Part 19: Gendry

Gendry glanced up as the man entered the forge then quickly lowered his gaze, it had only taken a glance to see that no good would come of this. It only took a glance to identify the man as Lord Eddard Stark, Lord Paramount of the North and Hand of the King. The high Lord had dressed in a way that left no doubt in the matter: a white doublet, of impeccable quality with a large grey direwolf carefully stitched on the front. Heavy wolfskins on his shoulders and back, despite the warmth of the Kings Landing climate. The Golden hand of the King emblem proudly pinned to his chest. The Valyrian greatsword (and a giant of a greatsword at that) on his back… all of these clues were helpful, but even without them it might not have been hard to guess. Everything about the man screamed "Northerner" from the wide shoulders to the stocky frame (muscle, not fat), to the long face and the hard grey eyes. Lord Stark was taller than average, his jaw set in a hard expression. This was a man of cold summers and hard winters. If any man were a pure-born descendant of the First Men, this was him. The most northern of north men, or at least the most northern that Gendry had ever seen.

Some said that the First Men were carved of clay and stone, that they were as hard and cold as the land from which they came, Gendry had even heard whispers that the old Kings of Winter had once breed with the others. In that once glimpse Gendry had seen all of that and more, oh, he didn't believe the part about them breeding with the others, but this man walked with the strength of the Warrior and the authority of the Father. A shiver ran down Gendry's spine despite the heat of the forge. Lord Eddard Stark, he was here to ask questions, he had to be. The last Lord Paramount that had come here, Lord Jon Arryn, the most Andal of Andal's had been here to ask questions… and no good had come of that. Gendry attempted to focus on his work, pretended not to listen as Lord Stark spoke with Tobho Mott, but there was no escape. One hammer strike, two, three, four…

"…He's big for his age, and strong…" Tobho Mott stated proudly as the Hand and he approached Gendry, it was exactly the same thing he had said to Lord Jon Arryn only a couple of moons before. At the time Gendry had been quietly elated to hear the pride in his master's voice, but now the words only caused the knot in the pit of Gendry's stomach to grow. Lord Arryn had come and taken an interest in him, lapped up Mott's proud words and asked Gendry questions. Treated Gendry like he was somebody special, somebody important, and Gendry had let the interactions intoxicate him like wine. Lord Arryn had died a fortnight later, and Gendry's hope had died with the man.

Gendry was just a bastard, and he needed to remember his place. No good ever came of questions, especially questions about his mother, the Septa's had taught him that, beaten those questions right out of him. He shouldn't have let flattery from some High Lord make him forget those lessons, pride was a sin. His mother was a sinful wonton woman, as proven by his very existence. He was a bastard, an insult to the Father, a living embodiment of sin. The Septa's said his mother's death had been the Seven's punishment for her wonton ways. Gendry prayed to the Father that this High Lord would go away and leave him be, but the Father did not listen. The footsteps stopped in front of him, yet Gendry kept his head down and focused on his work.

"Stubborn though." Tobho muttered.

Gendry repressed a sigh and carefully put his work down, he looked up at Tobho Mott, refusing to even glance at Lord Stark. "You need something of me, Master Mott?"

Tobho sent him a glare that said 'don't embarrass me lad' and held his gaze, an action which forced the Qohorik smith to tilt his head upwards as Gendry was already over a head taller than him. "Gendry, show the Hand the helm you made." Tobho commanded.

Gendry didn't repress the sigh this time, there was no escaping now. He didn't want to show the Hand his helm, didn't want to leave the forge, didn't want to talk to the man… but he was low born, an orphan and a bastard, he had no choice. Reluctantly he collected the helm he had made, slowly he walked around the forge, he handed the helm over with as much defiance as he dared. Lord Stark complemented the work and he tensed, it was good for an apprentice, but he knew it was only journeyman work, the inside was unfinished. "It's not for sale." He stated. It was incomplete, he wasn't selling something that was incomplete, besides, he'd made it for himself.

A look of fear crossed Tobho Mott's face and the master blacksmith scolded him for his words, yet the Lord Paramount stated that there was nothing to apologise for, and handed the helm back to him. And then the questions came. Questions about why Lord Arryn had visited him, and what Lord Arryn had asked of him. Did he enjoy his work, was he getting enough to eat? … Was the man a fool? No, he was always hungry, any money that he was given always went on another bowl of the brown. One only had to look at him to see he needed more food than most, but what could he say with Master Mott standing there? Then the dreaded questions came…

"And who was your mother?" Lord Stark asked, grey eyes looking at him as if they could see a lie.

'Who was my mother? Only the most beautiful woman in the world… the only person that ever loved me, and now she's dead and I don't know why, but the more Septa's that say she got what she deserved, the more High Lords that come asking questions, the more I suspect she was murdered.' He thought bitterly, yet all he said was "Just my mum."

