A Refusal and a Vow

The sun had just begun to set over the city of Braavos, casting a warm orange glow over the narrow streets and canals. Arya Stark, her dark hair chopped short in the Faceless Men style, walked along the water's edge, her eyes fixed on the sea. She had been training with the Faceless Men for months now, learning the art of stealth and deception. But her mind was always elsewhere, focused on the list of names she had written in her book, the people she needed to kill. Behind her, Gendry Waters, the young blacksmith, watched her with a mixture of love and longing. He had grown up in the streets of Braavos, apprenticed to a local smith, but his heart belonged to Arya. He had seen her first in the streets, a scrappy little thing with a sword in her hand, and he had been smitten ever since. Gendry took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to do. He had been waiting for the right moment for weeks, and he knew that if he didn't propose to Arya now, he might lose his chance forever. He walked up to her, his heart pounding in his chest, and took her hand. "Arya," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" Arya turned to him, her eyes narrowing. "What is it, Gendry?" Gendry took another deep breath, his mind racing. He had rehearsed this moment a thousand times, but now that it was here, he felt like a nervous wreck. "Arya, I love you," he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth. "I know it's not the right time, and I know you're focused on your...list, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't tell you how I feel. Will you...will you marry me?" Arya's expression didn't change, but Gendry could see the rejection in her eyes. She pulled her hand out of his and shook her head. "Gendry, I...I'm sorry. I care about you, but I don't love you. Not like that. My mind is on my list, on getting revenge for what happened to my family. I don't have room for anything else right now." Gendry felt like he had been punched in the gut. He had expected her to say no, but he had hoped that she might feel something for him. He nodded, trying to keep his face neutral. "I understand," he said, his voice tight. "I just...I had to try. I love you, Arya." Arya's expression softened, and she reached out to touch his face. "I'm sorry, Gendry. I really am. But I have to do this. I have to see my list through." Gendry nodded, feeling a vow form in his heart. He would wait for her, no matter how long it took. He would be here for her, whenever she was ready to see him, to love him. He smiled, trying to make light of the situation. "I'll be here, Arya. Whenever you're ready." Arya smiled back, and for a moment, Gendry thought he saw something in her eyes, something like affection. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by her usual determination. "I'll be back," she said, and with that, she turned and walked away, leaving Gendry to nurse his broken heart. As he watched her go, Gendry made a silent promise to himself. He would wait for Arya, no matter what. He would be here for her, whenever she was ready to see him, to love him. And even though she had refused him, he knew that his love for her would endure, a flame that would burn bright and steady, waiting for the day when she might finally return it.