A Vow Without Honor

The Climb

Arya

She found herself thinking of Hot Pie often, how he would have hated all the climbing they were doing.

Despite the horses they had taken from the farm, they were on foot more often than not. They were thin creatures, more used to easy work on the flat farmlands. The air thinned as they climbed the High Road, and the horses tired quickly. The Hound had killed his already, giving Arya a long, hard look as he drew the sword from its neck. They had cooked what they could that night and left the rest for the wolves that prowled the area, not that they were likely to attack them. Nymeria kept a vigilant watch at night, and the only creature that dared draw close had its pelt draped across Sandor Clegane's new horse.

The unusual group was mostly quiet as they journeyed up the ever growing hills of the Vale. There wasn't much to say anymore, though the Hound still had a word or two when Arya and Gendry trained at night. It didn't bother them so much anymore. He was usually quiet when they did it right.

Once, he even told Gendry to change his stance.

Gendry still looked at him funny for that.

Only when he wasn't paying attention, of course.

One day, the hills became mountains, stretching as tall as the clouds themselves. The Mountains of the Moon, she could hear Maester Luwin saying in the back of her mind. The Arryns ruled this land, though there wasn't much to it. Half the land was solid rock, uninhabitable; half the land that was able to turn a profit had to be abandoned come winter, when the hard winds and bitter cold destroyed everything they touched.

Still, they had money, probably more than the rest of the realm since her aunt hadn't called her banners. That was all the Hound cared about.

Arya had taken to wondering why Lysa hadn't helped Robb. It was her husband's death that started everything. She thought she would have hated the Lannisters.

They hardly met anyone on the road. The few travelers they did come by were leaving the Vale, and they quickly picked up the pace when they spotted the Hound. Not even the hill tribes came out to greet them. She found it disappointing.

"Of course you would," Gendry sighed as they sparred one evening. The fire had died and they were forced to practice by the light of the moon. "You're not happy unless we're in danger."

"That's not true!" she replied, dodging a heavy swing and rolling to Gendry's left. They weren't the perfect practice partners - Arya could never hope to match Gendry's strength - but they found a sort of balance. Arya was able to practice redirecting and dodging bows, while Gendry worked on fighting an opponent whose speed was greater than his.

"Course it is! We've been safely traveling for days. I actually manage to sleep through the night, and all you can talk about is how boring it is."

"Well, it is!"

"Boring is safe," he said, breaking off. "I'd rather be bored than dead."

Nymeria had curled up beside Gendry that night, clearly choosing a side, but come morning she was gone, and they hadn't seen her since.

The next day, they found themselves at the Bloody Gates.

Two watchtowers connected by a bridge cut off the narrow pass through the mountains. The banner of House Arryn flew high above them, whipped back and forth by the harsh winds that came through the pass. Archers watched them from the battlements, and a covered wagon quickly passed through the opening, the soldiers on the ground lining up behind it to block the way.