Chapter 5 – The Truth

The forge of Winterfell has not cooled down since the dragonglass started coming in. Every smith who knew the trade was working around the clock to make as many weapons as they could in preparation for the battle against the dead, and Gendry was among the best of them. He carefully poured the melted down obsidian into the mold and made sure he didn't waste any material. It was in short supply and tricky to work with; you had one shot of getting it right since you couldn't refine it after the weapon has been forged.

"Gendry? He's here."

He looked up as he heard someone say his name and went to grab the finished product for his guest. "It isn't easy making a blade that big with dragonglass," he said as he handed the ax to the Hound.

"You're saying you're good, is that it?"

"I'm just saying it's a tricky material to work with. But now that I've kept up my end of the bargain, I hope you will as well."

The Hound let out a grunt as he inspected his weapon. "Don't know why the fuck you want me to teach you how to fight."

"You're the only person I can ask."

"You could ask me." The two of them turned around when a girl's voice came from behind them. It took a few seconds but they both recognized the girl that accompanied them in their separate adventure.

"I heard you were here," said the Hound as he narrowed his eyes to try and intimidate her, "you left me to die."

"First I robbed you," Arya said coolly without so much as a flinch.

"That list of yours, how many names are left?"

"Not many."

"And here I am," he said as he walked up and looked down on her.

After a long pause, she finally responded, "You're not on my list anymore."

"What changed your mind?"

"You," she said with a tilt of her head as if to see what his response would be.

For what felt like a long time, he didn't have one. Finally, with as grumpy a tone as he could muster, he walked past her and said, "At least I'll be able to sleep without worrying about you slitting my throat at night."

He felt his throat tighten as he got out onto the courtyard. Never in his life had he felt like he had been looked at as he really was. Not as the Hound, or as a Clegane or even as the persona of his brother that he put on, but as his true self. What was it with these Stark girls that seemed to be able to warm his cold heart and pull the best out of a dog like him?

"You two have come a long way from when you were calling for his head," said Gendry.

"And you came a long way from being sold to a fire witch," said Arya. "What did the red woman want with you anyway?"

"She wanted my blood for some kind of spell."

"Why your blood?"

Gendry sighed. "I'm Robert Baratheon's bastard. I didn't know until she told me. And then she tied me up, stripped me down and put leeches all over me."

Arya's eyebrows rose. "And here I thought something bad happened to you," she said as she walked past him to look at some of the dragonglass knives.

"What?" He quickly followed her. "Why does everyone keep treating it like it was some kind of sexual fantasy? It was horrific."

She smiled at how serious he was. "I'm just messing with you."

"Oh, so that's how My Lady wants to play?" he smiled back.

"That's right, and 'your lady' wants something done for her," she said as she pulled out Needle. "Can you coat the tip in dragonglass?"

"What do you need to coat it in dragonglass for?"

"I know you're a bit slow but wights can only be killed by dragonglass, Valyrian steel, and fire."

"You're going to fight?" he asked with a hint of worry in his voice.

"You don't think I can?" she responded defensively.

"Of course I think you can, you're the bravest person I know." The statement threw her off a bit as she expected him to treat her as if she was still that defenseless little girl all those years ago. "Now I know I'm not a great fighter, but I've fought a few of them and I'm telling you they are really bad. They're like death; cold, emotionless…inevitable."

"You don't think we can win." It was spoken in a quiet voice, more as a statement than a question.

"Remember when they were torturing people at Harrenhal?"

"You were picked."

"Aye, and when I was strapped to that chair, I thought that was it. I was going to die and there was nothing I could do about it." Gendry hung his head as he let out what he's been trying to keep at the back of his mind ever since he saw the army of the dead. He's tried to bury himself in work; working the forge from dawn to dusk, sleeping as little as possible to avoid the nightmares and training whenever he could. But nothing he did could keep away the constant sense of dread he had. "That's the way I feel now."

Arya watched him as she contemplated what to say next. Gendry wasn't some sheltered kid, he grew up living a hard life and has seen things that nightmares are made out of, but he has never despaired like now. "Do you pray to the gods?"

"No, I was never one for religion."

"My two teachers believed in only one god, death. It has many faces and now it has taken the form of White Walkers, but there's still only one thing we say to death…Not today." She grabbed his shoulder and made him look her in the eye. "Fight it, Gendry. We've fought against death countless times before and won. We'll win this time as well."

Gendry smiled as her words fueled the fire of life within him. If she could believe in him then he ought to do so as well. "It's good to see you again, Arya."

"You too," she said with a smile of her own and despite not looking one part a proper lady, he still found her to be the most charming woman in the world.

By the time Jon and Daenerys came back from their date, the sun had already set. After taking care of some business, they went their separate ways as Daenerys said she had someone to meet and thank. Jon took this opportunity to enjoy some alone time and gather the thoughts that have been surfacing ever since he rode Rhaegal. He decided to go down to the crypts as it was one of the two places where he could be alone and unbothered while also being able to pay some respect to the dead.

