
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9145336.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Fandom:
      Game_of_Thrones_(TV), A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin
  Relationship:
      Arya_Stark/Gendry_Waters
  Character:
      Arya_Stark, Davos_Seaworth, Gendry_Waters, Jon_Snow, Daenerys_Targaryen
  Additional Tags:
      possibly_underage, Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence
  Series:
      Part 8 of Star_Ships:_Best_Non-canon_Couples_of_TV_and_Film
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-01-01 Words: 2982
****** Game of Thrones (3): The Wolf and The Bull ******
by Madzie2000
Summary
     Gendry travels in a small group: himself, Ser Davos Seaworth and a
     woman they do not know. Gendry only suspects the woman's identity;
     when he guesses correctly they arrive together at Castle Black to
     live seemingly normal lives. But things can change...
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
Gendry had been travelling with Ser Davos Seaworth for just over a week when
they came across a woman in the North. By the time the strange woman had
‘officially’ joined their crusade to reach Jon Snow, Daenerys Targaryen had
seized the Iron Throne and killed Cersei Lannister before the people she had
oppressed. Needless to say nobody was upset by her death but Jaime and her
children. In the end, Daenerys spared only the ex-Queen’s children. The
stranger wouldn’t show her face or speak, so they would ask her yes or no
questions and she would respond with a nod or a shake.
“Did you live in the North?”Gendry asked her as they got closer to Castle
Black, a mere speck in the distance.
 She gave a nod.
“Did you ever see the nobility?” Davos added.
He received a nod and a pointed finger. The finger pointed to the castle.
“Jon Snow?” Gendry asked as they got out into the open, edging away from the
forest.
 She nodded quickly and excitedly which made Gendry laughed.
“Why won’t you tell us who you are my dear?” Ser Davos asked quickly, hoping to
delve further into her honesty “We’ve told you who we are so why not return the
kindness?”
“Leave her Ser Davos,” Gendry said with a ridiculously wide grin “we should do
as M’lady commands.”
The woman stormed toward Gendry and pushed him over into the snow with a loud
crunch. As soon as she ripped off the scarf covering her face his jaw went
slack in shock. He didn’t actually think he was right, but who else had a sword
of Valyrian Steel?
“I’ve told you a thousand times Gendry,” Arya said as she sucked in the cold
Northern air “don‘t call me M’lady.”
In his own lightning fast reminiscence of the first time she had said that, he
only had the mind to nod with a vacant stare.
“Well don’t sit there looking stupid, get up,” she said in a hurry.
“I’m sorry,” Gendry said in exasperation as he stood “who’s the ass that came
running to us and said nothing for over a month? No ‘Hello Gendry, I‘m alive’
at all? Since we got separated back with the Brotherhood I’d been thinking you
were dead and here you are having a bark at me for calling you M’lady!”
Arya was still holding on to her stubborn side and made a face that Gendry
couldn’t take seriously. He turned before he could laugh at Arya’s expression
and kept walking. Arya did and said nothing until they were at the gate waiting
to be let in. She grabbed hold of his arm and tugged on it, waiting for him to
turn and look at her. When he seemingly refused she lowered her voice to a
whisper and aimed her mouth at his ear, praying to the Old and New Gods in her
mind that Ser Davos would not hear.
“I missed you too Gendry.”
It took all of Gendry’s willpower not to hug her. If he did Gods know what the
King in the North might do to him. He hadn’t done anything worth punishing of
course, but it isn’t hard to assume a relationship between two people simply by
looking. This was a risk he wasn’t willing to take and he’d hate to end up
without his head.
“Arya,” Gendry said in a low voice “go ahead of us.”
