Arya Snow and Gendry Waters: Just Two Bastards

I Don't Want It

The windows in the great hall were poorly covered for the war. Planks of wood had been hammered down to protect the people inside. Not much light came through.

When Arya woke, Gendry was finally sleeping. He spent the majority of the night wincing and shaking, and Arya would try her best to console him. He was still and quiet, but he was alive. Thank the gods. She knew better than to wake him.

Arya slowly untangled their limbs and climbed away. She returned with a platter carrying fruit and bread and milk. Arya ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him on the forehead. Even in sleep, he smiled at her kiss. She smiled too. She didn't worry for him too much. The wound wasn't too deep, and Gendry was strong. He was a fighter, like Arya.

Gendry's eyes opened his eyes and yawned. He saw Arya and immediately smiled like a boy. "Good morning," he moved his arms to lift himself. Arya took one of his forearms and helped him.

"You didn't sleep long," she said. "You need sleep if you're going to heal."

"I'll heal fine, Arya," Gendry looked at the platter of food she brought. "With the right company. And food."

"Food! I almost forgot," she quickly picked up the tray and placed it on Gendry's lap.

"You didn't have to do all this," he said, admiring her.

"Of course I did," Arya took a berry and ate it. "Who else would do it?"

"I would," he looked offended.

"You almost died last night," she made him look at her. "Let me take care of you."

Gendry rolled his eyes. Arya's laugh made him laugh. She leaned in and kissed him. When she pulled her lips away, smiling, the doors to the hall opened. The Queen entered with no one else.

"Good morning," she sounded angry. "I'm happy to see you're looking well, Gendry."

"Oh, I'm sure you are," Arya said as she moved in front of Gendry.

"There's no need to get defensive, Arya. I'm here to apologize." Danaerys smiled.

"Why?" Arya asked. "You got what you wanted. You have the throne."

"Not rightfully," she smiled. "It isn't mine, lawfully."

"Why does it matter?" Gendry pitched in.

"Because," she peeked around Arya to look at him. "For my whole life, it has been mine, I've always known it. There have been so many people keeping me from the throne, and now there's only one."

"I don't want the throne," Arya said. "Renounce my title, make me a bastard again— do anything. The throne is yours. I don't want it."