asoiaf fiction

anonymous asked:

As a long time Jonerys fan(going back to 2000) I'm so happy they are finally together. I used to argue with uppidy book fans and recent show fans about Jon & Dany being endgame. GRRM didn't make their stories very similar for no reason. Yes they both sometimes parallel other book characters but out of all of those they've always had the most in common. I never got those who thought that Dany wasn't good enough for Jon when he was with a Wildling.

First. We were right. You were right. You read the book and watched the show and followed the narrative and took the hints. 

Second: I don’t trust fandom with female heroes.

They invariably want to erase their heroism and give the bigger part to the male hero… particularly when the male and female are set up as equals and partners. 

The women are judged harshly for behaving in the way a leader should. The women are expected to never make mistakes. To be above any trouble. To be perfect.The women are judged as cruel for leading a  battle, even though those they target are ONLY only other warriors, no civilians, even though THAT is exactly what battle is. The women are judged as HEARTLESS for not breaking down in tears on the battlefield.

You tell me what warrior is allowed to start crying in the middle of a pitched battle with zombies and dragon killing ice kings? 

No warrior.

No warrior gets to cry when they lose someone in battle. It’s battle. You keep on fighting. You cry later.

But because Dany is a woman who is a hero and has power no one else has, and takes responsibilities no one else does, Dany is compared to other mothers sad for the loss of her children and found wanting. Although NONE of those mothers were in a pitched battle. 

They say she’s not good enough for Jon, because fandom, and society, believes that a woman’s place is as a helper to a strong heroic man. So they prop up the man and tear down the woman and declare her not good enough, even if she is BETTER than any one else. Even if she wins the loyalties of fierce warriors and saves and entire country from slavery. Nope. That’s not good enough. She made mistakes. She struggled. She was mean to her enemy on the battlefied, therefore she is bad.

Give me a break.

Let me clarify. 

This is misogyny. They hold Daenerys up to standards that no one else is held up to, not male heroes and not supporting female characters. Not even female villains. 

Dany put herself forward and stepped out of the place that society said was hers. And so society must put her down. What a nasty woman. 

The Kraken’s Arms: Euron Greyjoy x Reader

Originally posted by proinsiascassidy

You are the last surviving child of Cersei and Robert’s only true heir. Having Tomman passed, you decided you didn’t want the crown, handed it to your mother and stand by her side at all times. With war coming, your mother has to make allies and the only way to make allies, is with marriage.

(Y/N) = Your Name 

***If you’re blonde, just imagine dirty blonde because you have darker colored hair in this*** 


Warning: Maybe smut?????? SHHhHHhhhHHH.  

Your mother, never looked better on the Iron Throne. You knew you were never fit to sit on it, rule over everyone when so many people were against you and your house. The last surviving Baratheon child of Cersei Lannister and Robert Baratheon. 

Keep reading

i’ll always keep you warm and safe and guard you with my sword

This is obviously incredibly late, but I still wanted to participate in axgweek this year, so I’m going to get a story out for each of these prompts eventually.

For the Wedding prompt, AryaxGendry wedding styled after Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann’s wedding in Pirates of the Caribbean.

This is set some time in Season 7, of if you’re a book reader, whenever it is that the White Walkers manage to get past the Wall. For purposes of the story, let’s assume Jon is already King of the Seven Kingdoms.

The battle between the men (and women) of Westeros and the White Walkers and their army was waging on the Gift, the fields just south of the Wall. Or what was left of it.

As usual, Arya and Gendry could be found in the thick of it, surrounded by wolves, both human and animal. Gendry’s large war hammer and Arya’s Dark Sister, half of Ice re-forged by Gendry, rang metal-on-metal as they tore swiftly through swarms of the Others.

They were never far from each other during a battle, not since they had reunited. They fought well together, intuitively predicting each other’s moves, planning strategies together without a word in the very midst of the fight.

“Sideface!” Arya shouted suddenly.

Gendry, the only one in the vicinity who knew what she was talking about swiftly twirled so he was standing sideways, narrowly missing the icy blade of a wight whose head was suddenly dismembered by Arya’s sword.

Gendry smiled wolfishly at Arya who returned the grin. And then he was tearing through another line of wights. He could see Nymeria and her pack at the side of his eye, ripping through yet more wights.

Gendry’s heart nearly stopped when he heard Arya’s cry. Ignoring the wights coming at him, he turned and rushed toward Arya. She had been knocked onto her back by an actual White Walker, but even as he ran to help, she was meeting the Walker’s sword with her own while simultaneously jumping onto her feet with a snarl.

Gendry’s heart stuttered nevertheless. The wights were easy, but the two of them had only ever met a White Walker in battle together. So ignoring that Arya likely wanted to beat this one on her own, Gendry swung his heavy war hammer at the Walker’s head. The Walker barely twitched, and suddenly his sword came flying at Gendry who only managed in the nick of time to raise his hammer. Although the hammer took the brunt of the blow without shattering, Gendry was knocked ten feet backwards and landed hard on his back in the snow, losing all the breath out of his lungs.

His vision became blurry, but even as he tried to catch his breath, he managed to deflect a blow, then saw Thoros and Tormund both step in to cover him. He didn’t care about any of that though; he attributed his inability to catch his breath instead to the panic rising within him and drowning him at the thought of Arya fighting the Walker, that Walker, alone. More than anything, it was this thought that brought him, shaking, to his knees, then to his feet.

It was then that he finally caught sight of Arya, a blur as she parried and swung at the Walker who met every blow. If she could just drive that Valyrian steel through the beast, it would be done, but the Walker’s strength seemed to be more than that of any they had ever fought before.

Gendry struggled through the icy wind, which had picked up in strength, toward the fighting pair, his heart in his throat as he watched, knowing any second could be her last. Just one misstep. One wrong move. He’d never been more grateful to the House of Black and White than he was at that moment for teaching his Arry how not to make missteps.

He roared as he tore through the wights that stood in his path to Arya and the Walker, but they kept on coming. Somehow, Gendry managed to keep at least one eye on them. When he was less than three feet away, his panic dissolved suddenly when a shadow leaped between Arya and the Walker. And at that moment, Gendry had never been more grateful to Jon Snow, who joined the fray with his own Valyrian steel blade.

Arya and Jon, together, beat the Walker back and in two swift, sudden movements, both their blades pierced the Walker, who dissolved into icy dust.

“Arya!” Gendry shouted, knocking down three wights at once.

“Gendry!” She shouted at the same time, running towards him.

They met in midair, their arms clutched tightly around each other, despite the thick layers of cloaks they both wore to keep warm.

Gendry felt Arya’s hands twist in his hair as she clutched him to her. “I thought you were gone.” Arya’s breath was hitched and Gendry realized she was crying.

He tightened his hold on her, not wanting to let go, but knowing he’d soon have to or they’d both die in the midst of this icy war.

“Never, Arya. Never.” He promised, not knowing how he’d keep that promise, considering it felt like they were losing.

More clanging of metal on metal brought them both back to their senses, as Jon took on another White Walker who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. With one last squeeze, Gendry let go of Arya and they both joined Jon, knowing their greater strength was needed against the Walkers, rather than the wights.

During the fight, Arya kept meeting Gendry’s eyes, her desperation and panic so palpable Gendry felt himself drowning in both feelings once more.

“Jon,” Arya gasped, clutching her brother’s arm, once the Walker had diminished into nothing. Both Gendry and Jon heard the steel in her voice and gazed at her intently.

“Marry us.” Arya glanced at Gendry, almost shyly. They’d never told anyone of their intention. Yet Jon would have been the first to know, but then the true war had begun and there hadn’t been time.

But Gendry knew the time might never come again, so he echoed her words in a deep, sure voice. “Yes. Marry us.” Arya’s eyes filled with love for him then.

Jon looked dumbstruck, but none of them had the chance to speak again, as they were overcome in a wave of wights.

