*was a literal nine year old child the first time she was forced to kill in self defense, has watched her family die in front of her, was the one to find her mother's dead body, was forced into the life of a child soldier, kills because she just wants some kind of justice from the people who destroyed her whole life and tore her family apart*
ummm clearly she's an evil psycho and can't be trusted
Arya turned to her sister. “They’re talking about you.”
“Shut up,” Sansa said, never taking her eyes off her book.
“Now girls,” Catelyn said in a tired voice. “We’re going to be together all summer–let’s at least try to get along.”
“You’ll be sharing a room,” Ned added.
“She’ll suffocate me in my sleep.”
“If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t wait until you were asleep,” Arya said.
Arya smiled and looked out the window. She was looking forward to this vacation, even if Sansa was being pricklier than usual. Robb was on his honeymoon, Jon was overseas, and Bran and Rickon were at a summer camp of their own. The house would be so quiet that Ned and Catelyn had decided to take the girls to a retreat in the mountains. Sansa hadn’t been wild about the idea, and admittedly, neither had Arya at first, but she’d never taken such an intimate vacation before and she was excited at the prospect. She and Sansa had been getting along better now that Sansa was at school (a finishing school where women majored in getting married, in Arya’s opinion, but a school nonetheless) and only came home for holidays, and she hoped that this trip would make them bond. She hoped, too, that her parents would start to view her as an adult–or at the very least, stop treating her like a baby.
Essos was progressing nicely. Lyenne had now mounted and ridden him bareback around the yard, with Onyx watching on. The wolf had frightened the stallion initially, both were used to the other’s presence. Though she was tempted, Lyenne did not saddle Essos, she preferred the feeling of the animal moving beneath her, unhindered by leather and wood. She was also wanting to take her time with the beast, not to rush him.
From his back, she watched the courtyard. The yard was bustling today; large chandeliers were transported across the mud to the Great Hall as cartsful of candles were dispersed to various rooms. Essos danced nervously beneath her bare legs. She hadn’t bothered with breeches today and her dress was hiked up around her thighs, drawing the attention of many a stablehand.
‘’He’s doing well,’’ Robb commented. He was leaning against a fence rail watching her ride. He eyed her bare leg. ‘’You should put your breeches on. You draw less attention in a man’s clothes than you do riding around like that.’’ Lyenne grinned. ‘’Maybe I should ride like this in a tourney. Everybody will be too focussed on my legs to notice where my lance is.’’ Robb laughed and Essos started at the sound. Lyenne managed to keep her seat and quickly calmed the horse.
‘’I’ll take my leave, lest that horse throw you because of me.’’ Robb grinned at her before walking off.
The Godswood was alive with sounds today, adding to Essos’s excitement. Lyenne sighed and adjusted her seat yet again as he leapt sideways as a bush rustled in the breeze.
‘’Calm, Essos, calm,’’ she whispered. The stallion nickered but stilled under her. They got two more steps before he shied again. This time, it was a horn that set him off. One blow; riders. Lyenne swore, then turning Essos around and bolted for Winterfell, cursing the whole time.
The horns blew again, signalling the for the gates to open just as Lyenne arrived in the courtyard. Stable hands rushed forward to take Essos from her and she nodded her thanks and bolted for her chambers, to change into something a little more ladylike.
By the time Lyenne had pulled on her dress; a dark grey gown, with a hem of black Myrish lace, and made it down to the courtyard the front of the party was riding through the gates. First was Prince Joffery, his great red cloak covering the rump of his smaller brown garron. She saw Sansa give him a sly smile out of the corner of her eye. Lyenne nudged her with an elbow, smirking at Sansa, who glared right back at her older sister. A knight in black armour with a great helm in the shape of a dog’s head rode behind him. The Hound, Lyenne guessed. Stories of both he and his brother, The Mountain, were common throughout Westeros.
Next came the caravan, lead by two black horses. The paint work was red, with intricate designs in gold; Lannister colours. Finally came King Robert on a black drestier that huffed under his weight, followed by two Kingsguard in golden armour, enamelled in white to show off elaborate designs on the chest and shoulders.
At once, everyone knelt, heads bowed. A wooden crate was brought forwards and the King clambered down off his horse and approached the Starks. He paused in front of Ned. Then he held out a hand and twitched his fingers upwards, signalling us to rise.
The King of Westeros stared at Ned for a second. ‘’You got fat.’’
The Lord of Winterfell simply raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Robert’s own protruding stomach and the courtyard froze.
Then the two men burst into laughter.
‘’Cat!’’ the King exclaimed, turning to embrace my mother. He reached a hand down to muss Rickon’s hair before turning to me.
