Arya is sure that she and Gendry are wanted in the Great Hall for some kind of strategy meeting. But fuck that. She turned the Night King into ice shards less than 12 hours ago - all she had wanted was something to eat, a quick nap, and Gendry.

Two things marked off her list and she's working on the third.

She throws her head back against the pillow as Gendry's lips trail soft kisses against her jaw. The scratch of his beard is surely going to make her face red, but Arya can't seem to find concern. One hand loops around his neck, keeping his lips pressed to her skin, and the other reaches down to stroke at his thigh. Gendry moans against her skin, nipping at her neck. Arya winces as his teeth graze a sore spot.

Gendry pulls away. "What? Am I hurting you?"

"No," Arya reassures him, trying to pull him back down. "You're not even in me."

But Gendry's gaze has dropped, and he rolls off of her and onto his side. Arya grumbles at the loss of his warmth, reaching out to tug on his arm. He's stronger than she is though, and doesn't budge. Instead he props his head on his hand and leans up on his elbow to look at her properly.

"What's that?" he asks, concern and anger lacing his tone.

Arya rolls her eyes. "My tits. Forgotten what they look like already?"

"Arya," Gendry snaps roughly. "What are those marks on your neck?"

There are four marks on one side of her neck and one on the other. In the low light, Gendry can see that they're shaped like long, think ovals - the marks are nearly black, with fading around the edges. He reaches out his free hand and lightly touches the edge of one. Arya winces.

"They're marks from the Night King," she admits. "He grabbed me and then I stabbed him."

Gendry curses quietly under his breath. "Are you hurting?"

"Only when they're touched," she sighs, knowing that Gendry is going to go into full stubborn protector mode now. A shame really, since she wants to be fucked into the mattress, not coddled.

"Seven hells, Arya," he grumbles, letting his hand drop to rest against the curve of her breast. "You were just going to let me hurt you?"

"Why are you being such a bull?" she asks, filling the word with insult. "I've had worse."

It's the wrong thing to say, because Gendry's eyes flash and his lips thin into a line. His hand curls around her protectively. "I don't like that you've known pain, Arya."

"It's Winter," she says simply, brushing the tips of her fingers against his broad, muscled chest. His skin is hot under her touch - he's bruised and cut as well - and all Arya wants to do is mark him as her own. "We've all known suffering and pain."

Gendry drops his head to his pillow. "Are they going to stay like the marks on Bran?"

"Why?" Arya shrugs, suddenly irritated. "Too ugly to look at?"

"Are you kidding?" Gendry's eyes widen. His mouth opens and closes, fumbling for words. "You're the prettiest and scariest girl I've ever been with. Couple of marks on your neck aren't going to turn me off."

"Good," Arya replies firmly. "Because I'd hate to kick you out of my bed for stupidity."

She grins at him and rolls to straddle his hips. Gendry's hands immediately come up to grip her waist. His cock is thick and hard - pressing against her already. She lets out a contented little sigh, leaning down onto him. Her hands rest against his shoulders, using him for leverage.

"I'd hate to be kicked out of your bed at all," Gendry says, looking up at her with awe and admiration. Arya would be lying if she said she didn't like the way he looked at her.

"Then quit running your mouth and put it to better use," she demands.

"Yes, milady," Gendry grins impishly.

Later, when Arya and Gendry finally do have to join the council, the marks from the Night King's fingers aren't the only ones littering her body.

A/N: short and sweet, because i'm crazy stressed with finals lol. but drop me reviews and prompts so i can do some writing when im done on tuesday!