WARNING: Rating's up to M. It's nothing too graphic, but please be aware that there is a sexual situation involving a minor. If you don't like that kind of things, you can just skip Gendry's POV and jump to Ned's.

Once again, thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited and alerted!

GENDRY

He winced in sympathy when Syrio Forel managed to disarm Arya and hit her shoulder hard with his wooden sword, but she didn't let it unsettle her. She dodged the next attack and quickly picked up her training weapon. He watched, fascinated, as she fell into her water dancer's stance and attacked. He couldn't help but smile proudly when she surprised the First Sword of Braavos with a quick strike and the foreigner had to take a step back. However, she was so distracted with throwing him a bright smile after this victory that Syrio had no trouble disarming her once again, and Gendry had to laugh at her indignant growl. Across the room, Nymeria raised her head, making sure Arya was in no real danger before going back to her nap.

He loved watching her practice. It had been going on for six months, since the Starks had arrived in King's Landing. Since there was no one here who would agree to fight with her except for him, and since he was usually too busy to do so, her father had hired Syrio Forel to teach her how to handle a sword properly. He had to admit, the braavosi style suited her. Though she had only managed to hit her instructor a handful of times in six months, she was graceful, quick and stronger than anyone would give her credit for.

The lesson ended and he waited for her to join him. Once Syrio had left, she sat down on the floor next to him, leaning against the wall, and she stole the apple he had barely touched, taking a healthy bite before handing it back to him. He chuckled when he noticed she'd managed to eat half the fruit in one mouthful and he bumped her shoulder in retaliation.

"Hey! That's no way to treat a future queen."

He was so glad that she was able to joke about this that he just laughed again and gave her a quick kiss, tasting the sweet juice on her lips. She smiled against his mouth, and what had just been a way to express an innocent affection turned passionate when her hand climbed up his chest to grab his shoulder and pull him closer. Instead of complying, he grabbed her by the waist, he swiftly pushed her so that she was lying on her back and he ignored her surprised squeal to position himself on top of her. When his hand found the front laces of her shirt, she looked up at him with curiosity. They had shared plenty of kisses ever since that first night on the King's Road, but he had never let things progress any further. She was expected to stay a maiden until her wedding night, and while he wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep inside her, he couldn't, not yet. He could not risk anyone finding out and using it to endanger their engagement, not when this marriage meant more to him than he'd ever expected. He had no doubt someone like his mother would use every single fault against them.

This explained why Arya seemed puzzled by his initiative. But she was too desirable teasing him, laughing with him and kissing him like that, her cheeks flushed and her chest still heaving from hours of fencing. There was only so much he could take. He untied the last knot, but she stopped him before he could take her shirt off.

"Someone might come in."

"Right." He turned to the direwolf who was sleeping with one eye open on the other side of the room. "Nymeria!" Her head perked up at her name. "Door."

She instantly got up to trot toward the door Syrio Forel had left ajar and she left the room, giving the panel a nudge with her head once she was on the other side. The door closed, and Gendry knew that the direwolf would stand guard outside until either he or her mistress got out. He smiled and turned back to Arya. She was watching him with a mixture of nervousness, need and anticipation that made it hard for him to remember he was supposed to be taking this slow. He leaned down and she eagerly met his lips in a demanding kiss while his hand took care of her shirt and smallclothes. Soon, she was half-naked beneath him. His mouth left hers to travel down her throat and his tongue darted out to taste her skin, bringing a contented sigh to her lips. The sound turned into a moan when his hand found her breast and his thumb brushed her nipple. She squirmed, her body begging him to repeat the movement. Instead, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, sucking and biting lightly. She gasped at the sensation and ran her fingers through his hair, trying to keep him in place. But he had another destination in mind. He pressed open-mouthed kisses down her stomach. Even though she was lying on the cold floor, her skin was scalding hot and glistening with perspiration, though part of it might have had something to do with her fencing lesson. Next time, he'd have to make sure she was well rested, so that he could see if he could make her this hot all on his own. He smiled against her navel at the thought. Given the way she was responding to his touch, he had no doubt he could… if the fire didn't consume him first.

When he reached her breeches, he raised his head, looking at her face as he undid the laces that held it to her body. She wriggled her hips to help him get rid of her last remaining clothes. Her voice was low when she said, "I thought you said we had to wait."