More questions came, and he gave the shortest, most obstinate, answers that he possibly could, all the time he was mentally screaming 'Leave me alone, just leave me alone.' … when the Lord stepped closer and grabbed his chin, looking him in the eye, he almost said it… almost. Then Lord Stark was dropping his chin and taking a step back, nodding to himself as if he had solved a great mystery. 'You know,' Gendry thought angrily. 'You know who my father is, and you're not going to tell me, he's still alive, isn't he?' But the words wouldn't pass his lips, and by the time he regained his composure the man was gone, Tobho as well, and they were still talking about him.

Gendry stood in the middle of the workshop, the Bull's Head Helm in his hands, and felt totally lost, something wet dropped onto the helm and he suddenly realised that he was crying, he angrily wiped away the tears, smudging more soot across his already dirty face, and put the helm down, returning to the forge and his work. He didn't look up when Tobho finally returned. He could feel the man watching him but he tried to ignore him.

Finally Tobho cleared his throat. "Is there something you want to say, lad?"

Gendry slowly put the hammer down and looked up at him. "Honestly?" Tobho nodded. "I'm not getting enough to eat." Gendry said quietly. He stood tense, waiting for the repercussions of his words.

Tobho looked at him carefully and frowned. "Why didn't you say something, son?"

Gendry shook his head. "I'm not your son, am I? I'm just an apprentice… and… I'm grateful for all you give me… I have no right to ask for more."

"How long?" Tobho asked.

Gendry shrugged. "I can't remember the last time I wasn't hungry."

Tobho nodded. "I'll do something about that, forgive me lad. Put that aside, let's get you some food."

Gendry shook his head. "No, I want to finish this, if I stop now it won't be as good… It's just gotten to the right heat to work it."

Tobho nodded. "Alright, but tonight you sup with me."

"You don't have too…" Gendry began to protest but Tobho shook his head.

"Don't argue with me, lad, the better you eat, the better you work… I gain nothing by underfeeding you."

Gendry appreciated the gesture, but every apprentice knew how easily they could be dismissed. "And if I start eating more than I'm worth?" He asked cautiously.

Tobho shook his head and smiled. "You're worth quite a lot, lad, more than you know."

~~/~~

Lord Stark's visits continued, Gendry would have thought that with all of his other responsibilities the Hand of the King would be too busy to worry about some bastard, but apparently he wasn't… then the summons came, Gendry and Tobho Mott were to appear in court. It was mid-morning when the guards arrived, and they were hardly given enough time to dampen the fires. Gendry felt suddenly aware of how dirty he was, he wiped the soot off of his face and hands as best he could with an old rag, but it did little good. He started to follow the guard, then paused, on impulse he grabbed his Bulls Head Helm.

Neither Tobho Mott nor Gendry said a word as they were taken to the Keep and led into the Throne Room. Gendry could feel a growing knot of panic building up in his stomach, nothing good would come of this. The court was full of men, noble looking women were on the balcony, including a dark skinned woman whom could only be Lady Yaya, and her children. Gendry looked around the floor, there were knights and guards everywhere. Near the throne, on the right, stood three women and a girl dressed as soldiers, and… seven have mercy… were they direwolves?!

The two animals were almost as large as the girl they stood either side of, the darker one was larger than the silvery one, it's eyes a dark amber. But even the smaller one stood at the girl's shoulder, it's yellow eyes scanning the room for threats. The girl herself was slight, the wolf skins on her shoulders seeming to envelop her. She wasn't dressed as a lady, she was dressed as a solder, in iron studded leather armour. She also bore weapons! Few men were permitted to bare weapons in court, yet this girl, this Stark girl, for surely she had to be a Stark, bore bow, sword, and whip! The bow and sword were both impressive weapons, expensive weapons, but also high quality. (Gendry understood that the two did not always go hand in hand, many was the customer with a pretty penny and no concept of how a true weapon should be shaped.)

The bow on the Stark girl's back had to be dragon bone, Tobho Mott had a piece that he had shown Gendry a few times… and the sword on her hip… was the handle Weirwood?! The guard was worked with blue moonstone, carved like roses… blue roses only grew at Winterfell, everybody knew that, he'd love to see the blade itself, but that was a daydream. No lowborn bastard was ever going to get a good look at a weapon like that unless they were on the receiving end.

Gendry suddenly became aware that his gaze had lingered on the girl for far too long to be good for his health, he shifted his attention to the three women behind her, they were armed as well. All three women bore simple iron swords, they were nothing fancy, but a weapon did not need to be fancy to be well made. All three bore whips as well, strange, Gendry would not have considered a whip a common weapon, but then what did he know of the North? His attention was caught by the tallest of them, a broad shouldered, yet beautiful, woman with the same blue eyes and black hair as his own. She bore a bow identical to the Stark girl's bow, black dragon bone, a priceless weapon. Despite the warmth she wore a fur lined cape. The cape had a wide band of white at the top with three Stark direwolves running across it, a sign that she deferred to House Stark. Below was a golden crowned stag on a field of black, the Baratheon sigil reversed.

