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It is a beautiful wedding, it truly is. Classy and stylish but still with a nice, warm atmosphere. Funny, too. Her brother and Talisa have done well she thinks. The whole day has looked liked them and not some stiff, formal event filled with pleasantries and no real feelings like some of the awful high society weddings she has been forced to attend.
She sits at the table, absentmindedly looking at the couples dancing, playing with her napkin and sipping her wine. A few seats away Bran and Jojen are laughing silently, wrapped in their own world. As Meera stands up to get another drink from the bar, Rickon follows her, no doubt trying to get her to smuggle a drink for him, too.
And suddenly, standing next to her, is Gendry, his blue eyes fixed on her.
"Come dance with me."
It’s been a month since she last talked to him properly but there he is now, looking at her, waiting.
She had woken up in her old bedroom, the house full of familiar sounds as all her siblings were for once there at the same time. It was so much like it had always been: family members coming down to the kitchen for breakfast one by one, her father reading his newspaper, lazily lounging on the living room afterwards, playing a game of soccer with Rickon and Jon before lunch.
All the jabs, endless banter, Theon making some obscene joke, Rickon breaking something. It was hard to believe they no longer lived there, that they were all adults now (well, maybe not Rickon yet) and one of them was actually about to get married in a few hours.
But after lunch Sansa dragged Arya with her, practically pushed her to the shower and told her to come to her room so they could get ready together.
By the time she emerged from the shower Ygritte had arrived, too, and was sitting on Sansa’s bed, her dress for the wedding already on. And all the better, she had brought a bottle of champagne and three classes with her.
“Okay, this taking hours to get ready doesn’t sound so bad anymore”, Arya smiled as she took one of the glasses.
Sansa was doing Arya’s hair when Jon walked in the room with his phone in his hand.
”Who are you texting?”
”Just Gendry,” Jon mumbled keeping his eyes on his phone, not noticing how Arya’s eyes snapped up to him.
“He's complaining about having to wear a tie. Apparently he's not so good at tying one.”
Arya rolled her eyes.
“Stupid,” she muttered.
Sansa was more helpful.
“Just tell him we can do it once he gets here.”
Arya turned her head to Ygritte, trying to ignore the thoughts of Gendry and his stupidity.
”So tell me more about this idiot trying to steal your parking space," she told her and Ygritte launched right back into the story that had been interrupted by Jon's appearance.
Yes, Ygritte and her stories about threatening people, that seemed like to perfect distraction to keep her from thinking too much about stupid Gendry with his stupidly beautiful hands that apparently could not handle a tie and how stupidly good he was no doubt going to be looking in the suit he was so uncomfortable being in. Yes, distraction, that was indeed needed.
"Come dance with me."
His blue eyes are watching her intently, with that same soft look that always gets her. He's waiting, patient as ever.
For the life of her she can not find the words but nevertheless she finds herself extending her hand out to him, to let him take it and lead her to the middle of the room.
His hand is warm on hers, his grip as steady as always. As he pulls her to the dance floor it feels as safe as it always has, even now when she's more nervous than she can ever remember being.
It's weird, she thinks, how he can simultaneously make her nervous and still make her feel so safe. Just by holding her hand, just by being there.
Wise men say
Only fool rush in...
Oh fuck.
Of course, it has to be the cheesiest, most over-the-top romantic song she can think of that he has chosen to ask her to dance to.
Once they are among the other couples he stops walking, turns around and pulls her closer to him. She leans her head near his chest. His hands wrap around her waist, holding her close to him.
His hands are firm on her back even as they keep a small space between them. She thinks how easy it would be, how natural it would feel to just move a little closer. But no, she can't do it, because that's not what they do. Not here, not now, not in front of everyone, not anymore.
"You help him, I need to go talk with mom before the ceremony starts," Sansa told her as they walked through the front part of the venue and see Gendry near the doors.
He seemed to have just arrived as he was standing near the doors, looking around as if searching for familiar faces. Arya didn't have time to point out that it had actually been Sansa who had promised to help Gendry when Sansa had already hurried further, waving to Gendry and gesturing vaguely at Arya. So she just pursed her lips and walked up to him.
"Well come on then, let's get it done," she said, annoyed and pushed him into a chair so she could reach his neck better.
"Not straining my neck just to do your stupid tie," she muttered.
Her hands started working on the fabric, twisting it fast. But she might have been going too fast, since when it was done, she was not happy with the outcome. She sighed, frustrated. Just calm down and get over with it.
"Maybe I should have just gotten a clip-on."
She rolled her eyes. A clip-on? Seriously?
"Maybe you should just learn how to tie a fucking tie. It really is not so difficult. There's like a million videos about it on YouTube, you know."
"Yeah, well, those really got me nowhere," he mumbled.
She huffed, starting to work on the tie for the second time, a little slower now.
"Right."
