Davos
It felt good to see the mighty castle that was Storm's End once again. The great fortress built into the cliffs against the sea hadn't changed save for the absence of any Baratheon banners. The tower in the center of Storm's End touch the clouds of the aftermath of a light rain. The Snows of winter did not yet arrive, but the cold winds did. The caravan was only a few miles away and already a group of riders from the castle were approaching them from the castle.
Davos and Beric rode at the head of their entourage followed by the Lady Brienne and the Hound. Gendry had fallen back to ride next to the carriage that Lady Arya rode in. She could've traveled by horse if her wound had healed quicker, but she was confined to a luxurious ride much to her dismay. The window to the carriage was open and they were in the middle of a conversation as the riders got closer. "Gendry!" Davos called. Gendry looked over to him and realized what was going on. He spurred his horse forward towards the others and slowed down when he caught up.
As the riders from the castle reached them, the caravan came to a halt, except for Davos, Brienne, Beric, and Gendry who all rode next to each other along with two men following behind, carrying the Stark banner and the new Baratheon banner. One of them rode forward, a elderly man dressed in plate armor and wearing a surcoat with the sigil of a green shark in a black ocean beneath a blue sky. "My lords, I recognize some of you, but not all. I am Ser Jasper Willem, the appointed castellan of Storm's End. I'm surprised you came back, Dondarrion, after renouncing your lordship and claims."
"I was needed elsewhere," Beric responded, "and if you're worried I've come to take back what I gave up, that is not my purpose."
"Then what is?"
Beric looked over to Gendry and Ser Jasper's gaze followed. "This Gendry," Davos announced, "last surviving bastard of Robert of the House Baratheon, naturalized by Queen Daenerys Targaryen, rightful Lord of Storm's End and the Stormlands."
The men who followed Ser Jasper looked at each other in surprise as he rode closer to Gendry and inspected him before turning his attention to Davos. "You're loyal to the Targaryens now, Seaworth? The House that Robert waged an entire Rebellion over?"
"I am. I hope you received the one of the ravens we sent out about the truth of the Rebellion?"
"We did. It was hard to believe, but we believed it none the less. But why are you following them? Why are you following the Mad King's offspring?"
"You know the saying, 'every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin and it lands on either madness or greatness.' With all that's happened, it's safe to assume they landed on greatness and after seeing what's coming for all of us from beyond the Wall, we need everything we can get."
Ser Jasper turned his gaze back to Gendry. "I've lived in this castle my whole life and I only ever saw Robert a few times after his rebellion. I must say, you do look him." Ser Jasper turned to Ser Davos. "Are there any others to support his claim?"
"I do," Brienne said, "I am Brienne of House Tarth, Lady of Tarth and the Evenfall Hall."
Ser Jasper bowed his head to her. "My condolences to your father, my lady."
"Thank you, Ser."
"I support him as well." Davos informed. "I think we know each other enough to skip the introduction, Jasper."
The knight smiled at him before returning his gaze to Gendry. "Tell me, are you good with a sword?"
"Not at all," Gendry informed, "I prefer a hammer."
Ser Jasper kept his smile and slowly nodded at Gendry. "Just like Robert. Welcome home, Lord Baratheon."
The inside of Storm's End wasn't like any other castle. The entire keep was built for one thing when it was first raised, and that was war. Even with the years that passed since it's birth, the castle remained as it was. No lord would dare be foolish enough to remove any of the castle weapons. The walls had many catapults built into them facing the land and the sea.
Davos, Beric, Brienne, the Hound, and Gendry were brought to the War Room while Arya was sent to be treated by a maester. The War Room was very large and spacious and located in center tower. The Room was surrounded with wooden benches with the backings up against the walls and in the middle of the room, carved into the floor was a great map of Westeros. The stone dipped and rose from the floor copying the elevations of the country.
Ser Jasper took a seat in one of the benches after telling a servant to fetch drinks for them all. "So, my lord Gendry, what are your intentions?"
Davos was ready to speak for him, but Gendry stopped him. "It's okay," he told him, "I can do this." Gendry walked over to the Crownlands and loomed over King's Landing. "I was told the numbers of the Stormland's army were four thousand."
"That is correct."
"We need them ready to venture to the North immediately after the meeting with Cersei Lannister."
"I had a question about that, my lord." Jasper stood up from his seat and walked over to Gendry. "What is it exactly that's coming from the North?"
