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~That Arizona sky burning in your eyes
He was a tiny, skinny thing, but had a rage burning in his eyes that no little child ought to have. Gendry observed from the sidelines as the boy held up a thin sword, threatening the fat boy and his friend.
Eventually, as the days passed, he found the grief hidden under the rage, and held on when Arry's little body rocked with quiet sobs.
~You look at me and, babe, I wanna catch on fire
He was by the hearth, surrounded by steam and smoke and drenched in sweat and soot. His ashy shirt was unlaced at the top, giving her a peek of the rippling muscles underneath. His blue eyes ran all over her, and she found herself heating up under his gaze.
And when he smashed an axe into the wooden log with a resounding thud, it was as if her body was on fire.
~It's buried in my soul like California gold
You found the light in me that I couldn't find
He didn't deserve this. A wife he loved, and now a babe.
Their babe.
A babe they made out of love, their little girl. She was so tiny, with her dark hair and button nose and blue eyes. His eyes, that he had passed on to her. Ten little fingers and ten little toes so perfect, they made him tear up.
She was perfect. She was just perfect.
Watching Arya feed their daughter brought out feelings that were buried deep inside his soul.
It was terrifying. He wanted to hold her close, protect her from the world and to smash with his hammer anyone who hurt her. But he also wanted her to be independent and strong like her mother.
She had brought into his life a light so bright, that it filled in the rooms in his heart that he didn't even know existed.
~So when I'm all choked up
But I can't find the words
She didn't care where the white horse was leading her, as long as it was out of the wretched city. And when she found herself in a camp with black and yellow Stag banners, with Gendry running towards her, she almost fell into his arms.
She wanted to scream and rage and cry, but no words came out of her mouth. It was as if the ash that rained upon them had choked her to submission.
But when he kissed her forehead, it suddenly wasn't important.
“It's time to rest,” he said.
And she realised that it was the time to live.
~Every time we say goodbye
Baby, it hurts
He was being carted away by a mysterious red priestess, and didn't know if his fate was to be killed, maimed or be turned into a slave.
The men he thought could be his family had sold him for a sack of gold. The girl who wanted to be his family was the only one who tried to rescue him.
He saw hurt and betrayal reflecting in her eyes, and as the distance between them increased, a tear slid down his own.
~When the sun goes down
And the band won't play
I'll always remember us this way
“It's not everyday that your daughter gets married, Milord. Cheer up.”
But her dear husband, the father of the bride, just pouted in response. She found it adorable.
“Still can't believe she chose one of your Uncle Edmure's though,” he responded, his eyes on the young Brynden Tully, who in turn, was busy gazing at their daughter. Arya had to admit that the young couple looked just a little dazed, and very much in love.
Ah, young love. Her daughter, the heir of the Stormlands, had found it in the Riverlands. When they attended young Hoster's wedding, she was but a girl of ten and two, racing through the woods with Brynden, and learning to swim and catch fish from the boy, and her aunt Roslin made knowing eyes at Arya. Five years later, the boy had transformed into a handsome knight known for winning tourneys and distributing the prize money to the people, and her daughter had been crowned Queen of Love and Beauty by the redhead, not once, but twice.
Her husband had more to say.
“Look Arya, we're not sending Rickard to King's Landing. He needs to stay here. Someone needs to show him his place.”
The boy in question was trying to charm a girl from a lower house, and Arya understood Gendry's concerns. She however, had different plans.
“Yes, of course. I'll take care of him, don't worry.”
She bit her lip, knowing that he might not like what she had to say,
“Bran wrote to me.”
“And?”
“He wants me to send Ned instead.”
Gendry's face fell. Ned was their little boy of one and ten, always trailing behind his father in the forge, making wooden toys for his younger sister Shireen, helping her with the sums. He was excitedly chatting with the hedge knights in the hall, and admiring their longswords.
He took a large swig from his mug of ale,
“Lets go to bed before I lose my mind, wife.”
Wife. She was his wife, and they were a family, her girls and boys and him. Against all the odds they faced in life, they had found their happiness. She leaned against his shoulder, feeling slightly happy-drunk, and they walked out of the hall.
But not before she clobbered Rickard on the head.
~Lovers in the night
Poets trying to write
We don't know how to rhyme
But, damn, we try
She nibbled on his ear as he tried to finish the last of his letters. She licked on the nape of his neck and ran her soft hands along his collarbone, before placing both her elbows on his shoulders, embracing him from behind the chair, nuzzling against his beard.
“Arya, you know I need time. I have to do my duty right. This is a pressing matter.”
She raised an eyebrow at that.
And he raised his eyebrows in turn.
“At the cost of ignoring your wife's needs? Fine.” she finally said, pulling away from him and retiring to their bed, alone.
He sighed, his head angled upwards, grasping the arms of his chair. He didn't like refusing her, he almost never did; but this was important and he had to take his time finishing these.
When he finally slipped into bed, he kissed her hair, and whispered into the quiet,
“I'm so sorry, m'lady. Forgive me,” but chose not to wake her up by engulfing her in his arms like he did everyday. He began to slowly drift off into sleep, all while thinking of the various ways he could apologise to his she-wolf, but when she turned around and buried herself in his bare chest, he knew all was forgiven.
~But all I really know
You're where I wanna go
She'd promised him that she would return. And more than two years later, she was in Pentos, waiting on the Nymeria to begin the final leg of their journey - across the Narrow sea to Tarth, from where the crew would all split up. Some would return to King's Landing, and a few planned to continue to Oldtown.
And she would go to Storm's End, where her Bull was eagerly waiting for her, according to the letter she clutched in her hand. It was only after sailing for more than a year and half that she was able to send letters to Westeros through Pentosi and Tyroshi traders at Qarth. And when they began to make their way through Essos, Arya was surprised to find a letter from Gendry waiting for her at Volantis. Storm's End was trading with Qohor through Volantis and Lys, and reading his letters made her heart flutter with happiness.
