendry’s lap while he quickly adjusted his pants with a quiet groan. “Are you in love? Are you going to get married? Will Arya come live with us?”

Barra continued to babble happily. Arya and Gendry shared a smile.

“I guess my sisters know what they’re talking about,” he admitted to her with a laugh.

#gendrya #arya x gendry #gendrya positivity #alarra-stark #ask #gendrie fic #this was a blast to write lol so thanks alarra-stark

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buckybarnesss · 5 years

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i find it so sad that so many people are enthuastic about arya’s embracement of death and going off on what is essentially a suicide mission with the hound. The hound who has also become represenative of arya’s inner darkness, depression, self-isolation and coldness. and that it’s done in the name of “not a lady” when most miss the point and depth of that line in the first place and instead see it as some “not like other girls” bullshit. while reducing her history and relationship with gendy to “lol he got friendzoned” and “oop a baratheon getting rejected by a stark girl just like his dad lol” instead of remembering seasons 1-3 where gendry was her truest friend and the one she trusted beyond everyone when she was on the run after her father was unjustly murdered. that gendry was safety for her and she offered to be his family only for that to be taken from her. and that him being taken traumatized her to the point where she added the people who took him/sold him to her coping mechinism of a death list. that her seperation from him marked the point where arya began to seperate from her own identity and humanity. the sheer joke and sometimes outright denial people have made of arya’s feelings for gendry is sad. arya is a character very centered on family. she wants a pack of her own.

#my blog #arya stark #gendrya #me being sad about a stark #news at 11 #i'm frustrated and anxious about the upcoming episode #and as positive as am about them being endgame #i am loathe of the reduction of their relationship to a joke #and a prop for faux feminism #game of thrones spoilers #got

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ninaahelvar · 4 years

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Chivalry Fell On Its Sword (16/23)

Summary: All Arya wanted so to feel normal and go outside of the damn castle. Now, through a series of unfortunate, she’s stuck with a bodyguard that she accidentally flirted with: Gendry Waters.

AO3

A/N: yeah....i didn't edit this. what of it. (edits will come in the morning) PLEASE ENJOY!

“Gendry,” The queen said, offering Gendry a seat across from her in her private study. He was nervous when he called her in - all he wanted to do was talk with Arya but was pulled away when she answered the door.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted, sitting down. “I have to be honest, I wasn’t expecting to see you. You haven’t exactly been the most welcoming person to me,” he explained, though when she looked at him with a stern gaze, he suspected that he may have said too much.

“I’m not the most welcoming person to anyone. I’ve found that distance keeps me safe. The only person I’ve ever truly opened up to is my husband,” she said, reaching over to the coffee table between them, and picking up a cup of what he assumed was tea. Taking a sip, she continued what she was saying, “but now, I feel as though I must open up to you.”

“To me?” he said with a furrow in his brow. “I don’t think that’s necessary, your majesty,” he chuckled, readying for the night to be finished and he could leave.

“For this conversation, and this conversation only, refer to me as Catelyn. I want us both to be honest,” she said, and Gendry swallowed.

“Alright,” he said with a nod.

“Tea?” she asked, gesturing to the teapot that rested nearby.

“Sure,” he replied, though he were still unsure this was all happening. Catelyn poured him a cup and slid it over to him.

“Arya and I don’t get on that much, I suspect you’ve known that,” she explained, to which Gendry shook his head.

“I wouldn’t say that, your majesty,” he replied, to which she looked at him with a frown. “Catelyn,” he corrected.

“Then what would you say?” she asked.

“I’d say she’s so willing to make you proud, but can’t measure up to you. She’s scared you won’t love her,” he replied, clearing his throat as he spoke words meant to be from someone else. He knew Arya well enough to know what she thought of her mother - though fear she instilled in most people, Arya didn’t ever think she’d be one. Until she was smothered by her mother and it became clear that disappointing her was the last thing she wanted to do.

“I love that girl with all my heart. She’s everything to me,” she said, clearing her throat as he voice got choked up, “all my children are. I know she’s Ned’s favourite. She looks like his sister,” she said, to that Gendy didn’t know. He knew that Ned loved Arya unlike the others, but he didn’t know what Arya truly meant to the patriarch. “But Arya has greatness in her. I just want her to use it,” she finished, sipping at her tea again. Gendry reached for his own, sipping at it in case she looked at him with that scowl again. Gods, even if he wasn’t afraid of people, Catelyn had a way about her that made him feel like he was about to be shot.

“She is,” he agreed.

“She started to. When you were with her,” she commended, “I may have been blind to your love, but I should have seen it. Arya lit up when you were around. You pushed her to be better. To be her own warrior, like she’s always wanted.”

“Why am I here, your -” he stopped as she glared at him again, “Catelyn, why was I called here, really? Because I know it isn’t to talk about my wanting to change details.”

“Please stop waiting.” It was a direction that Gendry wasn’t allowed to disobey. The stern gaze she held him in was enough to tell him what he needed to do - he needed to stop being a fool, and follow what he should have from the beginning - his heart. “I love her, and seeing how she’s changed, it breaks my heart. And she loves you. She’s so stubborn, like me. We build walls to keep those that would hurt us out,” she said with a sigh as she looked out the window, as though it were hard to even admit - or maybe a memory was too hard. Either way, it took her a minute to compose herself. “I don’t want her to have walls,” she said, turning back to him, eyes sadder than a few moments ago.

“Your majesty, I love your daughter, I do. But wouldn’t it better for her to fit with any of the matches that you found for her?” he asked, clearing his throat, trying to read the queen. To that, she shrugged.

“It would make the world easier, but that’s not the world. That’s not Arya’s heart. I have a profound respect for you, even if you don’t see me showing it to you. I hope that in the future, I will get more opportunities to show you that.” It was a matter of fact, she was willing to open up, tell him the truth, even though she seemed uncomfortable to say it. Like she said, walls are kept up to protect the heart - exposing it meant there was a possibility of attack. “You would make her the happiest woman in the world. And me, the happiest mother,” she said, a smile forming before behind hidden by her cup.

“Thank you,” Gendry said with a nod, not sure what else to say. As the queen took her final sip, she put it down and reclined back in her chair.

“Now, I’ll tell you the simplest way to get back into a stubborn heart,” she said, a rise in her chin, as though the confidence she had lacked before had now come up without restraint.

“What?”

“You really think Ned and I had the smoothest sailings? Like I said, she and I are alike,” she scoffed, and Gendry leaned forward, waiting for the advice, “tell her everything.”

“Excuse me?” he replied.

“Every burden your heart has had to bear, why it had to shatter, why you feel the way you do. Give her every part of yourself, even if you’re frightened that she’ll turn away. She wants to see your walls go down too,” she explained, as though she were recalling something that helped her in the past. The kindness in her eyes, the sincerity, it made Gendry feel welcomed into a part of a person that had closed off most people. It was hard, and he understood, so he gave her a nod, swallowing the lump in his throat from what she showed.

“Thank you,” he replied. Then, as she reached for her cup, she gestured for him to leave.

“You’re being moved to Robb’s detail for a short time. Until everything is settled, I think it’ll be best. Robb and Arya don’t see each other a lot, so it works in your favour,” she said, sipping her tea, smiling to him.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Gendry said, bowing as he got up to leave. As he turned, the queen cleared her throat, which made him turn.

“I quite like being called Catelyn. That’s why I asked,” she said, and shrugged to his questionable look. “I still hold authority even without my title,”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Catelyn,” he smiled back, and for a moment, it seemed like she had enjoyed the way he said her name.

