#ok jsyk my arya is like hella divergent from the s8 show cos..... she was a lil rude for no reason during that season!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the fates, the gods, many faced men, whoever, had brought her back here. she knew it. the list of people she had lost had only grown and yet here he stood. she would allow herself to believe it, if only for a few moments. back leans against wooden table, relaxing a little. arya had nothing to fear from him, never had and never would. the list of people she would allow herself to loosen up around was slim to none, jon was at the top, followed by sansa then bran. then she supposed gendry. when she was younger, she did not have many [ any? she thinks to herself. ] friends. her father and jon did not count. sansa always had jeyne poole, arya’s childhood was ripped away from her far too soon to ever delight in finding a best friend. syrio forel had been the first person to truly extend a branch to her and he was long dead now. she had never much liked the ladies at court, all they wanted to talk about were the lords and their dresses — it seemed frivolous to her then, even more so now. there was a pained thought then, the years she had spent calling sansa stupid, spent her time loathing her. it wasn’t until she thought her whole family dead that it dawned upon her how much she loved them so.

❛ i didn’t pay too much attention to my schooling, much to my mothers displeasure. ❜ strange was it was, she wished her mother would scold her now, even only to hear her voice again, she had begun to forget what it sounded like. when she had found sansa, she saw parts of her mother then. her hair, her posture. joy was something she was sure she would never feel again. the last time she had felt it was the day she had gotten nymeria, only to cruelly have to send her away. seeing her family, those emotions and parts of herself she thought she had buried, thought would never return to the surface, they had bubbled over and her heart had thawed ever so slightly. it’s what she feels here, stood in front of gendry. her heart thrumming against her chest. some newer emotions she had never felt before, had difficulty placing them. ❛ you’ve always been nicer to me than any high born lord. ❜ a strange complement, she thinks. there are so many other things she wishes she would say if her tongue would only allow.

quirk of her brow and roll of her eyes. it did not seem to matter how many times she told him not to, he would call her lady forever, if not to do anything but irk her. when she was younger, she would indeed have thrown a tantrum. huffed and stalked away whilst calling him names under her breath. then they’d share some bread over the fire and all would be good again. ❛ just arya is fine, you know. ❜ her sister was lady stark. she was quite content in just being arya stark of winterfell, mind the lady. perhaps she just wanted to hear her name on his lips. now he was older, gruffer, her no longer pretending to be arry. being a lady did not matter to her, not because of the same superficial reasons as from when she was younger, but because, winter was coming. there was a chance their days were numbered, that they could not fight their way out of this. there’s a twinge in her chest as her eyes find his again, a strong urge to reach out and touch him, hug him, anything, her fingers even twitch for a moment before she thinks to herself, maybe he does not want that.

❛ oh that is a very long story, gendry the blacksmith. ❜ her eyes drift to his hands then. a small smile tips on lips, she liked the look of them like that. him doing something he was expertly skilled that. he had always been caught up on the distance between their class, had mentioned it when she told him she could be his family. it had never mattered to her. not for a one moment. mattered even less now. ❛ i escaped the hound and got on a boat. i was no one for a while, killed, drank, spied. worked, scrubbed some floors, even went blind until i had truly learnt the meaning of being no one, not to take from the many faced god. got stabbed, killed the freys. ❜ insane, is probably what he is thinking of her right now. though, all of it happened and she knew not many would believe her. ❛ jon filled me in on his adventures beyond the wall, might have mentioned something about you being there. ❜ a pause, jon had told her a lot. but if gendry wanted to tell her himself, she’d let him, wouldn’t impose. ❛ you saw them? the dead. ❜ she straightens up and takes a small step towards him. ❛ i thought…. i thought you were dead. ❜ her voice drops off at the end of her sentence, a small crack. ❛ i’m truly glad you are not. ❜

i'm not a lady, she has claimed, though gendry would whole-heartedly disagree.

she'd been a lady then, even scrawny and hair cut scrappily short t' be passed off as a boy's, she'd been a lady. the years since they last... since they last saw each other hadn't changed that. ( and he had t' think it that way. saw, without the act of finality he'd have had himself believed in for so long. like they were simply old friends biddin' farewell at some crossroads, they were, when the truth o' the matter was : he'd been wheeled off because he was stupid and unfortunate. and she'd been right. he shouldn't 'ave never trusted anyone but arya. she would've never sold him off; she wouldn't 'ave traded him for anything ... just as he wouldn't. )

as a matter of fact, gendry believes she looks more like a lady than anythin' now. there is certainly a composure t' her he wouldn't 'ave recognised in arry, the orphan boy, the stark-girl-in-hiding he knew. arry had been more bite and daring fists. a tiny thing gendry had had to more than once hold back from certain confrontation. this... lady in front o' him wears arry's face, aye, though cleaner, and older, and ... and gendry wouldn't 'ave dreamt of touchin' her with his smithy hands right at present, he wouldn't. they're dirty, after all. soot-covered and fire-licked. they're meant for the ashes; for the work he was always born for. she's different.

and that's- that's okay now. that's okay, because none about whether she's m'lady or he's too bloody lowborn would matters if it means she's home. she's right where she's supposed to be. the winterfell she's always dreamt about.

the mention of hot pie springs forth a smile upon his face, finally, though the smith directs it t' his ale than at her. he- he's glad t' know the slow chap's alive. gods, if only gendry knew... if only he knew, maybe he would've made some effort t' see the lad again. one last time, at the very least. ❛ i said what i said, ❜ he rebukes, not quite smartly he'll admit, though that's the point, ain't it ? ❛ aye. not bein' schooled is sort o' the whole point o' bein' a poor baseborn, m'lady stark. ❜

and it says so in jest, or he'd like t' believe it's came out that way anyhow. sometimes gendry understands he can come across far bitter, angrier. not this time though. he's teasin'. but who knows how arry — lady arya, daughter of eddard stark — would take it. maybe it'll just remind her o' the way they part : angry and sulking, tearing the bridge o' their social class further and further as the miles between them grew bigger. gendry couldn't be sorry for it though. still bull-headed and stubborn - aye, there is guilt and remorse in how they were separated, true, but he is still poor. she is still the daughter o' the former hand, sister to her lady sansa stark.

❛ they said ye've travelled east. ❜ he'd known it mainly from rumours more than anything. but now gendry's hungry for the truth. ❛ how'd ye' managed that, then ? ❜