Aside from the few nights after her attack where Gendry had not slept at all until one night he could fight it no more, every night had them in each other's arms, his wrapped firm around her, protecting her and preventing her from wandering off or being taken from him. She clung onto his arms just as tightly. But that was never how they fell asleep and neither was it how he allowed her to awaken for he always waited until she was asleep before encompassing her in his arms and always awoke and left before the morning dawn woke her. Until the morning of spring in the middle of winter where he had woken to her teat in his hand, her ass in his groin and his mouth on her neck. At first he had blamed sleep on putting his body where it was and for continuing down the path they took. Twice he had tried to stop her. Both times her lips on his made him forget. He had forgotten that he was a low born bastard and she a highborn lady. He had forgotten that they were unwed, that he was privy to taking her maidenhead, that she would forever be tainted by him, marked as his.

In King's landing he had known a few whores, they were nothing like Arya. Arya touched him gently, where the whores had been less so and he had only hoped to be gentle enough in return. If he had ever met the whores' eyes, they were dead behind the smiles and screams. His wolf had not screamed, but each of her groans had made his cock twitch within her and her eyes had shone brightly with life as they locked with his, each of them thrusting in a dance far better than when she danced with swords and daggers. They had been mid kiss, each swallowing the other's groans when his world had splintered and he had grunted down on top of her.

She was pressing sweet kisses to his neck as his breathing came back under his control, their hearts beating against each other where their bodies met as his weight still pinned her beneath him. Shifting he allowed his cock to move free of her and he knelt above her, allowing her to breathe without a weight upon her. Quickly he risked a glancing look of her face and he saw a peace upon it that confused his thoughts as he then pulled away. Reaching down to sort himself out and tie his breeches, Gendry saw blood between her thighs where his own bastard seed spilled from her and he quickly stood, shaking his head.

"I shouldn't have done that." Retrieving his shoes, Gendry walked away from her without risking a glance back and without concern for their separation. No matter what he had ever thought he felt for her, having never truly known a woman before, never truly having a friend nor anyone that cared for him enough other than to get him an apprenticeship, Gendry had always known that he was the lowborn bastard and he always would be. One day she would become someone again, emerging from Arry, Weasel and Nan, even if it was not to be as a traditional lady of a house. She would never make a Lord a good enough wife, but he would never make her a good enough husband and the likes of him should never be more than a smith for a woman grown like her, let alone take her maidenhead.

GOT – GOT – GOT