Despite wanting them to be seen as equals, Arya knew that it wasn’t the norm in
society. She was – technically – a lady and Gendry was a bastard. He would
always be lower than her and Ser Davos was just the same. As Arya continued
forward through the gates, pairs of eyes followed her and her strange
travelling companions. They were all tan for a start, which made the men
suspicious. The fact that a Highborn Lady of Arya’s age could travel alone with
men only left them to wonder which Gods she prayed to at night. A man clad in
black furs with a sword at his hip descended the stairs ahead of them and
waited. When Arya was a couple of metres away Jon Snow knelt down and hugged
his little sister close to his chest. Ser Davos and Gendry couldn’t hear what
Arya had said to Jon, but it wasn’t hard to guess considering what answer he
gave.
“Aye,” he said as he pushed her back to look at her face “if you want them to
they can.”
Arya hugged her brother a second time and then he motioned for Ser Davos and
Gendry to follow them up the stairs. In the hall he could learn of his sister’s
life and find the two men who had brought her home safely a place they too
could call home. It was only fair.
 
One Week Later...
 
Ser Davos was easily placed in the position of training new recruits of the
Night’s Watch. While he could only deliver speeches about tactics, Jon felt
that it was a good skill nonetheless. The physical training was taught by Davos
as well, but he would instead have another young man perform the tasks he
instructed. He was like a puppet master pulling on strings, albeit none of them
were ever easy. On a few occasions he had stunned Jon Snow and the other men by
telling the ‘boy’ he’d done it wrong and – out of pure frustration – did the
manoeuvres himself. Gendry on the other hand was busy working in a forge where
he belonged. Their last Blacksmith was almost literally on his last leg and
Gendry was young. He had his strength and his looks which might get him a
decent girl in the North. And so that is what he decided; when he found a
replacement for himself he would leave and take a wife. There was somebody he’d
had in mind for some time, but she didn’t think of him in that way. She had
said she would be Gendry’s family but she couldn’t have understood what that
meant for her. That was why he told her she would be M’lady – because a
noblewoman couldn’t be anything more than that and he couldn’t be anything more
than a bastard. It was hard to work without a shirt on because of the cold, so
Gendry had slowly gotten used to working in a thin over shirt to keep out the
worst of the wintery chills in the North. Arya hadn’t seen him since her
brother had asked of her adventures while they ate in the hall and assigned him
to the forge. The entire time she was stealing glances in his direction and
spinning her tale like yarn.  While it seemed to be mere analysis in the
beginning, Arya’s glances turned slowly into stares and mayhap she got lost in
his face on a few occasions. Gendry had been so lost in thought over Arya that
he hadn’t noticed her waltz into the forge to watch him work metal into swords,
arrows, armour and many other things.
“What are you working on this evening, Ser Gendry?” Arya said politely with a
cheeky smile.
 “M’Lady’s armour,” Gendry said with an equally mischievous grin “but only she
can tell me if it’s good enough or not.”
“Show it to me,” Arya said in a rush of excitement.
Gendry smiled and handed her a small pair of gauntlets he had made earlier that
day. She fastened them over her lower arms and found to her delight that they
were a perfect fit.
“You’re amazing Gendry.”
“Thank you M’lady.”
Arya looked around and noticed that the chest plate, chainmail and other
important parts of her newest ‘kit’ were amiss.
“What happened to the rest of it?” Arya asked as Gendry turned around to look
back at his work. a few droplets of sweat trickling down his temple.
Using a rag she had kept in a concealed pocket – of her own design no less – at
her waist, Arya slowly moved her hand up to wipe them away. While Jon had
allowed her to remain in male-orientated clothing, what she wore now was of a
higher quality and had no holes, so finding a place for the pocket had proven
difficult. The fabric touched Gendry’s cheek and he let himself get lost in the
feeling of a small feminine hand on him. God’s know he’d been waiting for it.
“I’m still making – Arya what in the Seven are you doing?” Gendry said loudly
as he snatched up her hand and the ragged handkerchief.
“Never do that again,” he said in a deep, forceful tone.
“Or what... you’ll kiss me?” Arya retorted quickly.
Gendry bent over a little and leaned in toward Arya’s face.
