‘I'd like to thank you for sharing your writings on here, they are absolutely brilliant. Could you write this prompt ? The other blacksmiths notice that Arya, the lady of Winterfell visit Gendry quite a lot since his arrival and the people start talking about it behind closed doors. Sansa hear about it and decide to go see him to understand what's going on and who is he to her sister. Thank you!!’
‘Prompt : Gendrya is often seen together and it is known that Arya visits him quite a lot in the forge. Sansa is curious, but when she asks her sister for details, she doesn't get answers. So she decides to talk to Gendry to find out more about him and the role he has in her sister's life. Btw, your writing is just so so so good. You always do an excellent job xx’
author’s note: thank you, anon(s)! a lovely prompt to pick. also thank you, anons! your kind words mean the world to me. hope I do this prompt justice! :)
-Sansa and Arya, before their reunion, weren’t ever close. sure, they’ve always been sisters by blood, but the normal idea of sisters - where they share secrets, talk about boys, dream up their futures - was just never them.
-Arya was the tomboy, to put it lightly. Sansa had always thought her mother’s heart was broken by Arya’s refusal to adhere to the expectations of a little lady, and she knew deep down she was at least somewhat disappointed to have a daughter that wanted to be more of a boy than her sons did.
-not that she had so much of a problem with it that she’d discourage Arya, though. whenever the topic arose, their parents would slyly suggest that, as Sansa was, Arya should train to be a lady, too. despite this, whenever Arya undoubtedly declined this ever-so-kind offer, they’d simply share a look and let her get on.
-nowadays, though, Sansa thinks they’d act differently. there’s no doubt in her mind that they’d be beyond proud of Arya’s accomplishments (the greatest and most recent one being single-handedly saving the whole of Westeros, of course) and they’d finally see Arya’s dream as she had her whole life.
-Sansa wasn’t innocent in all of this. she’d be the first to admit that, as a young girl, she’d been naive. she’d believed all the songs and their lies. she’d lay awake at night, smiling to herself, dreaming of a story where she was the kind-hearted queen and her husband, the handsome prince Joffrey, was finally crowned king. those days were beyond over.
-now, though she had been scorned so many times, she still hoped for love for Arya. her little sister who, as she had come to learn, had been through so much whilst isolated, Sansa wasn’t sure if she could have survived any of it. actually, to amend to that, she was positive she couldn’t. there was no doubt about it: Arya was the strongest person she had ever known.
-this being said, Sansa knew that strength didn’t automatically mean a life without sweet songs and lovers. she couldn’t pretend to remember a time when Arya had shown the slightest interest in anybody - no tall boys, nor short boys, gentle boys, pretty boys, nor pretty girls. Sansa couldn’t rule anything out in these progressive days.
-that was true, until recently. news had spread rather quickly to her from the forges of Winterfell. it was heard that her sister, late of an evening, would frequent there, and seemed to have taken a liking to one of the young men there, whom she had heard was called Gendry.
-then again, Sansa though, this was unlike her sister. even if she had been gone for so long, she couldn’t have changed so much; Arya didn’t trust people this easily. could it be that she knew the man already?
-she tried her sister, once. twice, then she gave up. all she had received in response was a shrug of the shoulders, dodgy eyes, and a blur where Arya had been seconds prior. the ultimate avoider of questions, her sister was, amongst other things.
-this was what set Sansa up in her task. one day, purposefully not of an evening so as to miss Arya, she set off walking, until she found herself outside of the forges. she greeted the first smith she saw with a warm smile, and nodded in acknowledgement as he tried to bow eloquently, and said, “my lady.”
-”is there a man by the name of Gendry here, at all?”
-she cut straight to the chase, seeing no need to fumble about with small talk. after all, she had come for a purpose, and had done the minimal amount of speech to show mutual respect; now was time for business.
-the man nodded instantly, and said, “oh yes, lady Sansa. he’s right in there, right now.”
-she smiled a little, warmed by his frankness and how he seemed so eager to help her. “would you mind showing bringing me to him?”
-the man instantly dropped the bucket he was holding, and the water inside splashed over the edge with his haste. he wiped his brow of sweat, leaving a long smudged line of black across his forehead, then nodded and bid her follow him.
-inside of the forge was, as to be expected, hot. there were men bustling about, chatting, all engrossed in their work. a few turned to look at her as they saw her enter, while others didn’t see her at all. she remained cool.
-the man walked slightly ahead of her, making sure to keep looking back at her every so often to ensure her safety and that she didn’t get lost. he stopped rather abruptly, almost making her walk into him, then apologised and gestured to a man stood before him. she thanked him and he left.
