Cursed

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"There's something you're not telling me," Davos said, sitting back to back with Gendry through the bars of the cell.

"You're right," Gendry sighed, "there's a girl,"

"And why am I not surprised. Let me guess. A real beauty. Big tits and flowing hair. Loves to prance around in dresses,"

"The exact opposite really. She's beautiful though. But she's annoying, and tormenting, and to say she's half my size, she has a mouth three times bigger. And she loves to fight. She has a sword called needle. Pretty little sword too. And she has scruffy hair that she cut so it would be safer to travel with, because it meant she'd look like a boy, which wasn't too hard because she's quite flat chested. And even though she's all these things that most would hate in a woman... I can't help but just... I don't know. She's... she's everything the red woman isn't,"

"And why isn't she with you now then?"

"I left," 

It was silent for a while.

"I don't know why I left her. It was honestly the biggest mistake I've ever made. And not because of the leeches or the death sentence... they say you don't know how much you... love someone until they're gone. Well, I know that I love her, and the worst part is that she can never be mine."

"Nonsense. Anyone can be anyone's. Nothing can stop something like love."

"She's Arya Stark of Winterfell."

"And you're Gendry Beratheon. Come on, I'm letting you go find her."

"But, what about Stannis?"

"I'm old. And nothing should get in the way of love. Ever. Even Stannis knows that,"

"You're not that old,"

Davos was startled by the compliment. When they got to the boat, and Davos had explained everything to Gendry, he was pulled into a hug.

"Thank you... I'll never be able to thank you enough for this,"

"You know what, lad? You deserve it. You're good. In here," he pointed too his chest, "never let anyone change that,"

And with that, the rowing began. And Gendry had plenty of time to think. 




I could go back to the Smiths... but she wouldn't be in King's Landing. I could try hotpie's shop. Yes. Hotpie's shop. She was bound to show up there. Oh, what's the use? She looked like she hated me that night.

"I can be your family,"

Those words swam through his head the entire time he was rowing, no matter how much he tried to distract himself. He couldn't even find a word that would be appropriate in describing what a fool he'd been. The best thing he could do was to let life go on. Hope she'd move on. Maybe go to Winterfell, maybe go anywhere BUT Winterfell. 

He imagined a thousand conversations between him and Arya. A thousand ways he'd beg her for forgiveness. A thousand reactions. A thousand times he'd drop to his knees, or help her without her knowing, removing his helmet and kissing her like in the stories he knew filled many books. Though, deep down he knew that non of that was the right way to go about winning her back. It would take a lot of work. He'd forge her something. Something nobody else could forge but him. 

After a few days he had made his choice. He would travel, and pray to any gods that existed to keep Arya safe. For the years to come, her touch would become a distant memory. Her smile would stay only in his heart, rather than before his eyes. His father had the same luck with the woman he loved, or so he'd heard in the stories.Maybe he was cursed to do the wrong thing to matter what. Maybe he would never get her back. He could only pray that she was okay. And that is what he did.

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