#:mlady

as m'lady commands | a fanmix for m'lady high 

you see her when you close your eyes maybe one day you'll understand w h y everything you touch surely dies.

The beer was almost too thick for Gendry to stomach, but he drank it down anyway, his tongue quickly acclimating to the yeasty taste and his brain beginning to fog.  He was on his third...fourth?  Maybe it was his fifth that evening...he'd lost count as he got more desperate, more drunk, and more angry. How many days...weeks...fortnights, even...had he been looking for her? Riding out when Beric told him to stay, hollering her name into the woods that answered with naught but the gentle chirp of the birds.  That day had been just as bad.  He'd ridden until he thought his arse would fall off and he lost his voice, combing over the small town before he finally settled in the end, brooding, handing off the last of his silver for a room and as many flagons of ale as he could drink.  A pretty young thing had tried to catch his eye when he came in but he'd ignored her, sitting down and brooding by himself, just the way he liked it. Damn it; how could he have let her go?  She'd stood there -- desperate and just as alone as he was, and he'd chosen the Brotherhood.  She had nobody.  But he didn't either, and Beric and the Brothers were somewhere for him to belong, something for him to do to better the realm, for him to become more than just a stupid bastard boy who knew how to swing a hammer and forge steel.  She could've been his home and her his.   But the Brotherhood was a home too, he told himself.  Seven hells, Gendry -- what've you done? She's gone run off and got stolen by the Hound.  She's probably dead...or with her family.  Gods-only know, and you're still lookin'.  She don't want to be found.  And why the hells are you still lookin'?  You made your choice -- live with it.  She's gone. A flurry of brown hair caught his eye and he turned, his vision blurring and head spinning slightly, making him feel as though he were going to be sick.  He'd never had so much to drink before...he squinted in the direction of the movement, trying to get his mind to solidify the blurred shapes around him.  Short...skinny...just like he remembered.  She'd be grown now, a proper lady, with longer hair...He could see her clearly in his mind's eye, standing before him wearing that same stubborn expression, her arms crossed against her chest, eyes blazing and he smiled...but the mirage faded and it wasn't her...just some grey-eyed serving wench wanting to know if he wanted more beer.  Anger flooded through him; how many times had he seen the same mirage, his hope flourishing before he came crashing back down to earth?  He wasn't even sure why the hells he even cared so gods-damned much.  She was short, annoying, spiteful, and had never been nothing but an arseload of trouble since he had been stuck with her. "Fuck the beer," he growled, knocking his own tankard over and watching her jump.  "Fuck the beer, fuck this tavern, fuck her, fuck everythin'.  She's gone, and there ain't no findin' 'er, and fuck everyone in here."  He rose, full of anger at himself more than anything, and knocked down his chair.  His head was reeling and his blood boiling.  He should just give up; why the fuck should he even care about her?  She ran, he chose...it didn't fucking matter.  He took several long strides across the hall, unaware of the whispers that followed him outside.   The air was cool and helped to clear his head a bit and he leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, surprised to feel tears rushing down his cheeks.  He hadn't much cried since he'd been a lad.  He swiped at them furiously and let out a snarl.  No, it shouldn't even matter; she was a lady -- what sort of home would they have had together anyways?  Living with the brotherhood?  Finding her brother or her mother and him being stuck in the forge for the rest of his life, bending the knee to her and her lord brothers?  Always calling her 'm'lady', never Arry?  Arya, he corrected himself as he felt a twinge of pain in his chest.  Her name was Arya.   "Gods be good, 'M sorry.  'M so fuckin' sorry. 'S all my fault."