-the man - Gendry, she assumed - was quite tall in stature, or at least significantly taller than her sister was. his hair had been cut right down so she could make out the shape of his bare head, and his blue eyes glistened as they looked at her, undoubtedly wondering what she was doing at his station.
-”my lady-” he moved to kneel, seemingly not one for bowing, but she stopped him and signaled he needn’t do such a formal thing.
-”Gendry?” she asked, voice calm yet still audible over the hammering and roaring flames.
-”yes, my lady,” he still looked flustered, and checked nervously behind him like there had been some grave mistake. “is something wrong?”
-”no, not at all,” she assured him, but then squinted a little and suggested, “can we go somewhere quieter?”
-her ears, now ringing, barely heard him mutter yes, but she followed him anyway when he made to move away. they stopped in a room adjacent to the forge, though one that was thankfully much quieter. he waited for her to sit first, then sat across from her.
-”I’ve heard you know my sister, Arya,” she did not forget to register the sudden fear that pooled back into his eyes as she mentioned the name, “you needn’t justify anything, I’d just like to hear how you know each other.”
-he looked as though he considered running, but decided against it. for this, she instantly recognised the pairing as a potentially good one: having the same fight or flight reaction to her interrogation told her they were of the same mind, and so would likely agree on a variety of matters.
-she watched him, not too intensely, but so that he knew she was actively ready to hear what he had to say. he shuffled, fumbled with his fingers and tried to scrape the dirt from under his nails, then began to speak nervously.
-”well, I-” he met her eye, squinting, hesitant, “can’t you ask Arya about all of this? I mean, not that I’m denying you any- I’ll tell you anything you want, I just-”
-”she won’t speak to me about it,” Sansa cut him off to prevent his nervous chatting, “so I thought I’d come to you.”
-he nodded, seeming to understand, then launched into a narrative of how they met. he told her of how, just after the beheading of Ned Stark, a scrawny boy had joined them on their way up to the Wall. the boy, whose eyes had seemed too big for his head and whose hair had stuck out at every point it could, the boy who had almost been eaten alive by Lommy and Hot Pie who he felt the overwhelming need to protect. the boy who carried castle-forged steel, the kind Gendry had only seen when he’d sold it.
-he told her of when he’d found out she was a girl - Arya Stark of Winterfell, no less. he told her with flushed cheeks how he had discovered so when talking rather crudely about cocks and pissing. his whole face softened when he told her that she’d told him her true identity because she trusted him. and, with the softed voice of all, he told her he’d kept her secret the whole time.
-then he began rambling on about how he was so stupid - such a bloody fool - because, from what Sansa could gather, he’d been sick and tired of living the same life, and wanted a change. from what she could see, he’d never regretted anything more, because he looked suddenly like he might cry. the remaining soft part of her soul drove her to interrupt him.
-”what about when you reunited?”
-he looked up at her, eyes puffing. she smiled encouragingly, careful to remain still pleasantly interested, and he sniffed before he indulged.
-”that... that was the best day of my life.” Sansa felt like she were one of the ladies in the songs she used to love so dearly, living vicariously through Arya, “I’ve never been happier than when I saw her walk through that archway and threaten the Hound.”
-there it was. the factor that was undeniably real-Arya, not fantasy-lady-with-lover. then again, Sansa proposed privately, perhaps that was the best part about the story.
-she leaned back slightly, then felt the corner of her mouth quirk up as her brain sparked and ignited, lighting one final question in her mind. her voice remained steady - confident - as she asked it.
-Gendry’s eyes did not shoot open, like he’d been caught in some great, elaborate lie. he momentarily stiffened, having not been anticipating the question, but soon relaxed as his mind seemed to return to her sister. she watched him smile absently, and then he said it - the one thing she needed to hear.
-she nodded, unable to contain her beaming smile any longer. she stood, bid him a good night and told him to work safely, then she was leaving, the trail of her cloak running behind her, the sound softened by the snow outside.
-she did not stop smiling until she was far away, wandering without purpose to nowhere in particular. she thought to herself all the way, and these thoughts were unnaturally beautiful - like the ones she hadn’t allowed herself to have in so very long.
-this was more than the songs she had grown up singing. this was more than her infatuation with the Prince. this was more than any lord and lady she’d seen walking gallantly along the roads of any of the places she’d been to. this was more than her dreams, it was more than Robert and Lyanna, and it was even more than her parents.
-this was Arya and Gendry - her sister had found love! - and she knew this was something for people to tell stories about for generations to come.
