I remember one night clearly in Kings Landing, feeling the cool air in the room I was staying in and how It was keeping me awake. I was used to the cold, how it would have me bury into my covers and furs in order to be lured to sleep. But not here, I only had my small clothes and I was already hot in my covers that were here. I had to sleep outside my covers, still in small clothes, and I was still covered in sweat. I dreaded it, needing to get up and move around every once in awhile and get myself sleepy. The room I stayed in was nice, close enough to Arya and Sansa's chambers since Arya popped over and told me about her lesson with the infamous Syrio Forel. She was so vivid about him, how he was breaking her down to the basic moves and was a trained sword fighter. I watched from my spot near the window as she was practically bouncing on my bed, wooden sword drawn and waved it around her with the new moves Syrio taught her. She explained to be that he was from Braavos, and the technique he used as a unique name:

"Water Dance." She said aloud, aiming at a invisible target in front of her and then driving her sword into with such intensity in her stance and face. I smiled from my spot, arms crossed and hair swaying in the slight breeze as I watcher her with joy in her eyes once more. Once again, thanks to Syrio and his Water Dance routine, Arya was back to herself.

Somewhat.

Now, it being late at night and there was hardly anything else to do, I walked over to the window once again and hoped to feel the breeze coming through the small opening. I peered out, seeing Flea Bottom and hearing the small chatter here and there. There were lantern outside of the vendors shops, but I saw nothing else. It was peaceful in Kings Landing, and I wondered if it was even this peaceful for a long time. It might of not, but then again who was I to wonder. I had a job to do.

Out of nowhere, suddenly, I started to hear the rhythm of a hammer hitting a anvil. It was a singing sound, almost hissing and left high in the air as another sound it, the same sound, over and over again. I looked towards the sound, hearing that it was coming from Flea Bottom, somewhere deep within the dwelling. It made me wonder, for a mere second, if it was in fact Gendry. He was a Smithy after all, a apprentice to be precise. Would it be him making such a song late in the evening where everyone else was asleep. To me, it wasn't a threatening sound at all, but it was in fact soothing. The same sound, over and over, a memory that made me remember of the Smithy back at my home. The sound made me think of creation, who a sword would be created from hammering on a anvil and fire. Creation, that's what I thought.

Gendry was creating.

I smiled from my spot then, thinking about him once more and how for some reason he didn't hit in King's Landing. He wasn't like the other people there in Flea Bottom: ruthless and slimy and unkind. No, he was sincerer, polite, a bit brash and forward but none the less good. I saw good in him, a real goodness that was very hard to find here, or anywhere. As whomever it was, though in my mind it was Gendry, hammered away into the night, I moved away from the window once more and back to the bed, laying on top of the covers and resting my head amongst the feather pillows, my mind going back to the constant memories of my childhood. As I closed my eyes, I heard nothing once more, but the hammering of the anvil, which lulled me into my sleep and into my memories.

The doors in front of me opened, having me walk into the chambers of Myrcella Baratheon, Cersei and Robert Baratheon's daughter and whom I was making a dress for. It surprised me that she was so kind to me, very affectionate and sincere as I took her measurements with Cersei watched carefully from the corner of the room. But her child, whom was opposite of her mother, giggled and laughed as I measured her, having me hear her laugh as if it was bells in the wind. I made her a gold gown, with accents of red and roses around the sleeves and cascading down the dress to the bottom. It was beautiful, matching the young girl perfectly.

"Is that my dress?" She asked me in curiosity as I approached her in her chambers, which looked like her mother's but a bit smaller. There was a large balcony showing the ocean and having me hear the sea life as I smiled and nodded my head. She smiled so brightly, having me really think that she could not be related to Cersei at all. I saw the servant behind me walk in front of me, holding the dress that was folded neatly in her hands. Myrcella carefully took it in her hands, almost as if she was afraid it would break if she held it too hard, and held it out in front of her. The gold shined in the room from the sun streams in the room, and the red intensified against the gold. She smiled, a softer one now at she looked. The servant went back behind me as I waited for her reaction. I have seen that face on her before, the face of pure shock and fascination.

"It's radiant." She said aloud in a breathy tone, looking at me and having me see her blond hair against her skin. She looked like her mother, but her look was so innocent and less stained. It made me realize, her mother was stained from something else, something deeper and more damaging. But I pushed out of my mind as her daughter looked at me, her smile was radiant in the sun that was in the room.

"Thank you, it's wonderful." She said to me, having me have both a open and broken heart at the same time for her. It was open for the kindest that she gave me and her innocence. But it was also broken, since I knew who her mother was and watch this child grow under her.

Under her ruling.

