Title: How to Care for Small, Wild Creatures

Summary: Gendry uses a 'how-to' book to help him gain Arya's affections. Unfortunately, things doesn't go exactly as planned…

'italics' – Gendry's thoughts

A/N: This is meant to be a more light-hearted humor fic, giving me the chance to play around with Gendry's character.


It didn't make sense to him.

This is making my head hurt.

Okay, so maybe when it came to matters of the heart, Gendry wasn't an expert. No, he has never been in love, and no, he has never been in any traditional relationships. But he liked to think that he – as well as the majority of the male race – wasn't completely clueless when it came to the opposite sex.

That's right, he knew a thing or two about women.

Gendry Baratheon was not stupid (despite what a certain Stark wolf like to call me). He knew the basics of things. He knew the gist of how these things were supposed to work and knew the rudimentary essentials of courting someone. I am not stupid.

The new lord of Storm's End may be stubborn… but not stupid. Or so he kept telling himself.

And yet, there he was, sitting at his desk in his solar, a flurry of scrolls and books scattered everywhere (so much for my reading lessons), pondering over his love life (or therefore lack of).

In his mind, he did everything that was needed in order to foster a strong relationship:

Step One: Build a foundation of trust and equal level of respect ('We traveled and lived together while being held captive in a band of murderers, rapists and criminals').

Step Two: Court the female ('I built her the weapon that she wished for, didn't I?').

Step Three: Confess your affection to said female ('Did that, and stupidly confessed my lack of fork-using skills apparently').

Step Four: Propose to said female ('Yes, did that').

Step Five: Live happily ever after and make babies (-insert roadblock here-.).

Of course, somewhere in between steps four and five, he assumed having an intimate relationship comes into play, so that was another point for him ('even if I did jump a step or two head of things – but hey, we were at war with undead wrights! And she bedded me!').

So where did he go wrong?

Was it calling her beautiful? Because she was, even despite all of the bruises and scars that was marring her face post-battle. She was always beautiful to him, even dressed in men's clothes and face muddied.

Was it asking her to be his lady? Because she should had known that he, for one, didn't have the first clue on what a true highborn lady entitles. She was never one to take titles seriously.

'Why didn't I just ask her to be my scavenger hunt buddy?' The black-hair lord thought bitterly. His face contorted frustrated and reached up to rub his temples with his fingers. "Bloody hells."

"Reading lessons not faring well, my lord?" a new voice erupted into the room, and in walked Davos, who was head of his council. He came baring a few pieces of bread and a pitcher of wine, which the stubborn bull took gratefully. He took a seat across from Gendry, peering over the mess of papers that littered the table. Gendry poured himself a full glass of wine before downing the entire glass in one go.

"If I knew being a lord would had been so … frustrating, I would had stayed a bastard."

Davos smiled sympathetically, fingers browsing through the random scrolls on the desk, "Every good lord need to know how to read, my lord. You will learn in time."

"Can you read?" Gendry scoffed.

A quirked eyebrow, "Better than you."

At his sarcastic tone, Gendry frowned, going back to rubbing his temples, trying to wane off the impending headache he felt arising.

The two sat in silence; Gendry, pretending to look like he was being productive, although he would much rather be in the forge right now while Davos looked on patiently at his young lord. He frowned when he was Gendry was currently glaring at a particular thick book.

"Don't you think that that text is a bit too… advanced for you to tackle right now, my lord?" Davos jested.

"Well, I don't know, what's so advanced about it?" Gendry frowned, slightly embarrassed for having his weaknesses challenged.

"I'm just suggesting that maybe 'Medicinal Cures of Progressive, Chronic Infections in Valyrian' might not be the best material to be practicing off of for someone at your stage."

If he could bang his head against the table, he would.

Davos shot him a compassionate look and chuckled lightly, rising up and reaching over to start clearing the papers and books. "You will get there in time, my lord. If this old smuggler could learn how to read in his old age, then obviously you can."

Standing up with him, Gendry let out a deep sigh.

"I'll be in the forge if you need me."

"Of course, my lord."


To burn off steam, some men liked to hunt. Some men liked to drink. Some men liked to whore around. But for Gendry, being in the forge surpassed all of those aforementioned pastimes.

It was there that, hours later, Davos found him, still hammering away at a piece of steel with his hammer.

I wonder what she's doing now?

Cling.

Cling.

Cling.

"Thought you might still be here," Davos entered silently, parcel in hand, careful not to distract the blacksmith from his work.

Cling.

Cling.

Yes, probably off somewhere shooting arrows into the wall.

Cling.

Cling.

Cling.

"Feeling better?"

Cling.

Cling.

Cling.

I wonder if she ever thinks of me?

Cling.

"Going to ignore me?"

Cling.

Cling.

Yea, I didn't think so either.

Cling.

Cling.

Cling.

"The Night King is approaching."

Cling.

Cling.

Cling.

Maybe I should build a time machine and go back in time to re-do that moment?

Cling.

Cling.

Cling.

But … how?

Cling.

Cling.

'Stubborn bull,' Davos thought humorously, as he watched the Baratheon boy hammer away quietly.

"I'll leave you to it then," Davos announced before walking over to a nearby bench. "Just wanted to drop this off to you." He placed his parcel down – a book – and turned his attention back to the smith. "Think that you will have an easier time reading this one, you will. Easier words…in common language." He didn't miss the annoyed look from the smith as bowed respectfully before taking his leave. "My lord."

The sun had long set before Gendry finally decided to call it a night and clean the forge up before heading back to his bedchambers. Before leaving, he passed by his work bench, curiously looking down at the book he vaguely remembers Davos dropping by earlier. Picking up the book with soot covered hands, he glanced at the title peculiarly.

"Ha – how to," he brows scrunched up in concentration, trying to remember his lessons, "c-care fo' sm…all (small!) small, wah – wah-ildle …creatures…"

A small wash of accomplishment washed over him. Interesting choice of reading, Ser Davos, he thought absentmindedly, but was too weary to think any further. Tired from his long night, he quickly finished packing up before making way back to the castle, book in tow.

What harm could trying to read this one do?


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