Gendry
Tobho Mott was a fair master, but he could be demanding. The Qohor man had him in the shop from dawn till dusk and at the end of the day Gendry was tired and even a bit agitated.
"More work on that, lad" his master told him, eying the longsword he had been working on for hours. Gendry suppressed a grunt of annoyance, but took the sword out of Tobho's hands and set off to work on the blade.
"How much longer, Master Mott, if I may ask" he asked after a moment.
"You'll finish when I tell you to finish, lad" said the smith gruffly.
He worked through the night on the weaponry his master was preparing for his buyers, and when he was done he sat down by the fire for a rest and fell asleep.
He dreamt of a woman with blonde hair, who carried a tired smile for him when she came to find him playing in the streets after finishing her work in the tavern. His mother.
He was overcome with sadness when Master Mott roused him awake with a mug of water, a stern look on his face.
"Beds are for sleeping, boy, not my shop" he said gruffly. "Up, you can work it off by polishing these." He led him to a row of armour as the other boys laughed at him from all around the shop. Gendry scoffed under his breath, but obediently began polishing. It went on for hours and he was almost done when Tobho came back with a heavy look on his face.
"Gendry, come here lad" he called out loudly.
Gendry blinked and finally saw the man standing next to Master Mott. His rich garnets made it clear he was a lord, and a high one at that.
"Gendry!" the Master repeated.
He straightened up then strolled over towards him. He saw the man was quite old, and was looking at Gendry with an odd expression.
"This is Lord Arryn, the Hand of the King" said Tobho and Gendry blinked. The Hand visited the forge himself?
"My lord," Tobho continued, a serious, careful expression on his face, "this is Gendry, a hard worker, and a fine one too".
Gendry felt somewhat shy as the Hand studied him. What did a high lord want with him?
"Well met my lad" said the Hand politely.
"Well met, my lord" answered Gendry automatically.
"Are you treated well by Master Mott, lad?" asked the Hand.
Gendry blinked and looked nervously at Master Mott.
"Aye, m'lord".
"Do you like your work?" asked the Hand again, studying Gendry carefully and the boy felt intimidated.
"Aye, m'lord".
"Good," said the Hand. His face was getting curiouser by the minute.
"Tell me about your mother, Gendry, if you may".
Gendry suppressed a heave. What did this man want with his mother? What business did he have with a bastard apprentice at all?
"What about my mother...m'lord" he said more carefully than ever, looking at Tobho who was looking at Jon Arryn with an almost threatening expression.
"Where did she work?"
What business is that to you, he wanted to say, now agitated, but wisely held his tongue.
"At the alehouse, m'lord".
The Hand nodded almost knowingly which surprised Gendry.
"What was she like, Gendry?" said the Hand gently.
"She had yellow hair, m'lord, sometimes she used to sing to me, I remember. She died when I was little."
"I'm sorry to hear, that lad" said the Hand sympathetically. Then he looked him in the eye and nodded.
"That's enough lad, you may get back to your duties."
Gendry nodded in relief. As he made his way towards the armour, he heard Tobho shout.
"Leave it, lad, you're done for now, I'll get back to you later" he said turning to Jon Arryn.
Gendry saw the two speak to each other for a moment longer before Tobho left to show the Hand and his guards out.
Gendry might have laughed at his own confusion, but the questions in his head were overwhelming. What did the Hand get out of those questions about the life of a lowborn apprentice?
The other boys were looking at him funny now, suspicious after seeing him speak with the high lord. It made Gendry uncomfortable and he decided to bury himself in his private work. Reaching down under his bench he took out his bull helm. He had gotten the head right, but the horns needed some work. He buried himself in his work and nearly forgot about the strange meeting with the Hand.
Jon Arryn
The boy was Robert's. That was clear. Gendry was Robert before he took the crown, his sullen blue eyes and the black hair that were the same shade as Joanna's. Like Robert he was tall and muscular, a younger but perhaps stronger Renly, he thought. The seed was strong.
He had been tracking Robert's many bastards, far too many, for months now and each discovery filled him with fond memories of Robert's childhood at the Vale, but a sense of dread as acknowledging the hard truth was more and more imminent.
Blue eyes, black hair, strong features. All of them. Joanna had her mother's softness and her eyes, as a child she seemed more like a lion than a stag in fact, but by the time she left for the North, Robert had truly shown her. His smile. His features. He remembered Mya Stone, Robert's eldest, and Edric Storm, Baratheon blood clear as raindrops. The Seed was strong.
He sat in his solar during a cold evening as he reread the tome a hundredth time.
Lord Orys Baratheon, black of hair.
Axel Baratheon, black of hair.
Lyonel Baratheon black of hair.
