STRANGE TRAILS ━━ gendrya

The Night We Met

I had all and then most of you
some and now none of you
take me back to the night we met

Paranoia had reared its ugly head. Jon was due back from the South with the Dragon Queen and her army any day now and Arya was the most scared she'd been since she was left blind on the streets of Bravos. She'd be damned if she was going to let her Northern pride get in the way of protecting what was left of her family so she was left with a sinking feeling in her gut that pulled at the scars the waif left her. She spent all her days strategising with the Lords of the North on guarding the castle at all times. It was tedious work, especially being in a room full of proud men without the other fiercest women in the North with you at times.

She yearned for a connection she no longer had. Some nights she woke up in a cold sweat hearing the call of his voice and that last image she had of him seared into her memory. It happened more often than not with the faceless men but she never let them have that part of her. They could have her family and all the traumas connected to it but the sweet pain of Gendry and all those memories were kept close to her soul. He knew her better than anyone, better than Jon, better than Sansa, and better than her father. He protected her and she protected him. And now he was dead.

Nothing would fill the void of him. No amount of fighting, killing, hate, wars, sharpening of blades, carving of faces, poisoning of sons, none of it would bring back the life that Gendry gave Arya. So she just had to keep going, and hope that being back home with her family would be enough, even if she knew it wouldn't be.

Arya was never one for crowds and gatherings, preferring to blend in unseen. She stayed back in the Godswood for Jon's arrival, watching the mighty and terrifying dragons flying above them, wondering if they were going to land with their mother riding on their back. The serenity of the Godswood had been broken, the stillness of nature rustling in the wind caused by the dragons soaring just above the treetops. It was a while before they must've been sent off to the open planes north of the castle and she heard loud steps crunching towards her on the fresh snow.

Arya silently slinked off, watching unseen as a figure approached the sacred weirwood tree of her people. She realised with a start who it was.

"You used to be taller." She saw the slight jolt as he turned to her, now out in the open behind him. He wasn't shocked to see her, so much as he was confused.

"How did you sneak up on me?" Was the first thing he asked.

"How did you survive a knife through the heart?" She countered.

"I didn't." Jon shrugged with a smile.

Her own face broke out into a smile and she ran up to him, jumping into his awaiting arms like they were children again, and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug. He squeezed her back just as tightly, holding her for a long moment before pulling back and placing her on the ground again.

They looked over each other, trying to decipher all that had changed in the time they had last seen each other. Jon had new scars on his face. Something that no doubt made him more rugged-looking. Arya didn't have anything anyone could see with all her furs on, so she knew she wouldn't be getting any prodding questions any time soon.

"You still have it." Jon was looking at Needle with a surprised but happy expression.

Arya took it out of its sheath, holding it out for him to inspect. "Needle." She confirmed.

Jon took a moment, looking it over for any imperfections before asking, "Have you ever used it?"

It made Arya pause, no doubt Sansa would eventually tell him any and everything she had noticed about Arya. Including her time with the faceless men.

"Once or twice." She answered vaguely with a grim expression.

Jon nods in understanding, giving Needle back to her to put back in its home on her hip. They share a look of understanding that Arya is being vague on purpose, that maybe one day she'll tell him the whole truth of where she's been all this time. It's a quick look. And then Arya looks down at his own sword, smiling timidly like she was a child again fawning over the weapons he was allowed to have but she wasn't. Jon smirks, taking Longclaw from its sheath and letting her inspect it.

"Valyrian steel." She notes, impressed.

"Jealous?" He teases back, making her chuckle.

"Too heavy for me." She hands it back, admiring the wide smile that Jon saved only for her.

He places a hand on her shoulder, bringing them in closer as if they weren't in private and she supposes it's for his own comfort rather than hers.

"Where were you before? I could've used your help with Sansa."

Arya fights everything in her to not stiffen up. Sansa had said that her and Jon got along much better than Arya remembers, that they saw each other truly as a family now, protecting one another and seeing eye to eye. They had their disagreeances, as any brother and sister do, but the only thing that they really butted heads over was going South. Jon trusted Sansa with everything else, she was Lady of Winterfell after all, and she handled everything, including the other lords. But he wouldn't listen to her about going South or about the Targaryen Queen. Arya thought they were acting more like their own mother and father than any siblings she'd ever come across but she kept that to herself.

"She doesn't like your Queen, does she?" She tried to sympathise, she really did, her Northern pride flaring up like it always does but she did her best to see the bigger picture. The whole world was relying on the war that was about to come, and they needed every advantage they could get. She just hated all the strings attached to the advantages.

"Sansa thinks she's smarter than everyone." He said it like she was a child and she hated it. How horribly had the Southern politics gotten to her brother's head that he didn't even realise he was trying to manipulate his own baby sister?

"Jon, I love you, I really do." Arya laughs, shaking her head and taking the hand that was on her shoulder into her own hands, holding him close to her. "Sansa's the smartest person I've ever met."

Jon laughs as well. "You're defending her? You?"

"I'm defending our family. So is she." Arya paused, letting what she said sink in before putting her own hand on his shoulder. "She survived Joffrey, Cersei, the Boltons, and Littlefinger. I don't think you're giving her intuition enough credit."

"I'm her family too." Jon lightly defended, not in the way the proud men she's used to do, but the way a brother does when he feels like he's being left behind.

Arya smiled warmly at him, giving him a look that said he was proving her point. She brought him into another hug.

"Don't forget that."

when the night was full of terrors
and your eyes were filled with tears
when you had not touched me yet
oh, take me back to the night we met