He kissed his way up her body, avoiding the areas where she most wanted to be touched, ending with a sweet kiss on her lips before he replied.

"We do. But there are plenty of things we can do that are less… compromising."

To illustrate, he slipped a finger inside her. A strangled gasp fell from her lips and he waited for her to get used to the feeling before he started moving slowly, carefully searching her face for any sign of discomfort. When he only saw shock and pleasure, he added a second finger and he thrust a little harder, reveling in the way she bit down on her lower lip to keep from crying out. Her eyes stayed open, boring into his, and he found that just as enticing as her shivering body. He picked up his speed, her answering groan telling him she was close already. His thumb found the small bundle of nerve and pressed on it hard, and it was all it took for her to fall apart beneath him. He kept thrusting his fingers into her, helping her ride out the waves of pleasure until they slowly died down. He slipped his fingers out of her as she tried to catch her breath and he pressed soft kisses against her collarbone until she pulled him to her lips and kissed him lazily.

"That was fun," she panted when they parted.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," he answered with a grin.

She punched his shoulder.

"That's for being so cocky."

"Hey! That's no way to treat a future king."

She laughed and he gave her one last kiss before reluctantly standing up. He held a hand out to help her up and saw her blush when she took in the bulge in his pants.

"What about you?" she asked shyly.

"Next time. Right now, there's a council meeting my father wants me to attend. Please, get dressed. I don't want to walk in looking like that."

She chuckled and put on her clothes while he tried to get his body under control. When she picked up her wooden sword, she noticed the package he'd brought with him and forgotten about.

"What's that?"

"Oh. That's for you."

"A present?"

"It's your nameday," he reminded her.

"You mean that this," she motioned towards the spot where she'd been lying a few minutes ago, "wasn't my present?"

He laughed and shook his head.

"That was as much for me as it was for you." He picked up the package and handed it to her. "Here. I didn't want to give this to you during tonight's feast."

"Why not?"

"Open it."

She tucked her wooden sword in her belt and took the package, the weight obviously taking her by surprise. She took off the dark cloth that was enveloping her present. When she saw the sheath, she raised her eyes to meet his, not quite daring to hope. He gave her an encouraging nod and she finished unwrapping it. Her eyes widened at the sight of the hilt. He'd had it forged into a growling direwolf's head. She unsheathed the sword and gasped.

"Valyrian steel," she murmured reverently.

"How very improper of a lady to notice," he teased.

She must really like her present, because she didn't even punch him for that. Instead, she studied the blade and carefully held it in front of her, getting into her water dancer's stance and trying out the balance. After a few minutes, she turned her attention back to him, her eyes shining with what she would deny were unshed tears if he asked.

"Gendry, that's… thank you."

"What are you going to call it?"

She put the sword back in its sheath and looked at the hilt again.

"Fang, of course."

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him, but he pushed her back before she could deepen it.

"Please. I really do have a council meeting in a few minutes."

She smiled and clasped the sheath around her waist, noting that it fit perfectly on her small frame.

"I can see why you couldn't give it to me tonight. Although it could have been amusing. The future queen receiving a sword for her fifteenth nameday… I can only imagine Sansa's face."

He smiled as they walked together to the door. Just before he opened it, he felt her hand on his forearm and he stopped to look at her, surprised by how serious she suddenly looked.

"What's wrong?"

She hesitated, obviously torn about what she wanted to say. This was highly unusual. Ever since they'd met, they'd made a point of being honest with each other, they'd shared more than a few embarrassing stories, not to mention confessions he would never have made in front of anyone else and a couple of weak moments she had let him witness. He didn't see what she could still be embarrassed about. Still, he didn't ask, letting her make up her mind.

"Gendry… could you renounce your claim to the throne?"

He winced as he understood her hesitation. He'd suspected that they would need to have this conversation sooner or later, but he'd been hoping for later, although he should have known it would be sooner. The feelings that had developed between them had been as unexpected as they were intense, and while they'd initially agreed not to get married until he was king, these feelings made it hard to wait. If it had been up to him, he'd have wedded her months ago. And he knew that if she had not been so opposed to the idea of becoming a princess, she'd have wedded him weeks ago. Though there was also the matter of Sansa and Joffrey's betrothal to consider. His father had agreed with him and he had told Joffrey that he was to wait until after his older brother's wedding. If they got married now, nothing would protect Arya's sister from her betrothed.