“Are you both mad?!” Jon shouted at them, as Longclaw tore through three wights and then another four.

Back to back, Gendry and Arya both laughed loudly, as they destroyed wight after wight beyond count.

“We are mad, aren’t we?” Gendry shot at Arya as they turned round and round to ward off more of their enemies.

“It’s now or maybe never, Jon!” Arya shouted her brother’s way almost apologetically.

Jon managed to fight through a group of wights to gain closer ground to the couple. “You never even asked my approval.” He managed to say in a joking tone despite the circumstances.

Arya’s sword was a blur, but she never faltered as she fought. “That’s because we knew we already had it, your Grace,” she parried back at him with a grin.

Jon’s chuckle died on his lips as he had to tumble to avoid being stabbed by a wight. He came back to his feet, spitting snow from his mouth, as he fought off another one. By the furrow in his brow, he was either worried about this fight or thinking hard.

“You have to let me legitimize you first.” Jon shouted toward them suddenly, and it was Gendry’s turn to be caught off balance.

Arya stepped into take on both wights he’d been fighting as he glanced toward her brother. “Your Grace.” He said loudly. But it was a question.

Then it was Jon and Gendry fighting the wights back to back.

“You know you have my blessing to marry my sister,” Jon managed to shout over the clanging of their weapons. “But marry her as a lord. You need never take on the responsibilities, but the option will always be available to you both.”

It was Gendry’s turn to think, until he realized this wasn’t something to even think about. Not if it meant he got to marry her. When he looked towards Arya, he saw she’d already known his thoughts, and returned her sly grin.

“Say the words.” Gendry shouted at Jon who grinned brightly, then drove a sword through two more wights.

“Tormund! Thoros!” Jon shouted. “I need you.”

A sudden roar from behind and the two were tearing through wights toward their king. They stood with their swords extended at his side.

“Bear witness.” Jon commanded shortly. “Kneel.” This was directed at Gendry who fell to his knees in front of Jon. Arya ran to stand behind him to protect him from the oncoming enemy.

“You Southerners and your vows,” Tormund spat on the ground, then sliced the head off a wight, but still stood his ground next to them.

Jon brought Longclaw to Gendry’s shoulder carefully as Gendry lay his war hammer at Jon’s feet.

“Gendry Waters, do you pledge to me your fealty and your service and your life should need be?”

“My fealty, my service and my life are yours, your Grace.”

Jon moved his sword swiftly to tap Gendry’s other shoulder then lifted it. “Rise now as Lord Gendry of House Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End and Warden of the South.” Jon turned toward the fight once more. “I’ll sign papers to make this official if we make it out of here alive,” he promised.

Gendry leapt to his feet, war hammer already in hand, to join Thoros and Tormund as another wave of wights came at them. Gendry almost lost Arya in the crowd, but clutched her right hand and kept her close as they fought. When most of the wights had subsided, the two found Jon, Thoros and Tormund once more.

“Stay close.” Jon told the latter two. “These two want to be married. We’ll need witnesses”

Thoros produced a laugh like thunder as he swept two wights aside almost effortlessly. “Are they to consummate it right here as well?” He boomed, still laughing, bringing pink to both Gendry and Arya’s cheeks.

Jon ignored the joke as he continued fighting.

When it seemed like they might soon be overrun, Gendry managed to find Arya and Jon’s eyes, willing them to get on with it now. Arya fought through a group of wights and reached out to grasp his hand.

“Jon.” She gasped, as she fought off more wights.

Jon’s eyes searched their surroundings until they found a weirwood tree, not twenty feet away. “There!” He shouted.

And their group of five fought swords, hammers and shields toward the tree. Gendry lost Arya’s hand in the fray and made it to the tree with Jon before her. She struggled towards them with Tormund at her side and Thoros nearby. Even near the tree, the wights came at them, and Jon fought three off until he could speak.

“Who comes before the gods?” Jon shouted so all five of them at least could hear, though others fighting for their side stared curiously toward the tree.

“Arya of House Stark!” Arya shouted his way as her and Tormund fought off wights.

“And who comes to claim her?” Jon managed to sputter as he fought off another handful of wights with Gendry’s help.

“Gendry of House Baratheon.” Gendry shouted loud enough for his bride-to-be and their witnesses to hear. The wights heard too but moments later, their heads had been severed, so they didn’t make for reliable witnesses.

“Who gives her?” Jon glanced meaningfully at Tormund who had clutched Arya’s arm to drag her toward the tree and away from the fight.

“I do,” Tormund bellowed, shoving Arya towards Gendry who caught her in his arms.

The fight continued, but Arya and Gendry managed to keep tight grips on each other’s hands through the ceremony as they fought.

“Arya,” Jon shouted, though in a softer tone than before, “do you take this man?”

Gendry felt Arya squeeze his hand roughly. “I take this man.” She said with a snarl as she ran Dark Sister straight through two wights who collapsed.

“Gendry, do you take this woman?” Gendry, who had been distracted by the attack on Arya, was nearly run through by another wight, who Jon immediately beheaded.

“I take this woman.” Gendry said hoarsely pulling her to him.

Both knowing the customs of the North, they knelt together in front of the Weirwood tree, as Jon, Tormund and Thoros gathered behind them to protect them as they silently prayed, clutching each other’s hands. Still, they kept their weapons at the ready.

“I’ll always keep you safe and warm.” Gendry whispered suddenly, bringing to mind the song that had been sung to them both so long ago in the warms halls of Acorn Hall.

Arya looked at him startled but pleased. It wasn’t part of the custom to say anything else, but it only made sense considering it was them. She squeezed his hand tightly again, then remembered there was more to the song. “And guard you with my sword.” She promised, clutching Dark Sister tighter as the battle raged behind them.

They allowed themselves one more moment as Gendry swept his bride into a deep kiss. Her hands clutched at his hair, and his held her to him tightly, both careful not to harm the other with their weapons. Snow falling thickly from above brought them swiftly back to the battle, as wights ascended from the scant branches of the weirwood.

Gendry and Arya both leapt to their feet and took on the wights from above. They never seemed to end. Soon even Jon, Tormund and Thoros had joined their fight.

“The changing of the cloaks!” Thoros shouted suddenly.

Gendry and Arya looked at him as if he were mad, but he simply shrugged. “Weren’t me that insisted on a winter wight wedding.” He chuckled at his own joke, pleased with himself, then fled to help the Hound and Brienne fight off another wave of wights.

As they fought, Gendry, Jon and Arya looked at each other.

Then Jon was covering them as Gendry swiftly removed the gray cloak Arya had been wearing and replaced it with the one he’d been wearing, which just happened to be black, which was at least one of the colors of his new house.

“Happy?” Jon shouted towards them as they kissed once more before immediately fighting the wights once more.

“Overwhelmingly.” Arya bit back, but the pink in her cheeks and her smile belied her sarcasm, and Gendry knew that despite the battle, despite the odds being against them…he knew that she was happy because he was happy because they were finally husband and wife. However long that should last…

Ok, I know that seems depressing, but even though I’m stopping here, let’s assume Daenerys comes and saves them all with the dragons and they get away back to Winterfell where they’re all finally able to celebrate/consummate! Also, forgive me if I got any customs wrong. I completely made up the legitimization ceremony because other than signed letters (like Tommen’s legitimizing Ramsay, we don’t have a lot to go off of otherwise). I did a little research to figure out the Northern wedding ceremony, but it could be wrong, but I did the best I could, hope it was enjoyed anyway! Also sorry that my description of the battle kind of sucks, but that was pretty secondary to what I was trying to do here and isn’t as easy to depict in words as on screen:

Including this note down here to avoid spoilers: This is loosely based on the scene in one of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies where Will and Elizabeth get married; I’d like to attribute the original idea of this to someone on tumblr who put a gifset of the POTC scene together and put it in the gendrya tags, but I don’t remember who they were or what their blog name was, but I’ll still attribute it to that person. Also, apologies if this has been done before; I searched diligently for something similar to make sure I wasn’t copying anyone, but went ahead with this when I couldn’t find anything, figuring/hoping it’d be a first.

