Sorry for the delay! Chapter was written in two days so might not be my best work.

We never know how high we are
Till we are asked to rise
And then if we are true to plan
Our statures touch the skies—

The Heroism we recite
Would be a normal thing
Did not ourselves the Cubits warp,
For fear to be a King—

We Never Know How High We Are by Emily Dickenson

Gendry

Ω

A lot had changed in a such a short time, he could hardly believe he was ready. He'd grown fond of the armoury of Winterfell, and though he would not leave the castle, he would no longer call the forge his home.

He gripped the hammer tightly, knowing it would be the last time, and pounded at the pliant steel, forcing it to bend to his will.

He'd never made such a weapon, not by himself, but he remembered how it was done. It was one of his better memories of master Tobho. It was not a popular choice as most soldiers and knights preferred longswords to war hammers, but the old man had insisted he learn.

He'd taken care to teach him how it was done, with a sort of strange determination, that at the time Gendry had took for fatherly regard. Only now he knew it was because the man had known who his real father was. He could only assume Mott hoped to give him something of Robert Baratheon in the only way he knew, or perhaps he wanted to remind the king of his bastard son. He could not say for sure in any case, and yet the memory remained dear to him.

He'd never aspired to more than the fate of an armourer, perhaps one with a good reputation, but no more. Then when master Tobho had sold him and he'd lost it, he realized he'd hoped for too much. He was nothing more than a bastard of Fleabottom who would likely live a short brutal existence forgotten on an ice wall, and no more.

When he'd lost that as well, it had not surprised him how quickly he'd offered his services to her enemies, (who were his own too in fact) but he could not pass up a chance at that old idea of what his life would be. Then he'd given that up because a small girl had made him believe he could have better than that.

The force of his hammer reverberated in the room as he hit the metal with more power than necessary when he remembered what happened after that. He was not sure what he'd do if he ever saw them again, the men who claimed brotherhood and had sold him like cattle, or the witch who wanted to burn him.

He shook his head to try and dispel the notion as he realized he did not want to think on it. He focused instead on the weapon and what it was truly for. King Jon had told him that the Others; wights and whitewalkers, had returned and he knew the man well enough to know it was no lie.

The realization of this only brought him back to the secret that had long since been bothering him. Jon was king, and yet he was also a friend. He had bonded with the man in the time that he'd been there, whether because they were both bastards, or because their blood was Stark and Baratheon, he was not sure, but he knew he could not pledge fealty to Jon and continue to lie to him. He had to tell the truth and soon, before he bent knee.

But first, he had to temper the steel in his hands.

Ω

He'd not been nervous about disclosing his secret, at least not at first, but now that he was heading to King Jon's solar, he felt tense and every step his feet felt like more and more like lead. It did not help when one the guards told him that the king had been looking for him.

He entered the room, trying to forget his sweaty palms and the pit in his stomach, and hoping he did not look as abashed as he felt. He was lucky as King Jon seemed immersed in the paper in his hands.

"You Grace," He bowed deciding to keep his head down until he was addressed.

"Gendry, come take a seat," He heard the king say so he looked up expecting the man's solemn gaze but found that he was writing instead.

He nodded though it went unseen and moved to the empty chair across the table and sat, waiting for whatever it was he'd been summoned for. He was relieved he would be able to ease into the topic instead of having to explain the reason for his visit the moment he'd arrived. A long moment passed, and it was not until King Jon pressed the seal into the hot wax that he looked up.

"Apologies, urgent matters I must attend to."

He tried to smile, though it was clear there were other things on his mind, then he lifted his arm two scrolls held lightly in his hand turned his gaze away and called out for his squire.

The boy arrived shortly after and took the proffered items with only a passing glance to him before he left the room, this time heading out through the door Gendry had just entered.

Once they were alone, the King finally turned to him, his expression heavier than usual.

"You must be wondering why I've sent for you, and though you have no need to worry there is something I must ask."

He'd managed to reign in his nerves, or so he thought, but at Jon's words he felt himself go stiff.

"Yes, your Grace?" He managed to reply with a steady voice.

A moment passed before the King spoke.

"It seems your time in the armoury has come to an end much sooner than I'd expected."