"Technically, I could. But…"

"It would mean leaving it to Joffrey," she finished for him, her voice small.

He nodded and opened the door for her before following her out in the hallway, Nymeria falling in step beside them.

"If Tommen was next in the line of succession, I would do it in a heartbeat. I love you Arya, and I'd do almost anything for you, but not this. I can't. Can you imagine what this realm and its people would have to go through? Joffrey would ruin them before winter came, and…"

His voice trailed off when he realized that she was not by his side anymore. He turned around and saw that she stood frozen in place and that she was staring at him. He closed the gap between them and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, silently asking her what was wrong.

"You… love me?"

He had said that, hadn't he? Oh well, it might not have been the most romantic way to get it out in the open, but it didn't mean it wasn't true. He gave her a small smile.

"Yes, I love you. And correct me if I'm wrong, but we wouldn't be having this conversation if you didn't love me."

"It could be the gratitude at my present talking. But you're not wrong."

It was the closest she would ever come to saying it and he knew it. His smile widened before he went back to the topic at hand.

"I'm sorry, Arya. I wish there was…"

"I know. Just… Give me a little more time. I think I'm getting used to the idea. I mean… 'Princess Arya' doesn't sound too bad, does it? As for Sansa… we'll think of something."

Her voice sounded both hesitant and resolute, something only she could pull off that well. He was about to answer when a growl followed by a soft thud caught their attention and they both turned to look behind them. Gendry's eyes widened at what he saw, but before he had a chance to understand what was going on, he felt himself being pushed, he tripped, and his head hit the wall so hard that his vision turned black.

EDDARD

King Robert was dead.

He couldn't have hidden his shock if he'd tried. As it was, he didn't even try. The man he'd always thought of as a brother was dead. And he could hardly believe it, but this was actually the least of his concerns right now.

His main concern was survival. His own, mostly because if he died, no one would be able to protect Prince… King Gendry from the Queen. King Gendry's survival. His daughters' survival.

How was he supposed to ensure nothing would happen to them when he had no idea what Cersei's next move was going to be?

The squire who had galloped all the way to King's Landing to give him the news was looking at him expectantly and Ned felt a brief jolt of satisfaction at the thought that assigning the lad to Robert when he'd learnt the truth about the queen's children four months ago had been a good move on his part. His friend had died during a hunting party, taken down by a boar, the rest of his men were on their way to bring his body back to the capital. They would be here before nightfall. The fact that he'd made sure Robert's squire was loyal to him meant that he'd gotten the news before the queen, which gave him some time to think of a plan.

He paid the lad for his silence and sent him away, immediately calling for Jory. The captain of his household guard was there in less than a minute.

"You're the only one I can trust with this, but I need to know if…"

"I'd give my life for you, my lord."

"I'm afraid this is exactly what I'm about to ask of you."

"Then this is what I will do." Ned sighed. There was little chance his plan was going to work, and he hated having to ask this of Jory, but it was the only thing he had. Walking to his writing table, he wrote a few words and handed the parchment to the man he'd come to think of as one of his closest friends. Jory read it, and his eyes widened. "Queen Cersei and her three youngest children, suspected of treason? You're arresting them, my lord?"

"Take as many men as you need and act as discreetly as possible. Do not let Varys or Lord Baelish know what you are up to. I also need you to find Prince Gendry and my daughters. Bring them to my chambers and stay with them until I return."

"Yes, my lord."

When Jory seemed to hesitate and didn't leave right away to follow his order, Ned asked, "What is it?"

"What of the Kingslayer, my lord? He won't be happy about this and the Kingsguard will follow him."

"Leave Jaime Lannister to me."

Taking care of Cersei's lover had been the next step of his plan anyway. As soon as Jory left, Ned left his quarters to look for him. He found him in one of the hallways.

"Lord Stark. What brings you here?"

"I have matters to discuss with you, Ser Jaime."

"Of course. Why don't we…"

"Stay here," Ned completed, his voice as hard as steel.

The Kingslayer lifted an eyebrow, stunned. Ned knew why. He'd always been courteous if wary, hearing him use that kind of tone had to be unsettling, which was exactly why he'd done it. Jaime Lannister quickly recovered and gave him a small smile.

"As you wish, my lord. What can I do for you?"

