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Arya rolled her eyes when Gendry told her she didn’t like the red priestess because she was a girl. There was something dark reaching out from her, and Arya could feel it brush over her every time the woman looked her way. Gendry and the boys were laughing and Arya scowled at them, a scowl that deepened when she noticed the woman walking toward them. She stopped in front of Gendry, and Arya slipped her hand into his and was reassured to feel him squeeze hers in response. All reassurances disappeared, however, when two of the brotherhood shoved her away and dragged him into the caged wagon The Hound had recently inhabited. Arya’s shock turned to fury when she saw Dondarrion accept two bags of gold from the woman.
“What are you doing? He wanted to be a part of your brotherhood,” she screamed at him while one of the men she didn’t know held her back. “He was going to stay with you! You don’t care about honor or brotherhood, all you care about is gold!” Arya’s fury was white hot and refused to be quenched. Dondarrion looked at her carefully.
“First of all, no matter what he told you, that boy wouldn’t have stayed with us unless you were staying as well. Second of all, funding a brotherhood is expensive. We’re ransoming you for gold, why shouldn’t we do the same with him?”
“My family will pay for him, I swear it. They’ll give you twice that much gold if I ask them to!” Arya could feel desperation seeping into her soul as she looked back and forth from wide-eyed captive Gendry and Dondarrion, who was smirking at her.
“I highly doubt that,” he said. “ It’d be much easier to marry you off to some lord or another without the blacksmith boy who’s in love with you hanging about. And really, m’lady, none of that matters because the Red God has need for the boy, so he’ll be going with Melisandre.”
“Really, the Red God needs him? Did the Red God tell you that or did she,” Arya spat, pointing accusingly at the red priestess, carefully not thinking about Gendry and words like ‘love.’ Instead she elbowed the man holding her and ran to the wagon. She hated seeing her blacksmith behind bars, she hated the idea of being separated from him, especially after surviving Harenhall together, and she especially hated that she could feel her eyes flooding with tears.
“Not once since we left King’s Landing have I seen you shed a tear. If Harenhall wasn’t a good enough reason for you to cry, please don’t do it now on my account, m’lady.”
“Don’t call me that,” Arya replied indignantly before realizing he’d said it on purpose to get a rise out of her. His lips were twitching up into a smile. “We don’t have any reason to be smiling, stupid,” Arya reached her hand through the bars to wipe the smile off his face, but he caught her wrist and placed a gentle kiss on her palm.
“It’s true, you know, I wouldn’t have stayed if you left. I’d follow you north of the Wall, I’d follow you into King’s Landing, I’d follow you to the ends of the earth. I love you, Arya Stark.” Arya could feel her breathing speeding up.
“And you waited until now to tell me? I love you too, you great idiot.” Arya leaned her head between the bars to rest against Gendry’s, her hand still clutched in his. She closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of him, smoke and soot, and something that was just his.
“Girl, get away from the bars before you lose your head when we start moving,” a gruff voice yelled in her direction. She looked up into Gendry’s watery blue eyes once more.
“I’ll find you,” she whispered to him. “I swear, wherever she takes you I’ll find you.”
“I know you will, Arry, you’re far too stubborn not to.” Reluctantly Arya stepped away from the cart as it started rolling away. When Melisandre rode past, her red cloak like blood against the white of her horse, Arya grabbed the dangling reins and pulled the creature to a stop. Arya called upon every ounce of Stark in her blood, her father’s justice, her mother’s dedication, Robb’s leadership, Jon’s loyalty, Bran’s intelligence, Rickon’s honesty, and Sansa’s deadly furious voice in her head, whispering at her not to lose this little bit of family, now that she’d found it. She finally met Melisandre’s eyes as she spoke with quiet, measured words:
“If you take him from me now, I will hunt you down. I will put my knife through your eye until it comes out the back of your skull. I will use my sword to separate your head from your shoulders, and I will send it to my brother as a gift to parade on a spike. I will wrap your body in iron chains and throw it into the sea. I would like to see your Lord of Light resurrect you then.”
“Do not threaten me-“ Melisandre started to reply before stopping as she looked at Arya. “There are many eyes within yours. Eyes that will close forever at your hand.”
“Did you recognize your own,” Arya asked her defiantly. Melisandre didn’t reply but Arya saw fear flicker across her face before she spurred her horse forward. Arya stood in the mud, and didn’t look away from Gendry’s eyes until they were out of sight, silently vowing to the gods, new and old, that she would get him back and she would kill Melisandre before she was done.