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Valentine’s Day had fatefully fallen on a Friday, to which Gendry had expressed his delight of being able to lounge on their couch after an excruciating week of work.
That had meant a night in covered with bags of crisps and beer bottles whilst she kicked his ass at another round of Mario Kart which he insisted he ‘was going to win this time’. It had meant watching him stare at her in the corner of her eye as if she couldn’t tell he was staring. It meant feeling her insides blush as he finally pushed the trash away and kissed her on their couch; his hands running through her hair and his hands wandering to lands further south.
It had used to mean a complete rejection of the capitalistic bullshit she had associated with Valentine’s Day, a night she spent frowning at the grocery aisles stocked with heart-shaped chocolate boxes and ridiculous teddy bears. But it finally had meant a little something after she kissed Gendry for the first time in the back booth of their favourite seedy bar. She had still retained her utmost disgust for the supermarkets and their stupid chocolates, but she now spent that night gorging on unhealthy food and bad films with someone she could tolerate.
Instead, she was stuck in the hospital with her head in her hands while Gendry rubbed her back and she held back fat, ugly tears. Because she had begun to like Valentine’s Day when she learnt her boyfriend was a bit of a romantic. And after seven years of what she knew was steady domesticity, of course, she found fewer things to hate about a seamlessly innocent holiday.
Except for this particular night of course, while she watched nurses and doctors stick tubes up her father’s nose. Watching her mother begin to weep and Robb’s stone face with Theon to his side trying to coax a word out of him while bouncing their three-year-old on their lap who was as blissful and ignorant as a three-year-old usually was.
She felt Gendry’s hand run down her hair.
“He’s going to be alright love,” he whispered to her, moving his hand down and squeezing her shoulder.
She wanted to believe him, she truly did because after all, when did Gendry ever lie? Not when he told her she was beautiful after being maliciously bullied once again by Jeyne Poole at her first school dance. Not when he said he loved her for the first time whilst eating burgers on the bonnet of his worn-out truck. And not when he pulled out a ring that belonged to his mother and asked her to marry him when they were sitting on their couch.
She wanted to believe him but she couldn’t, not with everything going so tremendously downhill.
She looked at that ring as it sat snug on her finger and prayed to believe those words. But the starkness of the hospital walls and the sound of her mother sobbing for the husband she had for all those years. It hurt more as she watched that relationship she had subconsciously idolised her entire life, slip away into nothingness.
“When did you meet Dad?” she had asked her mother after the day she and Gendry were officially ‘engaged’.
Catelyn had been more than ecstatic to learn that Arya was the second in the family to marry; not Jon with his job being far too remote nor Sansa with a long trail of abusive boyfriends or Rickon whose only brain cell was devoted to ways in which he could further dent the family car. And not even Bran who was joined at the hip with not only Jojen but Meera Reed too.
“I was dating his brother at first,” her mother laughed and tapped her wedding ring against her wine glass, “But he died during his deployment.”
“So instinctually you started going out with his brother?” Arya asked wide-eyed.
“Your father and I were probably more connected emotionally than Brandon and I ever were. Your father knew how to look after me without making me feel useless and I fell in love with that. He never pushed me to feel a certain way about him, never pushed his feelings on me when I wasn't ready. I didn’t even have to change a part of myself to be with him when we were finally together. It makes you want to resolve every fight because you don't want to stay hostile with someone you feel safe with. It will never feel right.
Arya went silent and thought of Gendry and how every fight they had, stupid or serious, was resolved nearly as quickly as it was instigated. She thought of how he never put her in a position where she felt caged, but simultaneously she knew he kept her safe in the ways that mattered.
Because she wanted to spend her life with the person who wanted to see her flourish and Gendry wouldn’t change a hair on her head.
She stared at her broken mother, the one who so fondly loved her simple wedding band and the arms of her husband. Who loved her children and drove them equally mad.
“He’s meant to walk you down the aisle, he’s not going to miss that for the world,” Jon told her and she looked up at her brother.
Yes, walk her down the aisle for the wedding she never thought she would have. Not until she met Gendry and realised her life was spent rejecting norms so she wouldn’t be like her sister. But much to everyone’s surprise, including the man in question as well, she had said the simple three-letter word that changed her life and his for the better.
She found Gendry’s hand and squeezed.
“He’s going to be alright, isn’t he?” she whispered in his ear and he managed a sad smile down at her.
“Yeah, he will,” he said, and he squeezed her hand back tighter, “You know that.”
She closed her eyes and leant her head against his shoulder, feeling him kiss the crown of her head lightly.
“I’m sorry this is how Valentine’s Day turned out,” she whispered and she felt him shake his head.
“I’m with you, that’s what matters to me,”
Sap, she accused in her head. Because only Gendry had the power to turn her to into an incomprehensible pile of emotions.
“I love you, y’know?” she looked up at him and felt tears begin to well, “I really do.”
He brushed away the salt with his thumb and leaned to rest his forehead on hers.
“Of course I know,” he told her, as serious as he could be with their noses touching, “I love you--”
“Mrs Stark?” a voice called.
Her mother shot up, her auburn hair wild and so did the children.
“Your husband is going to be alright,” the doctor said and the hospital waiting room all seemed to take a deep breath, “He’s absolutely stable now, you can all relax.”
Arya let out the sob she had caught in her chest and she moved onto Gendry’s lap to wrap herself entirely around his giant frame.
“You were right,” she told him and held on tighter as his arms came around her waist, “You’re always right.”