She pushed the last bit through the knot and fastened it, getting the tie straight and nice. "Okay, you're good," she said with one last pull on the tie.
"Thanks," he said, and then, as an afterthought.
"Arya..."
But she was already turning away.
"I've gotta go."
"Arya," he repeat, and she turned halfway back around to look at him.
"What," she snapped. He looked at her sheepishly.
"You look nice."
She swallowed, unable to say anything, and blinked at him for a moment.
There was a tightness in her chest and it was all way too much for this particular moment, there in the lobby, when the wedding was minutes away from starting and she really should have been greeting all the relatives she hadn't seen for god knows how many months or years. So she just let her eyes meet his for a second and nodded before turning away and walking towards Sansa who was standing on the other side of the room talking to their mother.
She was really not a fan of these things but she had to admit in this case, even the ceremony was okay. Sweet, even. It was not too long and yes, it kind of was beautiful the way Robb and Talisa spoke about each other, how sincere and how in love they sounded.
Next to her, Sansa was crying pretty much from the first sentence and she will never admit it to anyone but she had to quickly swipe off a couple of her own tears before it was all done. Of course Jon, standing there next to Robb met her eyes just then and he just had to smirk at her. She sent him a stare warning him to never say a word to anyone and he just chuckled.
As Robb and Talisa started walking from the altar, Arya turned to follow them go. Suddenly, she felt eyes on her and saw Gendry looking at her intently. For a moment she just held his gaze, and it took all her focus away from what was happening, it felt like every sound and movement in the room was a blur. But then she tore her eyes away from his and turned to Sansa, ready to walk to the reception.
"You ok?" Sansa asked.
"Why would I not be?" she asked, trying to act not affected by anything in the room.
"Just can't wait to get a drink," she said.
She could see Sansa was not convinced, her ever observant sister always knowing when someone was trying to hide something from her.
"You're the one who's been crying her eyes out," she decided to say in an attempt of steering the conversation into a different direction. It seemed to work - or Sansa decided not to push her - as her sister just shrugged.
"I can't help it, I cry at weddings, it's my thing."
She rolled her eyes at her sister.
"You drink champagne at weddings, too, right?"
Sansa grinned.
"Definitely."
Take my hand
Take my whole life too..
What the actual fuck is this? How is it that there are no regulations as to how sappy a song is allowed to be?
And she seriously needs to re-evaluate her judgement on this wedding, too, right about now. Because, surely, Robb and Talisa had approved of the set list for the band and who in their right mind would ever give the green light for a song like this? No, a song like this should never be sung, anywhere. But still, it is sung, and she is dancing, and Gendry is holding her close to him, his hands as steady as always.
For fucks sake, she thinks and when he pulls back a bit to look at her she realizes she has actually said it out loud.
"It's just this song," she explains.
"It's ridiculous."
Another thing that really should be illegal, in Arya's opinion, is the way Gendry chuckles in her ear. It's sending tingles down the side of her neck and an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach that is too reminiscent of the things he has made her feel before. Before, as in, before the last few weeks, before she told him they could not go on the way they had been, before he stopped coming over to her place almost every day and texting her all the time.
"Why don't you just talk to him?" Jon asked as he moved to lean against the bar next to her.
"Excuse me?"
Jon sighed and pressed his lips together, raising his eyebrows and serving her with a look that told her to cut the bullshit.
Arya took a sip of her drink, releasing a long sigh herself. For all they teased Jon about being clueless of what's going on around him, he was surprisingly observant sometimes. Especially when it came to her. She guessed that's how it was with someone who could finish your sentences - a habit of theirs they so easily fell into.
"Look, it really not my business and I don't even really know what's going on between you two but I do know it's not normal for you guys not to talk to each other at all in an event like this, " Jon said.
"And don't tell me you weren't just looking at him, because I know you were and I also know he was looking at you with the exactly same expression like ten minutes ago."
She took another sip, trying to buy herself some time to figure out what to answer.
"There's really not that much to say."
"Did you guys have a fight?" he asked.
"Not really."
No, there had been no fight. Just a conversation she did not want to think about and a month when they hadn’t seen each other except for those couple of time they accidentally happened to be in the same space since they shared the same friends and he was friends with her whole family so it was inevitable that they would run into each every now and then - and even at those times they had awkwardly avoided each other the best they could. A month that had felt like an eternity.
Jon looked at her all concerned and big brotherly. She could feel the lump forming in her throat again so she swallowed and closed her eyes trying to calm herself.
"Hey," Jon whispered, soothing, and threw his hand around her shoulders, pulling her closer.
"It's gonna be alright, whatever it is," he assured her.
She buried her face into his shoulder, basking in the safeness that was her brother.
"'Cause I can't help"
By the love of god.
Now the idiot has started humming in her ear, no doubt just to annoy her. She smacks his shoulder.
"Stop it or I'll make sure the thing you can't help doing is crying from the pain my knee caused to your balls."
