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Chapter Text

Between seeing the wights around him fall to the ground and seeing Jon carry Arya's nearly lifeless body into the courtyard he doesn't remember much. Just a rapid flash of emotions. Relief, exhaustion, anxious, scared. Yes. That was it he was scared when he saw her, terrified he would never be able to tell her how he felt — scared to never feel her lips on his again. And most of all utterly terrified he was going to lose her after just getting her back. He couldn't let that happen. He didn't know what he would do if he lost her again.

Jon was yelling for a maester to come and help his little sister. It seemed his body was so tired he was no longer physically able to carry her one more step. Gendry watched as Jon set her down in the courtyard, resting her head on his lap. He seemed to be talking through his tears to the now moving Arya.

Before he had been standing in shock atop the battelments watching the scene below him unfold, but now, he knew he had to go to her. See her, talk to her, feel her. His legs took him down the multiple flights of stairs. He had to maneuver his way around the fallen wildlings, Unsullied, Dothraki, the northerners, commoners and the wights that littered the ground of the whole castle.
When he got to the courtyard, he ran to the two Starks as fast as his feet could carry him.

When he reached them after what felt like forever but was probably only a few minutes, he knelt next to her. Jon gave him a funny look, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was Arya. "Arya?" it came out softer and more like a question than he intended it to be. That earned him another odd look from Jon. But if he was thinking anything he kept it quietly to himself.

She moved her head to look up at him. She had a gash on the left side of her forehead, and she had mud, grime, and blood covering her entire body. He hoped all the blood wasn't hers, but when he looked at her abdomen, he knew his hope was lost. There was a big tear in her leather armor by the lower abdomen, blood pooling out of it. Jon was trying to stop it, put pressure on it, but it didn't seem to be working. Arya was getting paler by the second.

It seemed she could read his thoughts as she softly spoke to him, "It's okay. It's over now. I killed him. I ended it."

"Arya," he started "I'm so sorry I should have protected you. I never, never should have left you." He was defiantly crying now.

She gave a weak laugh. "You didn't have a choice. And anyway, I decided to forgive your stupid bull-headed self a long time ago."

He knew this was supposed to make him feel better, but it somehow made him feel worse. Digging up the past usually did that to him. He was looking straight at her, "I want to be your family now. Please let me be your family. Please don't leave me, I don't know what I would do if I lost you again,'' he practically begged her. 

"Gendry," she started, looking right at him, "You already were...you already are." 

The last thing he sees is a smile that fully reached her eyes before her eyes closed and she went limp again. He prayed to any gods, old and new that she was not dead. Before he could finish his thought, a tall, burly figure scooped up Arya, his Arya and briskly walked away with her.

"Come on you useless fucks!" the man hollered over his shoulder. Jon and Gendry stared bewildered that the hound. The Hound had just picked her up and began walking her to the makeshift infirmary. 

He and Jon quickly got up and followed the man carrying one of the most important people in both their lives. 

When they arrived at the makeshift infirmary for the wounded, the hound insisted she needed to be seen immediately. When the maester saw her, he rushed her over to an empty cot. Gendry followed them while Jon stayed back to talk to an errand boy. 

Gendry pulled up a couple of chairs beside the cot so he and Jon could stay with her. He pulled his attention to the hound and the maester watching at they hurriedly cut the fabric away from Arya's body. When they were done the hound looked worried, maybe even scared. Her wound was in full view now nothing was obstructing it. It went straight through her body...in one end and out the other. The hound looked down at his feet and then walked out of the hall past Jon.

The maester told Gendry to wait over by Jon until he had cleaned and patched up Arya's wound to the best of his ability. He had not looked so confident when he said that. That worried him. A lot. But, he did as he was told and walked--more like limped-- over to Jon. He did not want to face him right now. He was going to have to explain why and how he knew Arya. Also why he had been crying when he spoke to her. Gendry was not ready to have that conversation. 

"Is she going to be alright?'' Jon asked him.

He didn't know what to say, "I don't know. The maester didn't give me much to go on. When he's done cleaning he up we can go and see her'' he told the older man while scratching the back of his head. Not knowing how to handle the situation. So he tried to change the topic, "What were you talking about with that boy?'

"Oh..Um. I asked him to find my brother and sister and tell them to meet me here." It was clear to see Jon didn't know how to approach the subject either. Gendry wasn't sure if that would make this easier or harder. 

He continued. This time a question, “What is she to you?" 

Gendry looked over to Jon “An old friend...” he looked down “and the only family I’ve ever known.” 

Jon could see Gendry was telling the truth, “when did you know each other?” he asked in a gruff voice.

“After Lord Stark’s death, Yoren was taking her to the wall-to you-with the nights watch recruits. I happened to be one of them.” He slowly continued, “I didn’t know who she was. She was dressed as a boy, but her disguise didn't fool me. I could tell she was a girl.

