G.O.W
Disclaimer: Everything except the divergent Plot Line and a few O/C's belong to G.R.R Martin.
The slowly dimming rays of sunshine peeking through his windows was what alerted Orys that maybe his meditating session had gone on for far longer than he anticipated. Taking a break from his little jaunt into his own mind, the Prince quickly stretched, trying to get the kinks out of his muscles and bones.
Three months had passed since the beginnings of what would come to be known as Greyjoy's Rebellion. The Red Keep had lost much of it's usually present sense of joy and luster. It's occupants found themselves in low-spirits. Most of them were old enough to remember Robert's Rebellion, and were present when Tywin Lannister's forces sacked this very city merely nine-years ago, they did not enjoy war, the thought of it having a chance to enter the City Gates seemed to suck the life right out of them.
But Orys was glad for it, since the current state of the Red Keep made it perfect for him to Practice his magic. Although he mostly did the more... subtle and technical spells in chambers, the secret tunnels were reserved for the more destructive kind. The air down there although was stifling, the bones of long dead Dragons still giving off magic.
The Art of Legillimency, or Mind-reading as he simply liked to call it was frustratingly eluding him. Trying to practice that particular magic was like trying to catch air in his palms. Every now and then he would make a slight breakthrough, but at the rate he was going, it was going to take decades to truly master the art. And having Snape for a teacher before didn't really help things, god Orys hated that cunt.
Donning on a rather plain brown cloak. Orys cast an overpowered notice-me-not charm with the snap of his fingers. He quickly slipped out of his room, tip-toeing so as not to alert Ser Meryn to his escape. Orys slowly made his way through the halls, dodging the stray unknowing servants. Quickly reaching the entrance, the boy Prince found his way into the City of King's Landing.
Truthfully, Orys hated it. The unforgiving smell, the poverty, the over-abundance of bars and whorehouses repulsed him. He was going to change it, all of it. His head was already swimming with plans to build schools, theaters, bath-houses and orphanages.
What were the previous Kings thinking? How could let their own capital fall to such depravity would always baffle him. Then again, it was the Targaryens who held the throne for three centuries. He thought about how arrogant were the so called 'Dragons of Old Valyria.'
'Dragons my arse' he thought, imagining a family of Malfoys with purple eyes. He shuddered violently as the image seared into his brain. Orys was plenty confident he could take a dragon or two if he got serious and was armed with Firebolt. The extraordinary power-up he got from reincarnation may even let him kill them, not without scratches of course.
Although he didn't exactly share his father's all-consuming hatred for the deposed monarchs, Orys knew if he ever laid eyes on Rhaegar, he would compile every single trick learned from Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort himself to personally see to it that the so called Last Dragon would experience a pain so dreadful the Maesters would have to come up with a whole new word for the resulting condition of his corpse.
Unfortunately, the cunt was dead. So that was that.
Steps taking him to the street of steel, Orys slowly made his way to the largest house in the area. The large timber and plastic construct belonged to one Tobho Mott. Orys had requested a sword to be made for him some weeks ago through raven and was planning to check on the progress. As he ventured closer to the blacksmith, a sense of familiarity hit him. Frowning at what it could be, the Boy-Prince hasten his steps, eager to see his new sword, and the source of this feeling.
He stopped to admire the hand-carved double weirwood doors before entering. The first thing he noticed was the stifling heat, and a curious looking boy, who eerily resembled him.
"Who are you?" the boy simply asked, moving closer to greet him.
Orys' face slowly morphed into a slight frown as he observed the boy closely. His hair was so dark it seemed to absorb the flickers of light coming from the fireplace. He was dirty and ruffled, hair sticking up everywhere. But what caught the Prince's attention was his eyes. They were a beautiful shade of blue, a blue that he found only Baratheons possessed.
"Baratheon... Orys Baratheon, and you are?" he asked politely, smiling to ease the shorter boy who looked incredibly panicked at the realization that the Crown Prince himself was standing before him. The shorter boy, woefully ignorant about etiquette simply fell to his knees and bowed awkwardly, his head touching the ground as if in prayer.
"G-gendry m'lord." he muttered, body still stuck in the uncomfortable posture.
'A waters I'll bet, but who's? Dad's?' he thought. The King was usually a patron of Littlefinger's most premium whorehouses once every few months, when he was feeling particularly drunk or depressed. Renly was far away in Storm's End... come to think of it, didn't he have a brother there? Yes... it was Edric Storm, son of a Florent woman if he wasn't wrong; Stannis had the personality of a wall, he would never cheat on his wife, no the man was too honorable for that.
There was Mya Stone too...his sister in the Vale. Orys cursed his own stupidity. He knew that they would be in a considerable amount of danger if they were in King's Landing but they were still his siblings. He should have made an effort to reach out, somehow.
He once overheard his father's fight with Cersei before, when Robert wanted to bring Mya to King's Landing so that Orys could meet his sister, the Queen had all but threatened to harm her. Orys' fingers twitched with the red light of the cruciatus but he found restrain at the end.
But this one... this Gendry was right here in King's Landing all this while, right under their noses. He didn't really think much of his dad's visits to whorehouses. This was a different world, with a different era. And truth be told, no matter how breathtaking his step-mother was, the woman was unbearable. Orys assumed his dad was three drinks close to death by alcohol poisoning to even humor the thought of bedding the woman.
