#bastardbulloftheforge

[agirlofwinterfell]

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[notaprincessaqueen]

“If you have a nightmare, I’m going to be right here for you.” - bastardbulloftheforge (Gendry to his bby sister Myrcella)

sharing a bed starters | selectively accepting

The chubby little face tilts up, green eyes wavering at the prince with welled up tears. She sniffles, holding out her arms to him. “Promise?” she questions plaintively. Gendry is the only one, in all six years of Myrcella’s life, who has ever been able to calm her after a bad dream.

[agirlofwinterfell]

"I saw the test in the trash" - bastardbulloftheforge

Confront Arya About A Pregnancy test - ft @bastardbulloftheforge 

He wasn’t telling a lie, he’d placed the test and the box upon the counter. She feels anxiety well in her belly, and chews her lip hard enough to draw blood. “Are you mad at me?” Is the first thing to fly out of her mouth. “Please don’t be mad, I didn’t intend to- I wasn’t…” It was an accident. Evidently somewhere, a condom broke, and Arya had been left with the consequence of that.  “I’m not a slut,” It’d been a thought in her mind for too long, and in a broken whisper it falls out. 

[agirlofwinterfell]

“ as you wish. ” -bastardbulloftheforge (remember that au we discussed?)

Her heart stops, and she freezes with it. She knows that voice, she knows those words. “Gendry…” She breathes out, as the smith does just as she’s said, before near throwing herself after him in haste to catch up. “Why didn’t you tell me- Say anything?!” She asks, yanking on his arm, smacking his shoulder, releasing her breath with eyes wide and filled with so much emotion that her own heart hurts to process what she is feeling. 

“I thought you were dead… I thought you were..” Her breathing is heavy, as tears fill her eyes. 

[agirlofwinterfell]

"Oh no, God forbid I take a break!" - bastardbulloftheforge

@bastardbulloftheforge

The crying is too much for her, the desire to stay in bed and not wake up. She’s left it unfairly on Gendry’s shoulders while she keeps her thoughts to herself, and it seems the babe is too much for even Gendry now, as Arya seems to fail at bonding herself to her own child. She feels horrid, how she bonds so easily with others’ children, and yet not her own. He just wants her to take the babe, and Arya can’t- she throws her book on the ground and leaves in tears. She wants it to feel right, holding her babe, but it doesn’t, and she hates herself for it. 

“I can’t- I can’t do it!” 

[agirlofwinterfell]

"Can love be cured?" -bastardbulloftheforge

@bastardbulloftheforge

“No, I don’t think it can be.” 

Did Arya want to be cured of her love for Gendry? She didn’t know, all she knew was her suffering in silence hurt, and now he was asking questions about love... she wondered which pretty girl from the village had caught his eye. 

“Love is... endured. Suffered, I suppose,” Arya is really starting to hate the turn their forge night talks are talking. 

[agirlofwinterfell]

continued with @bastardbulloftheforge

“I am bloody trying! I am trying to explain so that I can do that!” He was shaking, seeing the black eye he had given her making him feel sick to his stomach. Gods, he had been trying so hard not to be his father, so very hard. Why, just why did his reaction to her grabbing his arm be to swing at her. What had he done. It had just been a simple argument about what color to paint the spare room and he had… all he had seen upon her grabbing his arm was being back in that house.

All he had felt was his mother’s iron grip grabbing him and intending to slap him for some slight his father had done and thinking the tall dark haired male was the drunk bastard… and he… but it wasn’t his mother, it was Arya and he had hit her. Never forgive me for this, he wanted to scream, curse me and throw me out. Tell me you never want to see me again, anything so I never hurt you again, even by accident. The words hide in the back of his mind and he wants desperately to beg her to toss him aside for what he had just done. I love you and I just hurt you….

The one thing he had always feared more than anything was becoming Robert, it had been part of why he had changed his last name from Baratheon to Waters. He sinks to the floor, his tall and muscular frame looking far smaller as he tries to hold himself together when he just wants to fall apart. “Please… please, oh gods…” Why wouldn’t the words come out? Why couldn’t he tell her to hate him? It was just like how they would not come out each time he has tried to tell her that he loves her.

“A piece of shit like me don’t deserve you…”

Her eye throbs from where his fist has connected, as she’s torn between holding it and throwing a fist back, except, she knows it wasn’t something he’d done intentionally, and yet it still hurt her. Physically, and emotionally. She’d seen bruises that other girls sported, but her parents had never given her this talk. What to do if this happened. 

It had been mostly innocent, a lighthearted argument if anything, on what to paint the spare room. She’d put on her jean shorts, and a t-shirt, put her hair up in a bun, and they’d argued over the cream can of paint, and the soft yellow one. She’d reached for him, grabbed his arm as he turned around, and the next thing she’d known she’d been on the ground, crying into her own hands. 

She’d just wanted an apology when he’d started with his excuses- she didn’t care why, she just wanted an apology.  She’s breathing heavy into her own hands, and she looks at him, and Arya notes his looks so small, but she can’t right now. 

“Yeah, after that, you’re right. Don’t deserve anybody hanging around if you feel the need to hit them. I might be back later,” She says, before leaving, slamming the front door behind her. She hides her face as she goes to the park, takes a cigarette from a hidden packet there, and has a smoke. She’s not often one for smoking, something she picked up from Merry when she was stressed- something to do. It beat drinking, something Gendry didn’t really allow in the house. 

Arya wasn’t dumb. She knew she couldn’t forgive this. Didn’t even know half the time how Gendry felt about her, unable to tell her half the time. She’d grown up with constant assurances from Jon, and Bran, and Father, just how much she meant to them, She’d wanted the same for a relationship. Gendry often showed it instead, which made this... so much worse. 

She doesn’t return for hours, slipping in the door when it’s dark outside, sun having set and the moon out, and shutting it slowly, taking short steadying breaths. 

“I think we need to talk,” She says when she sees him again. Shifting almost uncomfortably, seeming more closed off from him than ever. 

[agirlofwinterfell]

“I’m no good for you.” - bastardbulloftheforge

@bastardbulloftheforge 

She’s 18, and shouldn’t have been sniffing around Gendry and falling into his bed anyway, that’s what her mother would say. ‘He’s 23, shouldn’t be letting girls fresh out of high school into his flat anyway!’ None of them would approve. He wasn’t born with the same privilege that Arya had, her family had, chances are more than a few of them would look down on their noses at him.

It had started so innocently. They were just friends, and that’s what they continued to tell everyone even after Arya’d fallen into his bed that first time, and the next, and the next… 

Arya didn’t care, and she started to shake her head in response. “No, that’s not true.” He’s feeling guilty, she can see it. She was 16 when they met, and she’s just praying he hasn’t started to see her as that girl again, still knob-kneed and too skinny, not eating enough to grow into her curves, dancing too much to stay still, even when Gendry asked nicely. 

“What’s brought this on?” She knows, it’s always been there in the depths of his mind, but right now, she’s kneeling in front of him, as he sits on the edge of his bed, looking up at him imploringly, eyebrows lowered as she takes his hands in hers. 

“You’re plenty good for me. You’ve looked after me when others wouldn’t, never done anything wrong to me- You’re more good for me than you know.”