‘’Little Lady, my you’ve grown beautiful. You’ve grown so fast, and so beautifully. How the women must envy you. I hear you’ve become your master-at-arm’s favourite student; even when you were a young child, you were better than most of the men in my guard. Remember when we sparred?’’
Lyenne inclined her head. ‘’I do, Yours Grace. I also believe I beat you. Still bruised?’’ she grinned up at the King, who laughed heartily.
‘’She’s even more like Lyanna now than when she was before! Maybe she should spar with the Kingslayer, give him a run for his money!’’ A sharp laugh echoed from a guardsman, though the helms blocking their faces prevented Lyenne from knowing which one.
Lyenne grinned. ‘’It would be my honour to knock him on his ass, Your Grace.’’
Catelyn Stark gasped at her daughter’s language, but the King laughed. ‘’Yes, I can see why she remains unmarried, Ned. It would take a special man to tame that Stark spirit.’’ He embraced her before moving back to Lord Stark.
He considered his friend for a moment. ‘’Nine years; where the hell have you been?’’
‘’Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours.’’
The caravan door swung open with a bang, and the Queen stepped out. Cersei Lannister was undeniably beautiful. Long, golden Lannister hair contrasted with the rich red of her dress. She glanced around the courtyard with a distasteful expression.
‘’Where’s the Imp?’’ asked Arya.
‘’Oh, will you shut up?’’ said Sansa. I elbowed her, glaring at them both to keep their mouths shut.
‘’Who have we here? You must be Robb!’’ Lyenne heard the King exclaim. He moved from each of their siblings, commenting on Sansa beauty, and telling Bran he would be a soldier one day.
The King nodded to a guard behind him. The guard removed his helmet, revealing Lannister blonde hair. There was no denying his handsomeness; it was clearly Jaime Lannister, the Queens twin brother. Arya mentioned as much to Sansa.
Lyenne watched as Jaime scanned the commoners, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. He had a strong jaw and bright green eyes. Everyone had heard tales of the mighty Kingslayer, a fearsome warrior with no honour or moral code. He caught her staring and winked. Lyenne flushed and glanced back towards the Queen, who was now standing in front of her father.
She held out her hand expectantly, not even looking him in the eye has he bent to kiss her knuckles.
‘’My Queen,’’ he acknowledged.
‘’My Queen,’’ Catelyn repeated, curtseying.
‘’Take me to your crypt,’’ Robert commanded. ‘’I want to pay my respects.’’
The Queen tsked. ‘’We’ve been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait.’’
Robert glanced at her before gesturing for Ned to lead the way. The Queen stared daggers after her husband, but he did not turn.
The cold of Hoth’s atmosphere stung Sansa’s cheeks before Lady set one paw outside Echo Base. The Starks had all grown up in the snow—Winterfell was in the snowy, mountainous northern region of Alderaan, after all—but Hoth was nothing like Winterfell. Wind blistered her cheeks and she had to grip her furred hood in place to keep it from tearing away. Her eyelashes crusted with snowflakes and she squinted, turning Lady away from the wind.
A flash of gray. Nymeria was suddenly next to her, steam rising from her mouth. “Here,” Arya said, pressing a pair of goggles into Sansa’s gloved hand.
When she’d first arrived on Hoth, Sansa had wrinkled her nose at the goggles, swearing she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something so hideous. But now, she pulled them over her head eagerly.
They rode through the storm, climbing atop the nearest peak, the direwolves effortlessly scaling the hundreds of feet of treacherous cliffs. Grey Wind reached the top first. Robb sat astride his wolf, his eyes on the sky and a hand on the hilt of his lightsaber, as if any second he’d have to fight. Nymeria sidled up to him, and Sansa nudged Lady to join them, three direwolves standing strong against the cold.
Imperial star destroyers were dipping into the atmosphere. “Thanks to Bran’s warning, we were able to raise the shields to maximum power,” said Robb. “They tried to ambush us, but now we have the upper hand.”
“It doesn’t feel like it!” Sansa said. It felt like she was going to freeze, and die, and have the rest of her family taken away from her.
“With our shields up, they can’t attack from the air,” Robb explained.
“But won’t they be prepared for a land assault anyway?”
The hint of a smile grew on Arya’s face. “But not just a land assault. And not against wolves.”
“What do the wolves matter against AT-AT walkers?” Sansa asked, irritated. She felt like she was five steps behind her siblings. She wished now she’d paid more attention to the rebels when they discussed battle strategy or Imperial weaponry, but it was just so boring at the time.
But neither of them responded. They were staring up.
