AUTHOR'S NOTE

In this plot Westeros bought the whole "fake Arya plot" and Jon died for it.

Arya returned back to home stumbling first with the Brotherhood on her way to Winterfell

Stannis died in the Battle for Winterfell against Ramsay

Sansa never got screwed with that horrible tv show plot and remained at the Eyrie

And Daenerys arrived side by side with her newly reunited nephew Aegon.

He was at loss...

An identity crisis at its best. What right did a bastard have taking a page in history? Tainting its legacy with illegitimacy. If they survived, that is... and if so, what would his life be? Should he go back to Kings Landing? Live the life of a smith? Find a young lass and raise a family with her? "No"; Gendry mumbled shaking his head. Immediately he heard movement next to him but tried to coach his body into total stillness. He was not going to go in a conversation about Arya with him of all people.

No! His subconscious said, with more conviction than his own voice. He couldn't! Damn it, he didn't even know what to call himself now. He was a Waters yet he had a spot in the war council, a big bright yellow banner with a strong stag behind him, but he wasn't fooling anyone that he even wanted to play the part. Fuck it, you're much more than a lord; had said Arya. Almost, almost making him believe it was just that simple. But it wasn't, walkers or no; the lines were drawn and Arya and him were not in equal footing. She would forever be his "lady".

"Stop thinking, you're giving me a bloody headache".-

"Stealing your sister's lines?"

"You're an easy man to read Gendry. You best clear your mind. We have a fight ahead and you need to be focused"- Jon said. Ever so serious, ever so right. Ever so righteously annoying.

How come Jon didn't feel like he did? Divided between the bastard and the highborn? Living a perpetual lie under the Crown of a King. That's because he doesn't fashion himself a king. It's duty. The men hailed him as one and he'll do his part till death. A Targaryen my ass, that's my father's son. That's my brother!- Arya had said one night, snarling with passion. One of the few moments she actually displayed some kind of emotion.

Gendry had taken his time in getting to know the infamous Jon Snow. Getting to put together piece by piece of first; Arya's beloved brother who was to take them in once they reached The Wall a long, long time ago when they were children. Then it was the 999th Lord Commander; the clearly delusional commander who had sent letters to all of Westeros pleading for aid, then it was the King of the North which was quickly replaced by "rightful heir of the Throne" with a whole brand new name to come with it. Lord Marderly had joked one night that Jon and Arya both had more names than Daenerys would ever have. The joke was not well received.

It was hard to really get to know someone these days. Arya herself felt like a flower with many layers, a poisonous rose that pricked your fingers with each petal you plucked. There were times Gendry was ready to let her go but then she flipped a switch and she was his Arya again. At least for a short time to get him hooked once more... but not Jon, never good old, bloody perfect Jon. What you saw, it was you got. Loyal, sincere, selfless Jon. Others may add brave to the list but Gendry wasn't one, he had seen fear in Jon Snow's eyes before because Jon Snow wasn't stupid. He was well aware of the dangers they faced, he had seen fear in Jon Snow's eyes the day they left the Wall in search for proof for Cersei and he had seen fear in Jon Snow's eyes right this morning when he parted ways with his sisters and brother. Fear, also primal fear along with rage covered Jon Snow's eyes every time Gendry laid his hands on his precious Arya.

"You worry for her. For Arya"- Jon felt the need to clarify after Gendry ignored him and kept looking ahead.

"It's a different dynamic in battle to have loved ones by your side. Lines get blurred, men get killed because you can't be objective. This I know"- Jon's words hit a mark making Gendry turn his head, blue eyes sparking with menace.

"I'd die for her as much as you did!" He spat. Not caring for each's personal guard very much interested in their conversation and the taboo that represented Jon's resurrection.

"Aye... I know that. It's just that if I would have known all that is happening now. The Night King, the Long Night"- Jon spoke with resolution, carefully flicking the pummel of his sword "Even if it was the real Arya married off to Ramsay. I don't think I would have tried to rescue her"-

"Fucking Starks" Gendry spat. Looking Jon clearly in the eye. She could die! He screamed internally while he saw the rest of the vanguard grasping their swords and waiting for Jon's command if the Bull got uncontrollable. Jon returned his stare and said nothing for what it seems to be an eternity.