Ormund Baratheon black of hair
Steffon Baratheon, black of hair.
Robert Baratheon, black of hair.
Joffrey Baratheon golden-haired.
He looked down on the notes he scribbled on the parchment beneath the book
Joanna Baratheon, black of hair
Mya Stone, black of hair
Edric Storm, black of hair
Gendry, black of hair
Then his eyes darted to the last name in the book.
Joffrey Baratheon, golden-haired
The gold always submitted to the coal and the seed was strong.
Gods, the answer was so easy yet so terrible. But by the Seven he had to look it in the eye. Joffrey was a bastard, not a crown prince. Robert's heir was a bastard born to a woman and her own brother. Her own twin. The others too were clear.
Joanna was not. One look at her was enough. He had done his research carefully into Joanna's birth and the Queen reportedly argued often with members of her family during her pregnancy. She was agitated snd untrusting and showed little concern for how the pregnancy was going. A guard was present with her at all times, at her father's insistence. The Crown has many enemies, he had explained. But Jon could see things clearly now. Cersei didn't want the child, she didn't want to feel Robert's child growing in her womb, the woman was truly so hateful that he pitied her, for she must be truly alone and miserable deep down in her heart. She had always treated Joanna differently and this was why. All she wanted was to have her beloved brother's children. Perhaps she had tried to harm her baby, but Tywin had found out and prevented it.
What now? Jon thought carefully. If he told Robert, the man would be furious. Beyond furious, he would unleash the same wrath on the Lannisters that he unleashed on the Targaryens all those years ago. Cersei and her brother would die, that was sure, but Tywin would defend his children, surely.
There was only one answer to that: war. Thousands dead, tens of thousands perhaps, and victory was not certain for he knew Tywin was always prepared to go to war if the need ever rose.
The Stormlands would be with the Crown, surely, Dorne he could perhaps convince, it was Tywin who ordered the murder of Elia and her babes. The Greyjoys would stay out of the conflict or fight in their own interests, but if he could negotiate, promise the return of Balon's heir perhaps... no, too dangerous, Balon was not to be trusted, and the hostage would keep him out of the conflict, yes that was better. The North and the Riverlands would go with the Crown, he knew Ned would ensure that. The Reach would side with whomever had most to offer. Robert still had a daughter to offer to Willas Tyrell.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock to the door.
"Enter" he said, expecting Lysa.
But the person that came in made Jon duck in his breath. Stannis Baratheon stared at Jon with suspicious eyes as he entered the room.
"Stannis.., to what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked carefully.
"I think you know, my lord" Stannis said sternly, eyeing Jon like a hawk.
Jon raised an eyebrow.
"Do I, my lord?"
Stannis said nothing, he simply slipped into the chair beside Jon's desk.
"Why are you seeking out my brother's bastards?" he asked.
Jon should have expected this, Stannis was no fool and he would surely reslise Jon was up to something when he started visiting Robert's bastards. Could he trust Stannis with the truth? He was Robert's brother, but he knew Stannis always envied Robert, and since Robert denied him Storm's End in favour of their younger brother their relations were colder than ever. So for now he simply answered
"I merely wanted documentation of the royal bastards. Robert is a king woth many baseborns."
"Is it not insulting to my brother?" answered Stannis, his voice even but his eyes grim. "To leave a list of all his bastards to show just how many whores he slept with?"
He wasn't fooled, Jon realized.
"How did you find out?" he asked, masking the suspicion in his voice.
"First Renly mentioned that you asked him about Edric Storm, how he is, how much he looks like Robert. Then I learned you enquired about Mya Stone in the Vale. All the same questions. I got suspicious then, and found out you were visiting a forge..."
"So you had me follow, I take it" Jon asked.
Stannis narrowed his eyes.
"I went there and found a boy who is clearly one of Robert's unrecognized."
"I imagine you gave him a fright".
Stannis scoffed.
"He told me you asked him about his mother, who worked in an alehouse. My brother is fond of these we both know. Getting confirmation, weren't you?"
"Perhaps" Jon said carefully. "Why should you care?"
"You've asked for a tone detailing the Baratheon line. Why are you suddenly so interested in my family? Perhaps" Stannis leaned in, "you aren't satisfied with the current line of succession".
Does he know? Jon thought, almost getting nervous now.
Stannis knelt in further.
"You want my nephew away from the throne, don't you?" Stannis's eyes burnt. "For whatever reason, though reasons there are plenty, my lord, you want Joffrey gone, I think that's clear."
Jon heaved his breath.
"I agree with you, of course, that boy is a beast and will destroy the Seven Kingdoms. Neither of us wants that, Jon. I'm sure. But my question is, if Joffrey does not take the throne, then who will?"