When he left, he had every intention to tell Arya what was going on, but when he was met with Ned Dayne kissing her, something built up in his chest so fast, he closed himself down. It took him a lot of alcohol to buck up the courage to go back and tell Arya everything.

He wondered if Catelyn ever had to resort to such things, but that was a drunken thought as he banged on Arya’s door at two in the morning.

*~*~*

It had been two days since Gendry had stumbled to her room late at night, and stayed with her until morning. Neither of them regretted the night, but Gendry didn’t handle his hangover well. Especially when Arya dragged him to her parents, announcing to them that she was dating him again. What she wasn’t entirely expecting was her parents colliding into an embrace and dragging Gendry into hugs that he took very awkwardly.

After her parents explained they were happy, then came the awkward part. Well, in Arya’s opinion, it was awkward to admit that her boyfriend was technically a Baratheon, but a bastard one that had never met his father. What she wasn’t expecting was her father to not react at all - his best friend had fathered a bastard, but it wasn’t a surprise. Really, it wasn’t a surprise from what Arya knew of the man, but to be her boyfriend, she was a little shocked on that note. Catelyn, on the other hand did react, though not the way Arya expected. Catelyn said that the information wouldn’t come out, that the family would protect Gendry’s privacy in the matter and no one would ever think Gendry couldn’t fit in with the image of the royal family, regardless of their home life.

After that, Arya took Gendry back to her room where she got him to lie down. He looked sick for most of the meeting, as though at any second he’d keel over. He wasn’t sick or anything, just hungover and needed some rest. Taking care of him, spending time casually made Arya feel wanted and needed. And she knew, the minute he could, he’d repay her tenfold. He just loved her. Arya loved feeling loved.

When Gendry had to go home after his shift, Arya held onto his hand as long as she could, trying to keep them together as long as possible. Instead, Gendry kissed her, dragging her up onto her toes with his hands on her cheeks to guide her to him. With her breath stolen, she was dazed to his wandering off. She hated that he bested her, but loved the smile he held when he looked back at her. He felt loved too.

The day following, Sansa came crashing into Arya’s room after breakfast. It was briefly mentioned that the pair were back together, and even after her siblings badgered her with questions, she remained tightlipped and went back to her room to go over some notes she needed for a public appearance for her organisations first public event. It was nerve wracking, but knowing Gendry would support her was enough.

“I’m so glad you guys are back together!” Sansa screamed, pushing Arya back into the bed and wrapping her entire body around Arya. All of Arya’s notes were scattered off her bed, and

“Can you shut up? Gendry is at the door,” Arya said, pulling herself up to see Gendry grinning at the edge of the door.

“And I can hear you,” he shouted into the room and Arya collapsed into the bed, holding her hands over her face, “plus I’m used to it by now, can I come in?”

“Yes,” Arya called, to which Gendry came in, closing the door behind him. He walked in, sitting at the edge of the bed, watching as Sansa hugged at Arya’s side, kicking at Gendry’s thigh - though he didn’t seem to mind. “I’m gonna miss you around all the time,” Arya confessed, pouting as she was unable to move at that moment. She would have found her place in his arms as many times she could, just to make sure it was all real.

“Just hang around Robb all the time,” Gendry smirked, and Arya wriggled out of her sister’s embrace, colliding with Gendry, who held her in his lap comfortably.

“You two are gross,” Sansa groaned.

“Hey, you wanted this, you pay the price,” Gendry said and Arya cackled, looking at Sansa’s face, trying her hardest to be mad at his answer, but she did in fact push for this to be their norm. Instead, she smiled and shook her head.

For most of the day, Arya went around organising things with a few different staffers, making sure that everything in two weeks time would run smoothly. It would also be the same time that Gendry would no longer be on Arya’s detail, so she found herself glancing over to him, making sure he was still there - which he was, but she didn’t understand why she was so scared. That he’d leave, that’d he’d disappear right under her nose. It wasn’t fair to him after they’d sorted things out to still feel like she couldn’t trust him.

At lunch, she told him as much. Gendry wasn’t offended, but rather said that she needed to feel comfortable around him. He wasn’t going to leave her willingly, so she didn’t need to worry. Time was a factor in all of this mess, and she’d trust him not to leave again. But time would be the thing that told them as much.

Every time they talked, Arya found herself falling more in love with him - that there was an openness to him that there wasn’t before he came to her door drunk as hell. Gendry told her everything, even when he didn’t have to, but he was just being honest, and seeing him unguarded and unashamed of showing himself off to Arya made her feel special.

He left the same way he had the day before, kissing her and making her feel hazy that she couldn’t keep him around. She reasoned that one day, she’d overcome the way he made her feel, that she’d trap him into staying for a little while longer. Yet, there was another part of her that craved the feeling to never leave, to constantly fall for him regardless of how he kissed her - she’d always feel her heart leap and she couldn’t catch up with him.

As afternoon snuck in, Arya felt the urge to do something she hadn’t done since she was eighteen. From the depths of her closest, she found the blonde hair that had been hidden under shoes and got everything together. With the bralette wrapped in straps with a crisscross against her chest, emphasising her cleavage - even the little that it was. Over it she wore a flannel, half red and half white, the two competing flannels sewn together one night by Sansa. Her sister had the matching piece. Arya’s outfit was paired with black jeans and boots, and she was almost ready. With round glasses on, she fixed her hair beneath the blonde wig and fixed herself into a presentable person.

When she was younger, she thought the best way to sneak out of the palace was to be someone completely different. In the end, she used it only a few times before she realised she just had to escape her security well enough to make it into town. With hundreds of different routes through the palace, she made it impossible to follow her.

Heading into town, she was unrecognised by those that passed her by, and she easily made it to the apartment that held memories that no one but the two of them could touch. Knocking a fanciful beat, Arya stood with her hands behind her back. When once she tried to run away from him, she now ran to him.

Gendry opened the door and blinked, as though he had to take her in a few extra seconds to make sure it was really her. Arya beamed back.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked, opening the door up wider and guiding her inside. Gendry seemed relaxed, in sweatpants and a tank that had been worn out from use. Seeing him like that often made Arya’s heart flutter - a way that no suit could do. With him every day in a suit, seeing a relaxed Gendry was her favourite version of him.

“Wanted to hang out, and knew if I texted you would have told me to stay home,” she explained, throwing her things on his kitchen counter and looking back at him. He grinned as he walked over to her. As he stood a foot away from her, his hands graced up to her cheeks before they gently drifted to her hair, combing back the wig and laying it perfectly on the counter.

“You have a weird fascination with my apartment,” Gendry grinned as he leaned down to her. His lips grazed her own and Arya felt herself lose her breath, as though he had intended to take it. The kiss he laid there was brief, but allowed Arya a moment to recover.

“It feels like a home,” she confessed.

“Well don’t get too attached,” he scoffed.

“What? Why?” she asked.

“I’m moving,” he said, going to his fridge and taking out a beer. Arya frowned, rounding the bench and not allowing him space. He was taken back by how quick she moved, but her heart was hammering for an answer.

“W-what? I thought we were passed all this and you said you -”

Gendry’s eyes went wide and put his beer down, holding onto her shoulders. “Ah! Don’t get worked up. I’m moving to a house closer to the palace. It’s cheap, and Pod said he’d move in with me to help for it, so I’m moving to be closer to you,” he explained, and Arya felt her face get hot - embarrassment washing over her.

“Oh,” she said, “you’re kinda clingy,” she tried to play it off.

“Says you,” Gendry said, nose nudging against hers. She hated that it worked to calm her down.

“Yes, says me. Your beautiful, royal girlfriend,” she said, leaning against the counter, trying to seem as seductive as possible. She wasn’t sure if it’d work after her whole freak out.