A Gem in a Wolf’s Heart: Pt 1

Originally posted by stormborn

Robb Stark and Lady Stark survive the Red Wedding. Talisa/Jeyne died and Robb gets his sisters back, there is a new and better King in Kings landing. The North is independent and the Starks killed everyone that betrayed them. Now you are the gem of the North, your father a great general that promised Catelyn Stark to marry you to Robb Stark so he is to remain King in the North. 

Part Two 

(Y/N) = Your Name

(Y/L/N) = Your Last Name 

Warning: Mean Robb (>3<)

The snow falling always made your heart warm, the way the fallen snow melted against your skin made you smile. You are now of age, a lady in waiting. You are in the snow garden at Castle Elderfrost, a large gray castle with tall skinny trees and frost on all of the blue winter roses. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

46. (Nanny/single parent au in case you forgot the prompts)

Oh my gosh, I know it’s been forever, but I finally did it! For everyone else, this is an arya x gendry story based off one of those lists of prompts! Thanks for the Ask, Anonymous! Hope this fulfills the prompt well enough!

(Just for context, Arya is about 20/21 and Gendry is about 25.)


Nanny/Single Parent AU (with a twist)

Arya huffed in disappointment as she perused the classifieds. She’d already given the bakery a go, and she’d been more trouble than it was worth. At least that’s what they’d told her after she’d allowed another tray of croissants to burn. Dog walker was out because Nymeria went barmy when Arya arrived home and smelled other dogs on her; then Nymeria would ignore Arya for a day or two after.

Sansa looked up from her desk where she was studying for a fifth hour straight from a heavy law casebook.

“Nothing at all?” She murmured sympathetically, though Arya noticed her eyes keep wandering back to the book.

From where she was draped across Sansa’s bed, Arya shook her head vehemently, biting her lip. Lady, noticing the movement lifted her head, her ears perked.

“Nothing I haven’t been fired from before.” Despite her frustration, Arya, joined by Sansa, laughed amiably.

“Why don’t you just take Robb up on his offer?” Sansa asked, shifting the weight of her heavy book from one arm to the other. “It’d pay better by half than any of those odd jobs you always take.”

Arya folded the classifieds roughly and tossed them to the side before rolling onto her side and eyeing Sansa carefully.

The latter only rolled her eyes. “Boring is better than broke.” She sang at her sister.

Now Arya rolled her eyes as she pulled her phone from her back pocket. “If you’ve got the patience. Which you do, and I don’t.”

“True.” Sansa muttered under her breath, going back to studying.

“I heard that,” Arya murmured but with little annoyance. They all knew it was true after all.

Suddenly, Arya’s features brightened. “Oi, hold on.” She sat up excitedly “Hot Pie knows a guy who knows a guy who needs a nanny and-.” She paused, her eyebrows furrowing before shooting upward. “He’s paying bloody well.” She was smiling toothily now as she texted rapidly back to her friend.

Arya had Sansa’s attention though. She was staring intently at her sister.

When Arya finally noticed moments later, she gave her sister a blank look. “What?!”

“I mean, not to be a downer, Arya, but-.”

Arya threw the classifieds towards Sansa. “If you say I basically need a nanny myself, you’re going on my list, San.”

Sansa, who’d been half joking, burst out laughing while Arya only half-heartedly glared her way. Then a ping on Arya’s phone went off, and she was back at the texting.

“Well?” Sansa inquired. “What’s he saying?”

Arya grinned wolfishly toward her sister. “I’ve got an interview.”

Then with hardly any effort, Arya leapt off her sister’s bed and into the hallway. Her heavy footsteps echoed loudly after her, quickly followed by the lighter galloping of Nymeria who’d been sleeping in the hallway waiting for Arya.


Arya whistled as she trundled down the cobbled street toward the address Hot Pie had texted her. She’d been peeved to find out Hot Pie wasn’t going to be there after all as he’d promised, but it was all the same to her really. Her eyes swept from her phone to the numbers on the houses and back.

It should be the next house, she realized. When her eyes met the large iron wrought gate and elegant trees that lined the curved drive that hid the house, of which she could see actual turrets, her whistle ended in a high pitch. No wonder the pay was good. Arya only hoped the pay would turn out to be worth it. Rich brats tended to be the absolute worst.

Not that she had anything against rich people or rich kids. She technically was one, but she’d turned out alright. At least she thought so.

She let out a sigh and pressed the button on the intercom outside the gate that should alert her prospective employer she’d arrived. She glanced at her watch. Early actually. For once.

She waited almost impatiently for a few minutes before buzzing the intercom again. It was another moment before a deep but hassled voice finally responded.

“Yes? Sorry. Is that the pizza?”

The man seemed hurried and out of breath. Arya stifled a grin, in case the camera on the gate pointed her way was functioning.

She held the button down. “No, but that sounds delicious. I’m starving. I’m your future nanny.” She responded good-humoredly. Sansa told her she never gauged situations right and was always responding to people with the wrong emotion. Arya couldn’t help wondering if this was yet another one of those times.

There was a pause on the other end, then the crackling of the intercom again. Arya was relieved to hear he sounded amused. “Well, it’s pepperoni and pineapple, in case you were wondering. And I thought our interview was at noon.”

Arya groaned inwardly and cursed Hot Pie aloud. When the man released the button on his end, she pressed the one in front of her. “Hot Pie doesn’t know his numbers from his arse.” She said this in an apologetic tone.

When the man came on again, though, he seemed to be half laughing. “Well, it’s not like I’m doing anything special. Usually when the security camera’s not working, I’m supposed to let one of my father’s guards come open the gate but since you don’t sound much like a serial murderer, I’m going to go on faith on this one.”

Arya couldn’t stifle her grin this time. He had buzzed her in, so she lifted the bar on the gate and started to step forward then pause. She leaned over and pressed the intercom again. “I may not sound like one, but you’d be surprised.” She laughed out loud to herself as she started up the drive, not even worrying if something like that could upset her potential employer. He seemed to have a sense of humor at least.


Gendry swung the door open, still grinning lightly at the nanny’s last comment. Despite his predicament, he was suddenly in a better mood.

A sound like falling items clattered from behind. Gendry looked over his shoulder, but he didn’t see the little girl in sight. He skimmed the grand staircase again and glanced back toward the kitchen but there was no sign of her. He swung his gaze back toward the front door and started to see a girl framed in the doorway grinning at him.

It took him a moment to speak. She’d had a nice voice, but when he’d asked around for a nanny, he never imagined he’d get someone his age to apply. He figured he’d get a nice plump motherly type. This girl was all hard lines and sharp edges. If he looked a little bit closer, she even looked like trouble. But Gendry had been taken at first glance.

He realized he was being rude or, worse, weird, when she raised her eyebrows at him questioningly.

“Right, sorry.” His voice sounded strange even to his own ears, but he stepped back to let her in. “Come on in.”

She placed one foot, covered in a heavy boot over the threshold. Gendry admired her carefully as she closed the door behind her. Skinny jeans and a sweatshirt tied around her waist. Not exactly what he would have considered interview material, but he wasn’t picky.

She turned, untying the sweatshirt as she did so. “What was your name? Hot Pie never said.”

He gestured to the sweatshirt, offering to put it aside for her. “Gendry.” He told her. “And you?”

The girl handed him the sweater almost questioningly, her eyebrows arching quizzically when he hung her sweatshirt on the coat rack as carefully as if it had been an expensive coat. “Arya.” She finally said decisively with a smile.

“Right, well, Arya, could I get you something to drink before we get started?”

Arya peered around curiously. “Was kind of hoping to meet the little one.” She murmured.

“Right,” Gendry drew out the syllable. “See, the thing about that is, I can’t currently find her.”