Jon was intensely staring at him causing him to falter

But he continued the story, “sh-she ended up telling me who she was...and I guess we just stuck together. That is until I told her I was going to stay with the Brotherhood. She had been angry with me. I ended up getting sold to the red woman before I could change my mind. That's where I met ser Davos and found out I was Robert Baratheon's bastard. I thought she was dead when I heard of the red wedding” he looked back at Arya “that’s why I didn’t tell you.” 

Jon let out a big sigh and put a hand on his shoulder. “I understand why you didn’t tell me...I wish you would’ve. I am glad she was not alone that whole time. I suppose it's not the worst thing it was you,” Jon gave him a small smile.

Just as Gendry was about to thank Jon but the doors to the hall burst open. causing people to turn their head in their direction. It startled both of them as they both looked to see who, or what had caused the disturbance. 

He watched as a tall red-headed woman entered the hall. He quickly identified her as the Lady of Winterfell. Lady Sansa. 

She was looking around the hall searching for someone, probably Jon. 

Then she turned her head, making eye contact with her brother. A split second later they were running toward each other and she was scooped up into a bone-crushing hug from the man who had just been by his side. 

When he set her down she noticed Gendry, awkwardly standing behind them. She gave him an odd look but started talking to Jon anyway. 

She started speaking quickly and out of breath, "You're alive. When that errand boy came up to me saying you were waiting for me in the infirmary, I was so scared you had been injured! Don't ever do that to me again," She playfully hit his arm. 

He could see Jon was about to open his mouth to speak but Lady Sansa cut him off before he could even start.

"Were you the one? Did you kill him?" She was serious now. 

"No," he looked down, "It was Arya. That's why I called you here."

"Wh-what are you talking about Jon?" She barely managed to get it out. He could that she understood what he was saying. She just really didn't want to accept it. 

This time Jon looked up at her as he spoke softly.

It was barely a whisper, "It's not me that got hurt," he had to take a minute before he spoke again.

"It was Arya". 

Chapter Text

Not five minutes ago Sansa had been so happy. Happy that both her brothers were alive, and for the most part, uninjured.

Only moments ago she had been relieved when she heard Arya had killed the NIght King. 

But she can read Jons expression when he says Arya was injured. She's almost too afraid to ask what happened. Sansa doesn't know if she can handle seeing another family member injured. Or, gods forbid her little sister had died. 

But she can't let herself think the worst of the situation. No matter what Jon's face had expressed. She is the Lady of Winterfell, and she has to be reliable. Sansa must not let her calm and collected facade falter. But, she can feel herself trembling as she goes to ask the dreaded question. "Where is she? I need to see her." she's barely keeping it together. 

She looks at Jon waiting for him to either respond or lead her to her sister. He goes for the latter. She thinks it's because he cannot bring himself to speak without breaking either. 

He turns around and starts walking farther into the hall. Only now she notices just how many injured men and women fill the room. The cots have been organized in neat rows to make it easier for the maesters to walk from person to person. Every bed had been filled, some of the injured had to be placed on the ground or a table because there just wasn't enough room. 

She could hear every whimper, scream, and cry. The sound of people dying had filled the room. The sounds weren't the only things filling the room. It smelled of burning flesh, blood, and mud. She was sure this was the smell of death. Sansa didn't know if she could unsee all of it. 

Suddenly Jon had stopped, she nearly ran into him. It seemed the man standing next to Jon earlier had followed them to Arya's Cot. He had already moved to her side and sat down. It appeared he wouldn't be leaving. She looked at Jon to get an answer. 

Jon seemed to know what she had been thinking, "They were friends when she was traveling. She trusted him with her life apparently," to this Sansa just nodded. 

She looked at Arya; this was her first real glimpse of her sister since she had been given the Dragonglass Daggar and told to go to the crypts. She looked so different now, and it had only been a few hours

She was paler than she had been, and she had a bandage around her forehead that was soaked in blood. Her whole body littered with deep purple and blue bruises. 

But the most remarkable thing was the hole that had torn through her body. The sight of her poor little sister caused her to inhale sharply. Just a few hours ago, she had been whole, safe, and ready to fight. Now she was dying, looking like she had been through hell. Sansa wished she could rewind the clock and make her sister go to the crypts with her. But that wasn't going to happen. 

Arya also seemed to have old scars that littered her body; the most noticeable were two right under her ribs. She didn't want to think about what she had gone through to get those.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the maester quickly rushed past her with bandages in one hand and a sewing kit in the other. He made Gendry and Jon move aside so he could work on Arya. Sansa watched as he quickly started sewing Arya's skin back together as neatly as he could for the time constraint he was on. He then gently turned her on her side so he could stitch her back up. 

That's when Sansa realized whatever she was stabbed with when straight through her. It was terrific her sister was even still alive.

By the time the maester was done wrapping her bandages they were already soaked in blood. He then turned his attention to the three of them. 

"It's astonishing Lady Arya has held on as long as she has. I've done everything I can." He was done for a moment, but they could all tell there was a but coming. 