"Walk with me"- Jon said coolly not even turning around to see if he was following him. He did after a beat and nodding off to Beric who always was near him with his one knowing eye.

There was one thing he did like. He was a mortal after all. Gendry felt pride when he walked and people bowed to him. Not because he was a lord, not because the unwanted association with the King of the North but because of terror. Sadly, in a very sick way he was feared. He would never act on it, he truly was a gentle soul but he could at least play the part. After many years of being a scared orphan tossed around as a bargaining chip it was a relief to know that he could not only fight back now but he could also win. Staying with the Brotherhood had done him good; bleeding men had made him famous, fighting alongside Arya had made him a legend.

As they walked around the cold barren battleground Gendry wondered how many people would actually survive. They were so many women, so many children present. His heart and not his eyes made him look up to the skies in search of a dragon.

"Over there."- Jon pointed ahead to a small part of the camp where the children had set up shop to sharpen swords and make arrows. Jon sat gently dismissing the little boys and girls who looked at him with awe. "So..."-

"So..." Gendry replied not even wanting to sit down. Getting annoyed as he saw in Jon's face the same expression Arya had when she called him stupid and not in her "loving" way.

Jon sighed and rubbed his temple. In a microsecond Gendry saw how he mentally took off his crown and went back to Ned Stark's bastard. A Snow, not a Targaryen.

"I would have preferred if you got this reaction before the actual fight started. Days ago would have been ideal, in your smithy where no one dares come inside. Not in front of men who look up to you, who are counting on you to give them strength and valor"-

Mentally Gendry counted to ten. An exercise that helped a lot with Arya but he still looked around to see how far they had walked away from the camp. His voice tended to travel when angry.

"You knew all about her little plan and you went with it" He spat shaking an accusatory finger at Jon.

"I knew nothing about her 'little plan' till this morning"-

"Really? Is that so? Then why was my presence ignored at the war council? Because correct me your Grace"; the title was meant with everything but reverence "but I have a seat in that council that you yourself gave to me, yet the one meeting that my... that my..."

"That your what Lord Baratheon?"- Jon asked, this time the Kings turn to mock at his title.

"Don't you dare play rank on me now Jon. This is more than titles. This is blood. This is your sister!"

"And that she's my sister somehow makes this situation any easier? It's not just her you know! It's my sister and my... my..."-

Jon actually stuttered and Gendry wondered if he looked stupid like that as well when talking about sentimental matters.

"For fucks sake" He muttered finally sitting down beside Jon and tying to ignore that suddenly half of the army had abandoned their position and where idly standing around them doing trivial chores.

"I can't concentrate if I don't have her by my side, if I can't see where she is. She's reckless and insensitive and I get that you can't tell Daenerys what to do. She is the Queen and her defense is the best we have with her dragons and all but Arya?" Gendry gritted. "Her riding with Daenerys is clear madness"

"Or brilliance if she gets a shot of the Night King and ends him before we all die"- Jon replied again without even looking at him.

And that there was the problem. A real wolf riding in the skies with the dragon Queen. Arya's idea of course, seconded by the Queen herself and who could say no to those two? Jon could. He'd try and shackle Arya to her father's tomb if he could but would still have to deal with Daenerys, Gendry on the other hand answered to no one. Especially to the lanky boy who was responsible for planting the idea in Arya's head; Aegon. It was him who offered Arya to ride with him yet the Queen shot down the idea saying that it was best she rode alongside Drogon because Aegon was still not as adept rider with Viserion.

There were days that Gendry wondered if blood had more weight in personality traits than upbringing, because he was battling the same demons Robert Baratheon fought to his death; rage again the Targaryens, a sickly obsession with a Stark girl and an unbridled fury that was dying to come out of his body, demanding blood and violence in whichever form it was presented.

