Finally a Gendry chapter. YAY!

I was asked why they would choose Gendry as heir over Edric Storm and it is simply because Edric doesn't have much of a story other then also being a bastard. The only difference was that Edric had been acknowledged by the Baratheons. Gendry I find has a more interesting background and the fact that he was raised as a commoner gives more wiggle room for where I want the story to go.

Anyways, here it is !

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Questions

He was doing what he usually does, working in the forge. It is his job after all.

He felt the hammer in his hand, an extension of himself, a part of him. It is all he has ever known.

Gendry was repairing a few swords for the king's guard. Hammering away and then occasionally wiping the sweat from his brow. The heat of the forge no longer bothered him, he could almost say that he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the labour. Being able to create something out of nothing. To be able to bend the steel of a sword, or create helms like his bull. He could never imagine life in any other way. He had grown to accept what he had, or didn't have. And, he was happy as the blacksmith's apprentice.

He finished manipulating the sword he had been working on and went to refill his flagon of water. When he returned, he wished that he could run in the other direction. Standing in the doorway, was Lord Eddard Stark.

He wished that they would just leave him alone, and let him be. Why is it that they are so interested in him?

"Good day, Gendry," Lord Stark spoke as he entered into the forge. Gendry ignored his words as he grabbed another sword in the pile to continue on with his work.

"There are things we must discuss," he continued, raising his voice to be heard over the clang of the hammer on steel. Gendry went on ignoring the high lord in front of him, refusing to even look in his direction. He expected the Lord to get his hint and leave but he had no such luck, Lord Stark sat down on a stool and got comfortable. It was evident that he was not going to leave so easily.

"No disrespect, m'lord, but can't you just leave me be," he said not looking up from where he stood. He had no respect for the highborn, what have they ever done for him or any of the others living in flea bottom? Lord Stark stood then.

"I have matters to discuss with you Gendry, if only you would listen."

"What matters of yours are of my concern? I am just a smith's apprentice, I do my job and I do it well. Why can't you leave it at that?" He began shuffling around his workspace moving things or putting them away. If it wasn't obvious to the pompous Lord standing in front of him he wanted nothing to do with anything he had to say.

"It is a matter of your birth, and a matter of your future," Gendry finally looked at him, but he expressed nothing but the slightest bit of confusion.

"What does my birth have to do with anything? You are the Hand of the King and you are sitting in the forgery of a smithy speaking to the likes of me. Why?"

"Last time we spoke, you told me of your mother," Gendry almost allowed himself to show the slightest bit of emotion but held himself in control. His mother has always been a sensitive topic for him, especially because of the things that had been said about her. "You said she worked at an alehouse here in King's Landing and she was yellow of hair?"

"Yes."

"Did she ever speak to you of your father?"

It was getting harder for Gendry to understand the direction of the conversation, and that bit of confusion he was feeling was beginning to grow into frustration.

"No. I am a bastard, m'lord. I am an orphaned bastard."

"And, if I told you that you were not an orphan? What would you say?" Ned was trying hard to break it to him easy.

"Then I would call you a liar m'lord."

"Well, Gendry, your father is very much alive and quite well," the frustration is building.

"And why are you telling me this Lord Stark?" he said gritting his teeth as to keep himself in control.

"Listen to me and please understand," Ned paused for a moment before continuing to make sure the boy was listening to him. "You are not just any bastard, Gendry… You are the bastard of King Robert Baratheon."

"No, m'lord. I am just an orphan, I am a smith's apprentice and a bastard. Any bastard. I am happy where I am. Why have you come here to ruin it?" the last part he was yelling at Lord Stark no longer being able to hold back how frustrated he had become. He picked up a stone sitting near him and through it at the wall. Him of all people, a bastard of the King. He has heard many a thing in his life but that had to be the most ridiculous.

"Calm down boy. We are only talking at the moment."

"Why have you come here?" he all but screamed this time. His rage evident on his face.

"I need you to be able to talk with me calmly Gendry."

Usually, Gendry is able to endure any situation with a level head. Nothing has ever been anything to him. There is usually no reason for him to have any sort of reaction. But right now, in this moment, he can't help but feel angry. His whole existence has just been questioned by the second most powerful man in the realm. How dare he enter his life and throw such information at him after all of these years.

But, nonetheless, he was right. He needed to calm himself down. He drank from his flagon of water and took a few deep breaths before resting himself on the stool nearer to his workbench and then looked up to the Lord who had just told him of his father.

"Alright, Gendry. We have recently discovered that the Queen's three children are not those of the King," Gendry looked at Lord Stark with a sense of intrigue. "Having been discovered, Cersei Lannister has been sent back to Casterly Rock with her children, none of them bearing any royal titles."

"What does this have to do with me?" His curiosity now overtook his anger and he was able to speak at a level tone with King's Hand.

"According to the laws of succession, you would be next in line to stake your claim."

"And, if I refuse?"

"Then, the King will need to search for another of his bastard children. However, we believe you to have the strength a king needs. Gendry, the king would like to meet you and legitimize you as his son. This would take away the title of bastard from your name. You will be risen to noble birth. If you agree, and we hope that you do, you will return to the castle with me where you will begin your lessons and training to one day rule the realm."

