Gods, but he had never been so nervous. He could feel his calloused palms sweating as he stood there in the sanctuary, feeling her father’s glare alongside that of her eldest brother and mother. Hell, all of them were glaring save Jon and Sansa, and he tugged at the collar of his tuxedo anxiously. This fuckin’ tie’s a noose more’n anything, he thought, trying fruitlessly to loosen it up. His frustration must have shown on his face or in some small utterance he himself was not aware of because his bride’s sister came to him, her thin fingers working the knot in the tie and loosening it so that he (hopefully) would not die. Gendry gave her a grateful look."I’ve to go check on Arya. I’m her maid of honour, remember?" she said gently, giving him a gentle pat on his shoulder. "You’ll be fine. And don’t worry about them. You’re good for her. They’re just…well, it’s no wonder where she gets it from.”He took her wrist in his large hand, not ungently, and pulled her back to peck her cheek. ”Thanks,” he said gruffly, scratching the back of his head awkwardly as she started to the door that led to the room where Arya was finishing getting ready. Sansa smiled at him courteously as she laid a hand on the doorknob. ”Of course, Gendry.”
