Chapter 53

The Godswood

Well, 'tis that time of year again. Tonight Season 6 begins and we boldly go beyond the books. Is Jon Snow dead? Well, he ain't in this story!

My excuse for the delay is my puppy. Who knew it was like having another baby? Not me. WHAT a lot of work and I've simply had no time for writing.

This is regrettably a shortie chapter, but it's got me back writing again and hopefully something is better than nothing. I wanted to post something today of all days as we once again celebrate GRRM's genius.

The Gods were being good to Gendry this day. Blossom bobbed on branches above his head, dancing with the Easter wind bearing its sharp tang of salt from Blackwater Bay. The smell of the sea reminded Gendry of home and he turned his face into the breeze, inhaling the scent as a dog might, wistfully wishing he was in Storm's End. Had the direction of the wind been reversed, the air would have been thick with shit, smoke, sweat and submission – the King's Landing stink he had been born to. It seemed a lifetime ago. 'Twas a lifetime ago.

In years past his ambition extended only to having a full belly at the end of the day, Never had he imagined he would rise so high or fly so free. 'Twas hard, standing in the Godswood awaiting his bride, not to believe the Gods must have had a hand in his fate. Watching the leaves of the Hart Tree afore him sparkle and shine as they danced, Gendry could not help but reflect on his good fortune and the chain of events that had led him here; being apprenticed to Tobho, meeting Arya and the start of their long journey together, Brienne revealing the circumstances of his birth, Jon fanning the flames of his ambition and ultimately rewarding him so magnificently for his service with the title of Lord Baratheon.

If the Gods were good, Gendry's life from this day forth would include no more than Arya and the children they would make together, Storm's End, his House and his people. If the Gods were good he would never again wield his hammer in anger. Gendry wanted, nae he needed, to create rather than destroy. He could not wait to put the war and King's Landing behind him. One more day, two at most and he could leave here and never look back. Soon, but not yet. First he had to prove to Westeros that Arya Stark was his.

Gendry glowed with pride when he thought of his babe growing in her belly and the promises they had made to each other. That should be enough, 'twas enough for him, but he was Lord Baratheon and Arya was a Lady, whether she liked it or not. A marriage between two of the greatest Houses of Westeros was never only about a man and a woman. Ravens would carry the news far and wide and by tomorrow all of Westeros would know Arya Stark was his.

His dream had come true – a dream he would never have dared to dream as a bastard boy in Flea Bottom. With a satisfied smile, Gendry turned his face away from the salty breeze and his thoughts back to the present.

The transformation wrought to the Godswood since Gendry had last been in King's Landing was remarkable. For years it had been overgrown, sombre and forlorn, neglected by a succession of Kings who had courted the Seven while turning their backs on the Old Gods and their ways. Jon Targaryen's ascent to the Iron Throne had changed all that. While Jon might be the reason for the change, 'twas Willas Tyrell and the gardeners he brought with him from Highgarden who deserved the credit for it.

The fallen branches and matted smokeberry vines that had choked the floor of the Godswood were gone and in their stead grew a carpet of fresh green grass, dotted with delicate wildflowers basking in the sunlight denied them for so long. Birds sang and delicate pink and white blossom stirred softly in the breeze. 'Twas an oasis of calm and natural beauty amidst the stinking cess pit of King's Landing. Gendry thought mayhaps he should ask Willas if some of his gardeners might be willing to come to Storm's End. Bran's wedding gift of a new Heart Tree for the Godswood there was bothering Gendry. While he was humbled by such a gift, he was also terrified by the responsibility of it. Would a new tree grow on the scorched earth where the ancient Heart Tree had been burnt to the ground? Gendry had no idea and the thought that he might inadvertently kill House Stark's gift brought an unfamiliar tightness to his chest. He made a mental note to speak to Willas about taking some of Highgarden's experts to Storm's End. Gendry suspected the Tyrells would be willing. The Gods knew they were always scheming and would expect something in return, but then again, mayhaps not. After all, they were already getting Sansa Stark.

Gendry turned his attention to Willas, looking as smug as the cat that got the cream, no doubt because Sansa would be standing beside him in a few moments time. Now wasn't that a strange turn of events? Gendry suspected, nae he knew, there had to be more to Sansa's sudden wish to visit Highgarden than Aegon had disclosed.

In the forge Aegon had sought Gendry's approval for Sansa's visit. Aegon had claimed that Jon, as her brother, should have been asked to give his consent, but as Jon wasn't here, Gendry, as her good-brother and the next-best-thing must. However, something did not seem quite right to Gendry about the whole thing. Surely it should have been Willas seeking his consent, not Aegon? And what of Bran, should he not have been consulted? After all he was head of House Stark.

Aegon had rather impatiently explained the politics of it all to Gendry who hated having his lack of knowledge of such things pointed out to him - particularly by Aegon fucking Targaryen. According to fucking Aegon, Sansa had asked him to intervene. She wanted to avoid putting Bran in an awkward position – after all, Sansa was his older sister and there were still some troublemakers amongst the Northern Lords. Bran was in the process of rebuilding and Winterfell was not yet the bastion of Northern Power it had once been, its hold on the North still tenuous. Sansa was apparently anxious to avoid any potentially damaging claims that the older sister had a stronger right to House Stark than a crippled younger brother. After all, Aegon pointed out, wasn't that the basis of the Bolton's claim to the North during the war? Gendry had found himself agreeing that Sansa might be right to stay away from Winterfell for that reason alone.

