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I shouldn’t be here, this is the worst idea ever, those thoughts ran threw his head. The Stark ball wasn’t a place for him, but why tell does it feel so right to have the youngest Stark girl in his arms. They moved so gracious over the floor and he heard the whispers around him.
“Who is that?” and “Have you any idea from which house he is?”, “He is like a mystery knight, all in black.” And his favorite: “She has been dancing with him the whole night.”
How he did happen to be in this situation will be told in this story.
-
Once upon a –yes this story is like a fairytale, so it is supposed to start like this – Once upon a time a man fell in love with a beautiful girl. The girl was like a blue winter rose, the beauty and strength of the North were a part of who she was. She was also smart, feisty, had a feeling for justness, but was also willful and maybe a little bit naïve and selfish. Yes the princess of the North wasn’t without flaws and she maybe wasn’t the most beautiful woman, but this man thought she was. He was in love, but not with the princess herself. He was in love with the idea of her and thus he proposed to her father. He got what he wanted, he was betrothed to the girl he loved.
The man also had a lot of flaws; he found his pleasure in drinks and woman. Before he was betrothed he had already fathered a bastard girl and he enjoyed other women even when he was betrothed to his love. His love knew about his activities with other women and knew he would never stop. The desire of the man could never be sated, even not by her. His lusts were too high. She knew he was a good man even with his flaws and she would do her duty and marry this man.
One day there was a tourney, with fearless knights and beautiful ladies. The prince was present to compete and his sick wife even came to Harrenhall to attend the tourney. She was sick, but the woman was still lovely, but there were a lot of lovely ladies that day. The beautiful lioness with blond curls, or the-Lady-in-Waiting the daughter of the star and of course the blue rose daughter of the North.
The prince won the tourney and had the honor to crown the love of beauty. Everyone would expect that he would crown his Dornish wife, but he gave the petals to the Northern beauty. She maybe wasn’t the most beautiful, but she had something that the men loved. Not only the man who was in love with her, but also the prince. He took her away from home and her betrothed, to keep her for himself. After the King, the father of the Prince killed her father and brother, the war started. The man she loved was dishonored and wanted to get her back, her young brother and friend of the man in love with her, helped him and marched to the capital. Houses chose sides and battles were held. The Prince who had kept the beauty in a tower had to help his father to save the city.
He died in battle. She died on her bed of blood. The man who was in love became King.
-Oh no, don’t worry this is only the beginning of the story. The fairytale still needs to start-
“Wake up mom, please.” Tears were running over the boys cheeks. His mom needs to wake up, the man she had been with that night was already gone. “Please mom, please.” He was pleading for her to get up, for her eyes to open. He turned around when a woman came in, she owned the brothel. She put her fingers to his mother’s neck and after a few seconds shook her head.
“I’m sorry boy, she is gone.” She put a shoulder on the boy, who was clinging to his mother. The girl was young with beautiful blond curls; it was a pity that she died from the alcohol to never wake up again.
“No no mom please wake up.” He crawled next to her trying to put her arm around him, to crawl into her, hoping she would steer and opened her eyes.
“I’m sorry boy, you need to go.” The world was though and no one would take care of the young boy who was barely four. The brothel was no place for him and the room would go to a new woman who could make money, there was no place for the boy. The woman dragged the crying boy from the body. He desperately tried to get a grip on her, but to no avail. The woman dragged him away and the silent sisters filled the room.
Down in the common room stood a man; he was disguised and had a strange voice. The adults were talking and he just wanted to go back to his mother.
“Come boy, you’ll come with me.” The man with the hood and strange voice said he couldn’t even see his face. He didn’t want to come with the man, but he didn’t have a choice. Before he walked out the brothel he brushed away his tears, he would be strong and no one would know of his moment of weakness.
The street of steel was busy and the heat of the forges could be felt from outside, the boy was already sweating. He followed the man and watched out that no one would hit him. They reached the top of the street and walked into one of the forges. It was hot inside and there was a man standing in the smithy.
“Is this him?” the man pulled one of his arms up, walked around him and observed him. “How old is he?”
The man with the strange voice answered for him, “He has seen four name days.”
The smith grumbled, “He is younger than the boys I normally take. But he looks strong for his age, he will do.”
The man with the strange voice turned to him and even when he was small, he couldn’t see his face, “Ok Gendry this is Master Mott, from now on you will apprentice for smith under him. Work hard, only special boys get such an opportunity.
-
It was only eight years later that the first man came and asked him questions. The one who spoke with him was the hand of the King. The boy knew his courtesies and was proud of the complement he got for his helmet. It was one of the first things he had made from scraps and it was his.
