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Gendry wasn’t much for the holidays. No family meant no family get-togethers. Davos tried to make the foster home he lived in homey, but people tended to come and go in the foster system, so he made sure to not set down roots anywhere.
Then he met the Starks. The big, loving family of the Starks. He met them through Jon at first, then his brothers (or rather his cousins), and finally Arya.
Arya.
She was a tiny thing when they met. Scrappy and full of fire. She’d played sports with her brothers and would leave them in the dust.
He was a few years older than her and merely thought of her as Jon and Robb’s younger sister. Then, when she hit puberty, she blossomed.
She still liked to play rough and would swear like a sailor, but the glint in her grey eyes and the flush on her cheeks would bring Gendry to a halt and he’d have to clear his head. He’d tried to shut out the dreams he’d had about her, but they kept coming.
She began to look at him differently too. She’d let her gaze linger a little longer whenever he’d go about shirtless, years of hard work and heavy lifting making their mark on his body. He’d let his gaze linger a little bit as well, whenever they were at the pool and she wore those all too revealing swimsuits. He had the lingering feeling she wore them specifically for him.
They’d spent more than a few holidays together. The Starks pretty much took him in as one of their own and, as a boy with no family since his mother died, it was like heaven.
Then, this year, Sansa came up with the idea of having a Secret Santa gift exchange. Gendry dreaded it. Even though he was making a decent living working in the auto shop and doing restorations on the side while he went to school, the Starks were used to a certain lifestyle. Depending on who’s name he drew, he’d have to do some serious thinking as to what to get.
If he got one of the boys’ names, he could probably find something unique to restore and give to them. That was pretty easy enough. He hoped he wouldn’t get Sansa. She was super feminine and he’d be at a total loss as to what to do for her.
However, the name he drew was one he hadn’t expected at all.
He stared down at the piece of paper written in a nice script.
Arya
‘Shit,’ he thought to himself. ‘What the hell am I gonna get Arya?’
Arya wasn’t just anyone to him. She was special. So special that he found himself to be falling in love with her. He wanted the gift he got her to be as special and unique as she is.
He searched through his workshop. She definitely wasn’t the girly type, that was for certain. He initially thought about getting an old knife and restoring it for her, since she collected knives.
But no. That wasn’t unique enough. Too expected.
He flopped down on the chair in his apartment and sighed. His eyes scan around the room until they land on a basket in the corner. It was full of knitting stuff.
He sat forward. Maybe, just maybe.
Gendry remembered when his mother first taught him how to knit. He was rather fidgety and he liked to do stuff with his hands. So, his mother sat him down one afternoon and taught him how to knit. “My mother taught me, and I told myself if I have children, I’d teach them too,” she told him. He remembers the feel of her hands as she guided him through the different stitches and he remembered the soothing sounds of the click of the needles as they worked the yarn. The smell of her soap as he sat beside her and she showed him how to read patterns.
Yes, he did get picked on a few times when the boys found out he knit. He’d shut them up eventually though. Pretty soon, they wanted to learn how to do it.
Gendry got up and walked over to the basket of yarn and began to search through it. He knew Arya was used to colder temperatures, but still, having something warm and soft was nice to have on bitter days.
Nothing fancy was needed. Arya wasn’t fancy. Something simple and basic would do. He dug through the yarn until he found something that caught his eye. A few balls of a nice, silvery grey peeked out at the bottom. He grabbed them. They were soft and thick, just what he needed. Grey was one of the Stark family colors, so it was a good color choice. He searched through his needles until he found the ones he needed for the type of yarn.
A scarf. That’s what he’d make her. A nice, warm scarf she could wrap around her lovely neck and snuggle in. He’d hoped she’d think of him as she wore it.
Over the next few days, Gendry worked on the scarf. While he watched television or listened to music. He made sure to wash his hands thoroughly once he got home from the shop as to not make it greasy. He felt like a surgeon with how meticulously he washed his hands before he returned to his knitting.
He decided to do a simple moss stitch pattern, which would give the scarf some distinction, as well as lay flat when unworn. He could do it with his eyes closed. A simple repeat of knit, purl, knit, purl, for 42 stitches across. It was therapeutic for him. When his mother died, he couldn’t knit for a long time because the memories it brought up were too painful. So, he acted out. He wasn’t proud of it. When he entered the foster system, it hadn’t made things any better. But, when he eventually got placed with Davos and his wife, they showed him it was OK to grieve his mom. They showed him the stability he hadn’t had in a long time.
They also encouraged his hobbies, like taking things apart and putting them back together again better than before. He had a real eye for mechanical things. Marya also encouraged him to get back to knitting, as a way to reconnect with his mom and cherish the memories he’d had with her. They never tried to replace his mom. They invited her into the family along with him.
Gendry never told the Starks he could knit. Not that he was ashamed. He wanted something that was his and his alone. Once Arya received her gift, however, the cat would most definitely be out of the bag. But, he felt it was time to let them into that side of himself. He was already practically considered family. Arya even told him as much one time. He’d never felt worthy of it, though. Growing up poor and set adrift in the world had that effect.
Then, Gendry was finally finished. He held it up and appraised it. It looked perfect. Just the right length and width and it was nice and soft. He hoped Arya would like it. Worry began to settle in his stomach. What if she didn’t like it? What if he went through all that time and effort only to find she was disappointed? He tried not to dwell on it for too long.