He had felt it, the fury; running through his veins even as a small boy. He'd shake the thoughts and dismiss them. Being left alone by his mother at a small age, deserted in the streets of Kings Landing didn't do wonders for a child's psyche. He wasn't ungrateful yet he couldn't warm up to the idea of Tobho Mott being anything other than his owner, after all; he was paid to take care of the King's bastard and protect his anonymity. By who? He'd might never know but it was pointless now. Stannis was dead and Gendry was quite sure no one cared about the Baratheon legacy. He certainly didn't.

The feeling kept rising exponentially step by step on the Kings Road along with Yoren and his men, by now Gendry was a bargain ship, on the road to the Wall with a small girl with delusions on her mind. Frustration, real fear and sense of abandonment took hold of the young boy for the first time within the walls of Harrenhall, yet the void, the nothingness that gripped his soul happened the day Arya ran away from the Brotherhood and his life. He remembered those days like a fever dream, running his horse to death in the rain screaming her name, being stopped by force by faceless brothers as he cried seeing the first Stark banner flouting on the river, then Lady Stoneheart came and he gladly welcomed her.

Those years were a blur, he truly didn't remember them. Death was all that came to mind, the Lady took a liking to him as much as he did to her. He never told her about her daughter, none of them did, but her eyes held the same rage Gendry felt and gladly beat, tortured and killed anyone he thought responsible for taking Arya away. A false sense of righteousness that dissolved at night huddled in a cave, alone, repeating word for word behind sad grey eyes.

"I could be your family..."- the winds hand't failed to whisper to him every single night since she left.

He can't say the feeling subsided, maybe diverted itself into something else, a perverted excitement perhaps as the large direwolf trotted back into the camp as if it owned it. Curiously Nymeria bared her fangs at the Lady yet bowed down to Gendry. Together the hunt for Lannisters and Freys became exhilarating, a hunting sport of sort in which he excelled, by now he started taking a liking to warhammers and running soldiers down, the scrunch of their skulls reverberating in the air made the solemn bastard laugh again, regardless the twisted reason behind his smile..

Then one day it stopped. The nothingness came back again, at least for a day, for a second, a fraction of time that froze as he stood behind the small girl, no, woman now, inside the small tent, the body of Lady Stoneheart on the floor.

He felt odd weeks before, watched, yet when he turned around no one was there. Nymeria started to disappear for days in between and the enemy soldiers they found were crazed and paranoid talking about ghosts and more than eager to meet their deaths.

Arya Stark killed the shell that was once her mother in the middle of the night and took charge of the Brotherhood without Banners, no one said anything when she outranked Beric and Thoros, no one said anything when she said they needed to clean the Riverlands before marching up North. No one said anything when Gendry stood by her side.

This is when the feeling exploded, the rage he felt morphed into a beast with a thousand heads, a mythological creature from the stories of old in the form of Arya Stark, she killed with abandon, she commanded playing people's fears and she possessed his soul like the Stranger himself. She owned him, probably even as children like the highborn she was taking under her protection the poor, lonely bastard. Now she controlled him with a blink of an eye, she enchanted him with her lips and she devoured his soul every night when they were joined as one. She fucked as she fought; viciously leaving nothing behind, she took and Gendry gladly gave. It was love, what more could it be than the most basic feeling ever expressed by mankind? He was her's as she was his because leave no doubt that just as Arya controlled him; he pushed her strings the same way. Some say they were bad for each other, toxic Beric had once said, but it didn't matter. He finally had her back and he pitied the fool who tried to take her away from him.

The fool ended up being him, the bastard winning the best of him. Jealousy brimming just below the surface as sister embraced her long lost brother. Murderous thoughts as a Targaryen Prince flew the skies, Gendry's own hands gripping her thin neck a bit too tight at night while still being inside Arya after she brushed him off and called him stupid.

His blood was wildfire waiting to explode and kill everyone around him.