A beat passed. Then- Almost laughing, Arya, spoke. “You lost your kid?”

Gendry grinned back sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sort of. She gets into these moods and then she hides somewhere impossible, and it usually takes me days to find her.”

Arya blinked up at him. Even though she seemed to be slightly judging him, he couldn’t help but admire the sharpness of her dark gray eyes. “Days?”

“No,” Gendry let out something between a breath and a chuckle. “Not literally, but a while yeah. I’ve already checked all her regular spots, but she must have found somewhere new.” He couldn’t help but shrug. These were the kinds of things he dealt with on a daily basis. He figured the new nanny might as well know from the get go.

Suddenly, this brilliant girl was grinning brightly up at him. “I’ll take down here, you take upstairs?” There was no better way to describe her grin than as wolfish.

Gendry couldn’t stop the bright smile that came to his own face in response. He hadn’t even planned on asking for the help, and she was just offering. Unless she did turn out to be some sort of axe murderer, he knew she was hired.

“You help me find her, and the job is yours,” he found himself saying.

“So pretty much I’m on the clock?” She grinned facetiously.

“And there’s bonus for you if you actually find her.” Gendry beamed back.

“I’ve got this,” she said confidently. “Shouldn’t take long, even if it is a big house.”

“Don’t forget there’s the third story and the attic.” He added mischievously.

Arya’s eyebrows rose up her face again, but the grin remained. “Fancy are we?”

Gendry rubbed his bright red neck again. “My dad mainly.” He said as a response.

A quarter of an hour later, they met at the foot of the staircase, both empty-handed.

“No luck?” Arya asked him.

He watched her, liking the way her shoulder-length hair was disheveled now. “None.” He liked the way her eyes looked at him too, all mischievous like. “Should we try the cellar?” He asked her good humoredly.

She rolled her eyes. “Of course there’d be a cellar.”

Gendry grinned. “What can I say? My dad’s big on big.”

“You didn’t just lure me here under the pretenses of a good job only to kill me off, did you? You’re not some serial murderer yourself, are you?” She asked suddenly as they strode toward the cellar door.

Gendry laughed heartily, then realized such a reaction might not be taken well by a young woman purportedly alone in a large house with a man. “No.” He sputtered. He pulled out his phone to show Arya his phone’s background which was a picture of him and Weasel.

But when his eyes found her face, she appeared to just have been having a go at him. She took the phone from him anyway and peered at the picture. She was standing close to him, and a wisp of her hair brushed his nose. She smelled like pine leaves and some sort of flower; it was lovely.

Arya’s brow was furrowed as she glanced at the picture. “She looks like a troublemaker,” she joked, “but that could just be the whole hiding in the house thing. Is that the mother?” Arya asked almost nonchalantly as she handed the phone back to Gendry.

Gendry started and glanced down at the picture. “No, no, that’s Mya, our half sister.”

Arya nodded, then seemed to realize what he’d said. “Our?”

Gendry shook his head as he put the phone away. “Sorry, I forgot to explain. For some stupid reason, I thought Lommy or Hot Pie might have told you. She’s my half-sister, but my father. He’s-.” Gendry stopped. He knew he shouldn’t speak ill of his father, especially to a stranger, but there was something about this girl that made him want to divulge all his secrets to her. “He’s not around much, so Mya and I have pretty much been raising her ourselves.”

Arya nodded in understanding. “That’s good of you.” This was the first time since she’d come into his home that her eyes were devoid of humor, replaced instead with a deep intensity.

It made him swallow, hard. “She’s worth it. She’s the best. You’ll see.”

Arya grinned again as she followed him into the cellar. “Will I? Seems like she knows this house better than you.”

They both stopped in their tracks at the foot of the stairs and stared at the sight in front of them.

A small girl, about seven years old, was sitting in the very middle of the large shag carpet, cradling a small black and white creature in her arms.

“Gendry.” Arya spoke first, cautiously. Despite the situation, his stomach couldn’t help but flutter at the way she said his name.

“Yes?” He tried for casual. Weasel’s eyes had found his, and she had the audacity to not look guilty.

“She’s got a skunk.” Arya tried the casual tone as well.

“Yes.” Gendry confirmed. Then he clarified, “A baby skunk.”

Arya side-eyed him then. “Is this an everyday thing then?” She didn’t seem perturbed as much as amused.

Gendry grinned in spite of himself. “It’s not a pet, if that’s what you mean. But, yes, Weasel’s good at finding little furry friends.”

“Weasel?” Arya repeated, but it warmed Gendry’s heart to see that instead of crinkling her nose at the name like some others tended to, she smiled sweetly.

Gendry approached Weasel slowly. “Where did you find this one then, little one?”

He crouched next to the girl who didn’t respond, as he knew she wouldn’t. Instead she lifted the baby animal towards him.

“I see.” He said affectionately, petting the snoozing creature with two fingers. “What shall we name this one?” He asked softly.

Arya watched this interaction from behind, unexplainably finding herself warming at it. For such a large man, he was impossibly gentle.

The little girl gestured toward posters on the wall behind her.

“Rabbit is it, then?” Gendry asked, and the girl nodded vehemently.

Gendry glanced behind him now at Arya. He was only a little worried. He should have told Arya the girl didn’t speak, but he was always cautious to do so outright. He caught the sweet grin on Arya’s face though as she watched them. Now she approached them carefully.

Then she was dropping to sit on the shag carpet in front of Weasel.

“Hello, Weasel, I’m Arya. Can I meet Rabbit, do you think?”

Weasel, usually slow to smile, studied Arya carefully, then grinned brightly, her two bottom missing teeth adding even more charm to her cherubic face. The girl then offered the sleeping baby animal to Arya who took it gently and cradled it against her chest. Weasel moved closer to Arya, petting the animal’s little head.

Gendry’s heart soared. Hot Pie and Lommy had done the impossible. They’d found someone who could actually bond with Weasel, despite her inability to speak.

Not long after, as Weasel napped on the sitting room couch, Gendry and Arya stood in the entry way again.

“So what are the hours like then?” Arya asked nonchalantly, ignoring the fact he hadn’t officially offered her the job yet.

Gendry grinned. “Well I can be flexible with that depending on your schedule. I just got work with the Stark Foundation, and they’re great at working around child care needs.”

Arya blinked up at him three times before she spoke. “Bloody hell. You’re working for my brother?”

It was Gendry’s turn to blink back at her. “Robb Stark is your brother?” He paused. “You’re a Stark?”

She cursed inwardly for letting the fact be known. She knew what was coming next.

“What are you doing looking for a job like this?” He seemed incredulous.

She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “I’m not good with people” was all she provided as explanation.

Gendry stared at her, glanced behind his shoulder at Weasel, then back at Arya.

Arya smiled in spite of herself. “I’m not good with adult people.” She clarified.

“You’re good with me.” Gendry found the words spilling out because they were so true, though his face reddened at his boldness. He wasn’t good with people either, but from the moment he’d met her, there’d been something so familiar about Arya, as if they’d been friends forever already.

Arya’s own face pinkened, but she grinned again. “Or you’re just good with me.” She responded cheekily.

Gendry cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed. “Well, I’m not sure this job pays as well as one at your brother’s company.”

Arya’s face was amused but also unreadable. “I need the experience anyway,” she quipped.

“Alright then,” he smiled happily. “She’s in school between 10 and 2, but you can start earlier or end later. Up to you.”

“Just let me know your ideal work schedule,” she responded, “and I’ll work around it.”

Gendry nodded. “Alright, that doesn’t sound bad.” He paused, wondering if he dare say what came to his mind next. He dared. “Would your schedule happen to have an opening over the weekend for dinner or coffee?”

Arya’s cheeks pinkened again, and he found he liked the effect. But then she responded, “Well I have dinner and coffee everyday.” It took Gendry a moment to realize she was messing with him.

Suddenly the intercom behind them buzzed. “Giuseppe’s Pizza.” A distorted voice said over the intercom.