While being at sea gave her the peace and freedom she needed, she now wanted to go home.
Home to her Bull.
~The part of me that's you will never die
The first year was the hardest.
Between taking all his "lordly" lessons, settling a minor uprising and rejecting all the betrothals being pressed upon him, Gendry hardly found time to write to King Bran or Queen Sansa asking for news of Arya, if they had any. And when he finally did ask the King, all he got in response was an enigmatic smile.
So he began to do something he'd never done his whole life.
He began to pray.
Not to the Lord of Light, nor the Seven. He knew he had the blood of the First Men, but the still young Weirwood did not draw him in.
No, he prayed to his ancestors. The Goddess of the Sea and God of the Winds were the ones he seeked, and he often stood on the battlements praying to them to protect his love, his heart. She was a part of him now, and he prayed for her safe return.
~So when I'm all choked up
But I can't find the words
“Gendry…”
“Look at me, love. What is it?”
She could only shake her head as she grasped the front of his shirt already wet with her tears. This was the third time she was trying to talk to him, but she just couldn't find the words.
“Arya… look at me,”
He palmed her tear-stained cheeks, raising her face to his.
“Arya, you're scaring me now. What is it?”
Their foreheads touching, she allowed herself to melt into his comforting embrace. He was looking at her so lovingly, even though she probably looked a fright, and that gave her the courage to smile, to speak,
“I think…”
Gendry nodded at her reassuringly, and she pressed a quick kiss onto his lips, before resting her head on his beating heart.
“I think... I'm with child.”
The look of wonder, of pure love and disbelief that he wore on his face was something she'd never seen before.
And it was something she'd cherish for the rest of her life.
~Every time we say goodbye
Baby, it hurts
“Come morn, and you'll be gone, won't you?”
She was running her fingers through the smattering of hair on his chest,
“Gendry… won't you come to docks? To watch-”
“- yeah, to watch you sail away from me, into the unknown for the Seven know how long. No, I won't.”
He let out a breath, and caressed her soft cheek with his calloused fingers, running his thumb across her nose, her eyelashes, and letting his free hand play with her soft hair.
“I love you. I know and understand that you need to go on this journey. And I won't challenge your decision. But it hurts when you leave.”
She stared at him for a few seconds, stunned into silence. And then she kissed him fiercely, like the she-wolf they liked to call her.
“Take me,” she whispered against his lips.
“Show me how much you love me one last time before I leave.”
~When the sun goes down
And the band won't play
I'll always remember us this way
When she kissed him full on the mouth, and it was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. The sensations made him feel lightheaded.
He couldn’t help but grin against her lips. Her kisses reminded him of the spitfire she was when they were children, snapping at him, bantering with him.
And when she lowered herself on him, there was nothing but her, and nothing like her, not for him.
~Oh, yeah
I don't wanna be just a memory, baby, yeah
He felt like he had hit himself on the head with his own hammer. He was hungover and very angry, angry with himself. Angry that he got drunk and about...well, everything that happened the previous night.
It was as if he fucked up his entire life in a few drunk moments. He spoke all the wrong words, and that pushed her away from him. Away from Winterfell even, if the gossip he heard was true.
Was he just a memory of her first fuck... to know how it felt?
As he slammed down on the anvil, pounding out his frustrations, furious with himself, he began to understand the words of his house much better.
Ours is the Fury, indeed.
~When I'm all choked up
But I can't find the words
It was time, he knew.
It was time for him to leave.
His soulmate sat beside him, holding his hand in hers.
Oh, if only he could tell her how much he loves her, and how growing older had only made him love her more and more. His heart felt like it was bursting at the seams, but no words came out his throat.
If only he could be with her one last time.
With great effort, he raised both his arms, and Arya's eyes softened. She moved to rest her head on his collarbone, and he placed his hands on her hips, allowing himself to take in her scent, and then it all turned white, golden and grey.
~Every time we say goodbye
Baby, it hurts
When Gendry gently put his shivering arms on her hips, and embraced her with everything he had, she knew it was the final goodbye.
Who knew that the bastard blacksmith she met as a child while escaping King's Landing would be the one with whom she raised her children and grandchildren; the one with whom she shared all her fears and dreams; the one who let her go, and welcomed her back with open arms.
When she felt his breathing cease, she didn't let go. She felt his heartbeat disappear, but did not stir. She knew if she stayed any longer, his arms could trap her. But what if she wanted to be trapped in him forever?
~When the sun goes down
And the band won't play
I'll always remember us this way, oh, yeah
Jon held her hand as she walked into the beautifully decorated Godswood. Her heart thumped like a galloping horse, but her mind seemed to slowly go into a blissful calm.
The second her eyes met her lover's nervous gaze, she knew that this was the moment she had been fighting for her entire life: to love, to belong, and to be herself.
And he was the man who would help her fulfill that destiny. And here she was, on the cusp of their new beginning.
~When you look at me
And the whole world fades
I'll always remember us this way
He was nervous, sweating into his fancy Lord's clothing as he waited for Arya at the Heart tree. Every whisper, every footstep and even the rustle of the leaves in the wind seemed louder, but the loudest was the thudding of his own heart in his ears.
But then he saw her.
And it was if the world melted away.
The only thing that existed was her. His maiden of the tree, dressed in white and grey and golden leaves. Floating towards him, beaming at him, reaching for his hands.
If he was to die, this was the vision he would see before he did.
He'd remember them clasping hands in front of the Heart tree.
He'd remember them cloaking each other to the cheers of their family and friends.
He'd remember their first kiss as man and wife, their tears mingling along with their souls.
He'd always remember them this way.