A/N: Because Joe Dempie reported that Gendry will be there for the show's 'final climax,' I am going with the hope that means Gendry will be there at the last war in King's Landing. Thus, this story is takes place post S08E04 based on that prediction, while Jon and Gendry are traveling to King's Landing.

Summary: In which Gendry reflects.

The march to King's Landing was solemn.

The only sounds that could be heard were the murmurs of their fellow soldiers as their boots dragged across the dirt road, although those sounds only echoes distantly in his ears.

They were all tired and many were still wounded from the Battle of the Long Night. However, none of that mattered to him right now.

He was still heart broken.

Confused and heartbroken.

No, correction, he wasn't confused. After replaying that dreaded scene in his head over and over and over, all of his mistakes were starting to rear its ugly face.

Yes, he knew that she didn't want to be a lady. Yes, he knew that she didn't want the princess life. Yes, he knew that he was maybe (probably) moving a bit too fast. But hey, this was war, he had survived that Battle of the Undead (barely), he was drunk (definitely), a bit too overly eager (the Dragon Queen had finally legitimized him for Heaven's sake) and was fueled by the unbelievably delusional high from it all.

The moment when that had all happened, all rationality had disappeared from his head. All he could think about was that finally, finally, he was a lord. Which means now he was somebody. Somebody who would be worthy to ask for her hand in marriage.

A marriage he knew she didn't want, a life he knew she didn't want.

Stupid, stupid, stupid bull, Gendry belittled himself angrily, hands clutching into fist. He could feel the anger rising from his chest into the extremities of his body and let out a deep groan as his whole body tensed.

When he had asked for her to be his lady, he didn't mean for her to actually… well, be a lady in the sense of doing 'proper lady-like things' and to bare child. He was a low-born for goodness sake and wasn't experience with all of this wording and expectations and such! To him, being his wife - his lady – had just meant that she would simply just be with him. Be his rock, be his guidance, be his support, be his family.

To just be with him.

Yup. He blew it. Bad.

The Baratheon curse continues. Damn the Baratheon name and their attraction to Stark women!

"Seven hells," the newly acclaimed Baratheon lord grumbled frustrated, a bit louder than he intended to be. Jon, who was walking beside him on the road to King's Landing, turned to look at him interestedly.

"…women trouble?"

A pouty look took over his face at the aspect of being so apparent. "That obvious?"

Jon allowed him a small smile, "Join the club."

Understanding overcame him as the blacksmith looked down, remembering his low-born manners and choosing not to pry in the high-born lord's affairs.

They marched on in silence. Unfortunately, they still had a long distance to go, with an increasing demanding time restraint, and tension was high. Gendry knew he couldn't afford to get distracted now; they were marching into war, and at any war death was always possible. And considering the dilapidated army they had at their disposal, they were now playing the odds with their lives.

"You didn't have to come," Jon's voice broke through silence, gaze strait ahead. "You could had returned back to Storm's End. Your people will need you. Storm's End has been without a lord for quite some time, they'll need their lord to return."

"My lord, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be alive, let alone be lord of anything," Gendry muttered. "This is my war as well." He was no warrior, but he was a fighter. "And besides, I don't know the first thing of being a lord… I wouldn't know what to do. I don't even know where to start."

Jon smirked, "I was the same as you, bastard-born. Went from being a bastard to being Lord Commander to King. I did what I had to do. You'll figure it out."

Gendry frowned. "Aye, my Lord. But if I were to honest with you… I don't even know if I want it now. I appreciate the Queen's gesture….but I am no lord. I am no leader." His voice was low and soft. "I don't think that's me."

Before the lightbulb lite off in his head, Jon threw his head back and laughed.

"You sound like Arya," Jon mused wistfully. At his questioning glace, Jon continued, "When she was about one and ten, she said something similar to our father. That she wanted to be a knight or a lord of a steadfast and how she never wants a lady."

"That she doesn't," Gendry agreed admiringly, and Jon nodded.

"Probably never will," Jon agreed. "But that is what makes Arya, Arya. And that's what makes us love her so."

Gendry eyed the Stark man knowingly, a sad smile etching across his lips at the reality of the situation.

"She rejected you," Jon's voice continued intentionally. He didn't miss the slight wince the blacksmith made and chuckled inwardly to himself. "I've received reports of my little sister lurking around the forge more frequently." Gendry at least had the nerves to look embarrassed. "I'd figured…. when you ran out of the halls right after your legitimization, I had figured what you were planning on doing. If I wasn't go intoxicated at the time, I should have had stopped you. Warned you, actually."

Warned me?

"…What would you had told me?"

"To not, under any circumstances, ask her to be your lady," the black-haired wolf grinned. "Ask her hand for anything else – for her to be your traveling companion, your sparring partner, your punching bag, your family…but not your lady. Never a lady." Gendry's regretful eyes spoked volumes to the Stark lord. "I suspect that after that blasted word fell from your lips, you had already sealed your own faith." Jon's voice, although serious, held an underlying tone of teasing and Gendry just wanted the ground to open up and swallow him up.

Stupid, stupid, stupid bull.

He wanted to smack himself.

"Perhaps if you would had gone to me first to ask for her hand in marriage, you could had been warned," the black-haired blacksmith admitted bitterly. Jon shrugged his shoulder pointedly. "My lord," Gendry rambled, slightly embarrassed, "I'm sorry, everything was just happening so fast, and you were here, and she was there and everyone had their eyes on me and –"

"Easy, easy," Jon teased. "Although, I'll admit, I do not like the idea of my baby sister growing up and taking interest in men, I know that you are a decent, hard-working and honest man Gendry. You are strong, you are honorable. And I know that you are far from like your late King father. I trust you."

Well, aren't things funny in retrospective? Gendry thought bitterly. His stubbornness and rationality have always gotten him into trouble, and this time was no different.

"Do you think I still have a chance?"

"Who knows what the future holds," Jon acknowledged solemnly. "And that I know is that we are fools. We are fools and we know nothing." There was a deep bitterness in his voice. "There is a fine line between doing what is right and wrong, between what we want to do and what we have to do, and between love and hate. But we are men, and we are fools and we will still go against all logic for someone, regardless knowing if it is wrong. The ultimately decision is up to you."

Gendry took a moment to absorb Jon's words, before gathering up his courage to look Jon in the eyes.

"If…if we survive this war," Gendry started slowly, voice rising in certainty. "I would like to respectfully decline Storm's End. I do not wish to be a lord, my lord."

Jon nodded, not surprised. "What will you do?"

At his question, Gendry's blue eyes paused, and for the first time in days suddenly sparkled in mischief. Jon has seen this sparkle before, when the blacksmith was in the comforts of his forge, working on an assignment that he was passionate about.

"Have you ever wondered…what is west of Westeros?"

At that, Jon let out a genuine chuckle. "Sounds like an adventure."

"An adventure, indeed."

My ship is still sailing. Review!