It was only a moon later that the hand came back. He took the boy with him to the palace, the home of the King. The boy was brought in the throne room, where the King was seated. He knelt down and curtsied as proper as he could. The King was a fat man and seemed to be well in his cups, his blue eyes looked dull and the black hair started to turn grey. The boy looked down until he was ordered to look up. He doubted, he was low born, not allowed to look up. Before he could decide what he had to do, the hand already held his face up by his chin. The King narrowed his eyes and then started laughing. Gendry cringed from the inside, but didn’t show it and looked down again.
“There is no doubt. And he is a smith?” The boy nodded barely and the hand answered for him. “So he knows how to wield a hammer! Thank you Jon. After recognizing Mya and already accepted Edric, I had to accept him, he is the oldest.”
Gendry didn’t understand he crunched his forehead and thought what the King meant. They were talking about him, that was clear, but he didn’t follow what they were saying. And who are Mya and Edric?
“What is your name boy?”
“Gendry.”
“Well Gendry, “he looked to the writer in the corner and nodded to him, “This will be documented. I will claim you as my bastard son; from now on you will have the name Waters and you will have a place in my household as a royal smith.”
The boy’s head shot up, even when he wasn’t allowed to do that. He was shocked and he shook his head. He was just Gendry; he couldn’t be the son of the King. He didn’t want to be a Waters; he just wanted to be Gendry. But it was all true.
-From that day on the life of the boy changed.-
Mott was still his master but they got the name of Royal smith, since they forged steel for the King. After his first encounter he didn’t see much of the King, they only got orders. How his Master had to forge Lion’s Tooth sword for prince Joffrey Baratheon and Gendry had to finish it, balance it out. It was a beautiful sword and he hoped that the Prince would handle it with care.
He had chambers in the castle, the Red Keep. He never went out the way, because he knew that he would get lost in the big castle. He didn’t even stayed in the castle that much. In the first few weeks he had stayed there almost every night, but the walls were cold and the whispers loud and it didn’t feel like home. Even the featherbed wouldn’t convince him to sleep there instead of the cot in Tobho Mott’s smithy.
When he didn’t come to his chambers for a moons turn he received a Royal invitation for dinner. He didn’t want to go, but his Master told him he couldn’t refuse such an over and so he went.
He asked the Prince about his sword, but the boy only sneered at him and the Queen pulled him behind her skirts. Telling him that his bastard blood was not worthy. He just looked to the floor and apologized, he never looked into the eyes of the blond Queen and Prince Joffrey again.
His father was to drunk and clapped him on his shoulder a little too hard, so he flinched. He didn’t spoke a word just nodded and looked at his plaid.
From then on every other moon’s turn he was invited for dinner.
The younger Princes would smile to him and he would cautiously return the favor. The young Prince Tommen one time introduced him to Ser Pounce and Lady Whiskers and Gendry thanked him for showing his cats. This went on for years and his father started to talk to him about whores, women and marriage. Gendry wasn’t interested. He only wanted to make good steel and his Master also had no wife and didn’t spend coin on whores as far as Gendry knew. He once had a wife and didn’t want replacement or that is what he told him.
“The Starks are giving a ball for betrothing both his daughters.” The King bellowed.
The Queen sneered: “Just because he could never find a betrothal for the infamous wild Stark daughter.”
Gendry didn’t really paid attention, “You are also coming boy.” It took a moment for Gendry to notice he was talking to him. His eyes widened and the Queen protested that he was not from Royal blood and had no title.
“He will not be a part of the feast woman, Ned would want to see him, he is my spitting image.” Gendry didn’t know who Ned was and he didn’t want to belief he was the fat King’s spitting image. “I also heard the Starks have a bastard, Gendry could make a friend.
-Gendry didn’t want to make a friend-
The journey was long and Gendry felt unsure on the horse. He never had ridden a horse and after a day’s ride his muscles ached and the next morning he could barely walk. He was thankful for the horse then.
The queen was seated in a carriage with the young Princess and Prince. Prince Joffrey rode up front just behind his father. Gendry rode behind the carriage, he was a disgrace and so he travelled between the small folk. Most of who rode mules, wagons that were pulled by big work horses or by foot. He felt better between them than with the royal family, but on the horse of the royal stables he still stood out.
The first day that he was able to walk he offered two small girls to sit on the horse. They were so excited. He walked next to the horse and welcomed the feel of his feet on the earth. They were already well into the Riverlands and soon they would reach the lands of the North, the lands of Winter.