“That’s a first for you. Embracing the royalty thing,” he said, hands either side of her on the bench, cornering her in her spot. She felt the air shift, heat fuelling their interaction more than it should have.

“You should see me in a tiara,” she said, voice low, dripping with allure. She begged for him to fall for it. He didn’t, as he scoffed and moved off from the bench, taking his beer, and heading back to the rest of his living room.

“Oh please, like you’d allow your family to force one on you,” he reminded. He was right, but she couldn’t let him know that.

“You’d be surprised, I can be very girly when I have someone to impress,” she said, following after him, biting at her lip, wondering if he’d turn around.

“I feel like you’re reaching for something here,” he glanced over his shoulder, crackling

“A kiss, mostly,” she said, smiling. Gendry turned, putting the beer down on the coffee table, hands going into his pockets.

“Oh I know, you usually have to reach for that. Short ass.”

“Ok, not my fault you’re practically a giant,” Arya retailated, her chest heaving as she tried to calm the storm of lust that was filling her body. It was no use when Gendry gave her that cocky look, like that day they first met - major cunt was coming out to play and she almost hoped he stayed.

“I think you’re the one that’s stunted. I mean, I’m not even that tall. Most people are taller than I am.” He cracked a smirk and Arya was gone.

He should have known what teasing would get him. Or maybe that was why he did it. Arya ran into him, pulling hard on the back of his neck to tug him down and have their mouths meet. It was hard, and mostly teeth, but it softened when Gendry guided Arya up into his arms. Their heat fuelled their encounter and their skin burned as they touched, leaving streaks of wonderful bliss in their bodies.

Gendry crashed them to the couch, dragging her flannel from her arms as he kissed the length of her body. He tasted her for what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes. Either way, Arya became impatient and dragged him back to her, kissing him as she fumbled with her belt and Gendry stripped himself out of his clothes.

As their clothes fell around his apartment living room, Arya back in her favourite place, sitting upon his lap and taking strides like it was a place made for her - she felt perfect. Her world had rounded to a point where she only cared about being with the man that gasped every time she sank down back into his lap. He lingered kisses on her collar as though they were his last, but every time he kissed her, he made it clear that he would never stop kissing her for as long as he lived.

Arya didn’t care how long they lasted, she just wanted to be with him. When she looked at Gendry, his features tight with a coming release, she cupped his cheek. Watching how he softened, allowing himself to fall apart with his eyes focused on her before he sighed, whispering into her skin like she were a miracle he had to continue to pray for. Arya fell in love with him every time he looked at her - and she knew, every time their eyes met, Gendry was feeling the same.

Gendry had placed a throw blanket over their bodies as they laid on the floor, the tv playing some show that Arya didn’t pay attention to. She had drifted in and out of sleep, adoring the beating heart that lay beneath her ear, and the sensation of her boyfriend breathing was enough to settle any fears that lay within her. She hadn’t realised what time it was until Gendry’s finger poked in her cheek.

“Hey, we should get you back to the palace,” he said, voice harsh as though he had just woken up himself. Arya looked around, finding a clock that read 11:45pm. Arya fell back against his chest.

“Ugh,” Arya groaned, holding him closer, “I don’t wanna.”

“Babe, come on, we can’t have you out this late,” he whispered, trying to shift out of her grasp. Instead, Arya pulled on him again, her chin on his chest and looking up at him.

“I love you,” she said, smile on her face. Gendry laughed, his nose nudging against hers, heart fluttering to a comfort.

“Yeah, I love you too, but I’m still not letting you stay here to spite your mother,” he said, finally managing to move around and grab his clothes. Arya clutched at the throw, pulling it to her chest as she watched him extend to get her things.

“Which reminds me, what did my mother say to you that night Ned Dayne came to my room?” she asked, which made Gendry’s attention whip back to her. He had a pink blush running over his cheeks.

“We don’t need to -”

“I’ll go home if you tell me,” she bargained. Gendry savoured the query, taking a few moments before he sighed.

“How about I’ll walk you back,” he asked back, pulling his sweatpants on as he went to gather up her things.

“Ok?” she replied before Gendry asked if she wanted to burrow warmer clothes for the night. They changed into comfortable clothes, rugging up with Arya’s wig coming back on. Gendry pulled a scarf around her shoulders, making sure she was cozy as they walked arm in arm along the sidewalk. There was something so special about it - it would be natural for any ordinary couple to do, to take care of one another even if it were just to dress for the weather. But still, everything about Arya’s life wasn’t ordinary. Gendry gave her the simplicity of normalcy, though she doubted he realised he did it.

“So, why are we walking back to the palace and not having you drive me?” she asked, head resting on his shoulder. Gendry huff, a plume of frosted air billowed from his nose.

“Your mum cares a lot about you,” he replied, and Arya looked up at him with a curious look.

“Okay? But that still doesn’t explain why she wanted to speak with you,” she said, tugging on his arm a little. He chuckled to himself as he looked back at her.

“I don’t feel right talking about this without her here. I have to say, she’s a very frightening woman, I see where you get it from.”

“You’re avoiding the subject,” she reminded him.

He stopped, looking back at her, as though it were sensitive to breach the topic. Gendry sighed before he spoke. “We talked about you. About us.” They continued to walk but Arya wanted to hash this out in one spot, so it didn’t feel like they were running away from another conversation.

“What did she say, I swear to -”

“She wanted me to make things right,” he interrupted, and Arya’s brow knit. She hadn’t expected him to say that. What happened that night that he wouldn’t say. He seemed stiff, as though something were holding him back.

“What? What did she say?”

“I won’t tell you that,” he replied, jaw set tight.

“Why?”

Gendry stopped again, worry in his eyes. “Arya, I love you. I won’t lie to you, but that was something your mother…” he stopped, and even Arya realised the mistake. Whatever happened that night made him comfortable enough to not refer to her by her title. Part of it made Arya scared. The other felt proud that he were as welcome as any other person. “ - the queen confided in me. She wanted it to be between she and I. I want to respect that if I’m going to stay in your life,” he explained, and Arya held her tongue. She had to trust him on this, everything in her told her as much.

“I understand.”

Gendry took hold of her hand, fingers lacing with her own, and all she wanted to do at that moment was kiss him. He had a way of making everything normal feel like an extra ounce of magic, that it were so much more special than just being a normal action. They continued to walk, like any other couple in the middle of the night. “You can talk to her, you know,” he said, bringing her hand up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You could have told her, like you told your dad. She loves you in a way that your dad doesn’t,” he said, a confidence in his words that she didn’t have. She didn’t understand what happened in their conversation, but it was enough that gave Gendry sympathy for her mother.

“I know that, but...she’s hard to get to know.”

“You’d be surprised how similar you both are,” he smiled. Arya tugged at his hand, making him look down at her.

“Are you being mean?”

“No? Of course not. I’m just telling you, you don’t have to be afraid of her when you both have the same hearts,” he said, “how do you think I got the courage to talk to you that night?”

“A bottle of whiskey?” she scoffed.

“And two mothers punching me in the head for being an idiot,” he replied, shaking his head with a smile pressed to his lips.

“Why do you have to say the sweetest shit when we’re out in public?” she groaned, head leaning against his shoulder once more.

“Cause it give you a reason to kiss me extra hard when I leave to go home,” he joked, and Arya pouted, knocking her hip into his.

“I’m going to kick you first.”

“I’m sure the kiss will make up for any pain,” he said, and Arya scoffed. They looked at each other with joy, something that Arya was long since gone between them. Everything felt like it was falling back into place, and that breaking the pair apart would be impossible now.

