This chapter flowed out so quickly, I can hardly believe it!
Anyway… Timeline wise, we start a little behind here, but this is where we catch up.
It's the same as before or the other time or the time before that…
Only each time you think well now I've learned:
I'll let her do that and I'll do this, I no longer want it all…
Now I'm waiting again and the years run thin.
I keep dumping bottles and listening for footsteps.
I hope that death contains less than this.
from This Then by Charles Bukowski
Gendry
Ω
He should have known it would be too good to be true.
The world had never been fair to him after all. Sure, sometimes he'd had bouts of luck, he was fairly certain it played a big part in how he was still alive. That and the kindness of strangers.
But when it came to his actual life, things had never gone his way. First his mother had died, and left him with a blacksmith, the course of his life decided for him. Then, when that had stopped feeling like a burden and instead had become a purpose, he'd lost it too.
He'd adjusted to the idea of a dull life on the wall, just as the man who would take him there died to save him. And then somehow, amid chains, a torch and a bucket with a rat, Gendry found the forge once more. This time however, he gave it up willingly—though maybe not at first, but that was mostly the sting of jealousy, though for what, he hadn't known at the time.
And then there was the Brotherhood and Gendry thought he'd finally found his place. Among his equals, men with nothing to their name but their word.
And of course, that had been the biggest lie of all.
It was just after midday when he reached Sallydance, and when he was stopped by their guards, men he did not know, he said simply, "I'm here to speak with Dondarrion and his priest. My name is Gendry… Baratheon." He paused for a moment, hesitant to say his new surname, but ultimately decided he would use all the weight he now had behind him.
He had not come to see them, but he doubted the use of her name would do him any good. Who knew what she was going by these days.
Gendry was surprised when they immediately gave him pass, and directed him to where they were. As he made his way through the camp, he quickly realized this was not the brotherhood he remembered. For one, their ranks had dwindled, and he hardly recognized any of them. For another, they seemed weary, their shoulders hung heavy with idleness, without purpose, whereas before they'd been righteous and bold. Moving among the brotherhood who'd sold him to a red witch, he felt no rancor. Only pity.
When he reached them, sitting by the fire looking just as he remembered, maybe older, more haggard, but the same nonetheless, he didn't bother with ire, and spoke simply.
"Thoros, Beric."
It was the latter who answered, "We've been waiting for you. Come, sit."
Though Gendry was no longer angry, that didn't mean he wanted to sit and share a skin of wine with them, as if they were old friends. He stepped closer, but remained standing, and only addressed the first part, since it had actually caught him by surprise.
"What do you mean, waiting for me?"
Thoros raised his brows poignantly, "Should think you better than most know the answer to that."
Gendry scoffed, but said nothing. Refusing to fall for any of their tricks, he focused instead on what he'd come for.
"Where's Arya?"
Neither seemed surprised by the question, nor determined to deny him the truth.
"Gone," Beric replied, tone grave as usual. "Left a few days ago with Sandor Clegane."
For a few seconds, he wallowed in his misfortune, yet again. He'd been so close, missing her by only a few days. That she'd gone with the Hound was almost incomprehensible, that she'd done it willingly, well that shocked him silent.
"Where'd she go?" He finally managed after a long moment.
Beric and Thoros looked at each other, uncertain. Gendry wanted to remind them he had more right to know than they did, so there was no reason not to tell him, but then Beric spoke, "Taking care of old ghosts."
"What does that even mean?" Gendry replied exasperated.
"Look boy," That was Thoros, and he turned to look at the man, feeling his anger rise at the slight, "The girl won't be found til she wants to be. If you do as you're supposed to, she might even come to you."
With resignation, Gendry scoffed. "You don't know Arya as well as you think, old man."
"Neither do you."
Gendry frowned, but said nothing. Knowing the priest was not entirely wrong, about Arya being impossible to find, about him not knowing her, he felt the bitter truth of that like a sour taste in his mouth.