Gendry looked at him for a moment, not saying anything to him. But it looked more like he didn't know what to say. 'An army of dead men' was the truth, but they weren't in the North anymore so it wouldn't be as believable as it was tp others.
"Why don't you accompany us to King's Landing and see for yourself."
"My lord, you honor me with such an invitation."
Gendry looked back to the map, but now his gaze was on the Stormlands. "Which Houses are the major of the Stormlands?"
"House Baratheon now, Houses Tarth, Dondarrion, Swann, and Wylde."
"I need one lord or lady from two of those houses to accompany me to the meeting, any you 'd recommend?"
"My lord," Brienne interjected, "forgive me for my assumption, but I was under the impression that Lord Beric and I would be representing the Stormlands with you."
"You don't need to ask for forgiveness. The two of you were my first choices, but then I realized that you've already seen what's coming and you've fought them. I need people who haven't seen what you have so they can realize the truth of what's really at stake."
"Makes sense," Beric said, "Lady Brienne and I can help organize the armies for the journey north while you worry about the meeting with Cersei."
"Sounds good," Gendry said, "so, Ser jasper, who do you recommend?"
"If the Lady of Tarth won't be able to, then I would suggest Lady Ramona of House Dondarrion and Lord Kurtis of House Wylde since their troops make up the most of our forces."
"Then let's get a raven sent to each of them. Invite them here first and we'll travel to King's Landing together and meet with the others. While that's all taking place, send a raven to the Iron Islands with a request to ferry our soldiers to White Harbor."
"At once, my lord." Ser Jasper said before two servants entered the room. One of them brought water glasses for everyone, but the other went directly to Ser Jasper and whispered something to him. "Oh, thank you. I can't believe I completely forgot."
"Is there a problem?" Davos asked.
"Not at all. However, there is a gathering of the castle's residents in the main courtyard. They're hoping to see their new Lord."
"How many are there?" Davos asked.
"Just over four hundred people."
Gendry turned pale when he heard that. He never was one to desire being the center of attention. "It's alright lad," Davos said as he walked up to Gendry and patted him on the back, "they just want to see you and hear a few words."
"Couldn't I just be silent?"
"Be pretty awkward if you did."
Gendry thought about and nodded his head as he took one of the glasses of water from the servant and gulped it down.
As the came outside, Gendry stood at a stone railing in the middle of two staircases that both led to the courtyard grounds and beheld a great massing of common folk. Davos stood close to him in hopes it would be comforting, but he could notice Gendry's hands were starting to shake. The silence started to drag on before Davos nudged Gendry's foot with his own.
Clearing his throat first, Gendry stood up straight and raised his voice. "My name is Gendry Baratheon, last surviving bastard of King Robert Baratheon." This caused much muttering amongst the people, but Gendry pressed on. "I was naturalized by the Queen Daenerys Targaryen, who I have pledged my loyalty to. I understand that there will be much discontent among many of you. My father waged a rebellion against her family after all."
Davos was getting the feeling that he would have to step in soon, Gendry was backing himself into a corner.
"But such things don't matter now. Winter is coming and the storm that follows is one we won't live through if we continue things the way we are. We can't afford to let the quarrels of the past get in the way of our survival and our future. I promise you all now, I will do everything in my power to make sure that get have such a future." Gendry stepped away from the railing and began walking back into the castle, Davos following closely.
"Could've been better," Davos commented, "but not bad."
"Do you where Arya was taken?"
"Follow me." Davos didn't blame him for desiring her company. She was the only one he could talk to as a friend and not an advisor. Though there were times he and Gendry would have moments like that, but that's all they were.
Davos waited outside of the room Arya was given while she and Gendry conversed. The door was left open and he occasionally snuck a glance and listened to their voices. At one point he noticed Gendry holding Arya right hand in both of his, moving his fingers over her skin and inspecting every detail of her fingers.
It wasn't until he saw them start to lean their heads close together that he took a step back from the doorway and gave them some better privacy. A few minutes later Gendry came out of the room and closed the door behind him. "How much time do we have before we leave for King's Landing?" Gendry asked.
"The ravens were sent. If all goes well, maybe five days."
"More than enough time." Gendry patted Davos on the shoulder and wore a smirk he couldn't be rid of as they walked throughout the hallways. "Is there anything that needs my attention today?"
"At the moment, no."
