Chapter 5: The Bastard and The False Lord

King's Landing

Sansa opened her windows and the summer breeze hit her face. A smile made its way to her face, and she closed her eyes. King's Landing was warm and different, and it was good to hear other birds than the ravens and the crows.

Maybe it won't be that bad, she thought. Adapting to the place would certainly take time, but she could do it. She was a Stark and a Tully. If her Mother could go live in the North, she could certainly live here in the South.

And there was also a added advantage; Arya had finally agreed to stay. After much persuading from herself and their Father, her sister had finally consented to the plan. Sansa couldn't be happier. She loved her sister, and it would be less lonely with Arya by her side. She was surprised though because she hadn't thought Arya would agree. But for some reason, she did, and it was enough.

Sansa knocked on Arya's door. Once. Twice. Thrice. Finally, the dark haired girl opened the door and peeked out. Her face changed into one of relief when she saw her.

"It's only you." She smiled. "Come on in."

Sansa walked into the room and the door clicked behind her.

"Lady Sansa." She turned and saw Aegon behind her, hidden by the door, grinning at her.

"Prince Aegon," she uttered in surprise, "what are you doing here?"

"I needed to see your sister."

"Why?"

"She...," Aegon hesitated and looked at Arya. By the look on her face, Sansa knew she was trying to hide a smirk; she was biting her lip.

She noticed the cloth lying on her bed.

"What's that?" Before Arya could even attempt to hide it, Sansa strode to her bed and took the cloth in her hand.

"Sans-"

The cloth fell and revealed a dagger. It was shiny and new and Sansa held it carefully, not letting the edges hurt her. The hilt had a grey direwolf on it; in it's mouth a red ruby.

"Aegon gifted me that," Arya said, her voice low. She was probably afraid Sansa won't let her have it. "It's Valyrian steel," she added.

Sansa put the dagger on the bed as carefully as she had taken it, and turned to Aegon with a glare.

"Why are you providing my sister with murder weapons?"

Aegon smiled teasingly, and winked at Arya. "Your sister wanted a sword. You should thank me all I got her was a dagger."

"But why should you get her such things? It is not proper for a Lady-"

"I am no Lady!" Arya exclaimed.

"I've seen her with weapons, Lady Sansa. She won't hurt herself, I'm sure. And it is for her protection."

"But Prince Aegon-"

"Stop, both of you!" They turned to Arya who rolled her eyes at them. She turned to Aegon. "Why don't you escort Sansa to the breakfast table? I will follow you after getting dressed." Only then Sansa noticed Arya was still in her nightgown. She shook her head and sighed.

Before Sansa could protest, Aegon offered her his arm, and Sansa, like any other Lady, had no choice but to accept. She didn't leaving without glaring at Arya one last time, though.

"Are you still cross?" Aegon asked, as they walked in the hallway.

"I worry about Arya." Sansa said, "Back home, Father was the only one who could tame her. She likes to get in trouble."

"Your sister is a spirited person. You don't have to worry, though."

Sansa nodded and smiled.

"Although," she looked at him. "A dagger as a gift is too much, don't you think?"

"I wanted to get her something as a gift, and she asked for a sword. I would have gotten her one, but decided against it the last moment. I think the dagger suits her."

"Such things can only suit Arya," Sansa mused.

"You know what would suit you?" Aegon stopped and turned to her. Their eyes met and locked on each other's. Sansa felt a blush creep up to her cheeks. Slowly, Aegon tilted her chin up with his finger. Her skin burned where he touched her. "Roses," he whispered.

Aegon leaned closer, their eyes still locked. His gaze occasionally fell on her lips and she gulped. "The red would match perfectly with your hair." Sansa didn't know when her grip on his arm tightened or when their bodies came in such close proximity to each other. She was lost in those purple eyes.

Aegon smiled and she broke out of her reverie, stepping back.

"We should get going," Aegon said, and she nodded. She didn't look at him; she could still feel the heat in her cheeks.