This was all too much to take in. He sat silent listening to Lord Stark with his head in his hands.

"To make things a bit simpler on you, the king plans to remarry. Should a son come from the union, you may step down from ever becoming king."

"I'm sorry m'lord but I'm no king. I am a bastard of Flea Bottom. I cannot read or write, m'lord. I have no skills in battle. I am not a person who will ever be able to rule a realm." How could anyone think him capable?

"You are able Gendry, you were born with the blood of a king."

. … . … .

They rode up to the castle on horseback followed by four palace guards. When they reached the gates Gendry dismounted and looked up at the Red Keep in awe. He has seen the castle from a distance, but never has he been asked to enter through the main gates.

He walked in next to Lord Stark and when a stable boy gave a slight bow and took the reins of his horse he didn't know what to do in response. He just looked at his accompanying lord who only gave a smile before leading him inside.

They walked the halls, and Gendry took in every detail because never has he been in such remarkable surroundings. He couldn't help but to feel out of place. A boy of Flea Bottom walking the halls of the palace wearing commoners clothes and covered in dirt and ash from the forge. What was he doing here?

They reached a room and Lord Stark opened the doors, "These will be your chambers. I will allow you to get settled and will send up a page with a bath for you to get cleaned up. Tonight you will be eating with the King."

With that, he was left in one of the largest rooms he has ever seen. The bed was large with a canopy overhead, there were lots of pillows and the bedding was a dark shade of orange with ornate patterns of gold and silver. On the far wall, there was a large wardrobe and when he opened it he was surprised to find it fully stocked with clothes to fit his stature but not quite anything he would feel comfortable wearing. There was a table and chairs positioned near the large window and a bowl of fruit rested in the sunlight. He walked to the window seat and looked out to see the view. Outside, he could see a garden. There were roses and other flowers of which he wasn't familiar but all were in bloom. There was a stone pathway that lead from a gate to a seating area on the other side. A large tree was centered in the middle of the garden with a large grassy area surrounding it. Under the tree sat two young girls and what looked to be a septa. He couldn't really see what it was they were doing but he couldn't help but notice that one of the girls was wearing a tunic and breeches. She had dark hair tied up on top of her head and large eyes that seemed to sparkle slightly in the light of the sun. And although not as appealing as the red-headed girl, there was something about her that caught Gendry's interest.

Right then his attention was called to a knock on the door and it opened. In walked two pages bringing in a large tub and two more followed carrying buckets of water. A young boy, who looked like he could be quite close to him in age, followed them inside and made his way to Gendry before kneeling.

"Good afternoon, my lord. My name is Podrick and I will be your squire. Lord Stark has sent me to ensure that you are appropriate for your dinner with the King."

"Stand up Podrick. And please, don't call me a lord. Just call me Gendry."

"Very well, sir. Here is your bath, please get cleaned up and I will pick out your clothes."

Even the sound of being called a "sir" made him cringe. He hasn't even been in the castle for an hour and already he regretted agreeing to Lord Stark's request. If after a week he decided that this isn't what he wanted he could go back to his old life. He could already guess that he would be going home in seven days time. But, while he waited there were things he needed to do. The first, was dressing up in the foolish clothes given to him and pretending to be the prince they wanted him to be. He took one last look at the young girl sitting under the tree before disrobing and stepping into the hot bath.

. … . … .

Podrick led him through the castle to large double doors with two guards standing outside. He felt his heart racing in his chest but he kept his composure. This was the moment he had never expected to pass in his life. Not only was he meeting the King of the Seven Kingdoms, but he was meeting his father. The father he has never known, the father he never knew to even exist.

He stood there for some time before nodding to the guards to allow him entry. It took another moment for him to muster the courage to step into the room.

He sat at one end of the table, crown atop his head. He was a round man with shoulder length black hair and a beard. He straddled the chair lazily, bearing his weight on his left arm and leaning on the rest for support. In his hand he held a goblet which, when he noticed Gendry enter, he raised high to his new found son.

"Come boy, take a seat," he gestured to the chair opposite to him. As he stepped forward he heard the doors behind him close which gave him a start. He crossed the room and sat where he was told.

"Good evening, your grace," he bent his head out of respect and refused to make eye contact.

"I believe we have some things to discuss."

"Yes, your grace," again looking into his lap.

"I spoke to My Hand upon your arrival and he has told me of the deal you have made. Do you really not want this, boy?" the king said with a small chuckle. "I am giving you the opportunity to live a lavished life. To become a lord and prince, and to have the chance to one day be king."

"I am not the kingly type," was all he replied.

"As Ned has told you, you will have lessons every days to prepare you for what is to come. And you are of my seed, so it is in your blood."

"I may have your blood, but I'm nothing like you," he looked him in the eyes when he said this, hoping that his point was clear.

"No two people are the same," he said laughing his big bellied laugh. "I just want someone to leave my throne to and you are my blood. I am not asking you to be the perfect king, boy, for I certainly am not. I am simply asking you to try your best and make this realm proud. Do not make me regret this."

With that they ate. King Robert would ask him a few simple questions about his life in the smithy and would go on to tell tales of his triumphs, including the battle on the trident where he won the Iron Throne.

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Expect an update in the next day or two!

Thanks for all of you following the story. Don't forget to review and let me know what you think! :)