Winter's Thaw

A Rocky Start

A Rocky Start

Gendry

He awoke to a serving girl lifting up the covers and exposing him to the cool early morning air.

"Milord." The girl gasped. "I'm sorry, I thought you were already about." She had strawberry blonde hair beneath a white cap, and she had nice brown eyes. No one had called him Milord before, not being serious. It felt wrong.

"It's fine. Have you seen, my wife?" That didn't sound real coming out of his mouth either.

"I saw her down in the hall at breakfast."

He thanked her, pulled his smallclothes up, and hopped out of bed, he needed her to leave so he could use the chamber pot. She pulled up the sheets, and he saw the bright red stain, the blood Arya had been so concerned with, blooming like a poppy on the crisp white sheets. He wouldn't call himself a war hero, but he had seen a fair amount of battles under Stannis, and the Brotherhood, Harrenhall, and the road before that, so much blood and death. The amount of blood there on the sheets, it wasn't fatal, he knew that much, but from a deep wound. The maid looked startled, gave him a side-eye, and then went back to stripping the sheets. Fuck. As if he didn't feel guilty enough. After she left he peed and got dressed quickly. He made it down to the dining hall, only to be told his lady wife had gone to the stables. At the stables, they said she had gone to the laundry. There he ran into the same blonde girl from earlier, she was gossiping loudly with another, and he overheard her say how slowly Arya had sat down at the table that morning.

"Well, he's near a giant that one, most like split her near in half." And they giggled a bit before noticing him there, then turning bright red. He directed his question to the one he hadn't met.

"Have you seen Arya?"

"Lady Baratheon? Yes, Milord, she went to the kitchens, I think." She stuttered out the last bit.

"Thank you." He bit out.

When the kitchen girl told him she was out in the yard, he was beginning to suspect that Arya was avoiding him, and it gave him a deep churning in his stomach.

He had been so nervous last night and had done everything wrong. He didn't have much experience, if it even really counted. But he was certain he hadn't done right by her. He could imagine what his friends might say, endlessly teasing him for performing so poorly. And despite it all, he had enjoyed it, enjoyed her. He really did want to see her, make sure she was all right. He was worried, even more so because he saw firsthand how ridiculously stubborn she was. More so than himself, and he had been nicknamed The Bull by his master, Tobo Mott. If there was something wrong, there was no way she'd ever tell him about it.

He made it out to the yard, where much of the camp was settled. The Queen, Lord Tyrion, and Ser Davos were about. There she was, in trousers and a tunic once more, belted at the waist, talking to the Dragon Queen, who for her part looked frustrated.

"Arya, please wait, perhaps you should wait another day. I would prefer to say goodbye properly." She was tightening the straps on some of the supply bags, making sure they sat right on one of the horses.

"Whether we do it now or over the course of a week, the goodbye won't make it any easier."

Ser Davos motions him over, he starts over and loses the rest of the conversation between the two small women.

Ser Davos greets him with a clap on the back.

"Alright boy?" He asks with a grin. "You've got a stupefied way about you this morning."

"Fine. Looks like I'm leaving. Now." He gives a humorless laugh.

"Aye, you've got a long road ahead." He coughs, uncomfortable.