A/N: This one's a belated name day gift to Maisie_Aryafan...sorry about how late this is! But still, belated happy name day! I hope you like this one :)

And credits to GRRM for one of my favorite quotes in the book...you'll know when you read that part :)

He woke up to the sound of the wolves howling in the distance.

On instinct, his hand crept over the space beside him and was surprised to find the space empty. She must have left his side at an early hour judging by the coolness of the sheets under his warm hands. Savoring the last few minutes in bed before starting his day at the forge, he turned over so he was face down on the mattress, burying his face underneath the sheets and pillow she slept on. Her scent still lingered on them, making his face break into a smile. When he heard the entire castle starting to stir awake, he decided he could dally in bed no longer. Swinging his legs off the side of the bed, he sat there for a moment as he ran his fingers through his dark, sleep-tousled hair before finally padding barefoot across the room to get dressed.

When he finally walked out of the castle, the first thing he did was to check the forge. His apprentice was already in the back, nodding his head at Gendry before holding his work upon the swage and striking it with the sledgehammer. Rickon was there too, which is not an unsual thing for the young Stark lord. He had been hanging around the forge more lately, much to his lady mother's and sister's annoyance. The younger lady sister, on the other hand, seemed happy about it.

"Gendry," Rickon said, raising his head from his work to give his greeting. "Starting the day early?"

"Actually," Gendry said with a smirk. "More like trying to find your sister early. Have you, by chance, run into her on your way here?"

Rickon made one last strike of his hammer before turning back to him. "Last I saw her, she was at the training field practicing swords with knights."

Gendry patted Rickon's shoulder before turning around to head out. "Thank you, little brother."

Rickon's face beamed at the endearment. "Well, good luck in finding her!"

Gendry waved a hand to Rickon as he exited the forge, with the training yard next in mind. Passing by a few more knights who called out to him in greeting and several servants who did their best to curtsy, he finally reached the training yard and saw that it was almost empty. He found Bran, though, who seemed to be honing his archery skills with targets that go further and further from where he stood. There was a sack filled with sand hanging from one of the branches of the oak tree, and Gendry grinned proudly when Bran hit it right at the center, causing the sand to pour out fast from where it had been hit.

"Good morning, Gendry," Bran said, a smile planted across his handsome face. "Looking for my sister?" he added, a knowing grin replacing the proud smile from earlier.

Gendry laughed at hearing this. "You know me, little brother. You know me."

Bran pointed towards the path that led to the kitchens. "She was practicing with the knights and beat three of the men at sword fighting," he said with a shake of his head. "She went straight to the kitchens probably to steal another one of those wolf breads that Hot Pie makes that she loves so much."

"I keep telling her to watch her intake of that wolf bread otherwise she'd end up as big as Hot Pie!" Gendry said, sighing even as he smiled. "I'll see you later, Bran."

Bran tilted his head in acknowledgement before resuming his archer's stance to try out another target. Gendry turned and headed down the path that led straight to the back entrance into the kitchens. He immediately stopped in his tracks when he found Catelyn and Sansa directing the kitchen staff as they went about their duties of cleaning the kitchens, preparing and cooking the food for the day's meals. He still finds himself in awkward situations with either ladies, and it doesn't help his case when the ladies were together.

Sansa gave him a shy smile as she placed the fruits in a basket on the long, worn out wooden table. She looked at her mother first before she spoke to him. "I assume you're looking for Arya?"

Gendry nodded, noticing the slight wince Arya's mother gave. In all respect to Lady Catelyn, he knows she is trying hard to accept him just as she had slowly accepted Jon, but maybe the Lady of Winterfell had something against bastards in general, and this makes it hard for her.

"Arya's in the Great Hall with her brothers," Catelyn said. She said, her brothers, and Gendry fought the smile that threatened to come out because he knew Jon would smile about that too. "She broke her fast with them after she sparred with the knights, that young wolf daughter of mine," she added with a shake of her head and a small smile.

Gendry smiled back before turning to leave. "Good day, m'ladies."

When he finally reached the Great Hall and found just Robb and Jon discussing problems raised by the small folk. He must have sighed out loud because Jon nudged Robb's knee and they grinned in his direction.

"Is she leading you in a merry chase again?" Robb asked, handing Gendry a goblet of mead and watching him finish it in three gulps and making Robb laugh some more.

"At the rate I'm going, I'm lucky if I find her before the noon meal," Gendry said with an exasperated sigh.

Jon patted his back. "She mentioned about going to the Godswood with Father."

Gendry exhaled deeply and both Jon and Robb took pity on him. "She really is at the Godswood!" Jon reasoned out, but trying his best to keep the grin from appearing on his face.

"Well I've spent most of the morning asking people where she is only to be led around in circles!" Gendry said, getting up to leave.

"She's there, my brother," Robb said with a smile and a nod. "If she's not, I give you permission to cut my head off."