“Look,” Robb said, his voice soft as snow.
Above them, almost breaking the stormy sky in two, was a long, angled ship bigger than any other Sansa had ever seen. It had a thin, snakelike body and two wings that fanned out into sharp points. She could see the glint of green on the ship even from here, even with the storm. She breathed in too sharply and her lungs filled with aching cold.
She’d seen that ship before. It had come to Winterfell, and then it had left with her father.
“Rhaegal.” Robb said the word like a prayer, or maybe a curse.
Recap: After Robb has seen you in a very private time, the things between you and the Stark degenerate; at least as long as you’ll make it even.
you had roughly covered yourself with a blanket in a makeshift way, you watched
Robb again, still standing there out of breath.
– I am so sorry, Lady Y/N – he pronounced his
words very slowly, like he was pondering what to say.
– No, you’re not… – retorted Arya with a grin on her face. Then
you both shut her up shouting, making the direwolves bark again.
The little girl run away
giggling from the room, chased by Nymeria, and Robb Stark and you were left
alone. There was silence for a while, Grey Wind curled up on the floor with his
eyes moving from you to his master; it was like the both of you could hear your
hearts racing in your chests. Eventually Robb left without saying a word.
That evening you decided to
stay quiet and keep your head down. During dinnertime you ate your meal
almost noiselessly, refraining yourself from talking to anyone; you were seated
between Bran and Jon, so it wouldn’t be that hard. For his part, Robb seemed to
be loud as usual: he talked with Theon, to his mother, then with his father
and siblings. He tried to start a conversation even with you, but the scrape
happened beforehand was still in your mind and, when he simply asked you – Some
more bread? –, you almost choked on your wine. As Bran and Arya found that
scene hilarious, Robb looked at you with concern and not because you were
coughing your lungs out. – Wine is dripping out of her nose – his little siblings
The next morning you were able to avoid any contact with Robb: neither a
word nor a glance. Well, maybe you gave him a glimpse or two just to avoid him
better… Or to admire him sparring in the practice yard with Theon and Jon, but
you always stayed at a safe distance. Nevertheless, when you were about to go
back to your needlework session, he met you halfway up the stairs. You grumbled
softly, earnestly taking the prospect of throwing yourself into consideration.
– You’ve been avoiding me all day like the chickens do with Shaggydog – he was
acting ironic, the tension had to be unbearable for him too. Surely he felt
uncomfortable, now you could see it.
– Wait, have you just called me a chicken? – you answered back, a little
Robb took your hands hastening to fix what he had just said.
– Y/N please, I did not mean to! – and he pulled you towards him.
Now the fabric of your dress overlapped the leather of his jerkin. You
could feel your breaths were both heavy but didn’t match, and the sensation of
your colliding chests made your emotions even more difficult to hide. When his
fingers squeezed yours, you looked up at his eyes and felt your face flushing.
– I’m really asking you to forgive me, – he said firmly, – I shouldn’t have
– You’re right, you should have not – was your reply that didn’t sound convincing
even to you. He indeed didn’t trust that, and his serious expression became a
Smirking, he lowered his head down to your ear and whispered, in a sexy husky
voice – But I’ll never regret it, my Lady.
His breath tickled a pleasant sensation that made you sigh with desire; you
could not help that, even if you knew he was just being provocative. When you
moved your gaze to his eyes again, however, your heart skipped a beat: there
was not a hint of mockery in those blue Tully irises.
– Do you understand what I mean? – Robb asked keeping his voice low.
Unable to answer, you just stared back at him. Unconsciously, your other hand,
which was resting on his chest, started to stroke his jerkin, trying to
memorize the feeling under the tips of your fingers. To be honest, you always
thought he was fond of the steward’s daughter, Jeyne; but now that he was standing
so close to you and his scent made you feel so safe, you preyed you had always
– My Lady, – Robb called you back in a whisper, – Breathe…
Suddenly you realized you spaced out without breathing for nearly
a minute; you
took air in, just as he said.
– Are you alright?
He was smiling at you in delight, knowing perfectly well he was the reason
that you were so excited. That hurt your pride, so you put yourself back
together and nodded.
– I’d better go, – you said forcing a smile, – Arya detests being left
alone with Septa Mordane and your sister.
His hold didn’t loosen, though.
– Robb – you insisted as you could not bear his gaze anymore; but he cut
– Did you understand? – he repeated making you gulp.
Then you said, almost losing your temper, – Do you think I am stupid, Stark?
Perhaps you were too curt with him, because you caught a glimpse of guilt
in his stare, but it was too late to retreat. Finally you went away as fast as
you could, without looking back, and you ran to the room where the other girls
were sewing with the Septa.