"Good, then I need to find a forge."
Arya
The next couple of days were steady as Gendry was able to make time for all of matters that required his attention and at the end of each day he would spend the rest of his time at the anvil. The Forge he was given pleased him greatly as it was twice the size of what he had in Winterfell and his tools were of the highest quality. He didn't let anyone in to watch him though, he said he had a project he couldn't let anyone see until it was finished. Many people were bustling from one place to another. Gendry warned them all of what was coming and now he needed them prepared. The air was filled with the sounds of hammers striking hot steel, constant chatter among farmers delivering grain, and the clashing of wooden training swords belonging to young lads wanting to become soldiers.
On the third day of the arrival, Davos was welcoming Lord Wylde and Lady Dondarrion into the keep. After they met with Gendry and Beric, Davos brought them into the War Room organizing the movement of the Stormlands' forces to the North. They hadn't received word from the Greyjoys yet so they had to resort to either marching or gathering what ships they had to ferry the soldiers. But before they could even go through with anything, they had to wait for many of the lords who had men to provide swear fealty to their new lord. He was in the War Room with Ser Jasper, standing next to the Stormlands.
Arya was finally allowed to out and about to her own business, but she was still not aloud to practice yet, but her wound was nearly healed, so it would only be a few more days. She was in Great Hall sitting at a table across from Sandor, Brienne, and Podrick. She never spoke to the Hound much, even when they first saw each other at Riverrun, they just acknowledge that the other was alive. This actually bothered Arya, but she tried not to show it.
Arya was given a serving of salted sea bass and Brienne had the same, but Sandor stuck with eating a chicken. He tore through the meat of a wing while Arya struggled to just cut a small piece for herself. The fish nearly slid off the plate and Arya was starting to become frustrated. "Here," Sandor stole her plate and knife and cut her fish for her, "should've gotten the chicken. You can just use your hands the whole time." He slid her plate back to her with her fish cut up and resumed to eat his food. "Where'd you go after you left me rotting in the Vale?"
"Braavos. I learned how to become a Faceless Man."
Sandor snorted at her. "And yet you still got stabbed in the arm?"
"I wouldn't aggravate her if were you." Brienne told him. "She can fight just as well with both hands."
"Doesn't matter," the Hound spat back, "she still took a knifer in the arm." Arya didn't allow herself to get angry with him. He was right and it was her arrogance that caused her to make such a mistake. "So tell me, girl, are you still dancing, or are you fighting?"
Arya looked up from her plate at him. "Both." Though she was glad they were finally talking, she wanted to change the subject. "I heard you joined the Brotherhood without Banners."
"I didn't join those cunts, I only traveled with them. Wound up spending a month at Eastwatch in a cell until your King brother freed us."
"You went with Jon beyond the Wall?"
"Didn't know why we were going, I just wanted out of the cell. The men of the Watch are nothing but foreigners from Essos and cunts from the Seven Kingdoms who hate Wildlings."
"Is there anyone you don't think is a cunt?" Brienne asked.
"Nope."
Arya smiled as he bit into his chicken, hardly giving attention to anyone else. It made her feel like she was home.
The Valyrian Dagger was kept at Arya's side whenever she wasn't inside the castle, the remnants of Needle rested on her nightstand in her room. Regardless of being unable to train, the winter days felt longer than they did in summer. Arya was alone on the top of the tower of Storm's End, looking out to the North and reaching her hand up to touch the low storm clouds that came close to her.
"Of all places to be, you had to choose somewhere up the most fucking stairs in the world." Arya turned around and saw Sandor resting his hands on his knees, exhausted.
"You're getting old, Clegane." Arya told him.
"Last time someone said that to me, I killed the closest person next to me."
"What do you want?"
Sandor caught his breath and walked over to her. "I was bored and wanted to see if you're still as shit a fighter as you are a dancer."
"Brienne said I shouldn't fight until I'm healed."
"Fuck what she says. Do you think if you lose an arm on the battlefield, you wait for it to heal?" Sandor drew his sword and pointed the tip onto the stone floor. "I heard how you lost the hand. You have speed, but you lack strength. If you could've used that fingerless soldier's sword, you would've made it in one piece. He drew a smaller sword st his side and handed it to Arya. "Now show me what you've got."