"Shall we?" Beric said then standing, interupting the tense silence that had taken over.
Gendry snapped his head to him, "Shall we what?" He asked skeptically.
"As Beric informed you already, we've been waiting for you. Wherever you're going, we're coming with."
Then he too stood, and after a silent prayer put out the fire.
Gendry couldn't help the disbelieving laugh that burst from him,"For what possible purpose would you come with me? And more importantly, what would ever lead you to believe I'd let you?"
"The Lord of Light—" Thoros began, but Beric dropped a hand to his shoulder, silencing him.
"Darkness is coming. You know it. And we all have to fight, together."
Gendry had nothing to say to that. He remembered Jon and everything he'd said, and the Queen, Lady Sansa, hell even Jaime Lannister, everything they'd done in the cause of unifying the realm. These men might never be his friends, but they needed as much training as he did, by the looks of it, and there were greater matters at hand than his own feelings.
With another pang, he realized suddenly that it didn't matter where Arya had gone. He couldn't go looking for her, as much as he burned with the need of it. Jon was counting on him, and Gendry had made an oath, and as much as it might hurt, he could not break it. Arya would not forgive it.
With resignation, he finally spoke, "If you come with me, it would be as my men. Turn to your God, call yourselves the Brotherhood, but you serve the Stormlands, and you listen to my command. There can be no other way."
Gendry hardly recognized his own voice, feeling for the first time as if he could be the Baratheon everyone said he was. He stood firm though, and waited.
With no hint of irony, they both bowed, "My Lord."
"Let's not get carried away with it," He said then, voice embarrassed, and turned away, feeling himself slot back into the boy from Fleabottom.
It was when they settled for the night, that Gendry finally asked the question that'd been pounding in his head all day. The way they'd avoided the answer frightened him enough that he wanted to wait until he could be alone somewhere, if need be.
"Where'd they go?"
He was sure he didn't have to clarify by the same look on their faces.
Thoros answered, "They're looking the Mountain."
They seem to be sure no explanation is needed as neither say anything more. They aren't wrong, he'd heard the rumours of the eldest Clegane. He felt a ripple of fear course through him, his body jerking hard as if it wanted to stand and run out into the dark to find her, but his mind prevented him from doing it. With a deep twist in his stomach he found himself suddenly grateful that the Hound was with her.
She isn't alone, he reminded himself, repeating the words like a chant in his head until he finally dozed off some time later.
Ω
The road to the Vale was long and treacherous. The journey harder still, both with the steady incline, and the danger so close to their heels. Gendry quickly realized, he was not exactly a fan of heights, and he was so preoccupied with not dying, he hardly noticed Beric nor Thoros' presence.
They caught up with the not so little Lord and his knights before reaching the castle itself. The camp was already set up, and he directed Beric to find a spot for them to set up as he went looking for Royce.
Gendry had only gotten a few yards out when the man found him.
"I see you've not joined our party alone?" He said then, squinting over at the men who'd chosen a spot not far off.
Gendry turned to the rag tag group of men, flinching slightly when he realized how perfect a description that was for them.
"They're my men," He said to Lord Royce, more unsteadily than he'd aimed for.
He coughed lightly, clearing his throat before he continued more evenly, "They need a little cleaning up but—"
Royce interrupted him,"By the gods, is that Beric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr? How are they still alive?"
"It is, and I haven't a clue," He answered truthfully, since he'd not even tried to find that out as they travelled together. He hardly spoke to them in fact.
This seemed an unacceptable answer to the man as he scoffed, and made his way over to the Brotherhood, obviously intent on finding out. Gendry let out a relieved huff, since it did not seem as if Royce disliked them, instead the opposite. They were infamous it would seem, and Gendry felt a brief flash of curiousity himself before it was gone, and he simply followed Lord Royce over.
As Gendry had predicted, the man took no issue with their presence, though he had been confused as to how King Jon even knew them. Luckily Gendry remembered the fib he'd told about where he was going, before he put his foot in his mouth.
