Her Blacksmith, His Princess

Gendry

Gendry had taken Arya twice more during the night, however neither were as fantastic as the first, as great as they were.

He began moving his fingers in small circles on Arya's back. Some hair had fallen out of place so he swept it behind her ear. The movement woke Arya, but peacefully. Her eyes opened slowly and fixed on his as a soft smile broke out on her face.

"Morning," he greeted her with a smile of his own.

She laughed and looked out the window, "Yes I suppose it is morning." Then she leaned even more on top of Gendry and kissed him. He didn't think it was meant to be a deep, passionate kiss, but it was. I'm about to lose control, he thought excitedly.

Then she pulled away, a mischievous grin on her face, "I'm not going to let you off so easy, Gendry. What sort of whore do you take me for?" She mocked a scoff before getting off the bed, not bothering to cover anything up.

"You're killing me woman," he joked. Suddenly Arya stiffened. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's nothing," she mumbled, "I just don't like that word very much."

Gendry was concerned. He had no idea what his friend had been through in the five years they were apart. He should have known better though, with all the shit she had been through. Fucking idiot.

"Arya?"

"Yes?"

"What happened to you after you ran away?"