Arya made good on her promise to kick him, her foot making impact with Gendry’s backside. It wasn’t anything hard - barely a lovetap, but the minute he reacted, Arya shot up into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him with every ounce she could. Gendry was right - he won a kiss that was extra hard for being so sweet and she wasn’t able to show it in the moment. Ever since getting back together, Gendry made it a priority to say exactly what he wanted - to say the sappy shit that Arya lied about hating. A part of her loved it - it meant she was like every other girl, to be loved without hesitation, and fully to the point where lines like that worked. Gendry loved her, told her so, and made sure she felt it all.

Arya never thought she’d feel loved like that. Ever.

But Gendry made it so easy. He smiled, and kissed, and held her like she deserved so much more than he was giving. In reality, it was always the perfect amount for her. They crashed into a wall, hiding themselves from prying eyes for a brief moment, only to be interrupted by a sharp clearing of a throat close by. They shot apart, wiping their lips clean as they laughed to themselves. At the bottom of the stairs stood the queen, her arms folded, and Arya felt a blush run over her cheeks. She knew most of her siblings had been caught in a similar situation, but it was never something that had happened to Arya. It felt like she were experiencing things as she should.

“Goodnight, Gendry.” The Queen was stern and Gendry bowed to her, briefly stealing another kiss from Arya before he bowed to the queen once more.

“Goodnight, your majesty,” he said, backing away from her.

“You’re being polite again,” she called out. Gendry stopped, laughing as he combed a hand through his hair.

“Yes, sorry, Catelyn,” he said, and Arya nearly gasped, looking back at her mother with shock. To her surprise, the queen smirked, shaking her head at his words.

“Still the queen, bodyguard!” she bellowed and Arya stood in shock for a few more moments before she finally walked over to her mother. Arya shifted out of her wig and looked to her mother.

“What was that all about?”

“What?”

“Ok, you’re being weird now,” she replied to her mother’s coy nature.

“Invite him to dinner,” she said in return, making Arya confused.

“What?”

“Invite Gendry to family dinner tomorrow night,” she said, but it was not lost on Arya that the next day would be Arya and Gendry’s last day as protector and protectee. “I would like for him to be a part of family events from now on. In private or public, however you wish,” Catelyn replied, smiling before she pulled her robe in tighter, tucking herself together before she went to go up the stairs once more.

“Thank you, mum,” Arya said. Catelyn stopped, turning to her daughter.

“Always, sweetheart. Always,” she said, smile sweet and wonderful.

“Can we have lunch tomorrow? I want to talk to you,” Arya called out, her mother the one now confused out of the pair.

“About what, darling?”

“My life, if that isn’t too inconvientant?” Arya questioned. Like Gendry said, Arya should have trusted her mother the same way she trusted her dad. She knew there was still a ways to go between them, but if what Gendry said was true, that she fought for the two of them to be together, she should have trusted that her mother always had her best interests at heart.

“Of course not, I’d love to,” Catelyn said, smiling so wide, it was such a foreign look that Arya had never seen her mother make. It was a type of joy that was reserved for her father, not for Arya, and it felt like a blessing to get it.

The pair walked up the stairs together, planning their lunch for the following day, perfectly at peace with one another. It felt right, to be in such a radiant glow, and for a moment, she wondered if she and her mother shared the same light, but they were so enamoured with their own to see how brightly the other shined.

The next day came in, and where Arya thought she’d get to spend the day with her boyfriend for whatever time she could, he was whisked away to run down his new position. They were sure he’d switch back as soon as a few of Robb’s different press tours were over with, but it still hurt that she didn’t get to spend more time with him. Instead, Arya dressed for her lunch with her mother, held in the queen’s quarters, her own formal dining area in the palace, one that Arya had only been in a few times before.

Their lunch went smoothly, a few jokes passed between them to Arya’s surprise. They were able to speak of Arya’s life, how she felt overwhelmed about most things, especially with the organisations and being the face of those things. Also how she felt about Gendry, from start to finish, she was honest with her mother about how she felt. She left out the night they got together...or the night before. It would have stunted the conversation, she could tell.

After that, her mother told her about the things she was working on. It was honest and rather funny to find that her mother didn’t particularly like doing certain royal activities but was forced to in order to seem like a giving queen. She was rather shy, she only warmed to certain people, Catelyn confessed, but she found that opening herself up more was feeling a lot more freeing than she once anticipated.

After that, Arya went to her room, going over notes that were sent to her for a meeting she had with a few different organisation to form the gym or gym programs that would help what Arya was aiming to do. It was hard to sift through it all, as Arya felt like she was going cross-eyed, but she eventually found her way to getting through them and sending back her own notes to all parties. When she was done, it was late afternoon and everyone was running about, getting ready for dinner that would soon be put on the table.

Arya got a text from Gendry and she raced down the stairs, finding him at the bottom in a casual dress outfit, like he were taking Arya into town. He looked nice, but not at all too formal for their family dinners. Which had just occurred to Arya that she never spoke to him about it. As she reached him, pressing a kiss to his lips delicately before she sighed.

“So,” she started, “you heard.”

He gave a soft shrug, taking hold of her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, and they walked slowly to the dining hall. “You dad texted me, which I didn’t realise I had your dad's number, but that’s a different conversation.” Arya laughed, holding his hand tighter.

“You look nice.”

“Thank you,” Gendry smiled, kissing at her crown. As they walked through the doors, the family had already gathered around, taking their seats and enjoying each other’s company. As the pair walked in, Gendry gripped at her hand, a slight hitch in his breath as he stood blankly for a moment.

“Hey Gendry!” Sansa greeted, bounding towards them and tugging the pair into respective hugs. Gendry smiled, though Arya could still tell he was nervous for all of this. He knew he were the main attraction to the night’s event, but it would be his first and last night in the spotlight.

“Hey everyone,” he greeted, waving politely to the family that screamed back hellos - save for the king and queen, which Arya expected. When Ned sat down at the end of the table, everyone followed. Arya sat down next to Sansa, and Gendry stood for a moment at the seat beside her.

“Sit down, dummy,” she whispered, jabbing a finger in his leg.

“Right, sorry. Used to standing when you guys are eating,” he laughed, sitting down next to her, sighing out his nerves, though when she looked at his thigh, his leg was obviously jumping. Putting a hand on his thigh, she felt him relax. As they settled, their meal was brought out, everyone leaning over each other to reach for their desired sampling.

“Welcome to the fray outsider! How does it feel to sit at a table full of pompous assholes,” Ygritte said.

“Ygritte,” Jon warned.

“Jon, look at your family for a second and tell me which of them isn’t snickering under their breaths?” Arya glanced around, seeing her siblings laughing to the side as they tried to bite into their meals.

“Is there a club for us outsider Starks? Those that join?” Gendry asked, taking a forkful of food into his mouth. He had certainly calmed down some since being around them for much longer than an introduction.

“You’re called Stark wannabes by us,” Rickon confessed over a mouthful of food. When the table went silent, he looked up and mumbled, “was I not allowed to tell him?”

“I’m guessing you and Talisa got most of this already?” Gendry laughed. Ygritte and Talisa looked to one another and shrugged back.

“Fun to finally have a lad to poke fun at. They’ve been rather sensitive about us ladies,” Talisa admitted, much to Arya’s surprise. Talisa rarely spoke ill or even so much as spoke at family dinners. Now, she seemed like once she was part of the family, she was beautifully a Stark.

“I’m used to dating her. Family can’t be much worse,” Gendry said, to which some of her siblings snickered.

“I’d say we’re only getting started, but Arya added you straight to the group chats, so you know how brutal we are,” Sansa regarded.

“Wait, he got added before he started dating Arya?! What the fuck Jon!”

