A Furious Thing

Winterfell Cont.

It didn't matter how handsome the Prince was. It certainly didn't matter how funny and generous he could be. None of that changed her name from Snow to Stark, but all of these things were repeated over and over by the castle's servants until that how she thought of Gendry, a fanciful man with too many virtues.

He was nothing like Joffrey at all. Where Joffrey was quick to anger, Gendry's temper burned slow, where Joffrey was thoughtless, Gendry was always considerate. They even looked different. Joffrey had the bright golden ringlets of his mother, just like Myrcella, just like Tommen, while Gendry had inherited his father's dark hair. They were almost more at odds than she and Sansa. But while Gendry favored his father in looks, he was still a Lannister, and he loved his mother and her brothers. It was almost like he couldn't help it, just as Arya couldn't help but love Robb and Rickon and Sansa, even if she hated them as well sometimes. It was easy to love those who loved you back, and Jon and Bran had always been her closest friends. It was loving those that didn't ask for it that Arya couldn't stop doing.

Gendry enjoyed watching his Uncle Jaime fight, and the two of them got on well while training. Gendry always took breakfast with his mother, even when it wasn't required of him, and Arya had spotted him from afar, keeping on a amicable, but stilted conversation.

Arya spent her time with him in the library. Tyrion had made the dusty room his second chamber, and Arya had been happy to share, as long as the Imp didn't speak to her. He wasn't very good at that.

Gendry had visited his Uncle two days after Arya's run in with the King, smiling easily at Tyrion Lannister. Several moments went by, with the pair conversing quietly, before the Prince noticed the spot Arya had shoved herself into, more of a crevice than another room. A nook.

"Arya?" he'd prompted, smiling curiously. Arya glanced up, just as she'd been doing since he'd entered the library, but this time he was looking back.

Eyeing Tyrion, Arya stood, dipping into a graceless curtsy. "Hello, Your Highness."

He only frowned, looking uncomfortable. "It's good to see you again," he told her. Gendry's voice was pointed. So he realized she was avoiding him. "Have you met Lord Tyrion?"

"Yes, we've met before," Arya said. She and Tyrion met eyes for a moment.

"Arya and I had a very interesting conversation about rumours," Tyrion explained. He looked at her like he was laughing at a joke she hadn't been told. Arya's brow wrinkled in both frustration and confusion.

"Nothing scandalous, I hope." Gendry's voice was clear, but his eyes told a different story.

Arya was obviously missing something, but she needed to avoid becoming entangled in southron matters. Curious as her nature was, this was harder and harder each passing day. Still, she was also stubborn by nature.

"Lord Tyrion, I know you're in the library quite a lot. I've found myself in the same position. Would- would you like a tour, as well as an explanation of Maesters Luwin's method of bookkeeping?" Considering just how confusing the order of books and manuscripts and scrolls could be to someone unfamiliar with Winterfell, Arya thought it a rather generous offer.

It took days to introduce Tyrion to all of their materials, and Gendry accompanied them for each one. She tried to avoid striking up conversations with him, but he had no want for polite subjects to discuss, and his Lord Uncle seemed determined to help him along. She felt like she was trapped after three days, but hadn't been able to retract the offer without seeming rude.

She'd escaped after the final day, having taught the Imp well enough about their collection to rival even Luwin's expertise, and joined Jon, Robb, Bran and Rickon in the training courtyard.