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Arya sat in a wooden chair by the warm fire in her bedchambers.
She stared deeply into the burning wood that was adorned with colors such as deep brown, scorched black, and grey ash.
They were overrun by more vibrant colors though. Colors that were as red as Sansa's hair, yellow as silk, and as orange as the dresses whores wore in Kings Landing.
The colors stared back at her, putting a warm light on her face and body. Highlighting her bruised head, and her pale cheeks.
The fire was welcoming, for her body craved the warmth it offered.
Though she was a true northener, ever since the Night King, she had craved a sort of warmth almost nothing could offer her.
Except another person.
She was lost in a mix of emotions. Happiness over the war in the North being over, pride in being the one who killed the dreaded Night King, a dull ache over those who were lost, fear for the war to come, and query over her now intimate relationship with Gendry.
Out of all the things that had happened in the past 48 hours, her relationship with Gendry had been the thing that had caused her to pace at night. That had caused her to be plagued with want and confusion.
They had had sex merely 48 hours ago, and she already missed the heat he radiated and their intimate relationship that they possessed, both physically and mentally.
Just as she was about to be lost once again in the intricacies of their relationship, a quiet knock could be heard coming from her door. Sounding as fierce as a lion and as timid as a mouse.
Arya stood up, and walked to the door. Carefully placing her left hand on Needle, while using her right to open the door.
None other than Gendry stood in front of her. Wearing a simple tunic that had black soot on it, along with his typical pants and boots.
A slight smile adorned his face, as well as a few cuts and bruises.
"Figured you would be up this late, my lady," he said. His voice kind and gentle, with an edge of playfulness in it.
"How well you know me, my lord." Arya retorted as she reciprocated his small smile, and opened the door wider, allowing him to step in.
She closed the door behind him and with the key attached to her belt, locked her door.
"Always one to be careful huh Arry," Gendry said.
She turned to face him, and braced herself against the heavy wooden door, a wave of dizziness passing over her due to her sudden standing.
Her head was still recovering from her brush with death.
Gendry gave her a concerned look, his brows furrowed as he took her in fully.
She imagined she looked a little rough. With her heavy leaning on the door, her weary expression, and her bruised temple.
He took a step forward, and reached his hand up. Gingerly stroking her blue and yellow head, caressing it with his rough thumb.
"You know, I never thanked you properly for killing the Night King. I suppose that's what he gets for underestimating House Stark." Gendry murmured.
His voice was low and sensual as he said this, his deep blue eyes staring into her grey and weathered ones.
"I'm glad I did, or you would have been done for." She responded, with a smirk on her face, her body tingling.
Though her head was a bit foggy, she knew she wanted this. She knew she wanted his warmth and his love, and she knew she cared for him.
"And what a trajedy that would be," he said as he bent down to her eye level. His brows raised, and his eyes questioning.
She gave him his answer by tilting her lips up to melt into his. She softened at his warm touch as he wrapped his sturdy arms around her waist, gingerly pulling her in, flushing her up against his temperate body.
She moved her much smaller arms to wrap around his bent neck, using them to pull herself even closer to him.
He bent his knees, and slowly slid his hands down her waist, and down to her lean thighs. His hands landed just above her knee, and he picked her up, and walked over to her plush bed.
One that was covered with extra furs due to her recent struggle with the chilly temperature.
He climbed onto her bed using his knees, and set her down in the middle, her legs open and loosely wrapped around his.
He broke the kiss by brushing his lips down her throat, as he began to slide his calloused hands under her tunic, pushing it up, exposing her scarred and slightly bruised abdomen.
Injuries from the past and the present.
He continued pushing the dark fabric up, exposing her breasts.
The sudden breath of the northern cold air caused her nipples to harden, seemingly drawing Gendry in.
He brought his mouth down to her hard peaks, and latched on as he began to massage them with his warm hands. Drawing a moan out of Arya's lips, and egging him on.
She grabbed the hem of her shirt and carefully tugged it off as Gendry continued his assault on her breasts.
His mouth suddenly left them, and a whimper left Arya's lips at the exposure to the air, and at the loss of his warm mouth.
He dragged his mouth and hands down as he kissed her tender abdomen and scars.
His hands found the ties of her pants as he sat up. Staring into Arya's eyes as he said with a devilish grin, "Now, you will get your proper thanks."
She stared up at him, slighly confused as to just what he was insinuating, but as long as it was pleasurable, she had no objections.
His grin continued as he began unlacing her pants, and with one tug he had pulled them down, past her hips, and to her knees. He shifted back on his heels, and pulled her pants the rest of the way off.
Arya could feel the run of blush up her chest and face as he stared down at her most intimate parts. She couldn't help but feel slightly bashful at being the only one naked.
Gendry slid back down onto his stomach, and he found himself face to face with her folds. He looked up at her, searching her face for any sign of discomfort.
"Oh just get on with it will you, you bastard." Arya demaded, chuckling. Breaking the tension she was feeling.
He broke out in another devilish grin, and then looked down, breaking their eye contact. He bent down, and delicately pressed a kiss at the top of her folds.
Arya breathed in sharply, still not used to being touched there.
He ran his left hand down her outer thigh soothingly, and with his right, he gently parted her, and licked.
Arya's hips bucked up slightly at the good, but mostly foreign feeling.
She had explored there before, but it was so different when it was someone else doing it. When it was someone she truly cared about doing it.
He continued to lick deeply, focusing on the little bead at top that caused her so much pleasure, and he began to gently suck it.
She moved her hands down from the fur she had been clenching, and gently wove them into his hair, tugging slightly.
At that, Gendry gave a little moan, and gave her a particularly hard suck. One that made Arya gasp, and pull a little harder.
He moved the hand that had been stroking her thigh up, and grabbed her breast, gently kneading, and pinching her nipple. His right index finger sliped down her folds, from the little bead, all the way to her entrance, and circled around it.
Gendry's tongue quickly found the little bead again though, just as he gently pushed into her.
"Fuck." Arya called out at the sudden intrusion, clenching around his finger, and bucking up into Gendry's mouth.
He gave out a light chuckle and began to move his finger in-and-out, slightly curling up every time he pulled out.
Arya's moans could be heard bouncing off of the stone walls, as she bucked up in bliss. Her cloudy head clearing, and her cold body warming.
Gendry slipped in two fingers, and began to perform his movements a little faster, a little harder. Arya had adjusted, and he was quickly bringing her to cries of pleasure, washing away her worries.
Though his jaw hurt, he continued to lick and suck at her, much more fervently than before. Arya's chest was rising and falling in heaves, and her cries grew and grew. She felt the adrenline coursing through her vains like electrecity, and felt her pleasure building.
Her voice was now coming out broken as she urged him for more, to go faster, to get her there, and Gendry was one to grant all she could ever wish for.
He slipped a third finger in, and pushed his fingers in-and-out of her over and over again. Curling his fingers, and beckoning for her to cum.
His left hand continued to twist and pull at her nipples, as she began to buck up into his face much more fervently.
Arya was never one for too much timidness.
She felt as if she was on fire, and as she begged for more for the last time, and he obliged, she could feel herself shattering into a million pices.
Calling Gendry's name as her thighs shaked, and as he continued to finger her.
She rode out her climax on his face, and finally slowed, her hips coming to a stutter, and her body melting into the bed.
She had never felt this sated before, and had hardly ever felt this at peace before.
Gendry pulled away from her, and delicately kissed her scars as she came down from her euphoria.
"Not bad for a bastard, huh my lady?" Gendry asked with his numb tongue.
"Aye, not bad at all." Arya responded with her slow pants, and with a smile.