Arya held the sword in her hand and felt the weight and shape of it. It was no Braavosi blade, but it would do. She held it behind her back and waited for Sandor to make the first move. In an instant, he raised his sword and swung it across at Arya. She ducked under it easily and slapped her sword on Sandor's swordhand before attempting to bring the tip near his neck. His sword moved quickly and parried it away. Arya retreated a few steps backs to create distance between her and Sandor's reach. He rushed forward at her, but instead of waiting for him to come, she advanced and let her knees fall to the ground and slid forward, dodging the swing that would've sliced at her. Using the pommel, Arya slammed her sword on the back of Sandor's knee, causing him to buckle. Before he could recover, Arya spun around and charged at his back, shoving him forward and onto the ground. As he rolled over , Arya dropped the sword and drew her dagger, jumping on top of Sandor's chest and held the blade to his neck. "Yield." She ordered.
Sandor mockingly smiled at her. "I told you, you have speed," he quickly grabbed the blade and with little effort, pulled it from her hand and tossed it to the side, "but you lack strength." He lurched forward and cupped his hands underneath Arya's shoulders and lifted her off the ground. "Fucking hells, couldn't you have grown even a little in the time we've been apart?"
"Shut your hole and let me down."
He set her to her feet and retrieved his sword while she retrieved hers. Sandor picked up the dagger and inspected it. "Valyrian steel. If I had a greatsword made of this, I'd finally be able to cut off my brother's empty head." He offered the dagger to her and she accepted it after she returned her sword. "You name that thing as well?"
"No, it wasn't mine at first. I don't know if it had a name before though."
"Keep it that way. You're already a girl with a broken named weapon, you don't need another, but you will need something bigger against the dead." Arya chuckled at him and the dagger was returned into its scabbard. "Did you learn all that in Braavos?"
"It's a long story, but you could say learning was a punishment for killing someone I wasn't supposed to."
"And who was that?"
"Meryn Trant."
Sandor burst into heavy laughter after she said who. "You killed Meryn fucking Trant? Oh, I always knew he could be bested by any little girl with a sword, but he had to actually do it."
"I didn't use a sword, I had a knife."
Sandor burst into laughter once again and Arya couldn't help but laugh with him a bit. "Kill anyone else on your list?" He asked as he calmed down.
"Walder Frey."
"That was you?" Sandor looked at her before staring out into the distance. "Now it makes sense. I heard Walder poisoned his whole family before turning into a young girl." He looked back at her impressed, for the first time Arya ever saw him. "You wear people's faces?"
"I don't, no one does."
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"To wear a face, I have to be no one. If the faces are worn by someone, they're poison."
"Still doesn't make any fucking sense."
"If I put on a face you didn't know I did, and then I walked right passed you, who would I be?"
"Nobody I'd care about to ask. But what if I know it's you?"
"Then I'm someone wearing another person's face. That's what I can't let happen again."
"What happens if you do?"
"I went blind for a while the first time I did it. I'm not sure if that happens every time, but there is always a punishment."
Sandor just shook his head. "Enough talk, I need some ale."
"I'll join you."
On the day of the departure, ten Greyjoy ships arrived at first light with Theon, Yara, and two other of the Ironborn lords. Arya wasn't pleased to see Theon at all, in fact if he hadn't rescued Sansa, he'd be on her list.
She was nearly done packing her things before there was a knock on the door. "Yes?" She called out.
"It's Gendry." He answered.
"Come in." The door opened and Gendry stepped inside, both of his hands were behind his back. Hanging on his belt was a new Warhammer he forged. It was similar to his first one, but this one was meant to be used by one hand and was only his arm's length.
"I heard your arm's finally healed."
"It did," Arya replied as she revealed her left arm. It was unbandaged and revealed a terrible scar still in a light shade of pink.
"I made you something, if you'd want it." Gendry pulled his hands out from behind his back and Arya beheld a Water Dancer sword. The length was a few inches longer than Needle was, but she had grown since she first laid hands on her sword, so this one was just the right size. The hilt was similar to Needle, except the pommel had a howling dire wolf etched into it. "I thought you could use a gift for your recovery."
Arya took it in her hands and inspected the blade. Fresh forged steel always had a glimmer to it. "It's beautiful, Gendry. Thank you."
"I thought about giving it a name, but then I realized that should left to you."
Arya thought about what Sandor said and decided that he could fuck a goat, she wanted a name for her sword. But thinking of one that had meaning at the moment was a challenge. "I'll name it after I spill blood with it."
