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Gendry's soft snores were what woke her. Arya had never been a deep sleeper anyway, which meant that it was usually her that tended to little Cat whenever she woke in the night. But the baby girl had been surprisingly quiet while they were sleeping, and Arya was glad for it. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept through an entire night.
Arya stretched her legs out and yawned sleepily, her eyes opening to the view of the tinsel on the ceiling. Sansa had gone over the top in painting Winterfell head to toe in decorations. It was cute at first, but after two moons of checking doorways for hidden mistletoe, the only person who actually still appreciated the décor was Sansa herself.
Her eyes glanced out to the balcony opposite the bed where Arya and Gendry lay. Despite the heavy curtains that kept most of the cold out, the wind was blowing snow into the chamber, causing Arya to shiver.
She could see that it was no longer dark out. The morning had arrived, which meant only one thing.
It was Christmas.
An excited grin broke out on her face. Despite the fact that Arya was a woman grown, she would never tire of the day. It reminded her of her mother and father. Of her childhood. Before whatever cruel games the Gods had been playing ripped them from her life.
But she could not think of that now. She had Sansa and her brothers. And Gendry and baby Cat. She had a family, no matter how much the memories of her nameless days beyond the narrow sea haunted her.
Arya turned over suddenly, facing Gendry. She shook him on the shoulder roughly, as she used to when they were younger.
Gendry stirred and did not open his eyes when he spoke, "Go back to sleep Arya."
But Arya was not giving up. She shook him again and he opened one eye, yawning sleepily, "Does M'lady require something?"
She scoffed at the nickname, but she struggled to keep the excitement out of her voice when she spoke, "M'lady requires you to wake up. Or have you forgotten what day it is?"
Gendry lay on his back and sighed, "How could I forget?"
Arya laughed, "Sansa would go crazy if you did."
Gendry smiled at her, and soon he too was laughing. They both were. The memory of Sansa flitting around the castle and its grounds, harassing everybody with the over-frivolous décor was one that was too funny to forget.
Their laughter was soon cut off, when Cat began to wail from the cot on the far side of the room. Arya groaned. She had known the peaceful night had been too good to be true.
Both Arya and Gendry stared at each other determinedly, willing the other to go and tend to the infant.
"It's your turn," Arya told Gendry plainly. He raised an eyebrow in return, but Arya did not flinch.
With a sigh, Gendry pulled the cover from himself, and sat with his back to her on the bed. The muscles in his shoulders flexed as he stood up and padded towards baby Cat with heavy feet, giving Arya more than enough time to enjoy the view.
She watched him curiously as he leant over the cot; the baby had stopped crying instantly. She could hear him whispering to Cat, but Arya could not quite make out what he was saying. Gendry lifted her from the cot and held the babe in his arms. She could not quite place the unfamiliar warm feeling that filled her chest.
Suddenly, Gendry looked up to Arya. A smirk grew on his face when he saw she had been watching them.
“Is something the matter, M’lady?” He asked her but Arya shook her head, a grin growing on her face.
She patted the space in the bed beside her, and Gendry walked over. He got in, Baby Cat still in his arms. Arya curled up her knees and wriggled closer to him. Gendry pulled the covers over both of them, just as Nymeria leapt on to the bottom of the bed, nestling herself beneath them.
“Merry Christmas,” Said Arya, as she kissed Cat on the forehead.
The four of them were left undisturbed until the castle awoke, when Sansa paraded happily into the room with Bran and Rickon trailing behind her.