He almost lost it, almost. It was a few weeks ago after the Targaryen army arrived at Winterfell. Stannis had fallen in the Battle of the Bastards so the camp was in disarray, it would have been so easy. Aegon tended to go alone in the woods at night, no armor, no weapons, no guards, only a useless harp in his hands that was no match for a smith's bare hands, and with the strong winds of winter coating everything white below a thick blanket of snow he wouldn't even have to bother digging a grave. Politically it wouldn't matter, the northern forces cared little for the pompous prick, it would have to be left to the Queen herself and what little Gendry knew about her is that she fashioned herself queen regardless who stood by her side, without her nephew she'd still have another son of her late brother to sleep in her bed ending another problem for Gendry.

Yes, it would have been easy. His men would vouch for him giving him an alibi and if someone dared to speak the truth would it even matter? There would be a riff in the army since Gendry commanded the Brotherhood who'd secured the entire Riverlands; the Freys were no more and the Blackfish had given the order himself as he died in Arya's arms, the Bull was to take the lead as the old man knew no one respected Edmure anymore and that Cat's daughter was a loose cannon and preferred to work alone. There would have to be a trial and with the impending battle with the Night King who would waste one of their best men.

Yes, it would have been easy, only Arya would know, he could never lie to her but he didn't care, to her he would gladly admit his doing. He could take a life in cold hands just like she did because the joke of it all was that in truth Arya Stark cared little for Aegon Targaryen, she just liked toying with the Prince and most importantly to mess with Gendry's head. Cruel, vicious Arya, but still his.

"That is not how his life ends Ser Gendry"- Bran had said. Materialized behind him with the help of one of many soldiers. Still Gendry was tempted to do the deed but stopped cold after the words spoken by the young boy with old soul. "That is not how his life ends and that is not how the Baratheon line will prosper. The seed is strong Ser Gendry, the seed must not be tainted with blood"—

Call him a bastard as many times as you wanted but there was only one woman he would lay for the rest of his life.

"Your sister, Arya?..." Gendry asked hesitantly. She had explained to him the powers Bran had acquired beyond the wall yet it wasn't something he fully understood. He respected them all the same, magic ruled Westeros once again for better or worse. Gendry still didn't know which side the Three Eyed Raven sided with tho.

"My sister's faith is fickle like her sword. Your faith is strong and carries finality as the Warhammer you carry. Honor the Baratheon name, not your father Gendry. Do this and the flame you carry will finally perish bringing you peace till the rest of your days"—

Then and there Gendry decided to let it go, that was of course after last night's events. Arya had come quietly to his smithy like she always did and fucked him like they would die that same night. She'd also come armed with wine saying that they would probably die in the wars to come, her smiles she gave freely and very quickly had him drunk with wine and her kisses. Gendry had woken up far long from when the sun rose and the war council had finished, the decision had been made and Arya left without even saying goodbye. And here he was, the day of the final battle had come, months of waiting coming to a conclusion, who would be the victor was unsure but the finality of it all had set in. 'Not today'- Gendry heard Jon whisper as a screech was heard from the opposite side of the battlement, a dragon, a dead one breathing shards of ice. Both men rose to their feet, a poignant role to play in the wars to come, it was time to let fate run it's course and fight their best.

A strong grip shook his hands, turning around he faced the same grey eyes that owned his soul. Same color, different stare "When all this ends you and I will sit down, the proper way, and discuss my sister"- Jon said making Gendry smile for the first time in hours. He quickly shock him off and put on his new bull helmet giving more height, adding to is impressive stature, the long horns giving him a devilish look.

"When all this ends your sister and I are going to sit down, our way and discuss our future" Gendry replied, this time the smile on his face a genuine one after seeing Jon bristle. No goodbyes were spoken as both men walked towards their stations, barking orders, making sure everyone knew their role.

Hooves from Dothkrati horses made the ground vibrate, dragonglass still managed to sparkle all over the field as a heavy mist descended upon them, prayers to various Gods filled the air while Gendry took one last look to the skies.

"It's time for the Red God's will to be fulfilled."- Beric spoke next to him but Gendry's mind was far away. As a green colored dragon dove straight into the wall of wights and Jon gave the signal to fight, Gendry's head was filled with Bran's voice and words like seed and future. No, he wasn't going to die yet, not today. Because Gendry Waters was not done with Arya Stark, and the cold death itself wouldn't part him from his Lady.