Jon signed, looking down.
"That's not up to me."
"Perhaps, but if something is to be done about that boy and his mother, someone needs to act. All I need from you Jon, is proof."
He knows. Or at least suspects like he had. He had seen the bastards, like Jon had, but he lacked Joanna's words of what she had seen.
What was he to do? Stannis surely wanted the throne. In another world, he would have supported him, Stannis was a clever man, and he was forced to admit that he would make a better king than Robert. Robert ruled with pleasure, but Stannis would rule out of duty. But there was another. He had not seen Joanna in years, but he remembered her as a clever, kind, and mature girl with a good heart and a mind beyond her years. Going North to Ned will not have hindered that. If anything, it would only improve the girl. Ned was a man of honor and responsibility and was sure to instill these in the young girl as well.
The line of succession was complicated, Joanna was Robert's first and only trueborn, she had been named heir until Joffrey was born. But a woman had never officially been a queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen was named only a Princess by Aegon II. It would be up to Robert whom he named his heir once he found out about Joffrey and the others. If he told Stannis now he may act now, far too early. Jon would need to speak to Joanna before he did anything else to confirm what she had seen, see if she would be willing to provide her testimony, perhaps by promising to ensure her siblings were protected. And take the opportunity to find out how her character had changed.
Looking into Stannis' eyes, he knew what the man wanted.
"We should speak on this on another day, my lord" he said gravely. "When I know more about the... matter".
Anger flared in Stannis' eyes and he got up.
"Trust me, Stannis' ' Jon told him and Atannis signed.
"As you wish, but you ought to be wise, Jon, I won't wait forever."
He turned to the door.
"Wait" said Jon quickly, sipping his wine. "There's a different matter I want to discuss."
Lysa
She had been annoyed when Helga burst into her chambers, but when she told her what she had seen she ran to get a raven and wrote all about it to Petyr.
His reply came soon enough and warmed her heart.
My dearest Lysa,
I am most grateful for informing me of this news. Your raven has truly shaken me and I am at a loss I must admit. But this is a delicate matter and must be taken carefully. Tell no one else of this. Come see me in King's Landing and we will discuss our next step. I shall await your return most expectantly and it us with great joy that I shall receive you, for I have missed you most terribly.
You have been a dearest friend to me, Lysa. Since those days in Riverrun I knew I could always rely on you. Know you shall always be close to my heart and will have my love forever. Thank you again for your trust and I know together you and I shall work together in light of this news.
Yours now and forever,
Petyr
She laughed and danced at that, tears in her eyes. Her beloved was pleased with her. He knew she trusted him more than anybody and it made her so happy.
"Mama," her sweet boy said, looking up at her.
"Yes, my sweetling?" she asked with a smile. He was the light of her life, the sight of him made her so happy she almost shook.
"Tell me about Moon Door," he said.
"People fly through it, my boy" she beamed at the wonder on his face. "YOU make them fly".
The days after came like a blur, she spent time with her sister and her family. The princess seemed calmer and happier after her talk with the bastard. Having a friend to tell your secrets was quite liberating, Lysa knew.
It was oddly unsurprising to learn of the truth of things about Cersei abd her brother. The woman was vile and mad and fucking her own brother fit well with the woman's warped mind. She had always clung to him abd that bastard they called prince like something would try to take them. Who would want that brat? Lysa thought with a smile.
The journey to King's Landing was far too long, even with Sweetrobin, her precious, long-awaited boy. He was the light of her life, always by her side as he should be. Gods, Petyr, if only he could have been yours, my love.
When they arrived in King's Landing at last, Petyr held her in his arms, and Gods, sge was the happiest woman in the world. Her love by her side again. She was happy to do as he asked. She told Jon about what she had learned, she took out the princess' doubts as Petyr suggested. She wasn't sure what quarrel Petyr had with the Lannisters, but it didn't matter. Petyr needed this and she would do whatever it took to help him.
Months passed and Jon showed no signs of doing anything about what she told him though. Her husband was old, and yet it surprised her to see him so slow of wits, but his love for the King surely clouded his judgment and he wanted to spare him the pain of his wife's crime. But it made her so angry because she could see Petyr was disappointed in Jon's lack of action.
Nearly a whole, boring year after she told the truth to Jon, her husband called her to his solar.
"My lord" she said politely as she crossed the threshold.
"Sit please, my lady," said Jon quietly.
She slid into the chair and looked at him expectantly.
"My lord, I was told you had something to tell me".
"Yes" said Jon after a moment. "I want Robert to foster at Dragonstone".
The words bounced right off her ears, leaving her dazed. Surely she heard him wrong.
"I beg you're pardon?" she asked after a long silence.
