The gentle rocking of the waves aroused the lone man sleeping in his rowboat. Gendry had somehow found it in himself to close and rest his eyes for a few minutes. He realized that he would rather not have a repeat of what had happened before.

He opened his eyes, and stared at the pale blue sky.

It's pre-dawn, he thought, and was thankful that he didn't doze off for too long.

He checked for the bag of food rations and the flagon of water, noting how light they both felt now in his hand. He did his best to ration, but with no idea on how long he'd have to row, to say it was a challenge was a definite understatement. He took a bite of bread anyways and drank a sip of water. He groaned audibly as he adjusted his body's position to sit down properly to row. He took the oars below the wooden planks of his boat and forced his muscles to move.

Gendry had always prided himself on his strength, but now his very pride is failing him. Every stroke now weaker, and his pace comparably slower than the day before.

He felt the waves rock his boat back and forth – back and forth-

back AND forth?, he thought, something's not right. He may not be an experienced sailor but with the time he'd spent on the sea, temperamental bitch it may be, the waves usually led to one direction at a time. Especially this early in the morning.

He looked at the water and noticed small ripples of waves coming from the wrong direction with white bubbles in their midst. Then he squinted into the distance and saw giant ships, similar to the ones that carried goods, all heading in one direction. The ships were like those he had seen before when he wandered by the port in King's Landing.

A sliver of hope arose inside him.

Have I finally made it back to King's Landing?, he dared hope that he did.

He decided then to follow these ships to the port they were headed in. It was easy to blend in when you're in a rowboat and surrounded by multiple ships of a large magnitude. The excitement and hope overcame him, he rowed with immense effort towards awaiting land.

He then saw the coastline ahead, it's the port at last, he thought to himself.

As he neared, he expected to see the towering Red Keep, but it wasn't there.

He looked to his left, right, beyond the leige of ships arriving.

There was no Red Keep.

His hope deflated and his heart sank, he wasn't in King's Landing just yet.

In the Red Keep's stead, he saw a large square keep with towers shaped like drums. The walls seemed to be shimmering in the pale light from the morning sun.

It's not King's Landing, but with the size of the port there's bound to be a market for food, or a place to work, he thought to himself.

Honestly, the sea has not been kind to him and he was hesitant of continuing for an unforeseeable days alone in the unforgiving sea.

He looked at the port again, then back to his food rations, then back to the port again.

It's easier to hide behind these large ships and in a town with possibly thousands of people, he convinced himself.

He then recalled the voice of Ser Davos telling him to row until King's Landing.

*gurgle gurgle*

He felt his stomach rumbling. He looked at his blistered hands, filled with water and blood.

How much longer could I possibly row? What of the sea's condition? I'm no sailor. The land is better for me to travel for sure. But..it's easier to capture a man on land than in the sea...But it's the goddamn sea. He feared he'd imagine things again, and his imaginary friend wouldn't be there to help him that time as well.

He weighed the options in his head, mulling over what to do.

In the end, he decided what to do.

He took a deep breath and rowed towards the port, apologizing to Ser Davos in his mind for not heeding all his advice the whole journey through.

He followed closely behind the ship to his right, it was the closest one to the coast, ensuring he was partly in the shadows. Slowly, he got closer and closer, that he could see the port now. He was engrossed with the port ahead of him, he didn't notice the large pointed rocks by the coast.

He was knocked to the right from the impact and held on for dear life to the boat.

He looked to his left, and to his dismay he saw part of the boat hugging the pointed rock with shards of broken wooden planks pointing outwards.

I guess, now I have no other option but to travel by land.

He took the bag with his remaining food rations and slung it over his shoulder. He stood up and scanned for the best place he could find for footing.

The coast leading up to the port was made up of rocky highlands. He looked to the port, though appearing nearby, he knew the water could be deep and didn't want to risk testing it. The rocks were full of erosions and were slippery to touch. His blistered hands complained of the work imposed on them. He was tired and his muscles sore, but his awareness was intact.

If I slip, I die. Not today. Not today, he thought.

His legs were weak from disuse but at least they weren't tired. He concentrated on every step with somewhere to hold onto nearby.

If my legs fail, my hands can save me; if my hands fail, my legs can save me, he repeated to himself over and over again.

Slowly, he reached out one foot to step and one hand to grab. He held on like his life depended on it, which it did.

Step, grab, step, grab, step, grab.