"I think you should really seek some help since the first thing you always resort to is violence," he answers, not much affected by her threat. He stops singing though.
"And don't act like you don't just hate all love songs in general," he continues in that highly annoying way of his.
She leans back to roll her eyes at him.
"I don't hate all love songs."
He looks at her unconvinced.
"Okay, so what love songs do you like?" he challenges.
She tries to search her memory but can only come up with songs about break-ups or missing someone or something that has absolutely nothing to do with love.
"I can't even think with this ridiculous thing still playing."
"You just don't like any love songs," he teases, all smug now.
"I like Perfect day," she blurts out in a hurry. Yes, that's ok, she thinks, a perfectly fine romantic song she doesn’t hate, but Gendry just snorts.
"That's not a love song,” he laughs, shaking his head.
“Yes it is!” she insist.
“Nope, it's about drugs."
"Whatever," she huffs, smacking his shoulder once again.
"Stop hitting me," he laughs, clearly happy he has managed to win the argument and get the last word.
And as she lowers her head and moves back to hold it closer to his chest, he pulls her tighter against him. She lets him, leaning her head against him, her face almost pressed against his neck. The way he moves, swaying slightly from one side to another feels more clearly now that he is so close and his hands slide just a little bit lower on her back. She takes a deep breath and hopes he doesn’t notice it’s a little bit shaky.
Just calm down, she tells herself. Not like you haven’t been this close to him before.
But no, that is definitely not the right thing to think about. It’s the one thing she has been trying to avoid thinking this whole damn day. And then - as if the way he presses his chin against her temple or how his thigh brushes her hip when he switches his weight from one leg to another aren't enough to completely distract her from every coherent and appropriate thought - he starts stroking the small of her back with his thumb.
She takes another shaky breath, deciding this dance is already a lost cause, so she might as well give in. So she lets her head stay where it is, pressed against him and raises her hands, letting them rest little more comfortably on his shoulders. And if her fingers seem to caress the hair on his neck on their own accord then so be it, it’s not that big of a deal, right? They stay like that for a little while, holding each other close, not saying anything.
The song is coming to its end finally, and Arya isn’t sure what she wishes will happen once it will finish.
“Arya,” he says, quietly.
“I’ve missed you.”
She feels the dread washing over her again, the want to run away. But at the same time she feels frozen to the spot.
“Don’t,” she manages, and continues, before he has time to argue.
“Not here.”
He takes a step back away from her and she lets her hands fall from his shoulder.
“Come on,” she whispers, grabs his hand and starts pulling him from the dance floor.
She leads him out of the hall and through the doors to the terrace in the back of the building, pulling him down the steps to the garden and down the paved path.
There’s a nice little spot with a bench near a small pond, sheltered by some tall bushes so there is no way of seeing it from the terrace. There are some people wondering in the garden but this particular spot is luckily unoccupied.
He sits on the bench and looks up at her, as she smooths the skirt of her dress just to do something, to calm her nerves. She’s pretty sure she hasn’t been this nervous ever in her entire life but she’s also pretty sure she needs to do this now. It’s Gendry, her friend - who, actually, has been something else, too. So she needs to just be brave, she tells herself.
He looks a bit nervous, too, as he sits there, eyeing her. She really can’t blame him after what she told him a month ago and after she dragged him here like she did just a minute ago.
It’s him being nervous too that settles her a bit. It’s Gendry, she thinks as she finally dares to meet his eyes. They soften immediately, the way she knows oh so well. He still looks nervous though, so she steps closer to him and raises her hand to his cheek, her fingers brushing some of his dark hair away from his temple. She can see him relaxing as she touches him, the smallest of smiles forming on his face.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she whispers.
They just stay there, breathing for a moment. Then, as his hand comes to rest on her hip she steps even closer to him, her other hand coming to his collar, near the tie she tied earlier and she leans down to let her lips meet his.
Their kisses have rarely been slow or calm or tender, really. It’s always been about need. But right now they move in a deliberate pace, blending into each other. As she lets her lips leave his, she presses her forehead against his. His thumbs draw circles on her back and she thinks it’s weird how such a small gesture can make her feel so safe. Sounds of cheering and clapping hands wafts from inside the building and Arya lifts her head up, looking towards the venue.
“We probably should go back inside.”
“Yeah,” he agrees quietly and stands up.
“We’ll share a cab home, right?” she asks when they are reaching the back door.
“Yours or mine?” is all he asks.
She can’t help it, she just has to say it.
“You sure I didn’t just mean to split the cost?”
He shakes his head and reaches his hand to throw it around her shoulders and pull her close to him.
“Sorry but we’re going to the same place tonight. You can’t get rid of me.”
His voice is confident and she decides she likes it, the certainty it makes her feel.
“Okay.”
It’s definitely not all settled yet and she still doesn’t know how she would describe their relationship, but it’s okay for now. They’re friends and they’ll figure out what the rest of it means.