“Can we please not swear at the table,” Catelyn suddenly interrupted before she shook her head, as though she remembered herself, “sorry. Forgot you weren’t my kids. You can keep swearing,” she said, taking a small piece of her meal.

“Thanks, your majesty,” Ygritte replied.

“Ygritte! You’re about to become a daughter-in-law. You’re allowed to bloody well call me Catelyn.”

“The queen going off tonight!” Ygritte said with a beaming voice, elbowing Jon in the side, who simply blushed at all of it. He really did hate how wild the family got sometimes.

“Someone has put a little extra something in mum’s tea,” Bran said as he reached for his drink.

“It was me. You are all insufferable,” Catelyn murmured as she sipped at her tea. Everyone went silent. It took a moment before Ned snorted over his water, snickering to himself as the rest of the family remained stunned.

“Did mum just make a joke?!” Rickon howled before the table erupted in joy. Gendry grinned at Arya’s side, as though what she had promised him so long ago was now a possibility - her family was his own, in any capacity

The dinner went off without a hitch, everyone talked and no one was excluded. It felt like a perfect family, all found within each other, even those who had no blood between them. Arya was in her twenties, and it was truly one of the first times where she felt as though she belonged in her family. Sure, she got along with them, and enjoyed spending all her time with them, but it didn’t feel like family. Until Gendry. It felt whole, as though before, there was always a missing piece that she could never quite place.

Dinner ended, and Gendry walked Arya back to her room. They were slow, as though to drag out the last remaining parts of their time together. It wasn’t until they reached her door that they had a chance to freeze their time together. It still felt all for naught. Instead, Arya held onto his hand, looking up at him with a pout, trying not to feel as sad as she looked, but that too was for nothing.

“I don’t want this to be the last night you’re my bodyguard,” she admitted. Gendry laughed, tucking hair behind her ear.

“I’ll always be yours,” he reminded.

“Ew, why do you make it sound so gross,” Arya said, smiling even though she wanted to act tough.

“Ok, I’m leaving,” Gendry said, jokingly pulling away. Arya tugged him back, making sure he stayed where he was. Arya walked backwards into her room, dragging Gendry with her.

“Nope. You’re mine. I get to keep you however long I want,” she said. Gendry’s eyes went dark, and Arya knew exactly what it meant.

“How do you want me?” he asked, voice low. It ripped through her, lust feeling like it was pouring from every part of her. Gendry shut the door behind him.

“Now Gendry, that sounds like something bad,” she whispered.

“Then you’re getting the right idea,” he smirked, leaning over her and kissing her quickly. He scooped her into his arms as though she were weightless. She curled her legs around his hips, rising to allow their bodies to form against the other.

They fell around her room, stripping bare, colliding with furniture as they stumbled to the bed. The rest of their night together was spent finding each other in bliss. They found their bodies in sync as they often did in her bed - rolling with one another as they let each dominant side of each other win out. Arya could sit upon his lap, take stride to reach her end, Gendry could hold her hips as he thrust above her. They both came undone and found comfort in her bed as they had done so many times before.

Arya was laid at his side, holding onto him like she were to hold him for the last time. It wouldn’t be, but every time she left his side, she felt an absence from herself - as though a part of her was missing, split into him to create who they were. She carried a part of him, as he carried a part of her. It would remain that way until they were together, entangled in sheets.

As she watched him sleep, curling himself around her, his arms holding her like a vice, not allowing her an inch to escape, she couldn’t help but love the feeling. Trapped in his embrace, she didn’t want him any other. They were their own selves, hidden from sight, and Arya loved that. She’d always love that, the secret nature of their love - not that no one knew, but no one could understand the love they shared for one another, even if they knew the pair were together.

“Stop staring, would ya. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, surprising her. She thought he was asleep.

“You say that, but you left after a night like this,” she reminded him. Gendry peeked through one eye to look at her.

“You’d have to kill me to get me away from you again,” he said, voice groggy, his arms tiring around her.

“You really think you’re going to stay with me for the rest of your life?” she asked with a slight giggle to her words.

“If the Gods allow it, oh you bet your ass,” he said confidently. Arya smiling, tucking herself in further into his embrace.

“I love you,” she said, finally resting her eyes.

“Love you too. Now go to sleep,” he said, though she needed little prompting.

*~*~*

Since Gendry had started with Robb, two weeks after the dinner, Gendry had been welcomed fairly easily by the other members of his team. He had spent little time with the prince himself, but Gendry expected as much.

As for that day, it was a special event, something to do with kingdom communication that was being announced throughout the seven kingdoms. Gendry didn’t quite care about them, but it meant a bigger role for him to play when the prince was on stage.

Fixing up his tie, the prince came out of his bathroom. He was wearing a navy suit, and it certainly complimented his appearance for the day.

“Your Highness. Good morning,” Gendry greeted. Robb looked over to Gendry and he gently smiled.

“I’m glad you’re on my team today,” Robb said, though because he hadn’t spent much time with the prince, gendry wasn’t sure how truth his statement was.

“I serve at the pleasure of your highness,” Gendry said, standing at the door and his hands going behind his back. Robb slowly turned to him, a scowl of disgust running over his face.

“God I hope you don’t say that to my sister,” he said, and Gendry winced.

“I hope you don’t mind if I’m frank here,” he said, clearing his throat, “but fuck, that is absolutely disgusting to even think about.”

“So you drew a line?” he asked, fixing the cufflink back into place.

“If I can remain frank with you,”

“Sure Frank,” Robb said with a grin. He was definitely going to be a dad one day cause the jokes were on par.

“Yes. I know when duty outweighs the heart. I respect the crown.”

“You didn’t when you started dating my sister,” Robb reminded. Gendry frowned.

“Are you mad at me?”

“I’m mad she didn’t tell us, and if I’m taking that out on you, I’m sorry,” he said, giving a stiff nod to her. “I also don’t like the fact that you two stole the light of my wedding, but whatever,” he said under his breath and Gendry scoffed.

“Arya was right,” he said with a laugh. “You love the sound of your own voice.”

“I’m your future king, Gendry,” Robb warned.

“I’m from the South, your highness, you sure as hell aren’t my king,” he said back confidently. To that, Robb laughed, chuckling as he shook his head.

“I’m just giving you a hard time cause I’m the older brother. Nothing more. I have nothing against you or Arya, and definitely not your relationship. I wish you two all the happiness,” he said.

“Thank you, your highness,” Gendry replied, trying not to nod like an idiot.

“Seeing as how you’re dating my sister, you can probably call me Robb,” he said with a soft shrug.

“Probably?” Gendry scoffed.

“It’s still weird, please just let me get used to it,” Robb replied.

“That’s fine.”

With one smile, Robb was off and Gendry was following behind. Robb was in his own world, getting texts that he needed to reply to, as well as people coming up to him to confirm what was going on. It was clear that he had a lot on his plate, and was going to be used to the schedule as the future king.

“My wife keeps complaining about this grey streak in my bloody hair,” Robb said suddenly over his shoulder. Gendry realised Robb was talking to him, as Jon was at the end of the hall waiting for them.

“I’m not a stylist or anything, your highness, but from what I’ve seen on the internet, the people really love the streak,” Gendry said.

“You mean women,” Robb corrected.

“Yes. Daddy material right there,” Gendry shrugged to which Robb stopped, cackling hard, holding his side.

“Why do you have to say things like that?” he said, clearing his throat and finally they made it to Jon, who informed them both on the day’s schedule and what Gendry needed to know about the venue.

It was an open event, for as many spectators to see as possible. They had nearly all security pulled, with the family coming as well to keep everyone secure at the same time at the event. Gendry needed to be Robb’s body man to be able to protect him as Jon needed to observe the entire event for any eventuality.

