Since it’s a speculation about the future I had this… weird idea… I honestly lost hope about knowing what is going to happen in twow or ados but I asked someone that knows… ( I sang her a song, I didn’t have to kiss her btw)
Something old lingered in that place, Arya could feel it into her bones as she watched her breath turn into a small cloud fading into the night. She could hear something whispering through the trees, the leaves and the howling wind having a secret conversation, the night sky dark and menacing like a bruise, no moon, no stars, only a trembling fire casting long shadows through the camp.
Something old came from the night.
She noticed her as the figure emerged from the woods, small, long white hair almost touching the ground moving along the shadows, the flame burning slower, its light shy as the ghost approached.
Swift as a deer Arya moved from her cot, the voices turning clear as she got closer hidden like a mouse, Lem and Tom, Thoros and Beric were there too, talking with the small woman. The ghost talked about her dreams, too old for kisses and wine they said she was, dead kings, dead lords, squids, a black dog, a wolf howling in the rain… Arya felt a chill run down her spine as she tried to decode those words, riddles ancient and yet new, painting the future the ghost saw in her dreams.
A twig cracked behind Arya, she turned around startled, someone had caught her spying.
It was just Gendry, of course.
- What are you doing here?- he whispered, as if he cared about not giving Arya’s position away
- The same thing you are doing!- she snapped, her eyes still focused on the queer woman, she had red eyes like Jon’s direwolf.
He snorted and got closer - Making sure you are not running away and getting yourself killed?-
What did he care about anyway… he had chosen the brotherhood, he was the one getting himself killed, she did not care for sure.
- I don't want to speak to you…- this time she turned around to face him, glaring at him with her silver gaze.
He scowled unsure about what to do, if Arya wanted to hate him for not being her playmate forever she could suit herself, fucking highborns.
Arya focused again on the small woman, dreams of clangor and bells, a maid slaying a giant in a castle made of snow, words that made no sense to her.
- You cannot hide from me child, come into the light…-
Arya’s heart jumped in her chest, the voice of the ghost loud and adamant, a cold sensation at the base of Arya’s neck. The woman’s mouth opened in what once had been a smile but now resembled more a grimace, like the ones painted on mummers’ and actors’ masks.
Arya was no craven, she was brave like a wolf, she was not afraid and so she stepped from her hiding spot, Lord Beric looking at her with an indecipherable expression.
The woman studied her, her red eyes seeing inside Arya, burning through her skin. Arya breathed in the night air, she was not afraid, her eyes looking straight back at the ghost not allowing herself to look down.
She called her a child, a wolf child, a blood child… her old hands, in anger, or fear, or folly, closed around Arya’s arm like old bones, her nails digging into Arya’s skin.
-I thought it was the lord who smelled of death…- cried the woman
-You are cruel to come to my hill, cruel. I gorged on grief at Summerhall, I need
none of yours. Begone from here, dark heart. Begone!- Arya winched, the woman’s cold grip driving blood from her, something older than fear in those unnatural eyes.
- Let her go! - Gendry’s voice thundered as he took Arya from the woman.
Arya didn’t need his help, she glared at him and opened her mouth to just say so when the ghost laughed, an unnatural laugh, like a screeching of old stones, bloodchilling.
- Let the children be… there’s no harm to them…- stepped in Thoros, his face lit by his precious flames.
- Rain is coming …- the ghost stared at the sky, her milk-white hair moving with the wind, something whispering to her, something Arya could almost feel, something as old as the north talking to the small woman.
Arya took a step back bumping into Gendry, he seemed as confused as her looking at Lord Beric for an answer, an order, an explanation.
- Old faces, old curses… nothing good comes from them…- croaked the woman
- I can tell you what I know, boy, what the weirwood whispers to an old shadow… I can smell the blood in you, dangerous blood to have… I’ll tell what I know… my price a kiss… -
Instinctively Arya turned to look at Gendry, his expression still, like a deer faced with a hunter's arrow.
- What? No!- he said after a second
- Don’t you want to know what blood runs in your veins, the storms that made you, the days that were and the days that will come?- continued the old figure, grief and hunger in her whole being
-No…- continued Gendry, his hand still holding Arya’s arm
- I don’t care about your visions!- he finally said, the flame flickered again under the wind turning almost to embers, it smelled like rain.