He found his own tempo and eventually moved faster and faster. He saw the port getting closer and closer, and his heart fluttered in anticipation.

Almost there, he thought. Two more steps to go.

He lifted his leg placing it in a crevice he spotted, but the spot was more slippery than it seemed. The shadows from the highlands tricked his mind into thinking it was a safe step.

His foot slipped losing his footing. His instinct urged him to grab on tightly to the rock he still held onto as he felt his knee scrape against a jagged rock. He stood himself back up and urged himself to concentrate. He dared not look at his leg for now but instead fought through the pain.

With more caution he continued ahead, his mind urging every muscle in his body to hang on.

Then, finally, he took that step onto solid ground. He sighed with relief and let his knees give in. He hissed at the pain as he remembered his injury on his right knee, and inwardly laughed at himself for forgetting.

Seven Hells, I made it, he thought as he looked back to the rocky highlands he traversed. He hoped he never had to do something like that again. He looked at his hands which were shaking, and his knees felt wobbly. He looked for a place to rest for a while, especially since he felt his body was still rocking as if he remained on his little boat. Damn it, I deserve a fucking rest, he convinced himself. He knew if he pushed himself, his exhaustion would catch up to him in the most unlikely places.

He limped to a shaded spot in the port, in the very corner, away from people's eyes. He checked the area in case more pointy rocks were hiding in the shadows, then he allowed his back to lean against the stone cold wall and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. His legs outstretched in front of him and his back was fully supported. Gendry never loved the ground as much as he did right now. He slid off his bag of rations from his shoulder and opened it. He thought of saving some of his food rations for later just in case he couldn't find a place to work for food, but that was before the rocky road he ventured on. He devoured all the remaining pieces of bread and gulped down some water. He was far from full, but his body felt better after finally eating.

He heard multiple voices coming from the port, people's footsteps running around unloading their cargo. If he wasn't aware of them, he would cry or laugh, or maybe do both at the same time out of relief. This may not be King's Landing, but land is land.

He felt thankful for the shade he found finally shielding his skin from the sun. The sun now was halfway into the sky, shining brightly. Though he came to hate it during his travel on the sea, he appreciated its beauty.

He finally built up his courage to look at his injuries. First, he looked at his hands, the blisters had multiplied. Some were old and on their way to healing, and some were new filled with blood and water. He tried closing his hand, though painful, he was relieved his grip was still good. With my hands like this, could I still mend armor? he thought, and he hoped he could find a way around it. Blacksmithing is his trade, it's the only thing he knows, without it he feared his ability to survive. Second, he braced himself to look at his right knee. He hoped the pain was out of proportion to the injury. He looked at his right knee, and was glad it wasn't actively bleeding. So far, so good, he thought. He then tore off a piece of cloth from his shirt, and with the flagon of water he had he poured the water over his wound to clean it. He wiped the blood off, and looked at the wound beneath. He was relieved to see no bone exposed, and thankfully he wouldn't need a needle for it.

But now what? he thought.

There were plenty of ships here, maybe he could ask for passage to King's Landing. He'd feel safer hiding on a ship than traveling alone on foot by land. He looked at his empty bag of food rations, and felt for his empty pockets. He had nothing to pay with, there was no profit to be earned for them to assure his safe passage. Though he knew it would be safer, the sensation of a rocking boat still wracked through his body. The sea was not his friend, and the idea of talking to all the people here in the port would make him stand out too much. He didn't trust these pirates and traders much. The people who wanted him all had money, the chances of being sold off seemed highest at the hands of those who hunted for gold at any chance.

Land it is then.

He watched the path the cargo from the different ships took and decided to follow them. He rested enough, the sun was now high in the sky. He knew he couldn't stay sitting in a corner of the port all day. He stood up, his muscles stiff and sore, but better compared to before. He cautiously added more weight to his right leg, testing how much it could handle. He picked up the now empty bag that used to contain his food, and checked on his flagon. He'll look for a source of water and the bag could be handy later on.

With a slight limp, he followed the path leading into the cobblestone streets of the town.

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Hi! It's me, haha. Can you guess what town Gendry is in now? I did my best to research on the area and I hoped you enjoy the new terrain. There's more to come in the next chapters. I have many plans for him *insert evil laugh*. Thank you for reaching this far in the story, I hope y'all enjoyed it. See you next chapter! :D