"I want to send Robert to Dragonstone to be fostered by Stannis Baratheon. Lysa? Lysa..."
What happened afterwards she did not know. She awoke in her bed, covered by warm sheets. Her husband sat by her bed, and his eyes lit up as he saw her.
"Lysa, I was worried".
"What happened?" she asked quietly.
"You fainted, Lysa, we were talking about fostering Robert to Stannis."
Her eyes widened. She reached out and grabbed the old man hard by the shoulder as she drew him closer, his eyes widening in shock.
"No. You cannot. You will not take my boy from me."
Jon's eyes narrowed and he broke free from her grasp.
"He's my boy Lysa too. I only want what's best for him."
"Then why are you taking him from his mother!? No. I won't have it. I won't let you!"
"Lysa, please, calm down" he said soothingly.
She struck him. Slaps and punches to show her rage.
"Don't you dare! I won't let you! Never! Never! My boy! He's mine alone! He's mine!"
"Lyse, Lysa"...
Her attacks barely seemed to graze him. He grabbed her as she struggled against him. He held her in his arms as she cried and struggled.
"Lysa, listen to me, please!"
"Why" she weeped. "Why?!"
He held her and looked at her, his own eyes in tears.
"I love Robert and I know you love him so much. But we're failing him, Lysa, he is whiny and detached from the world. He knows nothing but your lap, Lysa. Stannis is a good man and will look after him. He will take care of our boy and when he returns to us he shall be a man."
"You would ruin him" she spat accusingly. "You monster. You would ruin your own son and take him from me. He needs me. He is ill, Jon, he will die without me!"
"Lysa, he is stronger than you think. He will be a great lord after me, I'm sure, but not like this. He needs to know the world of men. Please, try to understand..."
She shrugged from his grip and run out of the door, leaving him sitting by her bed in silence.
This couldn't be. Her boy was to be taken away from her by his own father. Before she had disliked Jon, he was old and wasted, but she always respected him enough. He gave her Sweetrobin and for that She was grateful. Until today. Now she hated him, hated him with such a venomous anger that she wanted to tear him apart herself. She couldn't have this. She would not. Never. She knew who could help her. The one man who understood her. The one who cared for her always no matter what. The one man she loved. The man who she be here in Jon's place by her side as her husband and Robert's father.
She knocked on Petyr's door with a shaking hand. It took her a long time to get an answer. Petyr was in his night clothes and was holding a candle in his hand.
"Lysa.." he said as she threw herself into his arms. "Lysa, my love, what's wrong".
"You have to help me, Petyr. Please. He wants to take Robin. Please do something."
"Lysa, Lysa" he said soothingly as he held her in his arms. She sunk into his embrace, weeping. "It's alright, my love, it's alright."
She cried into his shoulder for an hour until she fell asleep. She didn't wake until the next morning, and was overjoyed that he was still holding her, sitting in his chair.
He blinked at her as he woke. Then he took her up and put her in another chair.
"Tell me what happened, Lysa".
She told him in tears. He shook his head in disgust when she was done.
"How can he do this to you? To your son? Truly how can he be so cruel? So heartless?"
"Help me, Petyr," she begged. "I'll die if I lose him".
"I don't know what I can do, Lysa, I'm.. "
She screamed and threw herself at the floor sitting by his knees as he soothed her again with a hug.
"Petyr, I can't... I can't... Stop him. Do something. Anything."
"I don't.." he looked at her, his brightening as he thought hard. "Unless".
"Unless" she said expectantly. "Please, Petyr.
"No, we can't..."
"Can't what!? Please!"
"It is a terrible thing he wants to do to you, Lysa, we must be terrible in return".
"What, Petyr, what?!"
He hesitated, then knelt in to whisper in her ear. Her heart dropped.
"No, Petyr, I understand but we can't".
He looked at her in surprise.
"I thought you said you'd do anything, Lysa."
"But this, Petyr..."
"Is but a tiny speck compared to what he's planning, my dear."
"But... It's too dangerous."
He looked at her darkly.
"More dangerous than sending your son to Stannis Baratheon at Dragonstone?"
He was right. It wasn't. She needed to take the risk. For Robert.
Besides, Petyr assured her all the way back to her chambers that it would be safe. That she could trust him to take care of it all. All she needed to do was one simple act. If Petyr said so, then it was true.
He parted with her when she reached the doorway and she watched him go hungrily before going off inside.
Jon was awaiting her, eyes dry. He arose, unsure of what to do, then slowly came over to embrace her. Despite every part of her screaming to strike him again, she forced herself to hug him back.
Just one act, she thought.
(Please leave your thoughts in the comments. I enjoy reading your reviews. Let me know if I make any mistakes or need to change something(: )