Hi guys! It's been awhile since the holidays kept me busy. :)) Happy new year ;) Anyways, I know this chapter is shorter than the others. I was planning on making it longer and more dramatic, but I thought maybe not. It's a peaceful end to the Duskendale arc. I wanted to give Gendry a little break. :) I hope you guys enjoy this! Disclaimer again: I do not own the characters or any part of the realms in Game of Thrones. I only have my imagination.

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He found himself in the narrow streets of Flea Bottom. Ruined buildings surrounding the streets, towering as high almost as the sun in the sky. It's around noon time, he noted. He walked the narrow streets, catching glimpses of dark alleyways. He turned his eyes away from any suspicious glances. He saw a flash of a red cloak in his peripheral vision and turned suddenly. Gendry could feel his heart race and a lump form in his throat. He continued on his way, slowly.

But to where?

Where am I headed?

He payed no head to the voice inside his head and let his feet takeover. He noticed that instead of heading lower to the Street of Steal, his feet were leading him away. He looked up and saw the image of the Red Keep steadily becoming larger and larger with every step he took. I shouldn't be here, this is not my place.

"But it is."

He startled at the voice and turned away abruptly. "This is your place." said the female voice. Gendry swore out loud.

"Arya? Wha-? Why? Are you really-?"

He stepped closer to reach his friend, but with every step he took she seemed to be further and further away. She smiled and turned her back. Gendry broke out into a run to catch her. He could almost touch her brunette hair in his hand.

Almost.

Almost.

But he fell flat on his face, and awoke with a start.

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Gendry awoke with his chest heaving in an attempt to catch his breath which he never lost. He looked around and found himself in the same room he's woken up to for over a fortnight. He pinched the crook of his arm to make sure he was awake.

"It was just a dream. Just a dream." He took deep breaths to calm himself and dressed for the day. Gendry had had the same dream for the past week or so, but this was the closest he had got to reaching his friend. The image of her was still burned in his brain so vividly that even if he were to close his eyes, he could still see her.

He wiped the sweat from his body and headed outside to wait for Everard. I'm in Duskendale, not King's Landing. He oriented himself to his routine that he had become accustomed to. He adapted quickly to the way of life here. It was peaceful and pleasant for a change.

But I can't stay here forever. Gendry knew that. Everard probably knew that. It remained to be a fact that he had put off acknowledging for a time. With every night, the reminder of his destination had become constant and unsettling.

"You okay, boy?" He heard Everard's gruff voice say.

" 'M fine," he said as he helped himself onto the boat and reeled up the anchor to leave the port.

He watched the sight of the receding shoreline as the boat sailed further and further away. He and Everard went on to untangle the fishing net. His fingers more sure and fast, it only took a few minutes to untangle the whole net. He looked to the man who had been kind enough to take care of him. A man who treated him like a son. It will be hard to say goodbye and leave him all alone. I have to tell him.

"Everard?"

"Aye, boy?"

He hesitated as he let the words settle on the tip of his tongue.

"I've decided. I'll be leaving in the morrow."

Silence followed as the words seemed to hang heavily in the air. He looked to Everard, who had his head bowed down looking at the untangled net in front of him. He saw him nod his head slowly.

"I see, Boy. You heading North or South?"

"South. To King's Landing."

Everard smiled at that. "Aye. You'd better get yourself home."

The silence was no longer heavy, and Gendry felt the sense of relief flood through his body. The day went on uneventfully. The sight of the glistening sea water and the feel of the mist of sea water spray against his face made him feel nostalgic. He felt like they were bidding him farewell. They had caught plenty of fish to sell with the net.

He noticed though that the boat wasn't headed back to Duskendale just yet.

"Where are we going?"

"Might as well catch some more. Still early after all, and it might be your last time to hold a spear in your hands."

He saw Everard lead the boat near the shallow waters. They disembarked and walked the rest of the way.

Gendry looked at the spear in his hand. It felt as familiar as a blacksmith's hammer now. He saw a large fish approaching from his right, and he striked swiftly down and felt the head of the spear catch the fish. He caught fish after fish, almost matching the amount that Everard caught.

"You've gotten better boy," Everard said as he looked at the bag full of Gendry's catch. The weight of the bag on his shoulder felt reassuring.

"Come on. Best head back now."

They boarded the ship and sailed back to Duskendale. As the sight of the port approached, Gendry took in the sight of the glistening walls and the town that laid within them. He saw the rocky highlands he somehow navigated through when he first arrived at the port. He looked at his hands, noting the scars he acquired from his journey. The skin tougher than it was before.

