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Gendry found her in the godswood, curled up at the base of the great heart tree with her cheek resting against the smooth white bark. The tree dwarfed her, and despite her gleaming armor and the sword at her side, he was struck with how small and vulnerable she looked. For all her power and fury, Arya was but a maid of fifteen. We are all too young for this war, he thought sadly.
Her grey eyes opened as he sat worldlessly at her side. He searched her face anxiously for any hint of what she might be feeling, but found only the bone-deep exhaustion they had both become far too acquainted with.
“The last time I left Winterfell, I didn’t come home for years,” she said finally. “That was the last time I saw Mother and Robb, did you know that?” He hadn’t, but he doubted she truly expected an answer.
Arya ran her fingers up and down the bark of the tree, tracing patterns Gendry couldn’t see. “Father used to sit here and polish Ice – his greatsword,” she added, as if he hadn’t memorized every Valyrian steel sword in existence as a child and dreamed about the chance to even see one. “Bran and I would play in the springs and climb the other trees, but the heart tree was always Father’s place.” She sighed quietly. Gendry shifted, wrapping her in his embrace and letting her rest her face against his chest.
“We never should have left.”
“You did,” he told her softly. “You can’t change that, and it wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted, and he knew how difficult those words were for her. “I’m scared if I leave again, I’ll never come home.”
“You’ll be back,” Gendry swore. “We both will. When all of this is done, we’ll come back to Winterfell and you’ll never have to leave again.” He would stay, too, if she would have him – he had no idea where he would go, otherwise. He pushed that thought away and held her closer.
“What if we don’t? We won’t all survive this war, Gendry. None of us may survive at all, and-”
“We will. We’re both too damned stubborn to die, remember?” She laughed at that, and he counted it as a victory.
He would have held her there forever if he had the choice, but he had come to find her for a reason. “Lady Sansa is looking for you. The lords are gathering in the hall before we march this morning.”
Arya looked up at the pale dawn sky tiredly. “I’d best go, then.” She made to get up, but Gendry held her tighter to his chest, just for a moment.
“We’ll be back, Arya. I swear it.”
She smiled, and kissed him in front of the gods.