They looked at each other, then Arya grinned. “I’ve got an opening for pizza right now, if you do.”

Gendry felt slightly tipsy as he grinned back and hung Arya’s sweatshirt back up on the coat rack.

“I’ll see if I can find the time, but I’m pretty sure we can work something out.”

Arya was busy pressing the button that let the pizza man into the gate, but he saw her smirk from the side. Already making herself at home. Gendry liked the thought. In fact, he loved it. “Let’s hope this one’s not a serial murderer either,” Arya murmured, grinning slyly his way.

“Well,” Gendry found himself saying. “You turned out alright.”

“So did you,” and Arya did that wolfish smile Gendry realized he’d already come to like so much.

Imagine meeting Jon Snow. He is drawn to your strength and beauty and over time, he becomes protective of you.

Originally posted by fuckyeahhousestark

“I will protect you.”

“Fight with everything you have. Come back to me alive, Jon Snow.”

A Gem in a Wolf’s Heart: Pt 2

Originally posted by multipleman

Robb Stark and Lady Stark survive the Red Wedding. Talisa/Jeyne died and Robb gets his sisters back, there is a new and better King in Kings landing. The North is independent and the Starks killed everyone that betrayed them. Now you are the gem of the North, your father a great general that promised Catelyn Stark to marry you to Robb Stark so he is to remain King in the North.

Part One   Part Three 

(Y/N) = Your Name

(Y/L/N) = Your Last Name 

Warning: Fat boys

Winterfell is beautiful, the way the snow falls in the trees and especially in the Godswood where you felt most at peace. Your bed room chamber was filled with books and candles so you can read at night. 

You decided to unload the rest of your clothes and place them in the drawers in your chamber. You decided to also were a beautiful dark blue dress and wear your hair in a long braid like Lady Stark. 

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For AryaxGendry week prompt Three Wishes - Aladdin AU pt. 1

So apparently I’ve unintentionally got a Disney theme going for AxG this year. Hope you enjoy, promise to update later this week!

“Hot pies! Hot pies!” The baker’s son shouted.

Gendry’s stomach rumbled loudly when he caught sight and smell of the freshly baked wares. Even his mouth watered, but he forced himself to look away. It’d be bad business to steal from someone who considered him a friend, even if Hot Pie could be irritating at times.

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A Gem in a Wolf’s Heart: Pt 4

Originally posted by exist-in-mind

Robb Stark and Lady Stark survive the Red Wedding. Talisa/Jeyne died and Robb gets his sisters back, there is a new and better King in Kings landing. The North is independent and the Starks killed everyone that betrayed them. Now you are the gem of the North, your father a great general that promised Catelyn Stark to marry you to Robb Stark so he is to remain King in the North.

Part Two Part Three  Part Five 

(Y/N)= Your Name

(Y/L/N)= Your Last Name

Warning: None

You looked at yourself one last time before turning around to look at Sansa. “So, what do you think?” you said, sighing. 

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Jealousy Pt. 4


Robb watched as Arya got into a fight with one of Aegon Targaryen’s men. He couldn’t hear what the two had been talking about, so he didn’t know what had started the fight, though he had a fairly good idea. All Robb knew was that Arya had thrown the first punch. Now she was rolling around on the ground, straddling the man and landing punches where she could. At first, the man didn’t seem to want to hit her back and settled on defending himself, but when Arya hit his nose so hard it started bleeding, the man’s face contorted in rage, and he lashed out.

When the fight had first begun, Robb had been amused. But then he’d met his lady mother’s eyes, and she had mouthed at him desperately to go intervene.

Robb was halfway across the hall when another figure was swiftly accosting Arya. The next moment Gendry was clutching a struggling Arya in his arms while the man cursed at her from where he lay sprawled on the ground, blood pulsing from his now crooked nose.

One cold, threatening look from Gendry later, the man shut up, though he continued glaring daggers Arya’s way. Gendry half-dragged, half-carried Arya away and back toward the high table, toward Robb. She was still struggling, even against Gendry’s arms.

“He was calling you a bastard and a liar and a craven,” Arya snarled over her shoulder at Gendry as they neared Robb.

“Who cares? He’s just sore because I beat him and his little friends in the practice yard.” Gendry tried to reassure her.

As they approached him, Robb grinned. “You gave him a good beating, little sister. Best hope it doesn’t reach the prince’s ears. He won’t be happy to hear you bloodied one of his men.”

Arya’s eyes flashed. “Best hope he doesn’t reach me or he’s next.” Arya snapped. “He’s the one going around telling everyone Gendry didn’t really fight in the war. And he’s saying all Gendry did back then was dishonor me.”

Robb’s cheeks pinked at the implication about his sister, but it was Gendry who responded.

“He’s another one who’s just sore ‘cause he lost to me.” Gendry chuckled to the girl half gathered in his arms. Robb knew he wasn’t referring to the practice yard either.

Robb fell into step with the smith as they headed toward the high table and away from the ruckus.

“Put me down,” Arya finally stopped struggling and just grasped at Gendry’s hands wrapped tight around her middle.

Gendry stopped there in the middle of the hall then. “Only if you promise not to go back and finish him off.” Gendry’s voice was firm, though it hid a laugh.

Arya glared over her shoulder at him. “You’re right,” she finally relented, “he’s not worth it.”

Gendry relaxed his arms around Robb’s little sister, and she slid down to her feet, still leaning against the smith.

“You don’t believe anything they’re saying, do you?” Gendry was leaning down to murmur into her ear.

Arya spun around and punched the smith so hard in the shoulder that he flinched. “Of course not, you stupid!”

“Arya,” Robb warned. “Mother is watching.”

Gendry had caught Arya’s wrists in one hand. “Then what does it matter what they say? As long as you know what’s true.”

Arya groaned in frustration. Heeding Robb’s words, her eyes on the high table, she let her arms drop.

Robb turned to see Catelyn staring sternly at Arya. Catelyn’s eyes met Robb’s. She jerked her head towards Arya, and Robb knew his mother wanted him to escort Arya away before she got into more trouble. When Robb turned back to do so, however, the smith was, as always, ten steps ahead. He had Arya’s elbow in one hand and was leading her out of the hall.

Another pang of impatience colored Robb’s insides. Robb was glad the smith had been close at hand to stop Arya fighting, especially before the other man had managed to retaliate in kind, but he also felt a pinprick of irritation. He’d been on his way to carry his sister off and would have gotten there in enough time. He hadn’t needed Gendry’s interference. Robb shrugged the feeling away. It was good Gendry had been there.

The smith usually was though, before anyone else. Just the week before, Arya had climbed halfway up the broken tower to rescue an injured crow that perched on a broken brick that jutted out and away from the tower. Robb had run with a long rope, up to the castle parapet and along it until he came to the broken tower. He had planned to drop the rope to her so she could tie it around her waist in case she fell. When Robb had gotten to the tower window, the smith had already climbed the tower behind Arya. Gendry had held the injured bird delicately in one hand and climbed down slowly below Arya to catch her in case she fell.

Another time, Arya had gotten into a fist fight with Elmar Frey, one of the hostages that Robb’s lord father Eddard had demanded of the Freys for the assurance that they would not rise against the throne. The man was larger than her and managed to throw in a few good punches that left Arya bruised. Then Gendry had been there, had tugged Arya away from the fray before replacing her fists with his own. Aegon’s man today had only been lucky because he hadn’t had the time to hit Arya back. The Frey boy had been bedridden for weeks. Robb’s father had forgiven the infraction only because Gendry had been coming to Arya’s defense, as much as Arya insisted she hadn’t needed the help.