He took a deep breath. He was about to reveal almost everything he knew and he wasn't sure it was a good idea, but he had no other choice if he wanted Jaime Lannister to keep quiet about what he knew.

"You can keep doing absolutely nothing. King Gendry will sit on the Iron Throne, and you and your family will not do a thing to prevent it. I don't know who else knows about the circumstances of his birth, but whoever does, tell them to keep quiet."

It wasn't exactly true. He knew that Pycelle knew everything, Robert had told him as much. Since the pregnancy had been complicated and since the child had been so important, the Grand Maester had been the one to deliver Gendry 19 years ago, something the King had almost instantly regretted. Pycelle's allegiance was wavering at best, and while some people might have been willing to believe Robert over Cersei if she'd decided to tell the truth, no one would have doubted the Grand Maester's word.

Not a muscle moved on his foe's face, but a flash of something passed in his eyes. Surprise, anger, and a hint of respect at his forwardness. Just like Ned had expected, he addressed the unusual title first.

"King Gendry?"

"King Robert is dead, Ser Jaime."

"Hm. How unfortunate."

"Yes, I'm sure you're just as heartbroken as I am, but we have other matters to worry about."

"Ah, yes. Like Gendry's illegitimacy."

"You will not say a word of it, to anyone."

"Or what, Lord Stark? You'll kill me? Like you implied earlier, other people know about it, there's nothing you can do to keep this secret… well, a secret."

Ned did his best Littlefinger impression, his smile part knowing, part menacing.

"Isn't there?"

"I'm afraid not."

"How about this: if the truth ever comes out, your sister will not survive her imprisonment." Rage replaced everything else in Jaime Lannister's eyes and his hand automatically went to the hilt of his sword. Ned gave him a disapproving look, and before he could unsheathe his weapon, he warned, "I would hate for you to find out what would become of your lover and children if anything were to happen to me or my family."

He hoped his enemy would not see through him. While his threat towards Cersei's life was genuine, he didn't want to have to harm Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. Still, he was hoping that even if he did realize that Ned was lying about his intentions towards them, Jaime valued his sister's life enough for the threat to work. After a few tense minutes, the Kingslayer smiled an almost pleasant smile.

"I guess you win this round, Lord Stark. But remember, a Lannister always pays his debts… In fact, I believe this one is being paid as we speak."

He turned on his heels and left, leaving Ned alone with his rising panic.

ARYA

She'd reacted faster than Gendry, and for that she was grateful. He would have tried to protect her and probably gotten himself killed in the process. Now she was the one who was going to die, but maybe she could at least hold the assailant back long enough for someone to realize what was happening and get here in time to save Gendry.

When she'd turned to see what the dull sound had been and seen Nymeria's body lying on the floor behind her, a dart barely visible in the fur of her neck, her eyes had automatically travelled upwards to find where the weapon had come from. She hadn't been surprised to find a man in the hallway, though she had no idea how he had gotten here since there was no way in this way except for the window and they were in one of the highest places of the castle. He'd been about to shoot a tiny crossbow, the same one that had just taken down her direwolf and, seeing he was aiming it at Gendry, she'd shoved the prince as hard as she could, the strength of the push taking even her by surprise. She'd just wanted to get him out of harm's way, but she had pushed too hard, he had tripped on Nymeria's body, his head had hit the wall, and he'd slid down to the floor, unconscious.

Now the stranger directed the crossbow at her, so she did the only thing she could do: she threw herself at him, tackling him to the ground. The weapon fell out of reach. The man pushed her off him so hard that she fell backwards, but she quickly got back to her feet and she saw that he had just unsheathed a sword. The shock in his eyes told her that he had not expected he would need to use it. He'd thought this was going to be an easy mission. He hadn't counted on her reacting as fast as she had. Only Nymeria had looked like a real threat to him when she'd growled, alerting them of his presence, which was why he'd killed her first.

In the split second it took her to analyze the situation, she also remembered about the unfamiliar weight at her waist and, with a predatory smile, she brandished her brand new sword.

No one but her father and Gendry knew about her lessons with Syrio, they hadn't told anyone because it was highly improper of a lady to learn how to fight, but today, this secrecy was coming in handier than they'd ever thought. This man had obviously dismissed her as an inoffensive pawn, and while she had no illusion about her chances of surviving this encounter, this misconception of his might end up being what would save Gendry's life.