I decided to visit Gaila the next day, helping her with a few things here and there while I was taking a break from Mycerlla's dress before I finished her mother's dress. it was halfway done but I needed some time away from making dresses for the Royal Family, it felt like it was giving me a headache.

That day, thankful, Brennon was needed on another matter, but I reassured Lord Stark that if I went straight to Gaila and back, there was no need for me to have someone follow me. He was convinced, after thinking about it for a moment or two, but he was fine with me only going to and from.

Gaila was happy that I was helping out in her shop, mending tunics and shirts from other vendors that she would do or little or no money at all. She was known around Flea Bottom as a gracious one, very much loved by the other Vendors, and once they knew that I was friends with her and a young girl whom she adored, I was instantly off their radar as a potential threat.

Sitting at one of her stools in front of the shop, I was mending up on a pair of pants, helping with the overflow of clothes that were give to Gaila that day. She was off in the back, fixing a few dresses and humming to herself as I was doing the same, a familiar song from Thedra Ascent that Sophia taught me when I was very young. It made me pause, needle in hand and remember the song in my head and how Sophia would hum it in such a nice tone. I smiled in my spot, humming to it once more, and feeling a sense of peace over me.

"What's that song?" I looked up, seeing none other than Gendry in front of me. He was holding a dark shirt in his hands, it must of been one of his work shirts, and I saw him look down at me with sincere interest.

"Sorry?" I asked him aloud.

"The song you were humming." He said, "What was it." I smiled, looking down at the pants that were in my hand.

"A song that I was taught when I was little by my master." I explained to him, moving the pants aside and gently grabbing the clothes in his hand and placing them on my lap, seeing him say nothing and watch as I started to mend them, "It was a worker song, all of the workers in Thedra Ascent knew this song and would sing them when they were looking for a brighter day."

"And are you?" he asked me, having me pause before I looked at him in wonder. Was I looking for a brighter day? Was I even trying to look for a brighter day?

"I miss my home." I replied to him seeing him say nothing but look at me as if he knew what was going on. He walked over from the front to where I was, standing next to me and folding his hands on front of him as he watched me work.

"I thought you make dresses." he said to me, having me smile as I worked on his shirt.

"I do, but a dressmaker had to start somewhere. I learned how to stitch and mend clothes, way before I could even get material." I explained to him, seeing him grab a stool to sit next to me, having me feel the heat of his body radiate off next to me.

"How old were you?" He asked me aloud.

"6 years old." I said back to him, seeing him look at me with a bit of shock and fascination in his face, as if this was starling news. I looked up at him, seeing him stare at me with intensity.

"How old where you when you first picked up a hammer?" I asked him with curiosity in my tone of voice.

"7. My master didn't trust me as a young one, waited until he thought I wasn't stupid enough to kill myself with it." He said to me in a nonchalant tone, having me flip his pants over on my lap and look at it some more, running my fingers along the thick fabric to feel for any other breaks.

"I never took intelligence as a trait for holding a hammer." I said in a joking tone, seeing him do nothing at first and having me look at him. I might of hit a nerve, but he shrugged with a smirk on his face.

"Nor did I, but my master's a idiot himself." He said in a small joking tone, having a grin on my face be seen. I paused then, thinking back to the night before and then staring at him with interest.

"Were you hammering last night, late into the night?" I asked him aloud, seeing him pause before he answered.

"It's the only time I get on the anvil, well, without the master breathing down my throat." He explained to me as I worked on his pants some more, "It was too hot yesterday for me to work on the helmet I was making, so I waited until it cooled down."

"I heard you last night, from my window." I explained to him, as if it was a regular conversation. I could see he froze from his spot, looking at me with shock in his face. To me, it was nothing, but to him, it must of been like he was caught and he was to be punished.

"I didn't mean to bother or keep you awake, if you want I can stop—" he started, but I shook my head.

"No." I cut him off, seeing him fall silent, "I like it. It reminds me of home. The smithy at my home would work all night into the wee hours. It's a nice sound, at least to me anyways." For some reason, I wasn't scary to tell him such a thing, but it must of been to him something that was out of his normalcy, since he said nothing as I handed him the clothing, practically brand new and seeing him look at it with his eyes. He even ran his fingers along the new stitching that I placed on there, thinking that it didn't look horrid. I filed my hands on my knees, realizing what I was doing. I was befriending him, not even thinking as to why I was doing it. I might of needed a friend outside of the walls of royalty, someone who was a worker like me who knew was it like to be a servant, who enjoyed the simpler things in life, and who understood me.

Did he understand me?

"Thank you.' He said aloud, so soft and almost hoarse as well. It made me think, it was as if no one has done this kind of thing to him before. Made something new from something old. I merely smiled at him, a kind smile that I would he would appreciate.

"You're quite welcome Gendry."