But Aegon had gone on to point out "the Meera problem." Gendry had to ask, "What problem?" Aegon, sighing heavily had proceeded to spell out to Gendry why no new wife wanted a highborn lady from her husband's House under her feet. That conversation had made Gendry feel very uncomfortable. By demanding Shireen come back to Storm's End was he not putting Shireen in the same situation that Sansa was so keen to avoid? Mayhaps that was why Shireen, being so much cleverer at this sort of thing than Gendry, had wanted to leave Storm's End in the first place? And now Gendry was forcing her back. His conversation with Aegon had started Gendry thinking that mayhaps it would be better for Shireen and Arya if he could find somewhere safe where Shireen might find a good husband, providing 'twas far enough away from Aegon that the fucking Targaryen would be no further threat to her reputation. Gendry needed to ask Arya what she thought first afore broaching the delicate subject with Shireen.

So he had two awkward conversations ahead of him on his wedding day – one with Willas and one with Shireen. That thought wiped the earlier smile from his face.

Looking around him, Gendry contemplated how much more complicated his life was now than afore, when his only ambition had been finding enough food to fill his belly. Unfortunately Willas and Shireen were not his only problems. Brienne to his right, gleaming in the sun in a full suit of showy, tourney armour was drawing murderous glances across the glade to a battered but unbowed Hound, now Lord Clegane, who stood menacingly to Aegon's right.

That King and Lord looked none too pleased by Willas Tyrell's loud crowing about how he was leaving for Highgarden on the morrow, accompanied by Lady Sansa Stark. 'Twas clear Sansa intended to take her place beside Willas once she arrived, for the empty seat beside Willas was draped with a white silk banner bearing the grey Direwolf of House Stark. Behind that stood Sansa's Winter Guard, several of them sporting signs of a recent battle which were suspiciously similar to the Hound's. Rolly Duckfield looked to have borne the brunt of it, with one purple and black eye swollen shut and a bandaged sword hand. It did not take a Maester to work out that the Winter Guard and the Hound had clashed and 'twas most likely over Sansa's decision to go to Highgarden.

No doubt Aegon had a meddling hand in there somewhere. If only Jon were here to sort this out. Then Gendry had the uncomfortable thought that mayhaps Jon would expect him to intervene. There was nothing more important to Jon than maintaining peace amongst the great Houses of Westeros. Jon maintained the only way to avoid another civil war was to prevent conflict between the Lords of Westeros. Thinking on Jon's expectations made Gendry feel decidedly uncomfortable. Involving himself in whatever was going on between Aegon, Willas and Sansa, would mean staying in King's Landing and Gendry could think of nothing worse.

'Twas far too easy to become caught up in the Red Keep's politics and before he knew it, Arya would be too far gone to undertake the journey back to Storm's End. The thought of his babe being born in the Red Keep sent icy shivers down Gendry's spine. Nae, unless the seven hells were freezing over, he was leaving for Storm's End as soon as his men were sober enough to ride.

Out of all the assembled Lords, only Tyrion Lannister and Sam seemed oblivious to the underlying tension in the Godswood. They were laughing and celebrating with all the Sers and other worthies who surrounded them, irrespective of their House or allegiance. Those two seemed to thrive on the politics and intrigue that Gendry so despised. Seeing them gave Gendry a flash of inspiration. He would pass his concerns on to Tyrion and Sam, who would no doubt deal with anything that arose better than Gendry could, for Sam and Tyrion would not resort to their fists or a war hammer. That would leave Gendry free to bugger off to the Storm Lands with a clear conscience. Having decided that was a good idea, Gendry felt lighter already and Rolly trading snarls with the Hound did not bother him half as much as it had afore.

Aegon, Willas and all the rest were immediately forgotten as a fanfare of trumpets proclaimed his bride's arrival. Gendry's heart pumped with anxious expectation as he immediately turned toward the source of the noise but even he, tall as he was, could not see her through the branches and over the mass of people crammed into the Godswood.

'Twas no use. Although an isle of grass had been strewn with blue rose petals and kept clear for the bride's approach, it wound its way through the trees, making a clear view impossible. The throng was packed so tight he would not be able to see Arya until she was almost upon him. He would just need to be patient for a while longer.

Frustrated and turning back towards the Heart Tree, Gendry's eye caught Anguy's. The archer had been entrusted, not only with the care of Arya's wedding gift, but also with the care of Tobho and his wife. Mrs Mott clutched Gendry's Baratheon cloak to her chest as she stood on her tip toes, straining for a glimpse of the bride along with the rest of the crowd. 'Twas the cloak Gendry would drape over Arya's shoulders shortly and he had given it to Tobho's wife in an attempt to occupy her thoughts with something other than Tobho's imminent passing.

The old master craftsman looked tiny huddled under a pile of blankets on the raised pallet Gendry had ordered erected especially for him. Tobho would have the best view in the Godswood of the ceremony, but although open, Gendry wondered if the old man's eyes could see. Although Gendry had nodded and smiled towards him, Tobho was oblivious, preoccupied with something above him, staring intently up as if he saw something in the Heart Tree's leaves that no one else could.

Gendry had no time to ponder this further as another blast of the trumpets, much closer this time, told him his bride and her entourage were about to arrive . . .

Apologies again for the lack of length and Leon – I hope you weren't too disappointed. The red dress (and Ty) appear next chapter!

I hope you all enjoy the HBO show and I'll be back with a MUCH longer chapter soon . . .