Gendry x Arya one shot

Game of Thrones

It was freezing cold and the flimsy blanket was nowhere near enough to keep Arya warm. The sooner her small group met up with the main forces on this campaign the better. Shaking enough that her teeth rattled, Arya curled up on herself as tight as possible, trying not to lose any more body heat. Seven hells, why was it so cold? Fear of lighting fires had negated that source of warmth and now she was miserable. Curled in a ball shivering, she peeked up to see Gendry picking his way through sleeping bodies and dropping down several feet away from her. He settled down after a few minutes, pulling a blanket around himself.

Not that he needs it, big as he is, stupid bull, Arya grumbled in her mind. It was annoying that he had done nothing but fill out and get bigger as he got older while she remained small. Stupid, stupid bull. Her teeth chattered again.

“Are you alright?” she suddenly heard him whisper, “you sound like someone playing dice.”

“I’m fine,” Arya hissed through clenched teeth, her body betraying her with a shudder. Gendry cocked his head at her and Arya covered her head with her blanket to make a point. She stiffened when she felt him pulling her against him and got ready to slam a hand into his chest, but before she could Gendry anticipated the move and caught her hand.

“Stop it, stupid,” he grumbled, “do you want to sleep or freeze?”

“We’re not children any more, Gendry. This doesn’t look harmless at our age.”

Gendry just snorted. “You’re running around in armor with a group of rogue knights. What’s harmless about that?”

Arya didn’t have an argument against that statement. So she let him pull her next to him. He was a wall of muscle and dwarfed her like a doll, smelling of smoke and earth and leather with an undertone of masculine musk. She finally relaxed and curled herself tightly into Gendry. He was blessedly warm, like snuggling next to a fire. She didn’t know how one person could be so warm. She pressed her back into his chest while Gendry draped his arm over her.

“You’re right,” he murmured, “it’s not harmless any more. I enjoy it.”

Arya refused to tell him there was a part of her that enjoyed it too. A part that liked being able to relax with someone protecting her for a change. She refused to admit that part of her wanted more than him holding her. A part that knew if she pushed the point he’d be a willing partner in other methods of keeping warm. No, it wasn’t harmless any more. It was playing with fire. But it certainly did keep one warm.