It did, "But, shes lost too much blood. And I wouldn't be surprised if she was still bleeding inside. The blade pierced a hole through her. I've seen grown men die from less. I am truly sorry, but, I do not think she will make it to the end of the night," he looked down, ashamed. 

"No. No no no no no," Sansa had tears in her eyes now, "Sh-she cannot die. She is strong, stronger than anyone I have ever know," she was fully crying now. She knew she should be reliable, but, she can't hold it together anymore.

"I'm sorry Lady Sansa. The only thing to do now is to keep her comfortable and stay with her," With that, he walked away to attend to the less injured. 

"Sansa, It's going to be okay" Jon kissed the top of her head, "We should have her brought to her chambers. It'll give us more room, and will be more comfortable."

She nodded, "Okay, I will meet you up there. I-I should get her bed ready." She walked away from Jon and the other man who hadnt taken his teary eyes off of Arya. She would make sure to ask about that later. 

Sansa had gone up to Arya's room to get it ready for her. After a short time the door opened, The Hound and the other man were carrying the cot Arya laid on into the room. 

They carried her to her bed and gently laid her down, pulled the covers over her and were walking back to the door. 

"Wait," she looked straight at Gendry, "I would like to talk to you," she made it clear as to who she was talking to. He stopped in his place and turned to look at Sansa. Sandor just snorted at the young lad, looked back at Arya with big eyes, and then walked out the door closing it behind him. After he had left Sansa turned her focus back to the young man standing in front of her.

"Yes, m' lady?" he asked, looking slightly worried. 

"I can see that my sister means something to you. The thing is I have no clue as to why that would be. Tell me," it wasn't a question, "How do you know her? And why does she mean so much to you?'' She motioned for him to sit in the wooden chair opposite of her, by the fireplace. 

He was hesitant, but he walked toward her and sat down in front of the dying fire. He opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out. This caused her to raise her eyebrow at him, awaiting him to start speaking. "Well, to start, my name is Gendry Waters the bastard son of Robert Baratheon. I met Arya in kings landing," a small laugh escaped his lips. "At the time she was dressed as a boy, but I figured it out, and she told me who she was..."

Sansa listened to him speak about his and Arya's travels for gods knew how long. It was a long story. Every once in a while pausing to check on Arya and change her bandages. Or change the cold cloth on her forehead. 

At the end of his story, Sansa finally spoke, "You love her." this did not seem to be a question either.

He inhaled and then responded, "Yes," it was as simple as that.

Just as he had finished speaking, the door opened, and Jon entered the room. His eyes went straight to her and Gendry and began to walk over to them while starting to apologize. "Sorry, it took me so long. I had help deal with some much-needed cleanup," He hadn't said what that cleanup was, but, she knew anyway. There had bodies covering almost every ground surface. The last thing they needed after so many casualties was a disease that would bring more death and destruction. 

"No worries," she offered him a faint smile, "Gendry and I were just talking about how he knew Arya." She looked out the window not realizing it had gotten considerably much darker since the last time she checked. 

He nodded. She watched as he turned his attention to Arya. He had not seen her in many hours due to other duties. Sansa noticed how his face dropped seeing the condition his youngest sister was in.

She was so pale she might as well be translucent.

Her lips so chapped they were starting to peel.

Her breathing was heavy and uneven.

And her fever so bad her whole body was drenched in sweat.

"There has to be something we can do. Milk of the Poppy. O-or anything else,"

"Jon," Sansa did not want to break into tears again.

He sighed already knowing the answer, "I know," He walked over to the desk and pulled the chair out from under it and over to Arya's bedside. Sansa decided to do the same. Standing up from her seat by the fire and moving her place next to Jon's. Gendry was not far behind her, except he moved his to the opposite side of the bed. He was giving the siblings some room. 

It had gone quiet minus the sound of the wind howling outside, and the crackling fire that lit up the room with a soft orange glow. 

Arya's breath hitched. This caused the three of them to hold their breaths, wondering if these would be Arya's final moments. But alas, she continued her heavy, uneven breathing. It seemed as if they had all held their breath and could now exhale. They all stared at her. 

It seemed Bran had entered the room without anyone noticing. When he started speaking it startled all of them. "It shouldn't be long now," he said looking straight at Arya. 

This caused Sansa to have a pained expression on her face, looking across to see Gendry had tears in his eyes. He must truly love her she thought. She felt Jon's hand intertwine with her own. By looking over at him, she could tell they were thinking the same thing.

Their sister was nearly gone, and they could do nothing, "How much time does she have left?" she heard Jon ask.  

Bran kept his stoic expression. "None," he stated. 

It had her taken aback. She quickly turned her attention to Arya.

Her chest was barely rising as she inhaled until it just didn't. Jon started to cry, and the tears from Gendrys eyes silently fell onto the bed. 

She was gone.

Arya was dead.