Forcing the lie to grow, Gendry told him that King Jon didn't, but that since his father Eddard Stark had sent them on a mission that was now complete, perhaps they'd want to help with the coming fight. Thankfully, Lord Royce easily accepted this answer.
And that is how the Brotherhood came to serve him. Gendry Baratheon. Lord of the Stormlands.
The world truly had gone crazy.
Ω
It was a few days after they arrived at the Eyrie, and everyone was still settling in. They'd taken supper in the Morning Hall with some of the other soldiers, the knights of the vale as they were called. It was late, the meal long since cleared and most of the men that remained were mostly his own, though there were other smaller clusters sharing mead and conversation, just as his group were.
He wasn't particularly invested in the conversation at the moment. With Beric already retired for the evening and Thoros of Myr suddenly gone to relieve himself—though he hadn't exactly used those terms, Gendry hardly knew the men around him.
He was nursing his cup of ale, pretending to be invested in Gyles' tale of when he'd been caught in a brawl with his pants round his ankles, but Gendry wasn't sure how it'd happened nor why and only smiled along, his mind far off.
The sound of someone plopping down across from him, clearly intent on getting his attention, forced him back into the moment. When he looked, he realized it wasn't another soldier, but a woman.
"Well look who's finally arrived," She said then, a glint in her eye and a smirk on her lips.
She was beautiful, with her dark hair and mischievous expression, but it was clear she knew it, and was used to getting her way. Gendry knew the type, and certainly wasn't interested.
He straightened, his voice not exactly unkind as he answered, not wanting to give her the wrong impression, "And you are?"
The smirk deepened, and she shook her hair, "Don't you recognize me?"
With a frown he let go of the flagon of ale to run a hand through his hair in irritation. Without hesitation she reached for his drink, and sipped deep before answering.
"Hey!" Gendry called out, bothered by her familiarity.
She set it down with a laugh, "What's a sip of ale between family?"
He felt his annoyance spark, the audacity of this woman. She'd taken a sip of his ale for crying out loud, it was clear no one held her in check and he wasn't about to do the same.
"What are you on about?" Gendry said then, tired of the charade.
Seeming to sense his mood, her expression straightened. Though it wouldn't have been hard to tell considering the deep intensity of the frown on his face and the exasperated edge to his voice.
There was still a slight smirk on her lips as she answered however, "Got the temper I see."
His brow furrowed further in confusion, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, she barreled on.
"No smarts either. Guess it only runs on the women's side of the family," She said with a wicked grin. "You must be a Baratheon after all."
With a roll of his eyes, he spoke as if that was obvious, "Well it is my name so…"
The smirk finally slipped from her features, and Gendry couldn't help feeling pleased at its disappearance. Of course, the relief was short lived.
"And it was the name of two dead boys who were not Robert Baratheon's sons. So," She finished, the grin planted on once more, now clearly meant to mock him.
Thankfully it was at that moment, that Thoros finally returned.
"I see you've met," Thoros said then, distracted, not noticing the tension between them, as he refilled his cup.
"Does it count if I still don't know who she is?"
Then realizing Thoros could answer this, added, "Who is she?
He finally looked over, noticing Gendry's expression and now he too was smirking. Thankfully Thoros didn't seem intent on keeping him in the dark, and answered, "She's your sister."
"Well half sister," He tacked on after a pause to sip from his cup.
Gendry whipped his head almost painfully to look at her, suddenly understanding everything she'd said.
She was already reaching for his cup, laughing. He didn't stop her, too dumbfounded to react, to move even. She drained it before dropping it to the table, and reached her hand out to shake his.
"Mya Stone."
After a moment, he chuckled, feeling both shocked and amazed and even a little elated, at the thought that she was his sister. He had a sister. He shook her hand.
"Gendry."
After they got him a new cup, they spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other, though she did most of the talking, which Gendry was grateful for. She told him about how Robert had met her mother, how everyone just knew she was his daughter. How she heard of his sons, their brothers—lord, the concept might never stop surprising him— getting killed in Fleabottom.