Sansa broke her fast with the royal family, Arya as always being the last to enter. She noticed Aegon look at her, but she maintained her composure. She didn't want to act like a blushing maid infront of so many people. She decided to talk to Arya as soon as they finished eating. Whatever the Prince says, Arya was still a woman and a Lady. A dagger had no business with women.

She didn't get the chance though. As soon aas they finished eating, Lyanna asked Jon to show Sansa the part of the garden that had been recently renovated. Lyanna proposed to show Arya around, and both of them walked away. Aegon excused himself as soon as they did, saying that he had to go somewhere. He doesn't enjoy these things, Sansa decided.

After much walking, Sansa sat down on a bench, Jon taking his place by her side.

"King's Landing is quite appealing, I must admit."

"It is," Jon agreed. "I am pleased you like it, My Lady."

Sansa smiled at him. "You will rule all of the Seven Kingdoms one day. Don't you get nervous?"

"It is my destiny to do so."

Sansa's fingers caressed the flowers near her; the roses. She remembered Aegon's words, and pushed them away with quite difficulty. For now.

"What about this marriage? Is it your destiny too?"

"I...," Jon hesitated. "I think it is my duty." After a moment, he added, "We must love each other for this marriage to work."

"Maybe we will," she said. "Maybe..."

"Maybe we won't," he finished her words.

Sansa heard laughing and standing up, glanced around. Jon stood up as well. She saw the Queen with her sister. Lyanna was spinning a little boy up in her arms. Arya was at her side, smiling. Sansa knew she didn't like the company of little children very much, but she seemed pleased to give company to their Aunt. Lyanna didn't look like a Queen at the moment. She looked younger, a maiden almost.

"She is beautiful," Sansa commented, looking at her Aunt.

"She is," Jon replied, his voice deep. "So beautiful." Sansa frowned and followed Jon's gaze.

No, he wasn't looking at his Mother. He was staring. At Arya.

"Jon?" She asked, but he didn't hear.

She called his name again and he turned his gaze to her.

"I am sorry," his words fumbled. "I think I am not feeling well."

"It is alright," Sansa said.

"Would you mind if I take your leave?"

"Not at all."

"Thank you, My Lady." He smiled and kissed the back of her hand. Sansa smiled in return. Jon looked Arya's way one last time and went the opposite way.

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"Arya, can I ask you something?"

Arya hummed, without taking her eyes off the book. Sansa had persuaded her to return the dagger to Aegon. But Arya started explaining to her how a dagger could be used for safety, how no harm could possibly come to her from a small blade as that, how a sword would've been much worse, and how it was considered rude to return gifts. Of course, Sansa could never win a debate with Arya, and at last, had no option but to let her keep it. And now here she was, reading a book about how Valyrian steel is forged; Sansa had no clue what the fuss was all about.

"What do you think about Jon?" That seemed to get her attention. Arya closed her book and looked at Sansa, biting her lip.

"He is...," she mused. "Nice."

"Nice?"

"Nice."

"Really?" Sansa raised her brow.

"Why are you asking me about Jon all of a sudden?" Arya asked, now sitting up straight and looking at her curiously.

"Would you punch me if I tell you something?"

Arya frowned. "Go on."

"I think Jon likes you."

Arya's eyes widened and she stood up.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"No, I just think he likes you." Sansa couldn't stop smiling at her sister. "He couldn't stop staring at you."

"It's probably because he thinks I'm ugly and dirty."

"Oh shut up," Sansa exclaimed. "He thinks you're beautiful."

"That is enough." Arya picked up the book. "Don't you have anything better to do, Sansa. He's your betrothed, for God's sake!"

"I know! I was just telling you what I think. I think he really-"

"I am going to my room!" She stormed past her and opened the door.

"Arya!" Sansa called.

"I think maybe you've drank too much wine. Maybe you'll be sober tomorrow morning, and won't say these ridiculous things," Arya said over her shoulder and walked out, slamming the door shut behind her.