When they arrived, Gendry didn’t realise how open space Jon meant it to be. It was huge with hundred, if not thousands, of people scattered around. It didn’t allow any room for someone to study every person like a smaller venue could have. It was open air, which meant open opportunity from every conceivable angle.

Anything could go wrong, they were walking into a pit, readying for anything to come and attack. There were so many people, so many enemies, that any of the people in the crowd could be it. Ordinary didn’t mean safe - where normalcy was the binary, the outlier was anyone. There was always a way to tell where someone was feigning it compared to others, that they suddenly were out of place in a crowd. But in a crowd that huge, it was as thought finding a needle in a haystack.

Even as they walked towards the podium which Robb was meant to speak at, Gendry felt that there was something he was missing. The minute he got there, Gendry felt as though there was something out of place. Everything felt perfect, there was a right amount of security around, there was everything in place. The only thing he could work out was the crowd.

It was chaotic, with too many people to discern amongst the crowd. Picking one out was going to be impossible. Robb took to the centre of the stage, speaking into the microphone. Gendry stood close by, but he just felt like he needed to find what was bothering him. There was no way to tell, but all he could do was wait.

Robb continued on, the crowd standing in settled silence. Yet, it wasn’t. There was something…

There was someone...

“Something’s wrong,” he whispered to himself. Sam at his side scoffed.

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know, I just…” he started, until he saw the gaze of a man in the crowd. It was determined, angry. And he was charging the stage. “Your Highness!” Gendry shouted, getting to the prince’s side, and the gun came out.

“Down with the seven kingdoms!” The man yelled. Three pops went off quickly. And the crowd scattered, screams erupting as people scrambled for safety. Gendry saw Beric tackle the guy to the ground.

Gendry had pushed the prince to the side. The prince fell into Jon’s grasp as Gendry was knocked to the ground. The sound had come and gone by the time Gendry hit the floor. Everything came far slower than he realised - his mind and body acting in two different timelines. Either a second apart or a million years, he wasn’t sure.

It felt like he was punched in the chest, and then the overwhelming need to fall down. When his body started to go, he knew where the bullet had landed. He wasn’t sure the exact location, but it was painful enough to say an approximate; his chest. As he made impact with the ground, he felt the world rush. He wanted to breathe, but that proved to be a challenge. Right. Chest. That’s why.

He felt up his chest as he stared up at the sky, all he could think about was putting pressure on the pain. Being met with the wet stain on his chest, he knew he would go into shock in a moment.

“Arry,” he said, before he coughed, something wet touching his lips.

His hands were a pathetic amount of pressure he was applying, until he felt the pain radiate through his chest. His hands were moved aside, as everything in his vision started to shift, not quite able to focus where he wanted. Then, he was met with Brienne’s face, concern written into her where he could focus on her face. He watched the head of security look him over, hands pushing into the wound on his body, but even that started to feel numb.

“Gendry? Gendry, can you hear me?” He wanted to answer, but it felt like something was weighing down his chest. He knew what a gunshot felt like - he had enough to know what it felt like - what he wasn’t used to was feeling his lungs fill with blood. He couldn’t breathe, choking on the thing that gave him a pulse.

Even with people above him, searching for a sign of life, and his eyes darting between them, all he could think about was Arya.

Arya, in the morning light with white sheets surrounding her, making her look like a gift from the gods. Her hair sat at her shoulder, albeit a big messy, but he wouldn’t have her any other way. She smiled, and it welcomed him, like home.

Arya was his home, and his last thought before everything went dark.

#gendrya #gendry x arya #arya x gendry #got fic #gendrya fic #my fics #cfois #chivalry fell on its sword

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coffeexwhiskey · 5 years

Text

Home in Winterfell (Chapter 3)

Winterfell

"You're here."

Sansa has never felt so happy in years. As she watched her sister hop down the horse, she couldn’t stop herself from running towards her and wrapped Arya in a loving hold. She smelled a hint of sun and salt but the lingering smell of Arya was still there; the scent of her younger sister she never knew she’d recognize.

After all they’ve been through, their relationship had changed tremendously. Before, they would fight over the smallest of things, seeing how the other was the exact opposite of the other girl. But now, differences were thrown away as they embrace everything they have in common; hardships and loss and the name of Stark.

“I’ve missed you,” Sansa whispered, still holding Arya in her arms.

“I’ve missed you too,” the Queen in the North could hear the tremble in her sister’s voice.

Sansa felt someone walk passed her, and noticed a hand pulling on Arya’s cloak. Looking down, bright blue eyes looked up to her, a grip still on Arya’s clothing. She addressed a questioning gaze towards Arya who looked surprised that there was a tug on her cloak and worried after seeing who it was and excited, all at the same time.

Arya took the little girl’s hand that was holding on to her, “In a minute Choti,” she whispered to the girl but loud enough for Sansa to hear. Arya eyed the woman who was standing a few feet away from them and took the girl from the two sisters.

Still baffled, Sansa followed the woman and the girl with her eyes.

“The Godswood,” she heard Arya say.

Castle Black

“Are we going to sit here until the sun rises again or should we start riding back to the Freefolk?” the annoyed voice of Tormund made Jon finally blink and look away from wall, now away from his thoughts. “You’ve been gawking at that fucking wall for almost an hour. Tell me, is there a beauty that you can see that I don’t? ” Tormund added.

Jon refilled his cup with more ale and finished it in one go making his head hurt more.

As he filled his cup again he said, “We’re going to Winterfell. We’re going to my sisters.”

And after finishing the jug of ale, Jon along with Tormund saddled up, with Ghost closely behind and headed towards home.

Storm’s End

“When are you leaving?”

Hot Pie dropped the dough he was kneading on the counter once seeing the Lord of Storm’s End standing in the entrance of his kitchen.

“I-In three days,” he stumbled, “You scared me there.”

“Sorry,” Gendy muttered, walking closely to the baker. “What are you making?”

“Pie crust. I’ve got the dough for the bread ready too. All I have to do is bake them right before I leave,” there’s that tone of pride Gendry always hears from his friend whenever he talks about his work.

Gendry eyed the dough lined up on the other side of the kitchen. It could feed an army once it’s ready.

“Are we having a feast I didn’t know about?” he asked inquiringly.

Hot Pie chuckled before placing the freshly kneaded dough along with the others, “It’s for Arry. She liked the wolf bread I made her, do you remember?”

Gendry remembered clearly. Arya even wondered what is was. He chuckled to himself.

“Yes I do,” he answered meekly.

“And when I saw her back when I still worked for the innkeeper, she liked the pie I made. I hope you don’t mind,” peering to the Lord carefully, Hot Pie had a guilty smile on his face. He forgot to ask the Lord of Storm’s End if he could use their supplies to feed the Northmen.

Gendry laughed it off, patting his friend on the back, “That’s alright. I’m sure it’ll make her happy.”

He was about to step out of the kitchens when Hot Pie said, “You always talk about making her happy.”

The words made him stop on his tracks, his back still facing Hot Pie.

“What do you know about making her happy?” the accusing tone in Hot Pie’s voice was not missed by Lord Gendry Baratheon.

“I know enough.”

He left the kitchens and stayed in his chambers for the rest of the day.

The Godswood of Winterfell

"It's still snowing," Arya commented as she looked around her.

"Yes. It's whatever’s left of the long winter."

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you.”

“You had your reasons,” the Queen smiled understandingly.

The two sisters walked in silence as they neared the Weirwood tree.

“The girl,” it was Sansa who spoke again first. She watched as her sister sat on the root of the giant tree, still covered with a thin layer of snow.