He lit the candles and took a step back to look at the statue of his father, Eddard Stark. They were never able to meet again after that crossroad and they never had a chance to talk about his mother. It had gone to the back of his mind but his ride on Rhaegal made him question who his mother really was. After all, it was said that all dragonriders have the blood of Old Valyria. He had heard of the rumors of her being Ashara Dayne, who people say his father had fallen in love with at Harrenhal. The Daynes have displayed Valyrian features and Ashara Dayne even has Targaryen blood in her. So would that be enough? Surely the Targaryens wouldn't have been so obsessed with keeping their bloodlines pure if he could be a dragonrider with the little Targaryen lineage he has.

It made him feel somewhat better to think that the woman wasn't just some whore his father never cared for. But at the same time, knowing the fate of Ashara Dayne left a bitter taste in his mouth. He sighed in resignation as the theories in his head began to make it hurt. At the end of it all, none of it made sense and no matter what, he couldn't imagine his honorable father breaking his vows for any woman. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard someone stumbling and falling down the steps leading into the crypts.

He walked over to see who it was, only to find Sam grunting in pain as he slowly got up. "Sam."

"I'm sorry, I know I'm not supposed to be down here." Before he could continue, Jon brought his brother in for a hug.

"Were you hiding from me?" asked Jon, given that he hadn't seen the man despite knowing of his return from the Citadel.

"Of course not," he answered sheepishly.

"What are you doing in Winterfell? Or did you read every book in the Citadel already?" he asked half-jokingly but when he saw the look on his friend's face he knew something was not right. "What's wrong? Gilly?"

"She's good."

"Little Sam?"

"Did you know?" he asked quietly.

"Know what?"

"Daenerys, she executed my father and brother. They were her prisoners." Jon tried to digest what Sam was saying. The Daenerys he knew was always kind and merciful, beautiful and strong. An executioner was not how he wanted to see her. "She didn't tell you."

"I'm so sorry," he said finally after not knowing what he could possibly say. "We need to end this war."

"Would you have done it?"

"I've executed men who've disobeyed me." His shoulders felt a little heavier thinking back on the look Olly gave him before he hanged him.

"You've also spared men. Thousands of wildlings when they refused to kneel."

"I wasn't a king."

"But you were. You've always been."

"I gave up my crown, Sam." He turned to walk away, not wanting to get into another argument about how he shouldn't have done it. He's had enough of those with Sansa already. "I bent the knee, I'm not the King of the North anymore."

"I'm not talking about the King of the North, I'm talking about the King of the bloody Seven Kingdoms!" The statement was so ludicrous that Jon stopped in his track and turned to stare at his friend. "Bran and I worked it out. I had a High Septon's diary and Bran had…whatever Bran has."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your mother was Lyanna Stark. And your father…your real father, was Rhaegar Targaryen. You've never been a bastard, you're Jaehaerys Targaryen, true heir to the Iron Throne."

"No!" he shook his head as all the pieces fell into place. His father's honor. His bond to Rhaegal as a dragonrider. But at the same time, he felt his whole identity begin to shatter. He had been a bastard his entire life; looked down upon by others and a smirch to Ned Stark's honor. He had always wanted a name that wasn't Snow, but to think that it would be Targaryen that replaced it.

"I'm sorry, I know it's a lot to take in."

"My father was the most honorable man I've ever met. You're saying he lied to me all my life?"

"Ned Stark promised your mother he'd always protect you and he did. Robert would have murdered you if he knew. You're the true king, Jaehaerys Targaryen, Third of his Name, Protector of the Realm, all of it."

"Daenerys is our queen."

"She shouldn't be."

"That's treason."

"It's the truth!"

"And it's divisive! I'm grateful for you telling me this but you must keep this a secret. We have a war to fight and another one after that, there's no time or room for who's the true heir to what."

Sam wanted to argue but the look Jon gave him stopped him. As he turned to leave, he asked him one last thing. "You gave up your crown to save the people. Would she do the same?"

*Author's Note: I decided to have Arya tell the Hound that he was no longer on her list because I felt like at this point, Arya doesn't really feel the need to keep pretending she hates him. Also, I felt bad that Sandor never got any thanks from Arya until right before his death in the show, so this was my way of giving him some positive reinforcement for all the good shit he's done.

I enjoyed the dialogue between Arya and Gendry from the show, but their relationship ended up being more of a one-night stand. I think the two characters have a lot of built-in chemistry and I've got a lot more in store for them so that's why I made their exchange a bit more serious/personal rather than flirty.

I decided to skip writing the scene between Daenerys and Sam, not because I thought it was bad or unnecessary but because I thought there wasn't much I could add to it. As for the last chapter with the flight scene, that was just so magical, iconic and spine-tingling that I really wanted to bring it back to life for you guys one more time.

As for why I decided to change Jon's name from Aegon to Jaehaerys, I mean c'mon…Lyanna was that big of a savage that she named her son the same as Rhaegar's first born son that he had with his OTHER wife? That's just silly and the name beginning with J just makes more sense to me.