Soon, it was time for the Secret Santa gift exchange. Gendry had wrapped up the scarf in wrapping paper printed with a winter scene he felt would remind Arya of Winterfell. Everyone moved to the living room after dinner and settled in on the sofas and the chairs set about the room. Arya and Rickon sat on the floor, unbothered by any possible discomfort sitting on a wooden floor may bring.
Sansa stood and cleared her throat.
“OK, everyone! It’s time for the Secret Santa gift exchange! We decided to do something a little different this year. So as you all know, everyone drew names and were supposed to get a gift for the person who’s name you drew. No take backs! So, I’m going to go around and pass out the gifts and we have to try and guess who they’re from.”
She went over to the tree and picked up a package and read the label.
“OK, this one is for Jon.”
She went over and handed Jon the package.
He opened it and inside was a leather-bound journal and a pen set.
“Wow! This is really nice!”
“You have to guess who gave it to you!” Arya piped up from her place on the floor, which was very near him, Gendry noted.
Jon’s eyes scanned the room. “Sansa!” he shouted.
Sansa shook her head, “Nope! Not from me!”
Jon looked around again. “Arya?”
Arya nodded. “Yep! It’s from me! Since you’re away a lot, I figured you might want to keep a journal of what’s happening while you’re away from home.”
Gendry tried not to look crestfallen. He had secretly hoped Arya would’ve drawn his name.
The next gift was for Robb. It was a pair of wolf head cuff links.
“Wow! These are really nice! Are they from Sansa?”
“Wrong again,” came the answer.
Eventually, they found they were from Jon. “I figure a hotshot lawyer has to have some nice accessories when he’s presenting his cases,” Jon said.
Soon, they came to Arya and she tore into the package she was handed. Her face softened as she held up the scarf.
“Oh, wow! That’s really lovely, Arya!” said Ygritte, reaching over to fondle the soft fabric.
“And it’s grey, like our family colors,” said Rickon.
Arya wrapped the scarf around her neck and ran her hands over it.
“Now you have to guess who it’s from,” Jon said, from his seat next to Ygritte.
Gendry felt his stomach tighten. Arya had yet to say anything. She just sat for a few moments touching the scarf.
“Well, whoever it is, they put a lot of work into it. That’s not store-bought. It’s handmade. I can tell by the work done,” Caitlyn commented.
“I needed a new scarf,” Arya said softly. Gendry tried not to blush.
“So, what’s your guess?” Sansa chimed in, impatiently.
Arya raised her eyes toward her sister. “Was it you?”
Sansa shook her head. “No, I didn’t do it.”
Ayra looked at Ygritte. “You?”
Ygritte snorted, “Please, like I can knit.”
“I-I don’t know then.”
Gendry decided he’d let her off the hook. He cleared his throat and tentatively raised his hand. He was met with looks of shock.
“Gendry, it was you?” replied Sansa.
Gendry nodded. “Yeah, I made it.”
Arya turned to look at him. “I never knew you could knit! How come you never mentioned it?”
Gendry shrugged, “My mom taught me when I was little and she was well enough to do it. I’ve always been good with my hands and she figured it would keep me occupied and out of trouble. I stopped for a while after she died, but then I picked it up again as a way of being near her.”
Arya got up from her spot on the floor and went over to where Gendry sat on the sofa and wrapped her arms around him. He wanted to drown in her scent.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I love it. It’s perfect.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.” He wanted to run his fingers through her soft hair, but he stopped himself because he didn’t want to make a scene in front of her family.
She pulled away. Gendry thought it was rather reluctant to do so. Their eyes lingered on one another for what seemed like an eternity until it was interrupted by a cough.
“Umm, if you two will tear yourselves away from each other, can we continue?” Robb’s voice broke through.
Arya returned to her place on the floor, adjusting the scarf around her neck.
After all the gifts were opened, it was decided that everyone would turn in for the night. Gendry had received a specialized toolset from Robb, which he’d been eyeing for a while now. He guessed Arya must’ve told him about it.
Gendry retired to his room and got ready for bed. Normally he slept naked, but since he was a guest, he opted for a pair of pajama bottoms to sleep in. He settled into his bed when he heard a knock on his door. He got up and opened it to find Arya standing there, still wearing the scarf and a pair of pajamas.
“Oh, Arya. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“Can I come in?”
Gendry stepped aside, “Yeah, sure.”
She crossed the threshold into his room and waited for him to close the door.
Gendry scratched the back of his head nervously, “I-um-I’m glad you like the scarf.”
Arya looked at him with hooded eyes. She raked her gaze over his naked torso. She stepped closer to him.
“I love the scarf,” she said, her voice dropping down to a lower timbre than what Gendry was used to hearing.
“Good. I wanted to give you something special because you’re special. To me,” his voice dropped to just above a whisper.
“Just how special?” she whispered, leaning into him, her lips hovering just in front of his.
Gendry’s breathing deepened. He felt his heart begin to race. His hands had a mind of their own and began to draw her closer to him.
“More than you can imagine,” his voice grew husky with desire.
Arya’s hands moved to his neck and she pulled his face to hers and began to kiss him deeply. He was stunned for a millisecond before he started to return it with equal vigor. Her tongue teased at the seam of his lips until he granted her access and was met with an intensity he’d never experienced before. Gods, she tasted so sweet.
She broke away, her pupils blown wide so all he could see was black with a ring of grey.
“I think it’s time I gave you my gift.”
Gendry arched his eyebrows.
“Oh yeah?”
“Oh yeah. But, first, you need to get rid of these,” she said, toying with the waistband of his pajama bottoms.
He smirked.
“As milady wishes,” he said while taking her into his arms and leading her over to the bed.