a real nightmare,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it twists and turns, it's a weight that does not leave his chest, as if chained to his reputation, knowing the persona he offers the world is the one he must always be now. the soldier, the fighter, righteous man, he is all of it, true but he's more than that, steve does not get lost in it : he's a kid from brooklyn, someone that does not think that rules are what matters, there's a compass he follows, something about right and wrong. [ YOU ALWAYS STAND BACK UP ] it had not mattered then that he was sick and frail, it still does not matter now that he is strong and healthy : he'll always stand back up.

ARYA STARK APPRECIATION MONTH Day 22: humorous and soft moments

❛ a drink—? ❜ t' say his eyebrows 'ave gone upwards into his hairline would've been an understatement, though gendry tries, for all his might, t' not show his expressions as much. he reckons he didn't much succeed. s' one o' his biggest flaws, the ones he'd never much tried to correct, since he was a child. if tobho mott had been here, surely he'd knocked gendry head over from the lack o' manner. he isn't, though. master mott had passed years ago, a year in fact, after gendry's return to king's landing once he's escaped dragonstone. so much had changed since the last time.

he had grown. and, as he's slowly learning, so has she.

gendry's movement afterwards is slow. as if he's still tryin' to wrap the thought of her bein' anythin' more than the scrawny li'l princess he has had to keep safe, though of course, as soon as the memory comes, something sharp comes with it. that night in the cave. her teary request. his rejection o' it. you wouldn't be my family. you would be m'lady. and the day after. the day he was sold. the day he'd been taken away, ripped from her, only t' learn later that she'd never made it back to robb stark and the north bannermen. that she'd died. she must've had, 'cause there was no news of arya stark any longer; she'd died, and gendry's wrongdoing had died with her.

until she showed up years later, sittin' here right now, 'cross from him. bright, grey eyes and the very same dark hair, though longer.

she's different, he thinks. though of course she would be. it's years between them since. she's grown. she's grown, gendry tries hammerin' that into his head, numb. and, as it stands, she's old enough for a proper drink, is she ? funny, that. he grabs for the wine, somethin' sweet he wouldn't had otherwise — nor cared to, if he were honest — and pours it for her.

❛ you sure ye' aren't too short for it, m'lady ? with tha' size... ❜

there is an unfamiliar feeling in her chest, [ similar to when she’d found out her family was not lost. ] relief.   is what she soon realised it was.   he was dead,   she had come to accept.   dragged away from her,   sold and never to be seen again.  another person to add to her list of people to grieve.   she had thought the world was playing another cruel joke on her.   seeing hot pie again,     the information that jon,   sansa and bran were all alive and okay.   now gendry.   part of her is waiting,   waiting and preparing for her to wake up,   alone in the woods,    it all have had being a dream.   i could be your family.   the words rung in her head now,   she had never begged for much in her life.   but at that moment she would have done anything to stay with gendry.   takes the cup of wine and gulps a decent amount,    can’t help but appreciate the taste,   all she had drank for years was ale that tasted like piss and water that didn’t quite quench her thirst.

❛ you know,   hot pie called me pretty when he saw me. ❜     her tone is light,   brow cocks.   ❛ but it’s nice to see your skills of observation have only grown these past few years. ❜   now,   she takes a moment to look at him,   truly look at him.   he was always handsome,   she’d always known that,    but the years had been kind to him,   growing into his looks.    ❛ i always knew you were more brawn than brains. ❜     another realisation,   she is joking,    playful even.    something she couldn’t remember the last time she had done.