Work Text:
“I don’t know how to read,” Gendry tells Arya. It’s a skill taught to the highborn, another simple little thing that shows the true gap between their statuses. Years ago he would have been more bitter, he would have used it to justify why he could never be with her. “Not much point in teaching a bastard kid how to read when you want him to use a hammer.”
Arya frowns for a moment before sliding out of their bed. She grabs a book off her desk and some parchment. It takes more time to find a quill and ink but eventually she finds everything she needs. “We’ll just have to change that. We can start with little words and read from books together in the library. We all learned to read from the simple books in there. If you don’t like them I’ll write you something myself.”
Gendry’s heart feels full at the sudden rush of adoration he has for the incredible woman in front of him. For all her harsh edges and pointy words, Arya is the most amazing person Gendry has ever met. She’s not always nice but she loves her pack fiercely and isn’t afraid to show it. He’s forever grateful that he finds himself included in her pack. “You’d write me something?”
“Anything you want.”
“Anything?”
“Gendry,” Arya rolls her eyes. “Are we going to start or are you going to keep repeating me?”
“Your name,” he blurts out, scratching the back of his neck. “I, uh, want to learn how to read your name first.”
Arya smiles and quickly writes out the letters as neatly as she can. “Here.”
Gendry allows Arya to guide his fingers over the four letter word and he touches them gently. “Arya.”
“A. R. Y. A.” Arya points out the letters. “Want to see what yours looks like?”
“Can I try and write yours first? Seems a little silly to not learn how to write the most important word now that I know what it looks like.”
Arya snorts and calls him a stupid bull but shows him how to hold the quill anyway. It takes him a few attempts and his writing resembles a child’s scribbles more than Arya’s own writing but he can’t help but smile at her when the word finally comes together.
Arya.
She shows him his own name and few other simple words, words she tells him are always in letters and books. Little words like and, the and a. They practice reading for hours until it’s time for supper and the candle has burned low. His head hurts by the end of it but it’s worth the soft smile on Arya’s face and he pretends to be busy fixing his tunic when she slips the first piece of parchment inside the cover of the book they’d been leaning on.
Tomorrow he’ll learn more words. By the end of it he’ll know hundreds but Gendry already knows he’s found his favourite word.
Arya.