“No!” Gendry practically shouted “Not even if you begged me.”
“Arya,” Jon called from the doorway of the forge as Gendry roughly released her
arm “go back to your room before I lock you in.”
His eyes followed her until she was out of earshot, then the range of a bow and
arrow. When Jon was sure Arya was gone, he stared hard at Gendry.
“How could you do that?” Jon said in his deep voice.
“Do what?”
“Be so rude to her? Isn’t it obvious that Arya has feelings for you?”
“Yes. But I‘m a bastard and Ladies can’t marry bastards.”
“You forget who you’re talking to.”
“You know what I mean Lord Snow,” Gendry said as he dropped a tool onto his
workbench “I can’t get her hopes up.”
“Gods Gendry! She’s a little girl,” Jon said in an almost fatherly way “Let her
dream.”
“She’s killed men and women,” Gendry said as anger threatened to overpower his
mind “so what’s going to stop her from trying to get in bed with somebody?”
Jon had no answer.
“I’m going to need measurements for Arya’s chest plate,” Gendry said in a
calmer tone of voice “So perhaps you could ask Lady Sansa to get them for me?”
Jon shook his head.
“Why are you making me measure up a Lady?” Gendry said in a small panic “Are
you trying to make me dishonour Arya?”
“No,” Jon said honestly “because dishonouring means you don’t have any rights
to her; as the only man to steal her heart what else gives you the right?”
“Being married to her perhaps?” Gendry said with the utmost sarcasm.
Jon smiled and nodded.
“Your choice Ser,” Jon said as he turned to walk away “now or later – either
way you have my permission!”
Gendry’s jaw dropped as he watched Jon stalk his way back to the stony walls of
the hall and left his field of view. Now he was sure he had been dreaming. His
permission... his blessing on the relationship he and Arya possibly wanted to
have? Had Jon Snow gone mad? Gendry realised that he had lost focus and went
right back to his hammering. He was going to guess Arya’s measurements and that
would be that. He wouldn’t have to worry about her for at least another –
Gendry heard footsteps and his heart sank – ten seconds.
“What were you and Jon talking about?” Arya said as she re-entered the forge.
“You and me,” he answered honestly while silently hoping Arya wouldn’t ask
anything more of him.
“It was nothing special.”
“What about you and me?” Arya asked quickly.
Gendry knew she wouldn’t give up so easily and dropped his tools (for a second
time) onto the bench.
“We can marry, okay?” Gendry shouted to shut Arya up.
It worked well enough, but Arya seemed to think that Gendry also needed to shut
up, because she strolled over to him casually and pulled his head down toward
hers. She kissed his cheek and he said nothing, even as her arms moved around
his back and held him tightly. Gendry lifted Arya’s feet from the floor in one
fell swoop and carried her into his small room, setting her down on the bed
with one of his hands resting on her hip.
“There was something else,” Gendry said as he kept his eyes trained on Arya’s
face.
“What?” she said aloud, quickly gathering her thoughts.
Before he said it Arya realised what Gendry was trying to say.
“Jon gave me his blessing for us to marry but there was something else...”
The more Gendry thought about it, the more he wanted to scream. Here was his
chance to be with Arya and he was the one with cold feet.
“You mean we can share a bed?” Arya said with a serious look on her face.
Gendry nodded and the hand on her hip darted away. Arya pulled on it and
manoeuvred herself so that she could sit in Gendry’s lap, a lump growing in his
throat.
“Arya,” he said sternly “You understand what this means don’t you? I might
leave you with a baby.”
Arya was almost offended.
“So you don’t plan on marrying me then?” she teased as her hands made their way
to the back of his head “That’s a shame.”
As Arya’s hands reached his hair, Gendry made the choice. It was now or never.