To put it mildly, when it came to his littlest sister, Robb felt misplaced these days. Ever since she’d finally come back. The Starks had all been so happy to see her, the last of them missing. Arya was alive. That was enough. No one wanted to make her do anything she didn’t want to do lest she run away or disappear again somehow. Be a lady. Be polite, even. Wear a dress. No one made her stay away from the smith either. Soon, before they realized what that really meant, it was too late. Now, Gendry went wherever Arya went, and she didn’t need her big brothers anymore. Like the rest of them, Robb had been surprised that, out of all the Starks, Arya had been the one to come away from the war with a true match.

The next morning, Robb rode out with Gendry, Arya and Rickon, along with a handful of his lord father’s guard, to the wolfswood to ride and hunt. Ned Dayne and Aegon insisted on tagging along. Despite Arya’s obvious proclamation of a choice of suitor on her name day, along with his brother’s legitimization of Gendry, Dayne and the prince both did not seem to be getting the hint. At least not enough to stop pursuing his sister.

Gendry and Rickon led the column side-by-side, followed by Robb and Arya, the rest of them trailing behind. Arya wore her brand new sword, from Gendry, proudly on her hip. Her name day gift from Robb, the bow and arrows, she wore slung over her shoulder.

To Dayne’s obvious pleasure, Arya rode her new sand steed; from where he rode behind them in the column, the boy kept reminding Arya of her promise to race him on the horse.

“A sand steed,” Aegon snorted. “I’ll bet you a hundred gold dragons my courser can beat yours at any race.” The prince challenged the Dayne boy haughtily.

Dayne watched Arya as he spoke. With a chuckle, he said, “I’ll take that wager, but you may as well hand the gold over now.”

Meanwhile, Arya was laughing at something Gendry had just told Rickon and was not paying the slightest attention to the men behind her. Rickon had taken almost as well to the smith as Arya had. Most like because of his experience with Arya, Gendry was good at anticipating Rickon’s wild tantrums or outbursts. Nothing the boy said, no matter how bloody or shocking fazed the smith.

“A stag!” The younger boy shouted excitedly. With that, he bounded off across the open field, digging his heels into his own horse, a spear, one of his only remnants remaining from Skagos, clutched tightly in his right hand.

Gendry turned swiftly toward Arya, as if for permission. “Go,” she urged, and Gendry trotted off after the younger boy.

Robb laughed along with Arya, watching the bull chase the wild wolf. Gendry was still not perfectly accustomed to sitting a horse, and his large size made him look awkward in the saddle.

“When is the wedding, little wolf?” Robb teased Arya so as not to be overheard.

She turned a bright red. “Shut up!”

“Lady Stark and Lord Baratheon.”

“Don’t!” Arya threw a chestnut at him now from her saddlebag. It bounced off his leg. “It’s just Arya. And Gendry. Or stupid, if you want.”

Robb laughed. “I can’t be calling my lady sister stupid.” He protested in jest.

“I meant him,” Arya growled, but started to laugh along with her brother all the same.

“They’re off to kill a stag, and he is a stag.” Robb nodded towards the retreating backs of Gendry and Rickon.

“He’s not a stag. He’s a bull.” Arya protested. “A stupid, stubborn one.”

Robb laughed again. “Aye, that’s more fitting. You’ll be needing a new sigil then.”

Another chestnut got Robb in the side of the head, and he laughed as Arya argued, “I’m still a wolf. Don’t make me prove it.”

“Well, then, little sister. You going to make him take your name and sigil then?”

“And why not?” Arya challenged him, then scoffed. “Who says we have to get married anyway? Mother?”

Robb was almost taken aback. “Don’t you want to?”

Arya was, in turn, taken aback. “What’s the difference? Whether we marry or not, he’s mine.”

Robb laughed now. “Might be the only way to get rid of these buggers.” Robb tossed his head backwards to indicate he meant the prince and Dayne.

Arya spared a moment to frown their way. “We’ll see.” She shot back.

“Ready to race?” She asked the two behind them bluntly.

Both boys rushed forward on their horses.

“Will you give me your favor, my lady?” Dayne winked at Arya, and Robb had to hold back a groan.

Arya just grinned wickedly. “My favor will be not throwing you off your horse, Dayne.”

“To the lake.” Arya commanded.

Robb completed the count. At ten, the three were off, their horses kicking up clots of dirt and grass in their wake.

Robb and his father’s men trotted behind them at a distance. From where he was, Robb could see that Arya had quickly gained the lead. It wasn’t simply that Arya was lighter or knew the terrain better than the other two. She was a true horse woman of the north. She’d been riding since before she could walk.

Slowly, Dayne was gaining on Arya, and Aegon on Dayne. A light mist began then. The morning had been cloudy and the sky had threatened thunder and rain. Arya nearly stood now in her stirrups. She disappeared over a knoll, Dayne and Aegon as well seconds after. Robb raced ahead now, somehow uneasy. Nymeria, Grey Wind and Shaggydog had disappeared to hunt almost immediately after they had left the gates of Winterfell. Robb didn’t like losing sight of his sisters outside of Winterfell. He usually didn’t mind, as long as Gendry or Jon were with her. But Jon was far away in King’s Landing and Gendry had run off after Rickon.

Robb finally crowned the same knoll, to see that Arya and Dayne were neck and neck, Aegon trailing a yard behind.

Suddenly a chill ran down Robb’s back. He felt the shadow approach before he actually saw it. Looking overhead as he rode forward, he saw the unmistakable shape of a large flying beast, obscured by the clouds. Viserion. Ahead, Aegon, looking unconcerned, was slowing his horse to a trot. As the dragon descended, Aegon stood nimbly in his saddle. The dragon neared the three riders. Arya only just then noticed, swiveling sideways in her seat. Her face was one of pure annoyance. Obviously Aegon thought he was being clever; if he managed to mount the dragon, he’d arrive to the lake before the other two with long moments to spare.

Suddenly, as Viserion fanned his wings out to their full width in order to reach the height of Aegon’s horse, Arya’s steed reared. With her eyes still behind her on Viserion, Arya hadn’t been expecting it. She fell sideways in her saddle, losing the reins. She would have tumbled off completely, except her left foot was caught in the stirrup. She hung off the side, her face and hands dragging along the rough terrain until she hoisted herself up as high above it as she could. Robb choked back a breath and spurred his own horse, already foaming at the mouth, forward that he might catch her before she was dragged again or thrown off completely.

Ahead was pure confusion. Aegon didn’t seem to have realized that Arya was in danger. He was swinging himself precariously onto Viserion’s back. Dayne was spurring his own steed, so as to catch up to Arya’s. Dayne was gaining, but on the wrong side of the horse. Were Arya to fall at that moment, Dayne’s steed would trample her. Robb’s own horse began to rear as it got closer to Viserion, who was again beginning to ascend. Aegon, it seemed, had only begun to grasp the consequences he had wrought with his stunt.

Robb kept a tight hold on the reins of his horse, urging it forward. Standing in his own stirrups and leaning forward, he found himself catching up to Arya and Ned Dayne. Dayne was attempting to lean off his own horse and pull Arya back up. Instead, he should have been trying to get control of the horse. Arya was yelling something unintelligible at Ned while, at the same time, trying to lift herself up with only the strength of her middle. Her face was red and scratched from where it had dragged along the tree roots and stones before managing to lift herself up. Her face was pale and twisted in pain, and Robb could now see that her leg was twisted at an unnatural angle.

Worry and anxiety rose in him like an overflowing fountain. If Dayne had not sidled up so close, Arya would have been able to twist back up into her saddle and gain control of the steed. The steed. Robb cursed out loud. He shouldn’t have let Arya race on a horse she was unfamiliar with. This was the first time she’d ridden the beast, so it could not know her, and she could not know the horse.

Dayne finally seemed to have gotten the message and was falling back to swing around Arya’s horse. But Robb had finally gotten there first. He swung his own courser around Arya’s steed and rode side-by-side the steed, leaning over unsteadily until he caught the reins in his gloved hands. Slowly, Robb eased the horse to a trot and then to a stop. Ignoring Dayne’s pleas and request of Arya’s well-being, Robb hoped lithely off his horse, throwing the reins at Jory Cassel, who had been on his heels the entire ride.

