Come closer, I have a secret to tell you… It's very, very, very likely we'll never read the full ending to this story written by Martin. And even if we did, I don't think there's anything wrong with imagining and fantasizing about how the story could continue in the future, or what it would have been like with a time jump, etc.

Sorry, let's get serious. I wouldn't mind if Arya had more experiences. In fact, I would prefer it. Sure, Gendrya is the endgame of my heart, but they're not together right now. They've never even straight up said they like each other.

If the story continued with a time jump, I'd love to read about Arya spending her adolescence in Braavos, growing up, having stories. For example, I really like the idea of ​​her having a relationship with Denyo Terys, perhaps during the journey back to Westeros, because I loved the Salty chapter.

I also enjoy the idea of ​​Arya falling in love with Willow. They're so similar, I think it would be hilarious and incredibly sweet.

Gendry is my "problem." I realize it may be unrealistic, but I see him as very much a "virgin until the right person comes". I can't explain it, maybe it's his bad temper. Maybe it's the contrast with Robert that makes me like the idea. Or maybe it's the reversal of gender roles expectations.

Nan takes it in stride, though. “I’ve been called worse,” she says, shrugging and not elaborating. He supposes even Nan is a nickname so he lets it drop. But he wonders what it’s short for. She’d only ever been introduced as Nan before, and he’s not a native English speaker, but he’s pretty sure Nan is not it’s own name. He had thought it meant grandmother until Nan had grinned and told him it didn’t have to be.

She’s not salty at all. Well, not really. She is sweet, and manages to charm all the passengers, which can be quite a trial, especially when they are trapped on the runway at JFK for two hours before they can even take off and half of them don’t speak English and her Italian is good--good enough to have been put on this route--but not native. She’s good with people. Another thing Yorko probably takes issue with. He likes to be the charmer.

Denyo wonders where she learned it. She had to have spoken it to be put on the Rome route at all, but she didn’t go to college and she’s from Wisconsin.

She doesn’t say much about herself. Another thing that probably annoys Yorko. She listens and watches and laughs but she chews her lip and sidesteps questions about home, or even why she became a stewardess. Denyo reminds himself she is entitled to her privacy, even though there is no such thing as privacy on a plane, not with the people they’ve seen sneaking into the bathroom for a quickie or people talking too loudly to their neighbors and thinking no one else is listening, or even just sitting next to one another during takeoff and landing.

He’s invited her over for dinner after flights before. She had smiled, and kissed his cheek and told him some other time, but there never was another time.  Denyo wonders if she’s lonely sometimes.  And then he wonders if he’s projecting his own loneliness onto her.  

Ternesio seemed a little nervous as she boarded with the greeting “Valar Morghulis.”

“Valar dohaeris,” he replied.

Everybody on board seemed to look at her strangely, everybody but Denyo. It did not seem to matter to him that she never said farewell to him last time. He greeted her with a smile and as they cleaved through the waters he told her of everywhere they had been. She liked that he wasn’t craven, she liked that he was still her friend.

“Do you wish to make other journeys?” he asked her.

Arya shook her head. “I have seen enough.”

He did not seem to understand that. Arya did not blame him. There was a time she would have thought it strange too but now all she wanted was her chance to return to Jon, to go home and hope it might be rebuilt.

“Come with me,” Denyo urged her as they neared the port.

Arya let him take her hand and lead her. They climbed together up to the crow’s nest as they had once before. Denyo pointed and Arya could see they were approaching land. She took a deep breath, telling herself she would be strong. She was a wolf, she was a wolf for true now and wolves were not afraid.

“You will be leaving us soon,” Denyo told her as they drew ever closer and those below began to prepare to dock. He sounded a little sad.

Arya gave him a smile, a true smile.

“I can say farewell this time.”

Denyo blinked at her.

“Are you certain you will not travel the sea again?”

Arya looked at him and fought an urge to chew her lip.

“Nothing is certain.”

Arya had learned that. It made him smile.

“We may meet again.”

Arya knew she needed to climb down, Denyo’s father was calling them. Before she left she leaned close and pressed her lips to Denyo’s cheek. He went very red.

“Farewell Denyo.”