Staring in the dark, those ancient red eyes, Arya wondered what those eyes could really see… in dreams… in the wind…through time and space… she wasn’t scared…
Arya had dreams too… wolf dreams… were those just her mind playing with her?
Were the gods trying to tell her something?
- I’ll give you your song! Let them be… or Lem will keep his promise and you’ll meet with his steel… - said Tom, not a sign of his proverbial humor in his voice
The small woman kept her stance.
- Old… so old…. what a curse… It’s been so long since I have known the warmth of a kiss… I’m nothing but old bones and old flesh… You like denying an old woman of her last pleasures… pity… I have never kissed king’s blood…-
Goosebumps on Arya’s skin, was it a curse that those who saw the future had to speak in riddles? Thoros opened his mouth as if to speak, his eyes never leaving the dying fire.
- Look in your flames pink priest… but not here… this place belongs to the old gods… not fond of your fire… you’ll see my words are right… I’m but what remains… fading like mist in the morrow…-
Arya bit her lip, she was not scared of the crone, not like Gendry or Lem or Tom or even Thoros… she was a wolf… the old gods protected her too… and so she spoke…
- I’d kiss you to know the future, what do you see? Do i get to my family?-
Tom coughed twice to hide his laugh, saying something about her being crazy.
- Are you gone stupid?- Gendry’s voice behind her, his hand still holding her in place close to him
She ignored him, he didn’t listen to her, not about the things that mattered, she was not going to listen to him.
- Please, my… - Arya had no idea how to address the small woman
- I need to know!- her mind thinking about Robb and mother in Riverrun, Jon at the wall, Winterfell and it’s walls so high and safe, the smell of home and food, she was so close, if it hadn’t been for the brotherhood she would have already reached them, she was sure.
- Ney! Stay away from me… I don’t need your sorrow… you smell of death… stay away!- thundered the crone
Arya stomped her foot on the ground, like a child throwing a tantrum, she wanted to know, she needed to know what the future was holding for her.
- I’ll stay until you talk! You’ll have to bear my smell of death until you tell me what I want!- spoke the daughter of Eddard Stark, she left Gendry behind her walking straight in front of the woman favored by the gods
The ghostly figure winced, her eyes closed, listening to the wind.
- Let her be Arya! She has already suffered a great pain! Go back with Gendry…- Lord Beric spoke
- Ney, your Grace… too late… Child… you’ll have what you ask… and may we never meet again, dark heart!-
Arya could feel the anger in the woman’s voice, the pain, but she wanted to know.
The storm was approaching, heavy clouds upon them carried by the wind, a silent lighting, no thunder.
- You are destined to great sorrows child, your tears will never dry on your face, I hear war cries, beasts howling, blood on their fangs and on the ground they run upon… and yet home gets further away… always a step out of reach… you’ll see through many eyes and yet all you’ll see will be death… I can hear waves crashing against waves as a giant welcomes you… and where the lights never go out I see darkness… death… and at the end, if someone comes home, wolf child, it’s no longer you…-
Arya’s nails were digging into her palm, she was a liar, a stupid liar like everyone she had met since leaving home!
- You’ll cry tears of blood upon stone, upon snow… I see golden eyes, silver ones too… and…-
The crone stopped for a moment, as if sniffing the air around her
- You’ll not find your family in riverrun… a different fate awaits… the twins… a promise, a vow, a wedding… you’ll never find the ones you seek…I see only death on your path beware…-
- You are a liar!- cried Arya
- I can’t change what awaits you… my eyes are not mine alone… my ears have lived a thousand different lives… If you don’t like your fate the fault is yours and of the painful road that comes… and yet… you’ll be granted something I can only dream of…-
Arya took a step back, her heart thundering in her chest, she did not care what the small woman said, she was going to get back to her family one way or another, no matter the price.
