Author's Note :: I can't decide if I like this chapter or not... I suppose I'll just have to wait to hear from you guys to see what you think. Again, thank you so much to all of you who have favorited, followed, and reviewed this. It really means a lot to me to know that you guys enjoy it so much!

Gendry

"Take a walk with me, Gendry," the Hand of the King ordered. Jory was with him as per usual and the older man moved to stand beside the door to the room Arya was using for her lessons.

Gendry bowed his head and followed Lord Stark obediently. The two men walked through the castle and to the meager Godswood the Red Keep held in silence.

Arya had told him time and again that it wasn't really a Godswood since there was no weirwood tree. She told him of how Southrons like him had all forsaken the Old Gods of the First Men in favor of the Seven and their septs. She had often told him of the Godswood in Winterfell, how it was one of the many things she missed most about her home in the north. Gendry wondered if the same was true of Lord Stark.

When they reached the heart of the Godswood, Ned looked around briefly, hands clasped behind his back. Gendry wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but he followed in silent obedience. After circling the area, they returned to the center. Lord Stark took a seat on an old stone bench and the silence continued for a few moments.

"I've always found peace in the Godswood in Winterfell. It's a good place to think. And to be by yourself. No prying eyes or ears of mice or birds," Lord Stark mused, looking tired and worn. Gendry watched the older man quietly for a moment, unsure of what to say as usual.

"What do you know of your parentage, Gendry?" he asked bluntly. That was one of the things he liked about Eddard Stark (and Arya as well), the fact that he didn't beat around the bush with words.

The question caught him off guard, however. Arya had asked him briefly about it back when Gendry had first been brought into the service of House Stark. But after he admitted knowing nothing of his fatehr or much of his mother, that had pretty much been the end of it. And, to be honest, Gendry really hadn't thought much about it at all. Until now, that is.

"My mother died when I was young. She worked in a tavern. Don't know who my father was or whatever happened to him. Not that I care much." There was a grudging tone in his voice.

Ned Stark nodded solemnly, watching him with a strange look in his grey eyes. There was a few more moments of silence before the older man took a breath and leveled his gaze at Gendry. "You once asked me why it is that Queen Cersei dislikes you," he said.

Gendry's stomach plummeted. As often as Arya liked to call him Stupid, he was fairly quick when it came to certain things like this. Ned had left no real openings for interpretation. There was only one reason that he would ask Gendry what he knew of his parentage and then change the subject to the queen. Though the young man could not believe what the older was implying.

"You can't be serious," he groaned, forgetting himself again. Lord Stark didn't seem to mind the missing courtesy, however. Gendry pulled a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends of it as he clenched his jaw. "You're telling me, that my mother actually… with him, of all people!?" he asked, incredulous.

"I understand how hard this must be, Gendry. But yes, you are the king's bastard child. One of the many, unfortunately. Queen Cersei has no love for the reminders of her husband's behaviors."

Gendry huffed a heavy sigh and sank onto the bench across from Lord Stark. He placed his head in his hands and tried to wrap around what he was just told. It couldn't be possible… It was just too ridiculous! But it had been made obvious enough.

Lord Stark stood, looking down at Gendry. He made to stand as well, but his lord shook his head. Stark placed a hand on his shoulder in a show of comfort, giving a small and sympathetic smile. That only served to fuel Gendry's anger, however. He didn't want sympathy. He didn't want to know that his mother had let that fat, blubbering slob into her bed. From all that he could remember, his mother was beautiful, even for a low-born tavern wench. Thinking about how King Robert Baratheon had fathered him only made him think lowly of his mother. He didn't think he could live with himself if he thought of her as a lowly whore.

"Stay, Gendry. Take some time to yourself. When you are ready, return to the Tower of the Hand. I will be fine on my own."

"Thank you, m'lord," Gendry said through gritted teeth.

As he watched him leave, all that he could think about was how he was Gendry Waters, bastard son of King Robert Baratheon, the first of his name. As though being a simple bastard hadn't been enough for him. Now he was a king's bastard.

Arya was the one who found him in the Godswood. He had stayed there as the sun crept across the sky, pacing back and forth and punching things to release some of the anger he had in him. The knuckles of his hands were bruised and some of the skin had been torn, blood rising to the surface. He had been waving his sword about in the air at imaginary enemies when his charge found him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, startling him. He hadn't heard her creep up behind him. Whirling, Gendry brought his sword up above his head before he realized what he was doing. Seeing who it was that had snuck up on him, he lowered his sword, feeling a bit of a fool.

"Nothing, m'lady."

"Well that's stupid. Obviously you're doing something," she stated matter-of-factly. She searched his face for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. "Whatever. Are you coming back to the Tower of the Hand? I don't want to have to suffer Sansa swooning over her stupid prince by myself anymore."