"Please, stand up...Gendry." he said softly, hands grabbing the young lad's shoulder and lifting him up easily. The boy looked up, staring right at him with those bright blue eyes... Orys couldn't resist. Months of practice did little to help, but this time, he knew it would somehow work. He dived into the boy's mind with a whisper of 'Legillimens'.
Suddenly he was thrown into a small wooden house. Orys quickly scanned his surroundings, surprised to see that he wasn't far from where Tobho Mott's shop was supposed to be. The view from the window suggested they were in Flea's bottom, the smell confirmed it. Orys was baffled, usually only masters could do that. Maybe it was his and Gendry's connection that allowed him to do so?
"There there...mommy's here.." a soft and positively angelic voice cooed. Her calming words slowly dissolving into a soft hum that did wonders for the listening ear. Orys turned around and was met with a gorgeous blonde haired woman. She bore quite the resemblance to young Gendry, like the shape of her eyes and the curvature of the nose. Her dark brown eyes shone with pure unadulterated love as she her hums slowly increased in volume, suddenly shaping itself into a beautiful song.
Then, as fast as the memory came, it dissipated. Once again Orys found himself stuck in eye-contact with the same blue eyes, so much like himself. This boy really was his brother! Orys opened his mouth to say more but was cut off rudely.
"What's going on here?" a rough weathered voice questioned harshly as he barreled out of a door far off to the side. Gendry jumped three-foot in the air, quickly turning to face the new entrant.
"Ahh Master Mott, I was wondering if my order was completed?" Orys spoke just as the man opened his mouth.
The blacksmith was astounded that the Crown Prince was here, in his shop completely alone at this time without his ever-present guards. The old smith was garbed in a black velvet coat which had silver hammers embroidered on the sleeves. A large sapphire hung on a heavy silver chain about his neck, his face could be compared to worn leather, it's skin stretching around his face, plastered with a dark unruly beard.
"My Prince! What a pleasant surprise!" the man sputtered, quickly bowing and moving to usher the Prince to a more proper setting. Orys merely waved him off and took a seat on the nearest chair he could find. The blacksmith looked on in scandalized horror and the other boy in confusion.
"Your blade will be ready in a few days I'm afraid, I've been overseeing the project myself and I assure you Prince Orys you will only receive it in perfect condition." the man promised vehemently. He turned to Gendry, frowning at the dumbfounded child and was going to dismiss him but was interrupted.
"No wait, the boy Master Mott, where did you find him?" the prince questioned. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly as the famed blacksmith's posture screamed of nervousness all of a sudden.
"Well...I uh-...there was a man you see..he was covered from head to toe. He came one day with the boy and paid double the amount to apprentice him, I didn't see anything wrong with the arrangement and..." he trailed off, eyeing said boy who looked uncomfortable with the attention.
"And? How is he?" Orys continued, fingers tapping on the barrel he sat himself on. Tobho Mott looked confused, probably wondering why the Crown Prince himself was asking questions about a low-born child.
"Well, he is talented. The best I have ever seen in decades, the boy has strong hands, I daresay they were made for hammers, he has keen eyes as well. I would have taken him on without the fee I tell you." the man praised, uncaring of the boy's red face, much to the Prince's amusement.
'Made for Hammers eh? I say he was made for more...so much more...' Orys thought, a sad smile engulfing his face at the thought of what he should and what he couldn't do.
"The day he turns Thirteen, send him to the Red Keep, I'll see to it Ser Barristan himself will teach Gendry here how to fight." Orys declared, to the shock of the other two occupants.
'It's all I can do for now.'
The Blacksmith moved to speak, but Gendry beat him to it.
"B-but why!? I...I'm just a nobody, a bastard!" he questioned loudly, mouth opened and wide-eyed. Gendry was absolutely baffled, three more inches and his jaw would be kissing the floor.
'No you're not kid, you're my brother.'
"Why? Well, no reason I guess... maybe I just like you? Don't worry about it Gendry. I'm sure you'll do great." Orys placated the almost-hysterical child.
'You'll be more than that, you'll be a Prince, just like Joff.'
Tobho Mott quickly silenced the boy with a look and turned to the Prince, a look of steel in his eyes. Orys was pleasantly surprised, It looked like the man had a backbone to him after all.
"Prince Orys...with respect, Gendry is my responsibility... and if I deem it too-"
"Do not worry Master Mott, Gendry will be taken care of, I promise. I'll make sure he will be treated like a Prince of the realm."
'Just as he should be...'
"Alright then, if that's all...?" he trailed off, ruffling Gendry's hair a bit.
"Goodnight Master Mott, Gendry. I can't wait to have you with us, I'll see you in a few years!" Orys said, jumping out of his seat and patting the boy across the back hard, sending him stumbling. The Crown Prince strode out with purpose, leaving a his younger brother standing there dumbfounded.
As he stepped outside the weirwood doors, Orys could only think of his bastard siblings scattered throughout the realm. He knew his father was quite the...womanizer before he married his mother. After her death, the number of women he bedded had dwindled a great deal, but still, most people didn't have access to Moon Tea.
'I'm just a child with barely-passable sixth-year magic. With no real power a court, no followers, no spies, no allies...nothing. But that will change...I promise. Give me time, I promise I'll find all of you, we'll all be together. Gendry, Mya and Edric, and god-knows how many more of you, I'll take care of all of you, I promise...'
A/N: Looks like he's planning to bring Robert's Bastards together and unite them. Let's just hope this won't be another case of the Great Bastards and the Blackfyres shall we?