- …you’ll see spring…- the ghost spoke as if speaking a curse
- Now Begone! Away from this old bones!-
- Tom, I’ll have my song, the same one…- breathed the woman putting as much distance as possible from Arya, sitting on the ground close to the singer
- Let’s get back Arya…- Gendry’s voice almost startled her
He guided her away, their backs to the fire, a sad melody filling the air.
- And boy…- they froze in their place
- You’ll soon learn the price you’ll pay for the brothers you chose… death hanging from the same trees that you’ll hide behind… orders from a heart of stone…stone… and ice… stolen steel… you’ll find one half and mend what it’s broken… a ghost of a long lost king you’ll never love… a name you’ll never have…and I can hear voices… of whom you’ll meet and of whom you have met… and as snow falls south all roads will cross again…-
Gendry kept walking, trying to ignore those cryptic words, nothing good came of knowing one's future… for what he knew no bloody gods were whispering to the woman… and if pain and death was all she could promise it was just because they lived in a world made of those things.
- You’ll learn to listen… you’ll have the chance…sweet irony… they’ll have blue eyes… but your children will be nothing but wolves…-
The words of the woman got lost in the wind as Tom kept playing his song, the figure now only crying holding herself and rocking back and forth.
Arya cursed and kicked a rock while Gendry kept dragging her back away from the fire.
- She is a liar… she is just old and crazy and wants our wine…- spat Arya, the words she had just head haunting her mind and turning into tragedy
- Of course, Arya… Don’t believe a word she just said… no one can see the future… and who says he does is a fraud like my master said ‘bout Thoros… She did not make sense… we will take you to your mum and brother no matter what!-
Gendry tried to reason with her, looking at the anger simmering in her eyes.
- Yes… to get some gold…- she replied, cold
- I’m not doing it for the gold!- he said back
Arya said nothing and sat down in her place, her arms crossed. A light turned the sky yellow and then it bruised to black again, and as the thunder struck came rain.
Someone cursed, someone kept sleeping, only a few noticed… as she had arrived the ghost of high heart was gone… faded back to her mist and woods…
- She was right about the rain…- spat Arya feeling the cold droplets fall on her skin
- Aye, the sky was dark since noon and I’m sure even Anguy could smell the rain coming… Easy to see the future when it’s happening already… listen to me Arya… she is wrong… she doesn’t even know what she was talking about… like you heard all that bullshit ‘bout my blood or something… -
- Maybe your blood is important…- she said flatly, her skin hurting where the nails of the small woman had pierced her skin
- My blood is worth shit… if they had given her some more wine she would have started calling Lem king and Tom his sweet lady of the forest…-
The rain was pouring, Gendry’s black hair wet and sticking to his forehead, too mad to be distracted by the storm.
Arya smiled, maybe he was right, maybe the woman’s words had been that… just words…
She had cried and prayed for death, she had killed and spilled blood… and maybe her heart was dark, full of hate and she smelled of death… but her future was going to be different…
- Feel better?- he asked her after a few seconds ignoring Lord Beric’s squire complaining about the rain waking him up
- Now let’s find someplace dry to sleep in…- he said, the matter over.
They did not speak anymore of the words heard, not Arya’s curse to suffer and lose herself and what she loved, not the wedding at the Twins, not the eyes she was supposed to see through… they did not speak of wolf children nor the ghost’s dream of spring…
Arya thanked Gendry when he gave her a dry coat; they had found shelter together with Jack and Harwin between the trees.
- Still hate me now?- smiled Gendry stretching close enough to her
- Are you coming to Winterfell with me?-
He did not answer, but she heard all she needed to hear.
The silence hurting as much as the unspoken answers to their questions.
A troubled sleep fell on the camp, rain soaking them to the point of fever, haunted dreams in a haunted place.
All I know is future flickers, still unwritten, but if you listen to the weirwoods on a starless night, as the wind howls tales of things that will become, if you close your eyes and let the dreams come… between all the bloodshed… and the cursed thrones and heavy crowns… between ice and fire… you’ll see a winter that must be braced to once again witness spring… you’ll see some good and some bad… and if you wait long enough you’ll see two children someday meet again.
Hope you liked it <3<3 Thank you to everyone who read and a huge thank you to everyone who made beautiful works for this appreciation week, my gendrya shipper heart was very very happy.
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