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Day 4 - Whisper
Whispers of sweet nothings floated through the woods of the Riverlands. There was a tree, a large vitex tree, that stood surrounded by young oak hearts. It was here that lovers - new, old, young, and forbidden - came here to escape the world. It was said among the small folk that magic guarded the tree, and you could only find it if your passion was enough, your need great, and your love pure.
Arya Stark thought that was a load of shit.
The kingdom of Westeros was peaceful ever since Daenerys Targaryen had conquered the land, stable through the harshest winter the world had ever seen. Spring was close, Arya knew. The maesters of the Citadel had told her in person, just after she had been sent on a mission by the Dragon Queen herself to Old Town.
As winter drew itself to a close, Arya had found herself with little to do. Winter was not a time of prosperity, but it brought people together. Any that thought it wise to attempt to steal would do so in the beginning, which was when Arya dealt with them personally. Visiting her family was about all she could do, as well as seeing Gendry and Hot Pie.
It was Hot Pie who had told her about the ancient tree originally. "I've tried to find it myself; I didn't believe any of the tales, just like yourself." Arya raised her eyebrows again. "I suppose I'll have to go out and find it, then, won't I?" She asked with a slight smirk. A series of loud chops resonated through the kitchen. Steam rose from the fresh loaf Hot Pie sliced through.
"Will you really go out and search for it?" He asked, handing her a slice of his infamous bread. Arya bit into it, nodded with approval, and then nodded again to answer his question. The bread seemingly melted in her mouth, each mouthful better than the last.
She finished it quickly and held out her palm for a second slice. "I suppose I have to. I've got nothing better to do than ruin the mystery of love in the Riverlands." Hot Pie frowned. "That's not very nice."
"Sure it is. I'll be able to tell everybody where it is so they can go to it when they please. Anyway, why did you go looking for it? Something's telling me you don't have the same logic as me." Her friend blushed a furious shade of red. "Logic," he scoffed, without much vigor.
She waved for him to proceed with his answer. "Well, there's, um, there's this girl," he sputtered nervously. Arya laughed gleefully. "A girl!" She exclaimed. "Hot Pie's got a girl!" He brandished his kitchen knife and pointed it threateningly at her. "Stop saying it so loud! And anyway, I don't have a girl - yet. I was going to take her, her name's Elsie, by the way, and she's a real beauty…"
Arya snapped her fingers to re-grab his attention. "Focus."
"Right. Sorry." He put the knife down. "I was hoping I could take her there for a picnic on one of those days where it's warmer and not snowing. We've been getting more and more of those recently."
Arya looked at him with newfound respect. "Not bad, Hot Pie. Well done. Do I have your permission to race up to King's Landing and tell Gendry?" She laughed, expecting a fierce and resolute no!, but instead received a shrug from him. Smiling, she went up to her room in the inn and packed a small bag for her trip to find the tree.
She left on the morrow and followed the direction Hot Pie gave her. She rode for an hour, finally reaching a village on the verge of the forest. "That's where the tale started, I got that much," he had told her.
Arya's mount twitched nervously as they approached the gateway. The town was still, despite the sun being well up. A thin layer of snow had already begun to cover the ground, but that wouldn't stop the small folk from going about their business. Arya demounted at the entrance to the village and left her horse by the gate.
Her heavy boots crunched against the icy snow, disturbing the eeriy quiet that hung over the town. Not a person, nor animal, was visible. Of course, she could understand the latter. It had been a cold night, so the livestock would have been in a barn, or even a home, if their owners had no designated place for the animals.
Arya was about to knock on a door when she saw a young boy dart out from behind the small sept nearby. "Hey!" Arya cried out. She dashed after him. "Stop!" The boy lead her through the town, in between houses that were becoming shambles and over sturdy homes, through narrow alleys and around the sept.
He's fast, Arya thought angrily. Maybe faster than me. I'm getting out of shape. As soon as that crossed her mind, she pumped her arms more and increased her stride as much as humanly possible. The distance between them suddenly grew smaller. And, having no problem tackling anything that was running away, she launched herself and drew the boy into her arms. They rolled, and came to a stop.
"Where's everybody?" Arya demanded, holding him by his shoulders. The boy stuck out his tongue. "I bet you're from there! Well, you're too late! They've already left!"
"I'm not from there! I wanted to go with them!" Arya spat, even though she had no clue where there was. She could only assume he meant the villagers had gone off somewhere. To do what, she could not say.
As she answered, she saw a sudden change in the boy's face. "Really miss? You wanted to march wit' them?" Ah, a protest. Or they're marching on the next village over to settle something silly. "Of course I did!" Her hand moved her hair to cover the direwolf sigil embroidered on her leather jerkin.
"They're probably already at Riverrun. They left real early this morning," the boy gabbled. Arya made a sad face. "That's too bad. Say, did any other towns go with them? There was talk in mine that we might go, but we decided against it." The boy shook his head. "Nope, I heard my Da say so last night!" A furrow formed in his forehead. "D'you think that it's right?" The boy whispered. She played dumb and cocked her head to the left. "What's right?"