Sansa's smile wouldn't leave her lips, and it soon turned to giggling. She was surprised that she wasn't angry at the fact her betrothed seemed to like another woman. She should've been furious, but she wasn't. She tried to remember if she had really drank too much wine; no, she hadn't.

At night she dreamt of a wedding in the snow, a field of roses and haunting purple eyes.

Storm's End

He walked into the hall. Unlike the other time he had been here, it was empty now. The man behind him urged him to walk faster, and he complied. This wasn't a place for him. Why was he here?

The doors opened to another room, and the man pushed him inside. This one was smaller- although bigger than most he'd been in- than the previous one. The man pushed him to his knees.

"My Lord. I have brought him," the man announced. He noticed a few shadows at the corner of the room move, and walk towards him.

The first face he recognized as belonging to the Lord of Storm's End, Stannis Baratheon. He noticed how the Lord was staring at him, and the way his mouth twitched after a few moments.

The other shadow moved and a muscular man appeared out of the shadows. Gendry stared at the man. Was it just his imagination or did the man really look like him?

"The bastard, My Lords."

Stannis approached him first. He tilted his head up by clutching his hair.

"Do you know why you're here?"

Gendry shook his head.

"Do you know who your Father is?" He asked again.

"No, Milord."

"I am," the man beside him roared and Gendry glanced up to look at him. "I am your Father, bastard. Get up."

Gendry stood up.

"Do you know me?" The man asked.

"No, Milord."

Stannis scoffed.

"I am Robert Baratheon," the man replied. "And you are going to be Gendry Baratheon. Tell me, will you swear your allegience to me?"

Gendry gaped at him. Baratheon? He had never known about his Father. His Mother was a whore who had died when he was ten.

Was this really true? He was the son of Robert Baratheon? The nephew of the Lord of Storm's End? He had heard of the exiled Lord, how he had gotten the gift of mercy from the Silver King and fled the Seven Kingdoms to the far East. Maybe not. He's still here.

"Milord," he said. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because there is a war coming, son. And I am going to need all the men I can get. I've heard you make weapons, is it true?"

"Yes, Milord."

"From today," he began, "you are Gendry Baratheon, the only son of Robert Baratheon, and you'll be one of my advisors."

"Isn't that too soon, Robert?" Stannis asked. "This one's still unexperienced. And yet to be trusted."

"But he's my blood," Robert replied. "Tell me, Gendry. You'll get a position in my army, a name and money. All you have to do is swear your allegiance, and you won't be a bastard any more."

How could he refuse? This was everything he would ever want, and it was a thousand times better than working in a forge. Even if he didn't know this man, he had nothing to lose, and so much to gain.

"Yes, Milord. I accept," he replied without hesitation.

Robert nodded and Gendry noticed the hard lines on his face. "But remember, if you betray me, you'll die the most painful death."

"I swear on my Mother's grave, I won't."

"Good. Get up." Stannis ordered the man beside Gendry to take him to a room, and give him clothes.

"Remember Gendry, if you betray me, I'll kill you. And it won't be pleasant."

Gendry nodded and followed the man. He wasn't overambitious. He was just being given a chance to turn his miserable life into a worthy one. He knew the brothers didn't trust him yet. But soon, he'd earn it. Fortune was calling at his door, and he wasn't going to send it away.

Gendry Baratheon. The name didn't sound bad.

A/N: Hey! How are you all? It took me a lot of time to finish this chapter, especially the end part. Yes, the Baratheons have entered the spotlight.

By the way, Stannis is the Lord of Storm's End. Rhaegar wasn't stupid enough to banish all the Baratheons, so he let Stannis keep Storm's End. And of course, he doesn't suspect him now because it's been 20 years since the rebellion. But trust Robert to dig up old graves.

Have a nice day and please review. It means a lot.

P.S. Dammit. I fucked up. It should be Storm's End, not Dragonstone. I don't even know why or how I did that. Thank you so much, reviewer! Or else, I'd wouldn't have realised my mistake. Thanks a lot!