At the thought of Prince Joffrey Baratheon, Gendry's anger surged again. The fact that he was technically related to that little cunt frustrated him to no end. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair for the millionth time. Arya seemed to catch on to his discomfort over something and she tilted her head, biting her lip in thought.

"Or not. We could just stay here and practice swords. Or wander King's Landing," she suggested. It was silent for a few moments, during which Gendry was trying to figure out what in seven hells was going through Arya's mind. He wondered if Sansa was really being that bad or there was something else going on.

"You didn't tell anyone where you went, did you?" Gendry said. It wasn't a question, and Arya shrugged, plopping down on the path and staring up at him.

"If we return and I say I was with you, I won't get in trouble."

"Yes, but I will."

"No, you won't. You worry too much, Stupid. Obviously, I'm fine. My well-being is all you need to worry about. That's your job, isn't it?"

Gendry furrowed his brow, wondering why Arya was acting this way. He often wondered that, and he probably shouldn't have. Arya would act the way that Arya wanted to act, and nothing could change that. But still… Something about her manner was bothering him, almost worrying him.

"What happened?" he asked. Her grey eyes shot up to him and quickly away. She laid back on the hard-packed earth, staring up at the sky.

"Nothing," she said completely unconvincing. "I just needed to get away. You know that feeling, don't you?"

Gendry shrugged, sheathing the naked steel he still held in his hand. He moved to sit next to her, ignoring the proper things required of him as a man in service to House Stark in favor of the easy-going comfort of friendship.

"Yes and no. My way of getting away was banging a hammer against steel until I felt better," he said softly, thinking fondly of the forge, his home.

They fell into silence again, Gendry's anger ebbing away as he spent time with Arya. As much as her personality was like wildfire, she was calming to him for some reason. Perhaps it was because he didn't want to be rash with her or scare her or get angry around her. He didn't want her to see him at his worst. He couldn't say for certainty why he felt that way, he just did. He also knew that feeling that way about her could get him into trouble with her father and just about every other person in the Seven Kingdoms.

But for now, it was Gendry and Arya and no one else mattered.

"I'm sorry," Arya said after a while of silence. Her sudden apology startled Gendry, who had thought that she had dozed off for a bit. When he turned his eyes on her, she was looking at him again in a way that made him almost uncomfortable. There was something akin to pity in her grey eyes and he hated seeing it.

He scoffed, trying to make light of the situation. "Why?" he asked, turning his head away from her with some effort.

Arya propped herself up on her elbows, looking at him seriously. "My father took you away from that. I'm sorry," she said. It was the first time that Gendry had heard her give a sincere apology for anything. He turned to look at her again, his brow furrowed slightly. She was biting her lip and looking down at her stomach, thinking of something he was not privy to. "I…I don't know why he did, but I'm… I'm glad he did," she confessed, flushing pink.

Gendry swallowed to try to rid himself of the tightening of his throat.

"And why is that, m'lady?" he asked, watching her carefully. Her eyes darted to his face quickly to give him a glare before moving away from him. She chewed on her lips some more as she thought.

"I told you not to call me that. But…I guess it's because…I've never really had a friend before. One that wasn't one of my brothers. And now I have you," she said sheepishly. Gendry allowed himself a smirk, though he kept himself from revealing the grin that spread across his face.

"I've never really had much friends either. I don't even have siblings. At least you had them," he offered softly.

When the sky was turning pink in the horizon, Gendry sighed and got to his feet. "We should get you back to your father, m'lady. He'll be right furious with me I'm sure," he said. He offered his hand to her, though she ignored him and got to her feet on her own. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her reluctance for help of any sort.

"I suppose. But if Sansa opens her stupid mouth again, I'm going to show her just what kind of dancing I've been taking lessons in," she threatened. Gendry laughed and shook his head, placing a hand on the pommel of his sword as he walked a step behind Lady Arya Stark.

When they returned to the Tower of the Hand, it was as Gendry had thought. Septa Mordane looked more distraught than ever, Lord Stark looked like he had just been through all seven hells and back, and both Sansa Stark and Jeyne Poole were looking at Arya with disdain. Gendry did not have very fond feelings for either of the girls, especially not at that moment.

"Where in the seven hells have you been, Arya!?" Lord Stark asked cooly. He never yelled or bellowed like the King did when he was angry. The change of his tone from his usual solemn one was all that gave way to his anger and Gendry watched as Arya quailed underneath her father's anger.

"I…I'm sorry. I wanted to explore and get away. I ran into Gendry a little bit ago at the Godswood and he brought me back," she said. Everyone's eyes went to Gendry and he sighed, feeling the weight of their combined gaze crush him down to nothing. It was times like these that never failed to remind Gendry of just who and what he was. A bastard who used to apprentice to a blacksmith raised up far past his position to be the personal guard of one of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell's daughters.

Lord Stark sighed and dragged Arya into his solar with Septa Mordane, leaving Gendry alone with the other Stark daughter and her friend. They watched him for a moment, whispering to the other behind their pale and slender hands.