When they arrived there was a huge welcome party, Gendry was no part of it. He didn’t want to be. He didn’t really know where he was wanted. His father the king was nowhere to be seen, the Queen and Princes and Princess were already inside, just like the Lords and Ladies that had traveled with them. From all over the realm Lords and Knights came to Winterfell, where they normally never would go, but they all wanted to tight themselves to the Starks by marriage.
The courtyard was bustling with servants, someone had taken his horse already and the small folk with whom he had traveled stayed in Winter Town. He walked around and then he heard a familiar sound and walked to the known heat, it felt like home. He reached the Amory and found an older smith at work. It took a moment for the man to notice him. “Who are you?”
“I am sorry ser.” He lowered his head. “I heard the sound of your hammer. I am a smith myself.”
“Are you now?”
Gendry nodded and looked at the man. “Aye I come from King’s Landing. My master is Tobho Mott from the Street of Steel.”
Mikken gave him a look over a bit suspicious, but then he gave a small smile. “He is a good smith. What’s your name boy?”
“Gendry,” he waited a moment, he always forgot, he was now more than just Gendry, “Gendry Waters.”
Mikken didn’t say anything of his bastard status, “If you want you can look at some of the work.”
“It would be an honor.” Gendry looked at the swords that had been crafted, at armor and horseshoes. One particular weapon caught his attention. “A Braavosi sword?”
“For the youngest Stark girl.”
Gendry wondered what Prince Joffrey would think of a woman with a sword. He would find it outrageous. Gendry liked it. His whole world exists of the anvil, hammers and creating swords.
In the days they waited for the latest guest Gendry had spend his time in the Armory. He helped Mikken and he learnt some knew things about the Northern weapons and smithing ways. There were slight differences.
One day the King came in followed by a big man, he was still shorter than his father. But he stood stout and he had a cold icy look. The King introduced Gendry as his bastard son and Mikken looked up with big eyes, Gendry never mentioned that. Lord Stark greeted him politely and Gendry courtesies back as best he could. Then they left and everything went back to normal.
He met Lord Stark’s bastard, Jon Snow, who was claimed when he was just a babe. Gendry couldn’t imagine growing up in a castle. Jon Snow was going to join the Night Watch and even asked Gendry if he would think about it. But the North is not his place, it is to cold and icy and the lands of winter didn’t warm up to him. He told that he would think about it. Maybe if King’s Landing would be too much and the whispers of court to dangerous.
The day of the feast was there and Mikken was invited to the party and so the Armory was closed. Gendry was ordered to stay in his room. Joffrey had threatened him that he would notice if Gendry had left it. He was not welcome on the masked ball.
Joffrey had worn the yellow of Baratheon and the Red of Lannister. His mask had been red with golden studs and his green eyes sneered through. It didn’t matter that it was a masked ball, everyone would recognize the Prince, he even wore a crown decorated with stags and lions.
Gendry was bored in his own room, while he heard the music and laughter from the great hall. Then he felt a wind coming in through the window and he wanted to stand up to close it. He fell down again, because of what he saw.
A woman was sitting in the windowsill, but it was not really a woman. The creature was small and had a kind of brown skin with lighter spots, large ears but the eyes caught his attention. The red eyes with vertical pupils reminded him of animal eyes, like a predator. “What are you?”
The voice sounded pure, like he imagined the maiden would sound. “I am of the ones who sing the song of earth. Better known as the children.” Gendry blinked and couldn’t really process what was happening, he must be dreaming. “The Old Gods watch over you, Andal.”
“Accept our magic and join the feast as you deserve to be.” In a moment the creature started singing in a tongue Gendry couldn’t understand and there he saw how the creature weaved garments fit for a Lord from seemingly nothing.
“But how?”
“Don’t question and don’t tell. No one is supposed to hear. Make sure you don’t get caught and before the moon goes down you need to be back in your room and your garments turn to leaves.”
The creature was gone and now Gendry was left with the black tunic, breeches and cloak. The black mask was simple and he liked the look of all of it on him. It might be a dream, a good dream and he would never spite the Gods, even if they weren’t his. And so he made his way down to the great hall where the feast was in full swing.
He walked through the room full of Lords and Ladies. Not only the Stark girls would find matches here, all houses took the opportunity to find a betrothed. The Stark girls were fortunate enough to be able to choose theirs.
He enjoyed the food and drinks, he enjoyed to fit in. He then heard something behind him. The girl had a knife in her sleeve and Gendry saw how she wanted to charge the man, now he saw the red and yellow, Prince Joffrey. He now also heard the sound of his whining voice. “I wanted your sister, the pretty one. But she is all over that crippled rose.” Before the girl would kill the heir to the Iron Throne, Gendry had to do something. Not because he liked the Prince, but because the girl would get killed if she even harmed the Prince. But the Prince already walked away after she threw an insult at him. Gendry couldn’t hold in his chuckle.
