Escape
Title: Escape
Fandom: ASOIAF
Characters: Arya/Gendry, Sansa
Rating: PG
Words: 535
Summary: Arya gets ready to escape with her lover.
Warnings: Spoilers go up to and including ADWD. Part of my Gendry/Arya/Aegon series.
Arya never thought it would be so hard to run away and leave everything behind. She would have to forget forever about Bran, Sansa, Rickon... but then again, ten years ago, wasn't that exactly what she had done? And back then, she was only eleven... she was now twenty-one, a fully-grown woman.
She didn't consider herself as beautiful as Sansa or her mother, she had inherited most physical traits from the Starks rather than from the Tullys, and she still remembers how she her face was compared to that of a horse when she was younger. That hadn't changed much now either. Her breasts hadn't grown and developed much, like it had happened to Sansa, but it was alright. It was easier to travel that way anyway.
"You're leaving?" a female voice surprised her behind her back. She spun around and found herself facing her older sister.
"Sansa, I-" she mumbles, but is unable to think of an excuse.
"Is it because of Gendry?" she makes a small smile upon seeing the surprise on her face. "It was obvious the minute I saw you two walk in the very day you arrived. Trying so hard not to hold hands. I know that feeling."
"The Hound?" Arya asks, and Sansa sadly nods. "I think he's still alive. We traveled together for some time during the war, he's probably still out there, somewhere."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you" Sansa mumbles, looking around at her things. "You're taking your old sword?"
Arya nods as she puts away Needle on her bag. She can't use the sword anymore, she knows that, the size isn't fit for her anymore. Nevertheless, she still wanted to take it; they had been through too much together, and she felt the sword as a part of herself. It had been a gift from Jon, after all...
"Aren't you going to hold me back?" Arya asks, surprised. "Aren't you going to tell me to stay and fulfill my duties as a lady?"
"I should" Sansa admits. "But I won't. I married for the wrong reasons, not out of love. Harry is a good man, a good lord, but I can't love him. And if you love Gendry, you should go. I won't force you to stay, as long as you remind me every now and then that you're alive and well."
"I do love him" Arya assures her. "And I will. Write to you, I mean. Whenever I can. Thank you, Sansa."
"You should hurry, guards could come by your door any minute" Sansa says, heading to the door. "Good luck, my sister. You're really a grown-up now..."
"You grew up too, Sansa" Arya admits. The old Sansa would've never acted like that. In a way, the war did bring something good after all.
She finished packing the basics for the run; old travel clothes, a pocket knife, her new, more fitting sword, and as much food as she could sneak from the kitchen. She would meet with Gendry down at King's Landing, and they would leave this place for once, they didn't even know where to, and it didn't matter; if they were together, every single place on Westeros was paradise.
Fandom: ASOIAF
Characters: Arya/Gendry, Sansa
Rating: PG
Words: 535
Summary: Arya gets ready to escape with her lover.
Warnings: Spoilers go up to and including ADWD. Part of my Gendry/Arya/Aegon series.
Arya never thought it would be so hard to run away and leave everything behind. She would have to forget forever about Bran, Sansa, Rickon... but then again, ten years ago, wasn't that exactly what she had done? And back then, she was only eleven... she was now twenty-one, a fully-grown woman.
She didn't consider herself as beautiful as Sansa or her mother, she had inherited most physical traits from the Starks rather than from the Tullys, and she still remembers how she her face was compared to that of a horse when she was younger. That hadn't changed much now either. Her breasts hadn't grown and developed much, like it had happened to Sansa, but it was alright. It was easier to travel that way anyway.
"You're leaving?" a female voice surprised her behind her back. She spun around and found herself facing her older sister.
"Sansa, I-" she mumbles, but is unable to think of an excuse.
"Is it because of Gendry?" she makes a small smile upon seeing the surprise on her face. "It was obvious the minute I saw you two walk in the very day you arrived. Trying so hard not to hold hands. I know that feeling."
"The Hound?" Arya asks, and Sansa sadly nods. "I think he's still alive. We traveled together for some time during the war, he's probably still out there, somewhere."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you" Sansa mumbles, looking around at her things. "You're taking your old sword?"
Arya nods as she puts away Needle on her bag. She can't use the sword anymore, she knows that, the size isn't fit for her anymore. Nevertheless, she still wanted to take it; they had been through too much together, and she felt the sword as a part of herself. It had been a gift from Jon, after all...
"Aren't you going to hold me back?" Arya asks, surprised. "Aren't you going to tell me to stay and fulfill my duties as a lady?"
"I should" Sansa admits. "But I won't. I married for the wrong reasons, not out of love. Harry is a good man, a good lord, but I can't love him. And if you love Gendry, you should go. I won't force you to stay, as long as you remind me every now and then that you're alive and well."
"I do love him" Arya assures her. "And I will. Write to you, I mean. Whenever I can. Thank you, Sansa."
"You should hurry, guards could come by your door any minute" Sansa says, heading to the door. "Good luck, my sister. You're really a grown-up now..."
"You grew up too, Sansa" Arya admits. The old Sansa would've never acted like that. In a way, the war did bring something good after all.
She finished packing the basics for the run; old travel clothes, a pocket knife, her new, more fitting sword, and as much food as she could sneak from the kitchen. She would meet with Gendry down at King's Landing, and they would leave this place for once, they didn't even know where to, and it didn't matter; if they were together, every single place on Westeros was paradise.