When she asked how he'd survived, he kept it simple. Saying only that he'd been sold into the Knight's watch but in the chaos of war, he'd never gotten that far.
"You ended up in the North anyway," She shrugged and took another sip of her, not seeming to want an answer to that. So he didn't.
The silence lingered, though it wasn't uncomfortable, and just as he decided he would call it a night since he'd had his full, she finally spoke.
"So how did a bastard from Fleabottom become Lord of the Stormlands? Have you ever even been there?"
He knew this would eventually come up, but not that her words would sting as bad as they suddenly did. There was no underlying tone, but still, he tensed up.
"I didn't want it," He mumbled forcefully, and brought his cup to his lips only to find it empty.
"Didn't say you did. Only asked how."
He relaxed a little at that, as she was serious, no jeer in her expression anywhere. She only looked curious. Somehow Gendry found the courage to speak.
"I was in the Riverlands for a bit, smithing, got pretty good. It wasn't bad, just hard. Then I heard about the King in the North, how he was a bastard too."
Oh and I'm in love with his sister. But he didn't say that part.
She said nothing, so with a shrug he continued, "I met his father once, he was friends with our father."
And wasn't that something he'd never said before. Gendry cleared his voice before he resumed, "He told me if I ever wanted to do more, I should come to him. When I did eventually, he was already long gone, but I thought his son could be someone worth serving, better than the Mad Queen anyway."
Gendry finished with another shrug, and realized how hard he was trying to seem casual that he probably didn't look it at all. He ended up pouring himself another cup in an effort calm himself and distract her enough that she might not notice.
He had no need to worry though as she pressed on, "That doesn't tell me how the King named you."
"We became friends, he found out the truth. When the Queen gave him the choice, he chose me. Saw no reason to say no. I thought I was the only Baratheon left."
He stiffened, knowing they were getting to the point of her questions.
"So you've met the Dragon Queen then?"
He was surprised by the question, as it was the last thing he'd been expecting.
"Um, yes?" He answered uncertainly. "I thought—"
She waved him off, seemingly knowing what he planned on saying, " I don't want anything from you nor the Stormlands. Keep them."
Gendry sighed in relief, not that he particularly felt defensive over the kingdom, he just didn't want conflict to arise between him and his newfound sister.
"As my brother, I thought perhaps you could put in a word with Queen Daenerys?"
Comprehension flooded him, and he chuckled with relief.
Her cheeks brightened, looking timid for the first time since he'd met her, but didn't let it stop her.
"I'm a fighter," She said, voice firm, "Been training since I was a girl."
At his bemused expression, she added, "Got away with it on account of our father. Being his bastard does give me some sway, I admit."
Gendry couldn't help laughing, "I suspected as much."
"I wasn't born to serve a Lord, not as a maid not as a wife, I want more than that. I wish to serve the new Queen. I'd appreciate it if my big brother could put in a word, at least get me a chance to prove myself."
Feeling playful and at ease, probably by her casual use of the words big brother, and since she'd done her best to get under his skin when they'd met, he decided to give her a taste of her own medicine.
"Oh I don't know, that'll depend on your skill. Can't give my word until I see how good you are."
He startled when she jumped to her feet.
"We should spar!" She nearly yelled. "My blade against your hammer."
Another burst of laughter spilled from his throat.
"Sure, but not tonight, not unless you want me to accidentally kill you," He signalled to his flagon and the empty pitcher, as if that were answer enough.
Her eyes narrowed, "More like the other way around."
He sobered up then, when he realized that she reminded him a little of Arya.
"Guess we'll find out, just try not to kill me, and I'll do the same," He answered, unable to produce little more than a small, but sad smile.
"I'll do my best," She answered, before she bowed, and with a mock tone, said, "My lord," before she left.
When he was finally alone, Gendry wondered where Arya was in that moment.