"Trying to get food from the lords and ladies up there." A wave of relief washed over her. Lord Brynden Tully, her great-uncle, could handle that.
She paused for a moment. "Yes, I do. I believe a liege lord should always help the people on his land. We have to stick together, especially in winter," Arya answered truthfully. The boy smiled. "Okay! Sorry I ran from you earlier. Need help wit' anything else?" He smiled mischievously.
"Actually, yes. I'm looking for a tree near this village. It's a great big tree where people like to go, know anything about that?" She spoke as simply as she could; he was younger than nine, that much was clear. The boy shook his head. "Nah, but the healer might! She stayed behind." He took her hand and lead her, stooping, to one of the larger homes.
Inside was a congregation of children and women. Whispers echoed throughout the airy room, sets of eyes following Arya as the boy lead her to an old woman, perhaps the oldest one present. "Who's that with you, Uli?"
Uli looked at her. "What's your name?" He whispered loudly. "Tara," she said to both the woman and the boy. "Well, Tara, I'm Jara Kia, the old witch doctor around these parts." She cackled. "The only time anybody comes around to see me is to ask something. What do you need to know?"
"She wants to hear about a tree," Uli offered. Jara Kia shrugged. "Told young couples where to find the vitex tree a thousand times. But I don't see a young man with you."
Arya didn't miss a beat. "Gendry's in King's Landing," she replied naturally. The moment she said it, the realization hit her like a war hammer. Gendry. Couples. Vitex tree. Gendry.
"A bit of a way off, isn't he? I suppose he'll be coming home to your quiet little village soon, eh?"
Arya bit her lip. "Yeah," she managed weakly.
"Well, you won't be able to find it unless you're together, but you're here now. Suppose I'll tell you now so you don't have to come back to this pig sty."
Arya listened intently to the instructions. No different than directions she had received in the past, she noted. But all the while, discomfort was beginning to settle in her mind. Hastily, she said "thank you" and left the village, a knot now working in her stomach. Why had she picked Gendry? She made up names all the time, including the one she had just used for herself, so why use him? She rode into the forest, still mulling over what she had said.
This seemed like a Sansa issue. Arya tried to imagine the questions her sister would ask. "Do you have feelings him?" Would be the obvious one. Before, Arya would have said no, but now? Now she wasn't so sure. It sounds like you do, she could hear her saying.
Gendry was quite handsome. Maybe that's why Arya referred to him. She had always thought that, though. And now, his inky black hair seemed a lot more attractive the more she thought about it. She could see her hands running through it. Was it soft, or coarse like the steel he worked? And there were his eyes. A dazzling blue that reminisced the sea on a clear summer day. They were eyes that made girls swoon. Arya just didn't think that she would be one of them…
The first landmark Jara Kia pointed out stood in front of her. The rock was unmistakable for anything else. A sharp red, smooth as a pebble, and as large as a boulder. She turned left and was on her way once again. She encountered no trouble, and no difficulty with finding her way, but the tree was nowhere to be found. She circled back to the last landmark and tried again and again. And again. And again.
With a heavy sigh, Arya turned back and rode out of the forest. By the time she emerged, dusk was falling. The snow was thick on the ground, but her mount trotted through it comfortable, as it had been bred specifically for the strong winds and thick snow of the north. She rode back to Hot Pie's inn and resided there for the night. The knot continued to grow and flop around in her belly; it never let her forget that it was there. All she could think about was Gendry and the unrest that had settled in her stomach.
She left a fortnight later and rode to King's Landing to report to the Hand of the Queen, Tyrion Lannister. She gave news from the north every two moons. Oftentimes, her sister Sansa would handwrite the report and have Arya deliver it, to make sure it landed safely in the hands of the Imp.
Typically, she would stay on for the next week before returning home, and would visit Gendry during that time, but anxiety flooded her with the thought of seeing him. All throughout the ride, she thought about the tree and Jara Kia's words. But most of all, she thought about Gendry.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the young wolf," Tyrion drawled lazily. Arya had been summoned to his study upon her immediate arrival, per usual. She gave a sweeping bow to the Imp and smiled. "My lord." He snorted. "Oh, my dear, please do treat me with the utmost respect and dignity a lord can possibly receive." Arya smiled. For all the years she had been doing this, she had come to know that as much as he might claim to hate courtesies (for it makes court rather dull and repetitive, Tyrion would say), it was not often that he did receive the proper respect that befits the Hand of the Queen. For this reason, Arya was always sure to be sincere around Tyrion Lannister. He was a good friend, and a good ally to have.
"What news of the North do you have for me? Those bloody ravens aren't to be trusted; only one made it through the winds of this harsh and unforgiving winter." Tyrion placed two glasses upon his wooden desk and invited Arya to sit before him. "Not much, I'm afraid," she said, climbing into the plush velvet chair. "The stores are running well. Could be better of course, but the people are as satisfied as they can be in the midst of winter."