“Is my daughter,” Arya answered simply and looked up to her, a hint of smile showing on her face as she thought of the little girl.

“How?” The Queen was confused as more questions ran through her mind, her knitted brows and rising voice making it obvious. Who’s the father? When did she even lay with a man? How long has she kept this from her? Why did she hide this from her? Is she even capable of raising a child? As far as Sansa remembered, her sister was never ladylike. To even think that she slept with a man was a very big surprise for her. And by the looks of it, the little girl was conceived years ago.

“I think we both know how to make a babe, Sansa,” Arya grinned at her.

“I know that. What I meant was-“

“It happened before we fought the dead. I had no idea that I walked into battle in King’s Landing with a babe inside of me,” Arya cut her off. “I only knew about her when I was already sailing away from Westeros. We docked in a small island called Bharata and that’s where I gave birth to Charlotte.”

“Charlotte?” Sansa repeated. A curious name but nevertheless, it fondly reminded her of their mother, Catelyn.

Arya nodded, “The woman from Bharata who helped me said it was a miracle that we survived. She was small when she came so she named her Charlotte for I was asleep for days after giving birth to her. They thought I was not going to make it.”

Horror struck the Queen at the thought of losing another sibling, but she still listened to her sister in silence.

“That woman had been to so many places and mentioned that once she visited a place where the name Charlotte meant petite and free. So I thought it was perfect and didn’t change it,” Arya sighed and continued, “I’ve been travelling with a child the whole time and I’m grateful that the Northmen with me didn’t question my guidance despite having a big belly for some time,” she chuckled. “And they grew fond of her. Whenever we see land, we’d take her with us. She had seen so much yet she hasn’t been to the most important place for her mother.”

Arya discreetly wiped a tear that slowly rolled down her cheek, “I was scared, Sansa.” She rubbed her hands together to warm them. Looking up to her sister she said, “I thought I was brave, but I was scared. But then again, father once said that you are the bravest when you’re scared. Every single day as I carried that baby in me, I asked the Gods if I would be able to do this; if I am capable of being a mother. But then I thought of our own mother. How she was able to raise all of us. I thought of you, if it would have been easier if I had my sister with me. Or Jon. Or Bran. And everyday I thought of the day you’d meet her.”

Tears were also pooling in Sansa’s eyes, but she ignored them, “Then why didn’t you come home sooner?”

“Because I didn’t know what to do once I’m back. I wanted to. I wanted to come back but then I realized Westeros is not the same anymore. None of it! Whenever I think about it all I see are the ghosts of mother and father, Robb and Rickon. The dead crawling around and fire breathing dragons, burning people alive,” Arya sniffed and wiped more tears. “I didn’t want to be a Lady nor a Princess. I wanted to go and see what lies ahead and forget everything. I was still able to do that. I was able to get through my grief and fear.”

Arya stood up. Her voice firm, “If there is one thing I learned from all those years with Charlotte, it’s that a child can never hinder you from doing anything that will make you happy. She saved me....... Or whatever’s left of me.”

-----------------------------------------------

Chapter 1 (x)

Chapter 2 (x)

AO3

Well, I’ll leave this here for you to ponder.

Enjoy!

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katlyn1948 · 5 years

Text

Only Human: Part 7 “The Stag and The Fawn”

So this is it! This is the last part....well not technically, I am writing an epilogue. This fic turned out longer than I anticipated and I even added extra parts to it, because I didn’t want to part with it. But alas, it is time. I am glad that I wrote this, I need to focus on another story from “An Unexpected Journey” to help get my creative juices flowing. I am about half way through with writing part 12 for AUJ and I hope to have it up by next weekend...fingers crossed. It just sucks because I work full time and by the time I get home, it’s already 8 at night and I have to get ready for the next day...so like the only time I have to write is the weekend or during my lunch break. Anyway...I’m getting WAY too personal..lol. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I will try to have the epilogue up by Sunday EST. Enjoy and always, happy reading!

The Stag and the Fawn

Gendry stared at the two women in front of him, his mouth agape. When the cook’s boy Harold had told him Mya was entertaining a guest in his solar, he hadn’t expected Arya Stark to be sitting in front of her. He was sure that it would be another prospect for marriage that Lord Estermont had recommended. Mya, with her sick sense of humor, would have brought the girl up just to see his face wrinkle in disgust. But instead of a prissy high born lady in some gods awful dress, sat Arya Stark with a babe strapped to her chest.

There were so many questions running through his head, but none seemed to escape his lips. All he could do was stare at the woman who left him nearly a year prior. He truly believed that he would never see her in the flesh again. All he had were his memories that would plague him every night about the woman he loved.

Mya cleared her throat and Gendry’s gaze tore from Arya, landing on his sister who sat just opposite of her.

“Wolf got your tongue, brother?” She teased.

Gendry glared at her; his eyes shining with fury. Mya had known that look all too well; she got nearly every day. Whenever she would do something to annoy him or embarrass him, he would direct a look towards her that screamed Ours is The Fury. Under normal circumstances, she would jokingly press the matter, knowing he would not and could not do anything harming to her, but her common sense had warned her to think otherwise.

Mya rose from her chair and straightened her leather vest, pulling it down ever so slightly to put in place, “Right, I have to go…check the kitchens. If you will excuse me.”

She gave a slight bow to Arya and threw Gendry a glance that said, don’t fuck it up.

Gendry opened the door for her, letting her slip out of the solar with ease. The door clicked behind her and she heard the lock latch from behind it. She shifted her weight slightly, as to not make a floor board creak and leaned her ear against the smooth surface, trying to listen to any part of their conversation.

Mya had always been a curios woman, and a locked door was not going to stop her from eavesdropping, no matter how private the conversation was. This was her brother; her newfound family. She had to make sure that Arya wasn’t going to break his heart, not like she had the last time. She may have been a wolf, but Mya was a stag and she stayed true to her family words.

Gendry knew Mya was listening right outside of his solar. She always listened to his private conversations and he hadn’t minded because she would catch something he didn’t hear. But this time was different. He wanted complete privacy. Without a single word, he stride towards Arya, grabbed her hand and pulled her into has bed chambers, closing the door behind him. At that moment, he was grateful for the dual rooms and the separation between the solar and bed chambers.

He latched the lock, for added measure, and lead Arya to the small table placed in front of the large fireplace adorning his chambers. She took a seat without hesitation and brought Bella closer to her chest; the babe still sleeping soundlessly.

Gendry began to pace the room. His thoughts going ever where all at once. He wasn’t sure what to say to the girl in front of him or even how to form a proper sentence without sound stupid. It didn’t take much to render the man speechless, so the shock of his former lover with a babe in her arms may have snatched his tongue straight from his mouth.

Arya’s irritation began to grow. First she had a Baratheon that would not shut up, now she has a Baratheon that won’t speak a single word. Aside from their looks, Arya couldn’t see how those two were related. It reminded her of her relationship with Sansa; they were sisters, but couldn’t be more opposite from the other.

Mya seemed quick witted, while Gendry took things at a slower pace. The one thing they did share in common was their stubbornness and Gods help her if she had to deal with the both of them.

Arya sighed, “Well, are you going to say something or just pace the floor the rest of the night?”

Gendry stopped and brought his eyes to meet hers.

Arya could see all the emotions in the swirl of his irises. Each was a potent as the next. Love, angry, passion, confusion, hurt, curiosity. Arya wasn’t sure which one she should tackle first. She knew he would want answers and she would give them to him, but perhaps it was best if she tried to diffuse the situation.