– What took you so long? – the
youngest Stark daughter exclaimed as you shut the door behind you.
The night was restless and,
waking up the next morning tired and achy, you decided to turn down the ride to
– Are you Sure, Y/N? – Jon asked while saddling his horse, – Sansa
and Jeyne are coming too.
Without giving you time to say anything, Theon answered him with his
– Leave the chick alone, she fears wolves…
he’s aware, you said to yourself. Why couldn’t Robb choose a more discreet friend?
Then you noticed the look Jon gave him, and you understood he knew too. You snorted
and gave them both a punch in the arm.
– You’re not an Ironborn, Greyjoy, you’re just an old fish wife – you
uttered, – And call me a chicken again and I will kill the three of you.
– Why did you hit me too? – Jon complained rubbing his sore arm, watching
you walk away.
Soon after, the group left the castle and you went to your chambers. Unfortunately,
spending the whole morning alone turned out to be too boring for you: you
couldn’t sleep because the sleepiness seemed to have abandoned you, but you
were still too tired to read and embroider. You stayed outside in the Godswood
for a while, but you got annoyed; furthermore, you started to feel bad for avoiding
Robb again. It was also true that you could not showing up at the woods like
that, saying “Hi, I was so stupid not to
come with you earlier, but here I am, let’s have fun guys!”, especially
since you knew nearly everyone was aware of the circumstances. You had to come
up with a plan. After a while you sneaked in Robb’s room and took a pair of his
gloves; then you gave order to saddle the horse and went down to the stables,
ready to catch up with the others.
The ride was short and you found Sansa and Jeyne settled on several fur
rugs, chatting with books open on their lap, and two guards close by. When the
red haired girl saw you, she greeted and welcomed you offering some lemon
cakes, which you gladly accepted.
– Do you know where the boys are? – you asked eating the last piece of your
sweet and, afraid of looking suspicious, you added – I was told to bring Robb
– He already wear… – Jeyne was about to rebut, but Sansa cut her off
telling you that probably they were hunting not far from there.
– Grey Wind and Ghost are with them too, so Lady can help you to find them –
she said then, telling her pretty direwolf to bring you to her brothers. You smiled
warmly at her in response and went away following Lady in the Wolfswood.
You didn’t have to walk for long to find Ghost, even if, actually, he was
the one who found you. He came close by your leg to be petted and while
stroking his head, you noticed the blood all around his mouth. You gulped
getting a little bit nervous. Then the white direwolf started to lead you
together with Lady. Before long, you met Grey Wind too: he was chewing some pricket
entrails, with the remains in front of him; so that was the source of the blood
on Ghost’s snout. You were relieved it was just a wild prey and nothing else.
It was in that moment that you heard the sound of laughs and splashing
Knelt down behind a shrub, you moved some branches to take a peek at what Jon,
Theon and Robb were doing. They were taking a bath in the river, playing like
children. They wrestled and splashed each other; even Jon was laughing like
never before. But it was Robb’s face that enchanted you: his so happy look, his
perfect teeth and lips, his wet auburn curls and toned chest… more than his
beauty, however, it was his way of being that was absolutely captivating. Just
seeing the smile on his face was enough to melt your heart. He was so stunning that
you came to believe the Gods were supposed to have his image.
If the love you felt for him wasn’t enough to make you weak at the knees
before, well… now it was.
Brienne: [returns to Winterfell and sees Sansa] *coldly* My Lady.
Sansa: Oh thank the gods you’re back! We’ve all missed you and each filled out a “thank you for being part of our family” card. Oh, and Winter has really hit so I made you this new cloak and I got a matching one for Podrick –
Brienne: *blushes* My lady, this is too much–
Arya: Shut up, we love you. So glad that Littlefinger didn’t get a chance to kill us. Can we spar now?
I write this one mostly because of the sweet comments and reactions to my last one shot. Thank you, guys :* :) But I’m also in that Gendrya feeling.
Many moons passed, and Arya and Gendry spent some time together, sometimes flirting and taunting and sometimes arguing and discussing. One could thought they acted like a long married couple, but Gendry and Arya knew it better.
It was a cool morning, fog and cold covered the walls of Winterfell and its surroundings. The smith and the Stark girl walked side by side through the snowy gardens of Winterfell. They walked close to each other , but not so close that one could speculate the wrong things.
“So”, Arya began. “Now we are friends I guess. You could even leave your shop for me.”