The man raised his eyebrows when he saw her slide into the water dancer's stance. She was not surprised when he mirrored her position. The assassin was skilled enough to have taken down a direwolf before the animal had had a chance to tear his throat open, there was only one explanation. She had heard many tales about the Faceless Men, she knew that they were trained in Braavos, so she knew what to expect. She warded off the first attack so easily that she knew right away he had just been testing her, so she didn't make the mistake of thinking the whole fight would be as easy.

Apparently surprised by the amount of skill she had just displayed, he took a step back before he attacked again, which gave her just enough time to catch her breath and call for the guards. She didn't think it would be much use, they were probably too far away to hear her, but she had to try.

As she dodged another, more powerful, assault, she heard a groan behind her. She didn't let it distract her, but she quickly sent a silent prayer to the old gods and the new that he would wake up in the next few seconds. He was unarmed, but if they fought two against one, it would vastly improve their chances of getting out of this alive.

"Arya."

His voice was weak and confused and, after forcing her opponent to take a step back, she risked a quick glance in Gendry's direction, noting his eyes were open but unfocused. She turned her attention back to the fight after a fraction of a second, but even such a short inattention almost cost her her life. She didn't make a sound when the blade pierced her right side. She just gritted her teeth and focused on the next attack.

This was when Gendry fully woke up. She felt his presence next to her before she saw him out of the corner of her eyes. He waited for a pause in the duel to grab the wooden sword that was dangling at her side and he swiftly swung it at the man's head. The assassin bent down just in time, and Arya took advantage of his distraction to try and plunge her blade in his heart, but his sword deflected hers and she only reached his arm. Still, it was better than nothing. It finally felt like he could be beaten.

Gendry must have thought the same thing, because as soon as she took her blade out of the man's flesh, he hit the injury hard with the wooden sword, and their opponent grunted in pain.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind them and she screamed for help. When he realized that the guards were coming, the assassin took a step back and analyzed the situation. Gendry tried to stop him when he jumped out of the window, but Arya called the prince back. Even if they managed to capture him alive, he wouldn't talk. It wasn't worth the risk. Besides, she needed Gendry here with her, not running after the man who had tried to kill them. She was about to tell him so when her legs buckled under her and she fell down on her knees, her left hand letting go of her sword and going to the injury at her side to try and keep the pain at bay. Blood tainted her fingers quicker than she'd thought possible, and she realized that she had been hurt more badly than she'd initially thought. The sense of danger and the need to fight for their lives had kept her from noticing how deep the blade had gone up until this moment, but she was now very aware of the fact that she had little chance of surviving such a wound.

"Arya!"

Gendry was suddenly kneeling next to her, his arms wrapped around her, his hand covering hers as he yelled for the guards to hurry up. He helped her lie down on the floor, and through her blurred vision the only thing she could see was his face. She gave him a weak smile, because death had never scared her and because if she had to die, then she wanted the last thing she ever saw of this world to be these clear blue eyes. He was alive, his arms were strong and familiar around her, his body was warm, and his skin was soft as his fingers intertwined with hers. It wasn't such a bad way to go.

"Arya… Arya, don't die. Don't you dare. Not now. Not ever."

His voice sounded like it was coming from far away, and she wasn't sure if it was because she was drifting away or because he had trouble speaking over his sobs. The thought of her own imminent death left her feeling strangely detached, but his tears pierced through her heart as surely as the blade had pierced through her flesh. She tried to lift a hand to stroke his cheek, but she barely managed to move her fingers. His hold on her hand tightened as her strength seemed to desert her, as if he was trying to give her some of his.

She'd always thought dying would hurt, but she was just tired.

So tired.

"I need you. Stay with me."

She wanted to. She really wanted to. But it didn't look like she had a say in the matter. She felt her eyelids drop, but she could rest for only a second before a sharp pain jolted her awake. Her eyes flew open and focused on him, her shock even greater than the sting on her cheek. Had he just slapped her?

"Arya, listen to me. I need you to stay awake. I need you to stay alive. What do we say to the God of Death?"

She had just enough energy left in her to smile faintly at the familiar words, but not enough to give him the answer he was waiting for. She wasn't sure if he actually spoke the next words out loud or if she just heard them in her head, her dying mind trying to hold onto his voice and warmth for as long as it could.

Not today.

TBC…

I know. Mean. I hate cliffhangers too… except when I know what's going to happen next *insert evil laugh here*