They disembarked and anchored the ship to the port. They each took a bucket of fish and crabs and headed into the town for their daily rounds. Each shop owner scrutinizing their catch, making sure they chose the best that they could. The buckets became lighter with each visit until they reached the last one. The sun now was a mere centimeter away from the horizon, shining it's golden rays as far as it could before it went to hide away. The cobbled stones glowed in the sunset, and the distant chattering of drunk men flowed out into the streets.

Gendry's musings were interrupted when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"That's all boy. Let's go home aye?" he said as he usually did as he led the way back to his home. But not mine.

They had caught and sold a lot. The bucket contained only 2 pieces of fish. Gendry went on to prepare the soup and set the table. The smell of the soup enveloped the air. Everard waited patiently as he lit the fire hearth. Finally, the soup was done and they finally ate.

"There's some ale in the cupboard o'er there to the left. Go get some."

Gendry obliged and poured the ale into two mugs. He set the mugs on the table and took a sip from his mug. The liquid stung his throat and made his eyes water. How old is this ale?, he wondered as he felt the liquid finally settle in his stomach. Everard took a large gulp of the ale and sighed, content with the warmth of the liquid.

"Good eh? My son made it before..." and his voice trailed off. Instead of more words leaving, Everard gulped down the rest of the ale in his mug. He stood up and poured more ale into his mug.

Before Gendry could attempt to fill the silence, Everard reached into his pocket and placed a bag of money on the table and pushed it towards Gendry. He stared at the bag confused.

"Take it. You'll need it." Everard nodded to the bag of money and gestured for him to take it.

"I can't- I mean. It's yours." Gendry refused to touch the bag. He needs it more, he thought as he imagined how the man would be without his help. He felt a sliver of guilt inch itself under his skin.

"No it's not. Go on boy, take it. It's from the fish you caught." Everard sighed as he saw the younger boy still hesitate. He pushed the bag further now, almost to the edge of the table.

"You'll need it more than I do, don't worry. The Rosby road to King's Landing is full of fishing villages, use it for food or for a bed at an inn."

Gendry eventually gave in and took the bag in his hand and felt the weight fill his pocket.

"Thank you..for everything." he said. He saw the relief fill Everard's eyes when he finally took the money.

They finished their food and drank more ale until the embers of the fire started to die down. Everard stared solemnly into the dwindling fire. Gendry gathered enough courage to ask him a question he'd had on his mind for a while now.

"What happened to your son?" Gendry asked the question so quietly, he was unsure of whether the words really left his lips. The silence that followed didn't help his doubt. Gendry eventually stood up and gathered the dishes and mugs to wash. With his back turned, he was startled to hear Everard finally reply.

"Highborns did em in, and the gods.. they let them."

Gendry turned to see Everard turn away from the dying fire. "Get some sleep, you'll need it when you leave in the morrow." Then he entered his room and Gendry heard the small click as the door closed behind him.

He finished the dishes and entered to the room he'd been using. He closed the door and felt himself release a breath he didn't know he was holding. He thought back to the dark cold dungeon of Dragonstone, to the conversation he had with Ser Davos about his son.

"The highborns kill the lowborns, other highborns kill other highborns...Lord's son, or a fisher's..there's no difference is there?" he mused out loud. He touched the bag of coins in his pocket, listening to the clinking of coins.

My highborn blood can kill me or save me just as much as the lowborn in me.

Gendry pushed the fear of death away, hiding it in a corner of his mind.

"Arya Stark, Ser Davos." He reminded himself of the two people he owed his life to, and he let the calmness engulf him in the silence of the night. He fell asleep at last.

This time he did not dream of King's Landing, only of a certain brunette. He opened his eyes slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. He looked outside and saw the sky begin to lighten.

It's time to go.

He took one last look at the room and stepped out into the kitchen. He was startled to see Everard standing there, with his usual smile on his face. He saw Everard hold out his hand, and he met it with his hand as well.

"Be safe boy. Safe journeys."

"Aye. Stay safe as well."

He smiled then stepped outside and headed southwest to the Rosby road. He eventually found the path that will lead him to King's Landing. He saw the sun begin to rise behind him as he took one last look at Duskendale. The sight of the town slowly being engulfed in the gentle sunlight was beautiful and not lost on Gendry. He allowed himself one more second, then he took a deep breath and faced ahead on the road in front of him. He walked forward with steps full of resolve.

Goodbye, Duskendale. It's time to go home.