A/N: Ok I know Gendry's not a Baratheon brother as such, but he's a Baratheon and he does have siblings so… This is the epilogue: gratuitous Gendrya, fluff and a happy ending.
Two nights later, they were lying in his bed, just talking, and Gendry was on his favourite topic: complaining about his father and uncles.
'And why does Renly insist on spending so much money on me when there are starving people just down in Flea Bottom?' he groaned, Arya lying with her head in his lap as he fiddled with her hair.
'He's trying to be kind,' she consoled him, groaning inwardly. She couldn't understand why Gendry couldn't just take his family's compliments and be pleased. Maybe it was because her family had always been so close.
'And my father insists on telling me all about his whorehouse adventures,' he sighed, 'As if I want to hear about his sordid affairs.'
Arya rolled over, looking up at him.
'You don't sound like you anymore,' she said, so quietly that he was sure he had misheard her. But then he felt guilty. It was true. He was a different person now: courtly life had changed him, and he felt more and more like a spoilt lordling every day, and he remembered the good old days when she had been dressed as a boy and he had been a bastard blacksmith in rags. He wondered what their old selves would think of him now. It probably wouldn't be very kind.
'Oh, Arya,' he replied, stroking her cheek with light fingers, 'I'm sorry.'
'It's not your fault,' she murmured, looking deep into his eyes. They were the one part of him that was still the same, still blue as the ocean and honest as day.
'Things change,' he said softly, 'I've changed and so have you, but one thing hasn't: I love you.'
'You're stupid,' she laughed, and he grinned.
She smiled, glad to have spotted the old Gendry behind the facade of the prince. She dived up to his lips and kissed him solidly. He placed a hand on her back and held her close to him, supporting all of her weight in his arms as she pulled up to meet him. They rolled over and she lay on top of him, her legs curled between his knees. She hurriedly undid his buttons and he wriggled out of his shirt as she pressed kisses to his chest.
'What's this- oh, Gendry, you're covered in bruises!' she exclaimed and he sighed.
'I'd rather not talk about training with Stannis right now,' he said softly.
'This is nothing,' she said, smiling, planting her chin on his chest, 'Tomorrow I'll fight you, and then you'll be bruised.'
He couldn't help but laugh, and kiss her again, and his mind flicked back to that afternoon when he had gone to his father and Ned Stark, and asked very carefully if he could have their permission to marry Arya Stark.
Maybe life as a Baratheon wouldn't be so bad after all.