The first time Gendry walks through the gates of Winterfell, Arya didn't even talk to him. She had her reasons for that. Mostly because it was an overwhelming sight, all these unsullied and wildlings and redeemed royals trampling in through the courtyard behind the King in the North and the Mother of Dragons, and Gendry was just lurking in the middle, his war hammer swinging at his side. It would have been easy to pretend that she didn't seem him, if only they hadn't locked eyes and his mouth had twitched into half a smile before Arya had torn herself away from him and towards her brother. Gendry wouldn't have been able to tell that she wasn't telling the truth. Among so many other things, Arya has become quite the excellent liar. A Game of Thrones fic. Taking place in Season 8/Winds of Winter. Gendry/Arya centric. Everything you recognize was created by HBO or George R. R. Martin. This is a fanfiction.