“What are you looking at?” The grey eyes that were framed by a white mask looked at him, her eyes narrowed.
“I mere enjoyed your language. I wished more people would use it against him.” He said and then the girl smiled.
“Well he is a little shit.”
“Aye he is.” Gendry chuckled again and the girl punched his shoulder. But then she put her arm on him.
“A Lord is coming and I am already sick of this feast.”
Gendry nodded he didn’t know what to say to her. He never talked with high born ladies except for the Princess. He also didn’t know why she minded he Lords and not him. Then he remembered the blade again. “Can I see it?”
“What?” she looked at him startled.
“Your blade.”
She narrowed her eyes again and removed her hand from his arm. He missed her heat already. “You want to take it from me?”
“No off course not. I just want to look at it.” She cautiously handed him the blade. He observed the steel, the handle was a snarling wolf and he recognized Mikken’s mark. It was amazing work. He gave it back to her. “It is beautiful work. Make sure you never let anyone take it away from you. It fits you.”
That made her laugh, her hand was back and it pleased Gendry. He shouldn’t be here. How dare he be here. “Don’t you think it is unladylike of me to have a blade. To even wear it to a feast?”
He shook his head. “No not at all. You look ever the lady to me.”
She punched him in the arm for that, he rubbed the spot but he chuckled in response. “Don’t call me a Lady.”
“As M’lady commands.”
She punched him in the shoulder and then dragged him to the dance floor. “Dance with me, stupid.”
And so he ended up dancing the rest of the night with the youngest Stark daughter. Every lord that tried to take over the dance was shooed away by her. He was the mystery knight on the ball and he knew it would result in gossip. The evening was almost to an end, the first people retired and he knew he had to leave to. Before the Royal family would notice his absence from his chambers and his presence on the ball.
The grey eyes of Arya, she had asked him to call her that shone beautifully. She looked at him and smiled. “You wouldn’t take away my sword and dagger would you?”
“No one should ever take away your weapons; they would take away who you are.”
“I never believed in love.”
“Me neither.” He spoke true. He never loved anyone. Never liked a girl and it was bittersweet that he could never have her. “But I think I could have loved you.”
“Could have?” she looked confused.
He let go of her arms and she almost wanted to grab him, he saw. He loosed the necklace he had worn for more than ten years and two winters. She looked up when he tied it around her neck. “This is a token of my love. It is very dear to me.”
‘She smiled, “I should give you something to.” She leaned up and then he felt her lips on his. It was just a chaste kiss, but for him it felt like the whole world stopped turning and Arya Stark was the only thing that mattered.
He then noticed how people were retiring and on his sleeve a leave appeared. ‘Your clothes will turn to leaves’. His eyes widened. “I have to go.”
“What?” She looked startled. She was just as affected by the kiss as he and she still was recovering.
“I am sorry.” And then he ran away. He knew she would follow, so he needed to be faster. As quick as he appeared on the feast out of nothing as quick he had disappeared.
In his room the clothing turned to leaves and then to ashes. He lay down in his bed and even when the night was the best night in his life it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
The boy didn’t know how the girl clutches the necklace in her sleep. The bull that was crafted was almost marked in her fingers. She had never wanted to marry and she had wanted to run from the feast all night when everyone knew that the Lords wanted to be chosen by her Lady Sister, not by her. But for this man, who didn’t mind her having a blade up her sleeve and didn’t mind her language. He even made her feel beautiful for the first time in her life, maybe more beautiful than her sister.
-
“Ned I wished to join our houses. But it seems your daughters are not interested in Joffrey and he is more interested in a bloody rose.” The King said while still drunk from the night afore.
“I gave my daughters the right to choose. I want them to be happy. I am sorry that is not with your son.” He wasn’t really sorry at all. He didn’t trust King’s landing; wolves were not made for the South. Even when Sansa wanted the Tyrell, she was more Tully and the Reach was friendlier than court, Ned was sure.
“So who did your daughters choose?”
“Sansa the oldest-”
“The pretty one? Like your wife?” the King interrupted.
“She takes after my wife yes,” ignoring the pretty part. “She chooses the heir to the Reach, Willas Tyrell.”
“So we are linked through the Tyrells are we?”
“I guess we are your Grace.”
“And who is going to be the Lord to tame your wild daughter?”
“We will hear that now.”
Lord Stark was seated with King Robert and some Northern lords, when the doors opened and the youngest Stark daughter walked in.
“You wanted to see me father?” she felt nervous for some reason and watched by the eyes of many men. Men who wanted her to choose their sons, but they also knew she wouldn’t.
