They had been riding for days now, asking after Lord Beric. Everyone seemed to think him dead though, and his death changed from place to place. Arya was beginning to think the rumours were true, even when the brotherhood insisted he was alive.
That afternoon, they rode to a place called High Heart, a hill so lofty that from atop it Arya felt as though she could see half the world. Around its brow stood a ring of huge pale stumps, some so wide that Arya could have used them for a bed. They were all that remained of a circle of once-mighty weirwoods.
When Gendry noticed her staring at them, he walked up to her.
"Want to count them?" he asked her.
She nodded and they began to walk around the hill slowly, taking in the night and the view.
"Thirty-one" Gendry said after they'd walked a full circle. He slumped on the grass, leaning his back against one of the stumps. He exhaled sharply a turned up to face the stars on the lilac sky. Arya sat herself besides him.
"Do you think he's really dead? The Lightning Lord?" he spoke up to the sky before turning to Arya.
She shrugged one shoulders. Her moods had somehow dampened, and his creased in query. "What's the matter?" he tossed a small pebble at her face.
Arya rubbed the spot the pebble had hit, sniffing once. "I was just thinking about my father." she admitted, surprising herself at how easy it was to share that with Gendry.
After the amount of time they'd spent together, after everything they'd been through, it had become so easy to trust him. Ever since he found out she was a girl and had kept her secret.
He was the only friend she had left. Now that Hot Pie was gone. Not even Anguy, who was kind to her, did she consider her friend.
No. Gendry was the only friend she had.
"I only met your father that once." Gendry plucked something off the ground. A blade of grass, or a twig. "He seemed to be a good man."
"He was a great man!" Arya said.
Gendry looked up from his hands to meet her eyes.
"The only good man that was left in all of Westeros." she whispered.
Gendry looked down, and began playing with whatever was in his hands. He inhaled, about to say something, but then someone yelled "Gendry!" from the other side of the hill. Perhaps Lem, or Harwin, it was difficult to tell from where they sat. The Brotherhood was beginning to make camp for the night and Arya assumed they needed his help with something.
Gendry assumed the same, for when he looked at Arya he rolled his eyes and placed something on her hand before he stood and walked back to the others.
Arya blinked down at her hands in shock. It was a small flower.
They were at winter's door step, yet there was still flowers.
Arya should have flung it at his face, but Gendry was already walking joining the rest of their party. She was glad of that, for she was sure her face had turned scarlet.
With offense, of course, but Gendry would have accused her of blushing and the teasing would never stop.
Arya stood, ready to tear the small flower to pieces, but it was useless. He was no longer there to witness it.
She could go do it in front of him, but then everyone else would see.
Looking down at the small thing, she was reminded of the day at the tourney, when Ser Loras had given Sansa the rose.
Sansa had smiled like an idiot and Arya had rolled her eyes. It was just a stupid flower. Just like this one. Well, almost...
This was no rose.
And Gendry was no Knight.
And Arya was definitely not Sansa.
Arya smiled warmly, despite herself.
Perhaps at Gendry's silly gesture, or at the memory of Sansa and Ser Loras. But it was a smile.
"Stupid bull." she muttered under her breath as she tucked the flower carefully inside her shirt as she headed back to join the men.