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cmk418Note: I've seen a couple of the new teasers for Season 8 and one of them shows Arya looking up in wonder at something- it more than likely is the dragons, but she could also have that look on her face after seeing Gendry for the first time since he was taken from her. This is the result.
Arya hears them before she sees them, of course. Their screeching pierces the air and then they are there. Their giant wings cast down a shadow from their heights. It is amazing to her, their beauty is something that she only imagined while roaming the tombs under Kings Landing in what seems to be a lifetime ago.
“’Arry?” she hears and her attention immediately moves from the dragons into the crowd. Searching, searching, searching, until finally she sees…
Him.
Gendry. He looks older somehow, worn down by time and experience, but then, she supposes she does too. A laugh escapes her throat, genuine and unfamiliar to her.
She doesn’t realize that she is running until he catches her with an arm around her waist. “Milady,” he says, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face.
She swings an arm, hitting him in the shoulder, not nearly as hard as she’s been taught. “Don’t ever leave me again,” she whispers.
“Never,” he promises. “You are my family and I’ve returned home.”
She wraps both arms around him and holds him as the army of soldiers move around them, pressing on toward Winterfell.
Arya hears them before she sees them, of course. Their screeching pierces the air and then they are there. Their giant wings cast down a shadow from their heights. It is amazing to her, their beauty is something that she only imagined while roaming the tombs under Kings Landing in what seems to be a lifetime ago.
“’Arry?” she hears and her attention immediately moves from the dragons into the crowd. Searching, searching, searching, until finally she sees…
Him.
Gendry. He looks older somehow, worn down by time and experience, but then, she supposes she does too. A laugh escapes her throat, genuine and unfamiliar to her.
She doesn’t realize that she is running until he catches her with an arm around her waist. “Milady,” he says, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face.
She swings an arm, hitting him in the shoulder, not nearly as hard as she’s been taught. “Don’t ever leave me again,” she whispers.
“Never,” he promises. “You are my family and I’ve returned home.”
She wraps both arms around him and holds him as the army of soldiers move around them, pressing on toward Winterfell.
