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He almost collapsed when he saw her.
All breath shot from his lungs, the beating of his heart stopped, his brain froze on the spot.
Arya, on the other hand, looked as calm as ever.
As if they weren’t staring down an actual wolf the size of a horse.
He thought it was a wolf, anyway. It was much, much bigger than Jon's.
“Stay still,” she said, not taking her eyes off the wolf.
Well, yes, he hadn’t been planning on lunging at the thing anytime soon. He didn’t think his feet would move from the ground even if he wanted to.
He couldn’t find the words for a response. She moved from his side, slower and gentler than he’d ever seen Arya move.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He whispered, eyes wide and mouth agape. Was she about to try and fight off a fucking direwolf?
Seven Hells. He’d always assumed that Arya Stark would be the death of him, he’d long accepted it, he just hadn’t considered death by direwolf.
“Nymeria.”
Oh.
The name fell from her lips so softly that he barely heard it, but he did hear it. Nymeria.
This wasn’t any wolf, he realised - it was Arya’s wolf.
He watched her as she slowly kneeled, reaching her hand out to gesture to the animal.
Gendry wanted to move, wanted to get her out of the way, wanted to lift her into his arms and fucking run. Every instinct he had in his mind and body was to protect her, but he knew she didn’t need protecting. She was smarter than he’d ever be - a better fighter than he’d ever be, too - and she seemed to know what she was doing.
“Arya..” he breathed hesitantly, trying to keep his breathing steady whilst his heart hammered heavily against his chest.
“It’s okay, girl,” Arya cooed and Nymeria started to step forwards. Her moves were slow and calculated, as if she were still sniffing out her surroundings.
Gendry supposed that’s exactly what she was doing. Or, she was luring them into a false sense of security before she ate them for supper. He couldn’t be certain.
Arya seemed to be though. Every bone in his body tensed as the wolf reached her, mere inches away from her face. Arya adjusted her hand slightly, and after a hesitant few seconds, pressed her palm against the side of the wolf’s face.
Despite his fears, the wolf didn’t bite or even growl at Arya’s touch. In fact, she seemed to lean into it. Seemed to seek it out, desire it, as if Arya's touch was what she'd come looking for.
Nymeria appeared to soften to Arya and the delighted laugh that fell from Arya’s lips may have been the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.
“Where have you been, girl?” Arya whispered, as she slowly bent her legs to move from her crouched position to kneel on the ground. “Where’s your pack?” Almost instantly, Nymeria lowered her head, nuzzling into Arya’s stomach.
He heard a strangled whimper as the wolf as the wolf lay down completely, her head now resting on Arya’s lap. She stroked her neck, hands running through the wolf’s thick fur coat.
It was only when the wolf laid down that Arya and Gendry both spotted the dried blood soaking her fur.
“She’s hurt,” Arya said, and it took Gendry a second to realise she was now speaking to him. When he didn’t immediately respond, she glanced over her shoulder at him, and something in her eyes told him an injured direwolf was about to become his problem.
“She’s yours?” He asked quietly and Arya nodded, almost sadly.
“She was, once,” Arya said as she turned her attention back to the wolf. “I thought I’d lost her for good.”
Gendry didn’t know what the fuck was happening, watching her in astonishment as she gently stroked the direwolf. He was just wondering how she’d just failed to mention the wild beast taming power that she apparently had.
“She needs me. We need to get her home.”
“If you want to throw her over your shoulder, be my guest.”
“Go back to the castle, find Jon, bring back a cart. Some blankets, too,” she instructed, ignoring his quip.
Arya Stark never failed to bloody amaze him.
He did as he was told, and within an hour, Nymeria was laid out in front of the fire in Arya’s chambers, Arya by her side cleaning the blood from her fur. It didn’t seem to be her blood, so it was safe to assume whatever (or whoever) had got on the wrong side of her was now dead.
“Why does she keep looking at me like that?” He asked Arya warily, wondering if she also saw the threat of violent murder in the wolf’s eyes whenever he spoke, or if it was just him.
“She can sense that you’re afraid of her,” Arya shrugged, as she gently stroked the wolf. “She thinks it’s funny.”
Is it normal for pets to share so many similarities with their owners? Is it normal to have a direwolf as a pet?
“I’m not afraid of her,” Gendry stuttered, clearly afraid of her. Arya glanced over her shoulder, mockingly quirking an eyebrow at him. “Alright, I’m a little afraid of her.”
Personally, he thought being afraid of a wild beast that was almost as tall as you, with fangs that could rip your throat in a second, was quite sensible.
Apparently sensibilities were lost on Arya, although he’d known that from the second he’d met her so he could hardly complain.
“She won’t hurt you,” Arya smiled, bringing her hands far too close to Nymeria’s mouth for Gendry’s liking, tickling beneath her chin as if she was a bloody kitten. “Not unless you give her a reason to, at least.”
“...Is that meant to be comforting?”
“Well yes. She knows she doesn’t need to hurt you,” Arya spoke so casually Gendry was starting to question if she knew they were discussing the probability of her pet wolf ripping his head from his shoulders. “She knows our pack.”
Did he fully understand what she meant by that? No. Was he about to ask? Also, no. Was he running out of things to be confused about?
He assumed it was a good thing, if it was the reason he wasn’t going to end up as wolf food. He’d heard Arya refer to her family as her pack a couple of times, so it couldn’t have been a bad thing.
“When did you last see her?”
“When I was on my way back to Winterfell,” Arya answered, a hint of sadness in her voice that others may not have picked up on, but Gendry did.
“And?”
“She had a pack of her own then,” Arya frowned, pausing for a moment in thought. “She was their leader.”
“Maybe Bran will be able to tell you what happened to the rest of them,” Gendry suggested with a shrug. “You think she’ll stay here now?”
“I think so,” Arya whispered. “I hope so. So you’ll have to stop being so bloody frightened of her.”
If he thought he couldn’t love her more, the wondrous glint in her grey eyes and the thoughtful smile pulling at her lips told him he definitely could.
Gendry might spend the rest of his life absolutely bloody terrified. But the smile it would bring to the she wolf who owned his heart would make every second worth it.