“Arya.” Robb’s hoarse voice begged.

She was groaning in pain, hanging directly down off the side of the horse now. “Get. Me. Off.” Arya said through clenched teeth.

Robb circled around her and lifted her torso up. She hissed in pain at the way that movement jostled her leg.

“I’m sorry, love.” He held her close, as Jory untangled her leg from the saddle and stirrups. Arya cursed the entire time, and to his own pain, Robb saw tears streaking her dirt ridden face.

Dayne was at his side now and helped Robb drag Arya down off the horse and to the floor. Arya cried out loudly when her leg hit the floor.

Suddenly, before Robb could stop her, Arya had reached her left arm out and smacked Dayne stingingly across the face. He stepped back in shock, holding one palm up to his red-tinged face. Robb crouched down next to her and held her hand. She squeezed his own hand painfully.

“I told you to get away,” Arya was sobbing and clenching at her knee, toward her ankle, with her right hand. Several of the cuts on her face were bleeding freely, her blood mingling with the salt of her tears and running down her face. “I needed the space to sit up and grab the reins.” She cried out again when she moved her own leg accidentally by shifting where she lay.

“I’m sorry, m’la-.”

“What’s going on?” To his credit, Aegon’s voice was genuinely worried.

“You!” Arya snarled through tears. Though it caused her great pain, Arya wrenched her hand out of Robb’s, reached over her shoulder and nocked an arrow to her bow, quicker than Robb could stop her.

Aegon’s mouth was an ‘o’ of surprise, and he lifted his hands slowly in surrender. Thankfully, he’d left the dragon far behind, else they might all be charred by now.

“What made you think,” Arya said through clenched teeth, “it was a good idea to bring a dragon down on horses?”

“Arya,” Robb said carefully in a low voice. “That’s your prince you’re aiming at. The king wouldn’t be pleased to know it.”

“Jon would do the same,” Arya argued with a glare, but she lowered the bow all the same.

Robb couldn’t say she was wrong.

“I thought you were supposed to be clever.” Arya told Aegon coldly, then looked away as if neither Dayne nor Aegon had ever been there.

“We have to get you back to Maester Luwin, Arya,” Robb urged.

Arya’s eyes were closed now, and fresh tears, from pain more than anything, came pouring from her eyes. She nodded slightly, but when they tried to lift her, so she could ride on Robb’s horse with him, she cried out and clung to the ground.

Robb stared down at her worriedly. “Is it broken or…” He looked anxiously at Jory.

“-dree.” Arya cried incoherently.

Robb crouched quickly down next to his sister, putting an arm comfortingly around her shoulders. “What was that, love?” He grasped her hand again, letting her squeeze it painfully.

“Gendry.” She pleaded. “I want Gendry.” Arya’s face was pale, her teeth clamped down hard, her jaw set.

Robb’s heart stuttered. He kept her hand clasped and stood, looking out across the fields for the smith. How far had he been? Would he have heard the commotion?

“Where’s Gendry?” Arya squeezed Robb’s hand ever harder.

Robb’s brow furrowed and he took a knee again by his sister. “He’s not here, love, and we have to get you back to the castle. It’s going to hurt like hell, but you just squeeze my hand as hard as you have to. Maester Luwin will have milk of the poppy for you as soon as we get there, and all the pain will go away.” Robb tried to comfort her, but knew somehow, it was not enough.

Arya leaned into Robb, but she shook her head. “Gendry.” She repeated. “I need Gendry.”

Suddenly, a racket of noise exploded from deep within the woods behind them. Jory and his men began to unsheathe their swords, but soon three large direwolves were darting out of the thicket. Then, thankfully, Robb saw two more riders barreling through the trees, one his little brother, the other the smith.

Gendry’s eyes were surprised at the sight of them at first, then fearful when he caught sight of Arya cradled in Robb’s arms. The smith was off the horse before it had even stopped galloping; the horse ran off on its own, stopping nearer the middle of the field to graze.

The smith, meanwhile, landed heavily, but was not deterred. He rushed to Arya’s right side and when she saw him, she sighed his name in relief. Robb felt her leave his grasp and curl into Gendry’s.

When he spoke, Gendry’s voice scorched. “What happened?” Gendry held Arya’s head to his chest and his fingers trickled lightly down her leg toward her ankle.

In a low voice, Robb quickly explained why and how Arya had been dragged through an acre or two of land. Without moving, which would have made Arya uncomfortable from pain, Gendry looked up at both the prince and the lord of Starfall with a look that told them he would kill them both if he could. His blue eyes looked afire with fury, and his mouth twitched in anger.

Then Gendry looked back down at the girl in his arms, and his eyes softened. He used the back of his hand to wipe blood that was trickling down Arya’s forehead and towards her eyes.

“You’ll be alright,” he promised her.

“Stupid bull,” Arya muttered into the smith’s jerkin. “Where have you been?”

Gendry chuckled, stroking Arya’s hair. “I leave you alone for five minutes and you go and get yourself nearly killed.”

“My lord,” Jory Cassel spoke, “we should get my lady back to the castle.”

Gendry looked startled when he realized Jory was speaking to him and not Robb. “Can I pick you up?” He asked Arya softly.

Hesitantly, Arya nodded her head.

“Fear cuts deeper than swords,” Gendry murmured softly into her hair. Arya’s lips, previously twisted in pain, tilted into a weak smile.

From beyond, Aegon called out, “I can take her back on Viserion. It’s the quickest way.”

Both Arya and Gendry ignored him, though Robb sent him an appreciative smile.

“If he speaks one more time-.” Arya started.

Gendry silenced her with a kiss to the top of her head. “What will it be, m’lady, dragon or horse?”

“A bull.” She grunted in pain, as he began to lift her up. Robb gently adjusted her leg in Gendry’s arms so it would be more comfortable.

Gendry chuckled. “Dragon it is.”

“Not with him,” Arya moaned into Gendry’s neck.

“Viserion.” Gendry called loudly.

Across the way, the prince flinched. He didn’t like it when Gendry addressed his dragon directly. Nor when Gendry rode either of the other dragons. Nor indeed that all three dragons had taken easily to Gendry and had developed a fondness for him that hardly any others inspired in their reptilian hearts.

A gust of wind blew across them as Viserion floated down from above to land in their midst. The horses all about reared, and Jory and the others struggled to keep them under control. Carrying Arya, Gendry walked gingerly toward the dragon. Aegon appeared at the smith’s side.

“If you hand her up to me, I can-.”

“Gendry’s taking me.” Arya snapped, her voice muffled from where she hid her face in the gap between Gendry’s neck and shoulder.

“As m’lady commands, coz.” Gendry shrugged nonchalantly at Aegon who only had a defeated set of eyes for the woman in the smith’s arms. Though he referred to Aegon as his cousin only to annoy him, there was truth to it, as they were distantly related through Gendry’s great grandmother.

Viserion, who seemed to understand Arya’s precarious condition, crouched low to the ground. With Robb’s help, Gendry clambered over Viserion’s wing and settled Arya into Aegon’s saddle. Robb and Gendry secured Arya’s leg against Viserion’s side so it wouldn’t shift while up in the air. Gendry settled into the saddle behind her and wrapped one arm around her.

As Robb turned to go, Arya grasped his hand tightly. “No.” She mumbled. “You too, Robb. Please.”

Robb was surprised at the plea, though it also warmed him to know his sister still needed him sometimes. “Of course, little one.”

Robb glanced at Gendry who blinked a smile at him. “It’ll be safer to have you in front, so she don’t move around a lot too.” Gendry agreed.

Robb gave orders for Jory and the other men to take his, Arya’s and Gendry’s horses back to Winterfell with them. He argued for a few moments with Rickon who wanted to ride with them desperately and refused to get back on his horse until he could; it wasn’t until Aegon promised to take Rickon flying on Viserion once they got back that the younger boy sullenly agreed to get back on his horse, though Shaggydog’s hackles were raised by then.