"Well, you do know what they say," Tyrion smiled whilst pouring the wine into his glass. "No news is good news. Water again, I presume?" She nodded. "You poor bastards that don't drink."
"It-"
"-dulls the senses, so you keep on telling me. I'm quite aware of the fact." She laughed and accepted the glass he handed her.
The silence swelled in the room as they drank deeply from their respective cups. Arya closed her eyes. A smile touched her lips. The cold winter air had managed to take root in her drink, chilling her to the bone. Just as the bones of a Stark should be.
"Sansa tells me you're looking for a husband," Tyrion remarked casually. She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, no, I'm not asking for myself. I'm simply a curious man."
"I've found that curiosity is not often simple."
Now it was his turn to laugh. "Quite right, my lady." Arya paused for a moment before pressing on. "I'm not in want of a lord husband, she's the one that wants me to." He waved his hands in apology. "A thousand pardons. I take it that you aren't considering anyone then?" She opened her mouth to give a resolute "no", but found herself thinking of Gendry once more.
Tyrion put his glass on his desk and leaned forward, hands folded. "I was not expecting such an interesting conversation. I'd ask you to continue, but judging by your slack-jaw, I take it you have some thinking to do upon the subject yourself. Love is a tricky business, I should know." Arya nodded grimly, thanked him, and went to claim her chambers for the night.
The following day, she rode through the bustling city to Flea's Bottom, where Gendry's forge was located. Arya resolved to act as casual as always, forcing herself to believe that she had simply overanalyzed the situation.
A ruckus louder than the queen's dragons rose through the air as she steadily approached. The forge was never quiet. Gendry had not been so quiet these past few years, so it was only natural that his workplace was not either. To raise the volume even more, he had two apprentices scuttling around like mice afraid of being pounced on. Around their master, they were sure to be cautious in everything they did. It was Albrecht, one of the apprentices, that greeted Arya when she dismounted.
"Hello, m'lady. Shall I fetch Gendry for ya?" He gave her a toothy grin whilst wiping his smudged hands on a cloth. She smiled and dipped her head. "Nice to see you too, Albrecht," she called as he darted away into the forge. Moments later, he returned with a sweaty smith at his elbow. "Back to work," Gendry ordered gruffly. His slight frown turned into a smile. "Arya. I didn't expect you to be here so soon!" She shrugged. "Wanted to get out of the cold, I suppose." He laughed and beckoned her inside the blazing forge.
"Sorry it's a bit of a mess," he apologised as they walked in. That's the understatement of the season, Arya thought silently. Her gaze took in the entirety of the forge, part of the training she acquired at the House of Black and White. In a matter of moments, she had the objects in the room - and their location - memorised. "I'm afraid your room isn't ready," Gendry was saying, playing with his hammer absentmindedly. "The forge has been really busy lately. Albrecht, Tom, and I are barely able to keep up."
She nodded and turned to observe the sword he was currently making. The tip was white with fire. A leather sheath lay beside it. Normally, Arya would be chatting away comfortably with Gendry by this point, exchanging news and stories and laughs. Perhaps she was reading too much into her decision to pretend they were courting. It was fake, after all, and unimportant in the grand scheme of things. They were just friends, so it was only logical that Arya would pick his name.
Right?
"-okay?" Gendry was staring at her intently, the small candlelight setting his face aflame. "You didn't listen to a word I said, did you?" Arya looked at her food shamefully. Her cheeks were burning up. "You've been spacing out all night. What's going on?" Gendry leaned into her and placed his warm hand atop her own. She spared a glance towards him and saw his concerned expression. And she could never be sure, but she would've sworn that his eyes conveyed far more than his words had. There was something about how they shone, or how they watched her steadily - a deep passion behind the angry seas.
"I…" She didn't have an excuse. All the confusion that had been spinning her into knots over the past several days were starting to unravel. Her heart had been tugging at her head for what felt like years, and Arya had chosen to ignore it. "He's in King's Landing" was all it had taken to wake her from the dream she had been living.
And suddenly, the words were tumbling out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying. "I love you," she whispered breathlessly, looking up to meet his surprised face. She knew it to be true, there was no doubt in her heart now. Never before had she felt something so right as saying those three little words.
For the longest five seconds of her life, Gendry did not say anything. His jaw hung slack, if only for a moment, before turning into a wild grin. "Dammit, Arya, do you know how long I've been wanting to hear you say that?" Almost instantaneously, his arms had wrapped themselves around her lithe frame, her mouth on his. Warmth rushed her body, and Arya saw herself with him, locked in an embrace, for as long as the seasons still came.
When they broke apart, she rested her forehead on his, still trying to catch her breath. "I want you to come with me," she said. Gendry placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "I'll follow you anywhere," he murmured.
"That's good, because we need to find a tree," she whispered back, grinning.