"I'll remember that, Stark," Gendry said as he walked out of the Hall. "And don't think I won't shave your head, Snow, if she's not where you say she is!"

"I'll let you shave my beard too, Waters!" Jon's voice droned out as Gendry walked out into the courtyard.

The air was still a bit chilly, even if it was already past waking hours. This is Winterfell; where the north wind blows strong and the northerners stand even stronger; where the ground holds bits of ice and snow amidst the green grass and the brown earth. He was a child of summer; of King's Landing where the heat is stifling and the sun scorching; where the days were spent within an even heated forge, and the furnace burns from day to night as he tends to broken horseshoes and swords, dented shields and armors. But gone are his childhood days of summer, to be replaced by a man now used to the icy cold winters of the north. This is who he is now, and this is how he would meet death.

He found father and daughter sitting on a rock by the weirwood; by these whom they call their gods. It was silent, save for the sound of rustling leaves overhead and the gentle calmness of the water by their feet. Gendry would have stepped back and given them privacy, but Ned Stark called out to him before he could retreat.

"Join us, son," Ned said, causing goose bumps to prickle his skin.

Son.

He'd never been called a son by anyone, except his mother before her demise, and Gendry heard the word often now coming from Ned's lips.

He must be wearing a stupid look on his face again, as Arya keeps putting it, because her face showed mirth although she was trying to hold it back. He rolled his eyes at her, before he sat beside her until she was between him and her father. It wasn't long, though, before Ned stood and brushed the dirt from his breeches.

"I''ll leave you two alone," he said as he turned to leave. "I have duties to attend to."

"I'll see you during the noon meal, Father," Arya said with a smile.

"I'll see you both."

They were silent for a while, enjoying the silence of the Godswood and each other's company. Arya spoke first, but only till after her hand crawled over his thigh to where his hand was, threading her small hand with his larger one.

"Did you have a hard time finding me?" she asked, her voice laced with quiet amusement.

"Well," he said with nonchalance. "I reckon fighting a hundred Dothrakis would have been easier than finding my lady wife."

Arya laughed, a blush creeping on her cheeks even as she tugged her hand away from his. He frowned at the loss of contact, tugging her hand back within his and making her smile shyly up at him. He found it to be extremely endearing, since he hardly sees that blush.

"Why were you looking for me?"

"What do you mean why? A husband finds his bed empty and his wife gone, of course he goes off to find her. And I thought you were the intelligent one, Arya," he finished with a roll of his eyes.

Despite the jest, her face gave a disappointed look, and Gendry wondered if he pushed the jest a bit far. "Come," he said as he stood, extending his hand out to help her. "I have something I need to show you."

Arya did not speak but instead, she let herself be dragged all the way back to the castle and up the bedchambers they shared. When they finally stopped before the large bed, Arya tugged her hand away from him and said in a rush, "You bull! If you think of showing me your cock and having your way with me this morn like you did last night, I'm going to cut your cock off with my dirk and make sure you won't get any pleasure of bedding me, or even anyone at all!"

Gendry rolled his eyes again, muttered an expletive under his breath before continuing. "You're such a downright brat, that you are. I'm not going to have my way with you, as you so lovingly put it!"

She watched as he crossed the room in quick strides and opened the wooden chest near the window. He came back a while later carrying a long object wrapped in cloth. The way Gendry carried it carefully, as if it would injure when not held with care, gave her a flash of memories of a certain weapon she had lost during her journey back to the North. It was one she affectionately called Needle, and it was made even more special because Jon gave it to her.

"Where'd you get that?" Arya said as she watched Gendry take the sword out of the cloth.

It was castle-forged Valyrian steel, and very much like Needle. It was thin and felt comfortable in her hand, although it didn't have Needle's thin blade. It was new and light and dangerously sharp. The hilt had the most unusual design on it - half bull, half wolf - carved on black ivory, and the eyes a startling blue. Arya held it with her left hand, and was pleased to know it had the perfect balance. She placed the sword on the bed before jumping into Gendry's arms, and planting a firm kiss on his mouth. Gendry was surprised but deeply pleased, and he kissed her back with equal ardor.

"I wasn't sure if you'll like it. I almost gave up making it, but then I thought it would make you happy. And that's what's important for me. Happy name day, Arya," he added with a shy smile. "I take it you like it?" he asked, half happy and half unsure, still.

She nodded as she laughed. "Yes! Thank you, Gendry!"

Gendry kissed her right temple before letting her down. "What would you name it?"

Arya thought of the day Jon gave her Needle. And she thought of the time she lost it, all those years ago.

Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls, and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile. He used to mess my hair and call me 'little sister,' she remembered, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes.

But this is new…and this is now…and this is Gendry. Gendry and his laughter and tears; his dark hair and deep blue eyes; his calm and his anger; and most especially, it was Gendry's smile.

She called it The Bull.