Robb once more ensured that Arya and her smith were secure in the saddle before picking up the dragon’s heavy reins.

Sōvēs.” Gendry uttered from behind. The Valyrian word for fly, Robb knew. He’d seen both Jon and Dany fly often enough to remember.

Soon they were soaring, and Robb could see the towers of Winterfell’s castle in the close distance. His belly swooped when he looked down, Viserion’s wings jarring him as the dragon turned toward the castle. His sister’s small hands gripped the top of his cloak. Robb reached one hand up to his shoulder and covered her warm hand with his.

Soon, they were landing in the castle courtyard. Robb helped Gendry lift Arya from the saddle, gingerly so as not to jostle her leg. Even then, she flinched and cursed several times. Finally, they made it up to Maester Luwin’s tower where the maester tutted at them and muttered under his breath about Arya’s recklessness.

Robb clapped the maester on the back. “No more reckless than Jon and me at her age.”

Maester Luwin scoffed. “Much more.” As he gathered herbs to make a poultice for the pain, he went on to recount the last several times, all in the past week, that he’d healed Arya in some way.

Across the room, Gendry was slowly coaxing Arya into drinking the small cup of milk of the poppy Luwin had thrust into his hands. Robb helped the maester gather what he needed, helped him grind the herbs into the paste. Now Gendry was using a cool, wet cloth to wipe the dirt and blood from Arya’s face. She was smiling somewhat now, if still a bit pained.

Only moments later, Luwin was shooing both Gendry and Robb out of his chambers. He gave them two large bowls to fill with the snow that refused to melt outside of the castle gates.

Robb followed Gendry down the tower steps, both of them taking the stairs two at a time in the rush to get the ice to soothe Arya’s ankle.

As they walked side-by-side across the courtyard, Robb glanced at Gendry only to see him looking uncertain, as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

“She’ll be alright.” Robb assured him.

Gendry glanced Robb’s way as if surprised he’d said anything. “Thank you.” His voice was gruff when he spoke.

It was Robb’s turn to be surprised. “For what?” He blurted.

“I mean…” With the hand that was not holding the bowl, Gendry clutched the back of his neck almost nervously. “For saving her. You stopped her horse.”

Robb almost bit back that of course he’d saved her, she was his little sister, but knew Gendry hadn’t meant it that way. Gendry also looked incredibly pained when he said, “She could have been killed.”

Robb felt pity for the haunted look in Gendry’s eyes. “Aye, but it’d take a lot more than a stupid Dornishman and a dragon to finish her off.”

Gendry couldn’t help but chuckle. “I hope so.” He responded, but his eyes darkened again. “I should have been there. She should’ve known better than to race a horse she’s never ridden before.”

Robb silently agreed on that last point, but out loud, he said. “It’s not your fault, Gendry. Once she puts her mind to something, it’s impossible to talk her out of it.”

As they crossed over the moat and towards the forest, a handful of his father’s guards shadowed them. Under his father’s orders, none of the Starks were to leave the castle grounds without protection.

Gendry had that stubborn look on his face that he got when Arya was arguing with him about something particularly stupid. “It’s still my fault.” His face was twisted almost in confusion. He hesitated before saying, “If I hadn’t waited this long to ask for her hand…” He glanced sideways at Robb almost worriedly as he spoke. “These bloody buggers would have cleared off by now.”

Robb snorted with laughter. Gendry joined in.

Using the cups Luwin had given them along with the bowls, Gendry and Robb shoveled snow into the bowls silently for a few moments.

Robb thought hard before he spoke. “Is it marriage for a certainty then?”

Gendry got that pained look again. “If she’ll have me.” The smith paused in his shoveling, hesitating again before speaking. “I wanted everyone’s blessing first…”

Robb blinked at him, as he packed the snow down into the bowl so he could fit more.

Gendry spoke again before he could. “I mean, I’d ask your father first, but…what I mean to say is…I’d want all of your blessings. I think it would mean a lot to her.” Gendry finally looked away, scooping more snow into his cup.

Robb looked away too. He was conflicted, one part happy for his sister and the smith, another part apprehensive. “Will you move her to Storm’s End with you?” He said suddenly. Though it had been a few years now, it still felt as if he’d only just gotten his sister back.

Gendry gawked at him. “St- Storm’s End?” Gendry looked genuinely concerned now. “Will your father make us go there if we marry?”

“Of course not.” Robb now felt one part confused, one part amused and another part relieved. He laughed. “Don’t you want to claim your land?”

Gendry shook his head vehemently. “It’s Edric who knows the land, the castle and the people, not me. It should go to him. If he ever comes back.” Gendry looked apprehensive now as they stood to deliver the snow back to Luwin. “I’d go if Arya wanted to, but she never would. The North is her home. I could never take that away from her. Not for a whole kingdom.”

Robb smiled brightly. It had been the right thing to say. “Well, then, Gendry. You have my blessing.” Robb paused, unsure if he should go on. Then, “You’re a good man, Gendry. I’m glad my sister found you.”

Gendry looked self-conscious. “And I, her.”

Robb grinned sideways at the smith. “When will you ask her?”

“Tonight, if it means the bloody prince and Dayne will leave right away.”

They shared a laugh as said prince and lord trotted up the Kingsroad towards them and the castle, both looking the worse for wear and completely downtrodden.

“What are you two smiling about?” Arya asked suspiciously when they re-entered the maester’s chambers, snow in hand.

“At the beating you’re going to give those two idiots later when you’re better,” Robb said, making Gendry and Arya laugh. Even the maester cracked a smile as he scattered snow delicately over Arya’s ankle so as to bring down the swelling.

“Who says I’m going to wait?” Arya growled.

They laughed again, but Gendry said, “I do,” as he smoothed her hair back away from her face and took her hand in his, hoping to distract her from the pain Luwin was causing by probing her ankle.

As Robb went to inform his mother of Arya’s injury, he watched the two interact. Arya’s eyes softened almost every time she looked at the smith, unless he was the cause of her ire. And the smith, in kind, looked at the girl as if she was the only thing that existed. Yes, Robb was glad Gendry had come into her life. He wondered if he should warn the rest of his family the smith would be visiting them very soon with a surprising request. No, he smiled, he’d let them find out on their own.

  • what she says: i'm fine
  • what she means: game of thrones has become a horrible, non-canonical, misogynistic fan fiction of ASOIAF, D&D are completely obliterating the plotlines of the characters we love and leaving them with husks of their former selves doing totally OOC things that will probably have disastrous effects on the coming seasons, and offering us disgusting rapes and sexist tropes and child burnings for shock value to make up for cut story arcs that were actually important and good and meaningful, i want Shireen safe at the Wall and Arianne and Jeyne Poole and Barristan Selmy alive and Griff and Young Griff and SANSA IN THE VALE. GODS WHY IS SANSA NOT IN THE VALE EATING LEMON CAKES. I THOUGHT THE WORST THAT WOULD HAPPEN TO HER THIS SEASON WAS SOME UNWANTED KISSING FROM BAELISH BUT I WAS SO WRONG. SO WRONG.
A Gem in a Wolf’s Heart: Pt 5

Originally posted by stormborn

Robb Stark and Lady Stark survive the Red Wedding. Talisa/Jeyne died and Robb gets his sisters back, there is a new and better King in Kings landing. The North is independent and the Starks killed everyone that betrayed them. Now you are the gem of the North, your father a great general that promised Catelyn Stark to marry you to Robb Stark so he is to remain King in the North.

Part Three  Part Four 

(Y/N)= Your Name

(Y/L/N)= Your Last Name

Warning: Shit is about to go down ladies and gents! 

It was the day of your wedding, you never felt more nervous. In the morning, Robb went off with his men and guards to hunt for the feast, you can imagine Robb being nervous as well. You pace around the room, a tub filled with warm steaming water. 

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