ghostofharrenhal: It was afterwards, of course, the next time he saw her again. The ropes had been taken down, but he thought he could still hear the creaking; the air was filled with softer scents, warmer scents, but he could still detect the burn of blood underneath it all; and the ruins had all been rebuilt, but sometimes the sun threw the shadows into relief and he was back, back in the war. If he had blinked, he would have missed her; she was taller now, and harder somehow, hair pulled back and hand resting on the hilt of a sword. The hammer dropped from his hand onto the ground, but he barely took any notice. “Arya,” he whispered, then “Arya!” louder, louder, until the ground seemed to shake from the sound of it, from the wanting of it./small> She didn’t answer, only looked at him a moment longer before turning and walking away.   ***   The war is over, she thought as she picked her way over roads, over hobbled paths, breathing in the air she didn’t remember anymore. She looked around, at the flowers dotting the fields, at the boats making their way lazily up the river, at the riders sharing food, but she didn’t see any of it. She saw corpses where the flowers should be, saw fires and debris in place of the boats, saw freshly dug graves instead of the riders. She walked until her bones seemed to shake in her skin, until she could almost feel something rattle in her chest. Stupid, she told herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Your heart’s gone for true by now. She kept walking along the river, eyes closed against the world, until she heard the song of steel. Gendry, she thought at first. Then, no, it’s been too long, he wouldn’t still be here, he’s probably dead like everyone else. She moved towards the sound, thinking everyone died, in the end. She closed her eyes, but the tears did not come; she had used them all up long ago. She saw him a moment later, truly a man grown now, black hair long and shaggy, the hammer almost a part of his arm. Gendry. The word felt strange, foreign almost, and she didn’t know what to do with it, so she just stood and watched. He looked up, though, and saw her. His mouth moved once, then he paused and shouted “Arya!” for all the world to hear, and then she was gone.

ghostofharrenhal:

It was afterwards, of course, the next time he saw her again. The ropes had been taken down, but he thought he could still hear the creaking; the air was filled with softer scents, warmer scents, but he could still detect the burn of blood underneath it all; and the ruins had all been rebuilt, but sometimes the sun threw the shadows into relief and he was back, back in the war.

If he had blinked, he would have missed her; she was taller now, and harder somehow, hair pulled back and hand resting on the hilt of a sword. The hammer dropped from his hand onto the ground, but he barely took any notice. “Arya,” he whispered, then “Arya!” louder, louder, until the ground seemed to shake from the sound of it, from the wanting of it./small>

She didn’t answer, only looked at him a moment longer before turning and walking away.

 

***

 

The war is over, she thought as she picked her way over roads, over hobbled paths, breathing in the air she didn’t remember anymore. She looked around, at the flowers dotting the fields, at the boats making their way lazily up the river, at the riders sharing food, but she didn’t see any of it. She saw corpses where the flowers should be, saw fires and debris in place of the boats, saw freshly dug graves instead of the riders.

She walked until her bones seemed to shake in her skin, until she could almost feel something rattle in her chest. Stupid, she told herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Your heart’s gone for true by now. She kept walking along the river, eyes closed against the world, until she heard the song of steel.

Gendry, she thought at first. Then, no, it’s been too long, he wouldn’t still be here, he’s probably dead like everyone else. She moved towards the sound, thinking everyone died, in the end. She closed her eyes, but the tears did not come; she had used them all up long ago. She saw him a moment later, truly a man grown now, black hair long and shaggy, the hammer almost a part of his arm. Gendry. The word felt strange, foreign almost, and she didn’t know what to do with it, so she just stood and watched.

He looked up, though, and saw her. His mouth moved once, then he paused and shouted “Arya!” for all the world to hear, and then she was gone.

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