Gendry looked at her. “Aye, ahh, you know, sometimes it’s stuffy there. But if you like the thought that it’s because of you…”
“Oh, shut up”, Arya laughed. She didn’t laugh for a long time, though she didn’t laugh much at all. It felt strange, but she liked it.
The stones under their foots crunched and were thus the only sound after their short teasing. *It’s nice to talk with him*, the girl thought, *He doesn’t say much.*
“So…”, Gendry started, sightly trying to set up a conversation. “You experienced quite a lot. And since I know you don’t like Clegane-…”
“Do YOU like him? I mean, come on”, Arya interrupted him. “You fought next to him. He may fight well, but if Jon wouldn’t have been there he would have left you all to your deaths.”
“First”, Gendry said “I didn’t say that I like him. Second, I can’t tell that he would’ve. He is an…arsehole, yes. But I don’t think he would have left us.”
Arya looked at the ground before them. “That’s because you don’t know him. He killed my friend once. Thought it was some fun to chase him like an animal. And when we both travelled together, after you were sold to the Red Priest, I left him to rot. He was injured. Badly. And I thought: That’s more mercy than you deserve. I still think so.”
Gendry didn’t look at here. They walked in silence a while, until Gendry brought that silence. “You are not they same, annoying boyish girl I knew, are you? I mean you are still annoying, but you know what I mean.”
“I do. But that’s no tale for everyone’s ears.”
“Am I everyone?”
“I just don’t want you to know it.”
Arya looked at the broad fench of stone in front of them and sat down. Gendry followed her at once.
“Winterfell is beautiful”, Gendry said, and he gave Arya a look which almost made her shivering. “King’s Landing is a city of shit and piss, but this is a natural place”.
“Winterfell is full of horseshit”, Arya responed. ,,But it fits perfectly here.“
Gendry chuckled amused. *He doesn’t laugh much either* Arya noticed.
“Your brother, the King”, Gendry began.
“What is with him?”, she asked warily.
“He needs more men for the coming war against the walkers. I volunteered. Just wanted you to know”, he said, a little bit uncomfortably.
“Do you think I would tell you not to?”, she asked, making a long break. “Because I completely do so. We need you here at Winterfell. The other smiths don’t have your skill in making obsidian to weapons.”
And Gendry laughed. Like a boy. It irritated and angered Arya.
“What are you laughing about, you stupid bull?”
“I’m sorry”, he breathed, half laughing. “It’s just so weird. You, tallking politically” Then he got serious.
“My skill in combat is as well as in smith work. Do not worry about that.”
“I didn’t say such a thing!” Arya said loudly. “We just need your skill here.”
“WE or you?”, Gendry asked softly and amused.
“Winterfell. The North. That includes me too, yes”, Arya said diplomatically. Who did he think he was? But there was something. She didn’t want him to leave. Not again.
“Who will annoy me when I’m bored? And you know, you won’t have a funeral”, she babbled, hoping she could convince him, even when the things she said were nonsense.
“Okay, now you are talking nonsense”, Gendry grinned. He turned to her and looked her straight in the eyes. “What is it to you, anyway?”
Did he really asked that? They were friends. Arya thought about what she would say next. In any other case she would choose her words carefully. But this was important to her. He shouldn’t leave. Leave her. That’s the only thing she knew for sure.
*other parts are on my blog under the ‘everything arya/gendry’ tag*
“Would you please shut up?” The sky was a velvety purple darkness, dotted with small stars that burned brightly in the clear air. Not even a mist hung over the lake, and the moon shone so brightly the grounds could been seen clear from the top of the Astronomy tower where Gendry sat with the rest of his peers for their late night star-gazing class. A class where Anguy would not stop bothering him.
Headcanon that on the run, Arya and Sandor take turns defending Sansa to each other.
Drunk over the campfire, Sandor would grouse, “Your stupid sister could have been safe if she’d had brain enough to come with me.”
And Arya would shout back, “Shut up, don’t you dare call my sister stupid! She was smart enough to realize you’re the last person anyone would want to be stuck with, Hound!”
Then later on, Arya would sulk, “None of us would even be in his mess if Sansa hadn’t been weak and trusted Joffrey.”
And Sandor would snap, “You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about, girl! Your sister’s strong, stronger than the lot of you stupid headless Starks. Not many people would have survived in King’s Landing as long as she has.”
Then they think about Sansa for the rest of the night and get sadder and sadder.
Hellooo! Can you do something where Jon is the Stark and Sansa is the Targaryen, perhaps Rhaegar or Aerys' child. :3
smutty. i can always do a sequel with their wedding night and perhaps sansa wanting to take back her rightful place on the iron throne if people want!! let me know what you think. Everything is moved up timeline wise.