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Arya nestled into his arms when they had finished, resting her head on his chest and laying an arm across his torso as if she could hold him any closer than they already were. Gendry pressed a kiss to her forehead as one hand played idly with her hair. The warmth of the furs was nothing compared to her warmth, and the bitter chill outside was forgotten.
He thought she had fallen asleep and was halfway there himself when she spoke, nearly scaring him out of his skin.
“Remember Bella?”
“Pardon?” He tilted his chin down, blue eyes meeting grey.
“Bella. The girl at the Peach, back when we were with the Brotherhood.”
He squinted, thinking back all those years. “The one with the big tits?”
“All whores have big tits,” she informed him authoritatively.
“Really?” Gendry grinned at her. “And what do you know about whores, Princess?”
She tried to elbow him in the ribs, but their position made it easy for him to grab her arm and hold it against his chest. Arya wiggled, but didn’t pull free. “More than you,” she challenged.
“Of course, m’lady.” She settled for sticking her tongue out at him like a child, and he grinned again.
“I hated her, you know. We only met that once, just for a few minutes, and I hated her for so long. I could never figure out why,” she said.
He remembered now; a girl with dark hair and blue eyes who told him she was the King’s daughter. Gendry wanted to laugh with the irony of it all – two King’s bastards meeting in a brothel, on the run from war. (Thank R’hllor he hadn’t slept with her, he thought, though even then the option had never truly crossed his mind.) He remembered Arya being surly for weeks, though he had always assumed it was because they’d had a fight that night.
“You were jealous,” he laughed, almost shocked. “Arya Stark of Winterfell, jealous of a whore.”
“I was,” she admitted, brow furrowed, “I just didn’t know it then.” She laughed, too, pressing her face to his chest in an attempt to hide the sound. “Gods, you were jealous of Ned Dayne, weren’t you?”
“No,” he said stubbornly, but made no attempt to mask the truth.
“I never liked him, you know. Not like that. He told good stories, but he was a stupid boy like the rest of you.”
“I know that now.”
“It all seems so long ago,” she commented, and for a moment she seemed terribly sad.
“We were children,” Gendry agreed. “We’re not, anymore.”
“Certainly not now,” she said wickedly, and he bit back a gasp when she grabbed his ass under the furs.
“Behave yourself, Lady Stark,” he said sternly.
“Not bloody likely,” she snorted.
* * *
She thought for sure Gendry was asleep when he suddenly spoke again. “What made you think of Bella?”
“She asked me if you liked girls, after you rejected her, and I was just thinking that I could tell her the answer for sure now.”
Wrapped in each other’s arms, they laughed.