"That's Mya Stone." Tobho whispered beside him, the suddenness of his Master's quiet words almost causing him to jump. "And the stout one beside her, with the bear skin, is Lady Jorelle Mormont, although 'Lady' might be a bit of a strech. The one with the white sunburst on black is Lady Alys Karstark. They are Lady Arya Stark's hand maidens."

Gendry swallowed thickly. "They look more like her guards."

Tobho nodded. "They are both." He agreed.

Gendry nodded and gripped his bull's head helm more tightly, Seven have mercy, if only he'd had the opportunity to bathe! Horns sounded and the doors were thrown wide, guards entered, then the King, then his youngest brother, Lord Renly, more guards, then Lord Stark and a number of other men, one of them was an Arch Maester, another was rather overweight with a shaved head and a heavy gown that fell to the ground.

Court dragged on for a couple of hours, leaving Gendry perplexed as to why he had been summoned. Tyrion Lannister was brought forward, the events at Winterfell were discussed and he was questioned if he had been aware of his sibling's treason. The dwarf gave very cleaver indirect answers and claimed that he had known nothing for sure. He asked after the safety of his niece and nephew. Gendry found it strange that it was Lord Stark whom confidently assured him they were safe, not the King. Surely the King should care? Until recently he had believed they were his children.

Mya Stone was brought forward, as proof of what the King's offspring should look like, she was legitimised, and King Robert announced that she was to be wed to Lord Robb Stark. Her cape was removed and a Baratheon cloak placed on her shoulders in its place. It was the King's youngest brother, Renly Baratheon, that placed the cloak, not the King himself… Gendry still didn't know why he was there…

Then suddenly his name was being called, he looked at Tobho Mott nervously, then walked forward. The bald man talked first, then Lord Stark, but Gendry's head was spinning, they were claiming that the King was his father! It was all happening too fast! Then suddenly Lord Renly was trying to put a Baratheon cloak around his shoulders!

"No!" He pushed himself to his feet then suddenly remembered his manners. "No thank you, your grace. I have no wish to be named a Baratheon."

The court went silent. The King regarded him with cold blue eyes and slowly stood. Gendry knew that he should kneel, but as the King walked down the stairs towards him he found that he was suddenly unable to move. The King stopped three steps above him.

"Why not?" King Robert demanded.

Gendry met his gaze, there was no point in backing down now, he was already done for. "With all due respect, your grace, you don't give a damn about me. You wouldn't even know I existed if you didn't suddenly need an heir. You weren't there, when I was alone with my mother's dead body for days, because I was too young to understand that she wasn't just asleep. You weren't there when I was sent to the orphanage, when I went to bed so hungry that the pain made it impossible to sleep. You weren't there when I had to fight for every scrap of food… then ended up giving half of it away to those that couldn't fight for themselves."

He took a breath to steady himself. "You may have sired me, but you are not my father. The closest thing that I have ever had to a father is Master Tobho Mott… and that's only because somebody paid him to take me. But Tobho Mott is one of only three blacksmiths in all of Westeros who can re-forge Valyrian steel… if you really cared about me, you'd gift him the Valyrian Steel to teach me to be number four."

"You ungrateful little-" The King began to roar.

"YOUR GRACE!" Lord Stark yelled, cutting him off. "Your grace, Robert… He truly is your son, you cannot be angry at him for having the fury of House Baratheon in his blood… surely a compromise can be met? You wouldn't want an heir that couldn't stand up for himself, it is an honourable request that the lad wishes to finish his training."

"As a blacksmith." King Robert muttered with distaste.

"As one descended from a builder I see no problems with it, your grace… or have you forgotten who built Storms End? Should I remind you? His name was Brandon Stark, and there has been a Brandon Stark in almost every generation since."

King Robert turned his back on Gendry, so that he was facing Lord Stark, whom was also standing. "Damnit Ned… see, this is why I need you." He muttered.

"Perhaps this is not the best place to discuss this?" Lord Stark said quietly. "Gendry obviously is quite overwhelmed to discover that you are his father, your grace, the lad needs some time to come to terms with the news."

"And a bath." Renly added. "Poor lad looks like his been pulled straight from the forge. Why don't we let Gendry get cleaned up and think on things, I have some clothes he should fit, once he's changed, and got a full stomach, then we can talk things through… your grace."

The King nodded and returned to the throne, Gendry was allowed to step backwards, and re-find his place beside Tobho Mott, court continued, but it was lost on him, then finally court was over. But as the King was leaving Renly walked over to him and put a gentle, but firm, hand on his arm.

"Come along, nephew." The smile on Lord Renly's lips was warm and kind, but it didn't quite seem to reach his eyes.

Gendry looked back at Tobho Mott, but the man simply gave him a gentle, but sad, smile. "Best do as he says, lad." Tobho advised.

~~/~~