Arya rose from her seat and cross the room to Gendry. She was just a foot from him; their space becoming intertwined. She gently untied the long cloth that held Bella to her and pulled the sleeping babe to cradle in her arms.

Gendry had never seen Arya so gentle before. In all the time he knew her, she had always been a fierce warrior girl, who would push him down to the ground every change she got. The strange tenderness she had shown was a surprising quality he wish he had known sooner.

He looked down at the babe and really saw her for the first time. He hadn’t the chance to acknowledge her before, for he was too preoccupied with the presence of Arya. He knew she held a babe to her chest, but he didn’t know that it would be his.

And she was his; he knew immediately. She had his dark black hair and her hands looked similar to his. His heart swelled to the point of bursting. He though he would never feel this type of love in his life; a love that he wished he had as a child. The love of a father.

“Can I-I hold her?” He voice was nothing more than a whisper and his nerves were beginning to take over.

Arya smiled, “Of course you can.”

She laid the babe in his arms; being careful to not wake her. He was gentle in receiving her and he smiled at the way his arms seemed to fit perfectly around her sleeping form.

He had never held a babe before and wasn’t sure if he was holding her properly, but with Arya’s guidance he hoped to learn.

His eyes remained on the babe and he began to feel himself ease. His nerves calming; so much so, he was unafraid to question her mother before them.

“What is her name?” He wanted to know more than anything.

“Bella Cassandra Baratheon.” Arya stated, her voice slightly shaking.

Gendry tore his eyes from his child and stared at the Gray ones in front of him, “You gave her my name?”

“You’re her father, of course I gave her your name.” Arya said matter of fact.

Gendry knew that Bella was his, but the validation from Arya made it all more real.

It was hard for him to contain the anger that was boiling inside of him. If it weren’t for the child in his arms, he would be screaming and yelling, demanding answers. He hated how stoic Arya seemed by the whole situation; it drove him mad. How could she keep this child from him? How could she not tell him?

Arya could see the bubbling anger form in Gendry’s eyes. It was a type of anger that she had only seem once before during the long night.

Gendry moved to the bed and placed Bella on the soft feather surface. He knew the conversation that Arya and he had to have, and he preferred to not do it in Bella’s presence.

Arya was the one to unlatch his chamber door and walk out to his solar. Gendry followed and gently closed the door behind him. The both moved to sit at the large oak table, each taking a goblet of wine. For a moment they sat in silence; taking small sips from their goblets. It wasn’t until Gendry let out a long, deep sigh that he didn’t know he was holding and ran his fingers through his grown out hair.

“Did you know?” He asked her.

Arya stared at him, taking another sip of wine. “Know what?”

“Don’t play those games with me, Arya. Not now.” He took a breath. “Did you know you were carrying before you left King’s Landing?”

Arya quickly inhaled, “Yes. I knew.”

Gendry burst from his chair, standing to tower over her; his voice now raising, “And you didn’t think to tell me! I had a right to know!”

“I didn’t want you to know!” She yelled back at him. She too, was now standing.

“And why not!?”

“Because-” She hesitated. Drudging up those memories from when she found out were disappointing. She hated every inch of her being for ever thinking that she would get rid of her babe.

She sighed, her voice softening, “Because I wanted to get rid of her. I thought about drinking moon tea or taking my sword and driving it into my belly. If I knew that I wouldn’t die in the process, I probably would have done it and I would have never forgiven myself.”

Gendy’s eyes went soft; his anger melting away. He could see the hurt in her eyes and they way those thoughts plagued her being. He moved closer to her then, engulfing her into a bear of a hug. His arms snaked around her waist, pressing her into his chest. She didn’t protest. She gripped him hard and breathed in his familiar scent. She could hear his heartbeat underneath his jerkin. It was beating with all the strength and pace of a racing horse. She found comfort in his embrace; a type of comfort she hadn’t felt in a long time.

They remained in each other’s arms for a time. Neither one wanting to let go, but Arya had to tell him. She had to let him know what happened and why she took so long to come back.

She pulled from him and brought a hand to his face, cupping it gently. She leaned forward, using the tips of her toes to reach his lips and brushed a soft kiss across them. It was short and gentle and convey a thousand words that never needed to be said aloud.

“I need to tell you everything. But most importantly why I came back.” She whispered.

Gendry nodded and they returned to their seats at the table. They filled their wine goblets and Arya began to recount her story to him. She told him of an endless sea filled with summer heats. She told him of the near mutiny on her ship and of her dear friends that helped her a longer her journey. She told him how terrified she was when she first felt Bella stir inside her and she even confessed that she wanted to give Bella to any woman that would take her. It was a story filled with tears and laughter and strife.

“She was born in a storm. Only a true Baratheon could muster that.” Arya chuckled.

“And is she? A Baratheon through and through?” Gendry inquired.

Arya nodded, a smile adorning her face. “She is just as stubborn as you, if not more. And she can truly sleep through anything, just like her father. And her eyes!”

“What about them?” Gendry asked, a slight panic setting in his voice.

“They are blue, like yours. Like Mya’s. Truly the Baratheon blue that everyone talks about.” Arya mused.

Gendry couldn’t help but crack a joke, “The seed is strong then.”

Arya shoved his shoulder, the smile never leaving her lips.

They talked for hours and Gendry couldn’t help but wonder if Mya was still listening. For her sake, he hoped that she wasn’t.

There was a silent pause between them and Gendry cleared his throat, mustering the courage to ask the question he wanted so desperately to know the answer to.

“Why did you come back? And don’t say it was because of Bella. You and I both know there is more to it than that.”

Arya sighed and finished her wine. She took a deep breathe and began to give him his answer.

“At first, it was because of Bella. I didn’t want her to grow up not know who her father was. I know what it’s like to not have my father there anymore, and I couldn’t bare the thought of her going through that. But then I started to feel this emptiness inside of me that not even Bella could fill. It’s like all those things that made me the old Arya Stark, the one before Braavos, came rushing back like flood. I didn’t know how to stop it, and if I’m being honest, I didn’t want it to stop.” Arya paused. She gave a slight shrug of her shoulders and said, “I guess I was tired of running.”

“What are you going to do now?” Gendry asked.

Arya looked up at his deep blue eyes. She was looking for any indication that he didn’t want her there and she couldn’t see it.

“If it is okay with you, I’d very much like to stay and maybe be your family?” The last part came out as a whisper, but Gendry heard it nonetheless.

A smile spread across his face and he crashed his lips onto hers. He hadn’t remembered getting up from his chair that sat across from her. All he could think about was to hold her close and never let her go. He missed the way she tasted against his lips. The familiar taste of sea salt and wine washed over his tongue and it only made him deepen the kiss even more.

Arya missed this. She missed him and was grateful that she finally listened to her heart for once in her life. She knew this made her happy and she never wanted it to end.

But a tiny babe had other ideas.

A cry from the bed chamber broke the two apart. Arya and Gendry turned their heads to the door and chuckled. Of course their child would have terrible timing.

Arya began to make her way to the bed chamber, Gendry close behind.

Bella was fussing in the bed, wiggling against the light furs. She wanted to be coddled, so a Gendry complied. He lifted her from the bed and held her in his arms, cooing to calm her. Bella stared up at the strange man and began to giggle. Arya was surprised by the reaction, considering Gendry was a new face for her to learn.

Arya couldn’t help but feel nothing but pure happiness as she saw the pair in front of her. Gendry was looking at Bella the way her father used to look at her. It was a sight to behold and a sight that brought tears to Arya’s eyes. She knew that her Stag would love and protect their fawn with his entire being.

This is home. This is where I want to be.

#gendrya #arya stark #got #gendry waters #arya x gendry #gendry x arya #forgie #ao3 fanfic

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