His head lunged forward and his lips covered hers, their tongues engaging in a
lust-filled dance. This encounter was inevitable: years of pent up feelings and
sexual desire had taken all reason from them. No matter the cost they would be
in one another’s arms by the end of the night. Gendry was quick to undo the
laces of Arya’s britches but he was more than nervous about invading her
privacy this way after having only dreamt of a moment like this. Arya kissed
Gendry’s neck and slid a hand down to the laces on his britches, keeping her
mouth close to his ear as she opened the fabric and sat back.
“What are you doing?” Gendry said as a small hand ran up his thigh.
“This is going too slowly,” she whispered “so I’m helping you.”
Satisfied with the answer, Gendry pulled off his shirt and relieved Arya of
hers before they stood to get rid of one another’s britches. Arya went first;
her hands were a little shaky but she determined to prove that she wasn’t a
child anymore. Gendry’s britches hit the floor with a soft plop, Arya’s eyes
drawn downward as he pressed her close to him for a searing kiss. When they
broke apart she allowed herself a small laugh.
“What?” Gendry said in confusion as he looked down at his cock.
“You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Neither have you,” he replied.
His hands found Arya’s hips and pulled gently at the fabric. Unable to help
himself, Gendry kneeled and kissed the hollow of Arya’s right hip when it was
exposed. He pulled them down to her toes and kissed a trail up her ribs, over
her chest, up her neck and ended it at her jaw. Arya’s closed eyes opened up
and she hungrily kissed Gendry. He lifted Arya off of her feet and she wrapped
them around his waist. Arya felt the rough grab of Gendry’s hands on her back
as he sat himself on the edge of the bed, his legs over the side to keep Arya
steady on his thighs. His erection was pressed between them and the pressure
was killing him. With a care that only came from owning feminine hands, Arya
positioned herself above Gendry’s cock and lowered herself down onto it. She
was slow at first because of the pain that came from being a maid, but with her
hand entwined with Gendry’s, she managed to get through it. Now they were one
in every way possible (besides marriage). Arya began to rock her hips forward
and back as the pain subsided, Gendry’s hands sitting on her hips. He knew for
a fact that Arya was getting past the pain he had caused her but Gods did this
feel right. They were together and their marriage would be the last thing on
the checklist to make their lives complete. Gendry began to move his hips
upward in time with Arya, her moans and the feeling of her body around him
making it impossible not to moan right back. For a while it seemed as though
Arya would find her end first, but Gendry’s thrusts faltered as his hands
grabbed her hips tightly. He was still for a moment, watching Arya’s disgusted
expression.
“What was that?” she panted out in horror.
“Me trying to give you a baby to look after once we’re man and wife,” Gendry
smiled.
Arya smiled and kissed him hard, her body aching for him. Taking the hint,
Gendry laid Arya on her back and began thrusting into the petite body beneath
him wildly. She had given him what he wanted so it was only fair that he give
her the same treatment. Arya gave a small cry and Gendry felt the muscles in
her body clench around his cock. When it was done they fell asleep in one
another’s arms... And then he woke up in his bed attached to the forge, the
room black with the darkness of the late night at Castle Black. Gendry’s
britches looked like a small tent. If only he could marry Arya Stark and share
a bed with her. But he knew it would never happen – her only love was battle
and she harboured a minor fascination with the man who had helped them escape
Harrenhall. The look on his face became a mixture of delight and horror when he
felt a hand creep over his chest. He kissed the hand and a fully nude Arya
leaned closer to Gendry with a smile. She kissed him fully on the lips and let
him pull her close to his chest. So it hadn’t been a dream... but Gendry still
wandered about the mysterious assassin named Jaqen H’gar.
End Notes
     I am currently on school holidays and have written multiple Harry
     Potter chapters ahead of the next GOT 'entry' which involves Arya and
     Jaqen H'gar. As I know little about them I have done some research
     and it is now in progres..
     I am planning to study creative writing in the future so I need
     genuine feedback on what I've given you, even if it is a sentence or
     two.
     CHEERS, ENJOY THE YEAR AND GOD BLESS!
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