Gendry had known this already so he was not sure why King Jon had brought it up, not until he continued, "Tomorrow- I must ask that you pledge your oath and serve the North and myself. There are few I am sure of, and they are all most gone. I will need good council, and someone I can trust, and I will need it soon."

He did not say anything at first, only nodded. The king had revealed much in his speech, and though his words had been vague, Gendry understood something or someone was coming to Winterfell. He realized then that he could not wait any longer.

"I will be glad to swear fealty your Grace, but there is something I must tell you. Something that I have kept hidden since before I arrived in the North."

King Jon did not speak, though he suddenly appeared tense, and more somber than was his usual custom.

"As I have told you your Grace, I'm only a bastard from Fleabottom no more, my mother merely a tavern wench, but the man who was never my father-" He hesitated.

The Lannisters wanted Gendry dead because he shared the same blood as the old king, and yet he was nothing to him but a name. With resignation, he finally spoke the truth very few knew.

"He was of noble blood- From a great House. "

When he looked over to see how his words had been received, the Northern king seemed almost relieved.

"King Robert," He said, his words more statement than question.

He could not help his surprise, "You know?" He asked, throwing in a hasty 'your Grace' a second later.

King Jon did not seem to notice or care.

"I suspected. My sister Sansa was in the city when it happened- when they slaughtered children. Babes and little boys in the streets-" His voice trailed off and Gendry did not dare speak in the gravity of his silence.

A moment later, he continued, "And though I hardly knew the king, it is hard to deny that you resemble him, and his kin, even for a fool like me."

He grinned halfheartedly, as he usually did, and though he knew the words were intended as a joke, Gendry knew he truly meant them. He'd learned much of King Jon though the man had revealed very little, and it was clear he was still unsure of the crown on his head, as he was not sure he deserved it, or if he could handle it.

As a fellow bastard of a noble house, he understood this, but he had also heard what had happened to King Jon, various accounts of it in fact, but what always held true was that the men of the Night's watch had betrayed him, and killed him. The Red Priestess had brought him back, the very same woman who'd wanted to burn him.

He would never forget the day the Hound had nearly sliced Ser Beric Dondarrion in half, and he'd come back. King Jon did not resemble the wounded knight in any way, yet there was a heaviness in him that was very much like the Lightning Lord.

He wanted to assure him, give the man confidence he desperately needed, and yet he could not.

"I understand why you remained silent, but I thank you for telling me the truth. I will keep your secret if it is what you wish, though I hope you do not. You are the last of House Baratheon, bastard or no, and I may need your support in the future."

Gendry wanted to acquiesce to the King's request, and yet again, he could not. He was not ready, not yet.

"If the time comes your Grace, it will be my duty and honour. Though for the time being, I hope it is not too bold of me to ask your Grace to keep it. It is not a title I have yet earned."

King Jon seemed more disappointed than displeased, and yet he nodded in acquiescence.

It was that night, at the evening meal that King Jon announced the impending arrival of the new Queen in the South, Daenerys of House Targaryen. There were murmurs in the great hall, the faint whisper of dragon and fire before the king's next words silenced them.

"I have sent word to all not present here, that she will be welcomed in the North."

The room remained quiet for a moment, before hushed voices filled the air, this time more forcefully. It did not appear as if they were pleased with this verdict. Again he spoke.

"She comes to speak of peace and we do not seek to start a war with the South. She is not our enemy, and we will need her army if we are to win, and her land and ships if we do not."

The implication was clear, both his intention for true peace, and how far he would go to keep them safe, and the dissent dissipated almost as quickly as it had appeared. The king had never had solid proof of the enemy he claimed was heading their way, and yet, save for a few, most believed him without contest. Gendry had heard of the expression 'the North remembers', yet he had not known how deep the meaning ran. The King might not see it, but he had the people's trust, obedience and respect.

At their continued silence, King Jon nodded gratefully to them all, before he took his seat without another word. The room resumed in its bustle, everyone suddenly returning to their meals, drink and conversations, and though it seemed as though all was forgotten, he was sure they would speak of nothing else once they left the Great Hall.

a/n: Kind of a short chapter, mainly because I wanted to get this out as its been so long since I last updated. Sorry about that. I just started a new job and have less time these days, so the next couple of chapters might be the same. Thanks for sticking it out and waiting!

I'll try to post the next chapter soon.