“I want to know who you choose for your betrothed. So we can announce your and Sansa’s upcoming weddings. You found someone, I hope?”
She gave a small smile and nodded, “yes father I found a man I want to wed.” She saw how her father almost signed. She had been against it for so long. The ball had been a compromise. One that turned out good, mostly. “The problem is I didn’t catch a name before he left in haste. He wore no arms and I got no name. The only thing I have is this necklace.” She grabbed it and felt solace in the feeling of steel on her skin.
“How are we suppose to find him then?” One of the Lords shouted and after some murmurs, Lord Stark silenced everyone. Before he spoke up, she did.
“He had the bluest eyes I have ever seen. Darker than the blue of the Tully’s like mother, Robb and Sansa. And his hair was black like coals. He was tall and had broad shoulders and he wore black. Like a mystery knight.”
The Greatjon spoke up, “You say he wore black. He might be a brother sworn.”
From then on Lord Stark was looking for the man with the bluest eyes and black hair as coals, who had given his daughter a bull necklace. He would be his daughter’s husband.
But no one was to find out it was Gendry.
The Queen was complaining about the insult that none of the daughters choose Joffrey. The Prince was happy with his rose though. While everyone was still in Winterfell they wedded Sansa Stark and Willas Tyrell in the Gods Wood and the Sept in Winterfell.
The King announced that everyone would travel to High Garden with Lady Sansa and that there his son will marry the Tyrell rose. Everyone was in chaos by this news. High Garden needed to prepare for a huge feast and host in short time. Some found it an insult that the heir would marry outside the capital. But in the end the word of the King would be followed by all and so the host moved.
Gendry said his goodbye to his fellow bastard Jon Snow, who went to the Wall to join the Night’s Watch together with his Uncle.
Arya said goodbye to her brother Jon Snow, who went to the Wall to join the Night’s Watch together with his Uncle.
Gendry never told everyone about magic and that he saw one of the children of the forest.
Arya prayed for her mystery knight in front of the weir wood tree and she felt like a silly girl.
She talked about the bull necklace when she rode between all the different people. She asked people if they had seen the necklace before, if they knew who made it. But especially who wore it before her. She rode with the Northern men, she rode with her father, she rode with the small folk and she even rode with the carriage of her sister when they almost reached High Garden.
She had a bit of a muscle ache, but she was only in the carriage because Sansa asked. They would go separate ways after that. She shared the carriage with Jeyne and the Princess also was seated in the carriage. Her mother wanted a private moment with her daughter-to-be the rose of High garden.
Everyone was gushing over how happy Sansa must be and it made Arya feel sick, but she also felt a bite of jealousy. She wanted what Sansa had, she had taste love and now she wanted it more and it seemed gone forever.
“I am sorry Arya. We should be more considered.” Sansa said.
Arya just shook her head, “No it is okay. This is your moment.”
“But it should be for both of us. I hope you find your mystery knight.”
Myrcella smiled sweetly, “It would be so romantic if you found him. Do you think you will find him?”
Sansa chastised the younger girl, “Off course she will. He will come back for her.”
“I don’t know,” Arya admitted. “He only gave me this necklace and no one recognized it.”
She showed the necklace to the Prince whose eyes widened at the sight of the bull necklace. “You know from who this is, don’t you?” Sansa said immediately and the Princess denied but then signed in defeat.
Arya finally felt hope again, that she would find her knight, find her love. “Who is it, please I need to know.”
Myrcella looked at her, “It is my brother’s.”
Arya shook her head, “No it can’t be Joffrey-”
Before she could talk further, Myrcella interrupted.”It’s not Joffrey’s.” They all looked confused now and then she knew she had to continue. “It is my half-brother’s.”
“A bastard.” Sansa gasped.
“He was not allowed to attend the feast; I never thought he would dare do it.” Myrcella explained.
Arya smiled even more, “That is perfect.” Now everyone looked at her in confusion. “He has no title, no claims. I could stay in Winterfell. What is his name?”
Myrcella looked startled, “He is a smith Lady Arya.”
“I wanted to know his name not what he does.”
“His name is Gendry,” Myrcella said, still not really following Lady Arya. “Gendry Waters.”
“Gendry.” She said and smiled. It sounded good. “Where is he now?”
“He rides in the rear most of the time.”
Only the she wolf would dare to love a bastard, but he was a royal bastard. It was not hard to convince her father since he wanted her to be happy. The second day in High Garden she was summoned to her father.
“I have discussed your choice with the King.” The King looked extremely happy.
“It seems like we still will join our houses Ned.”
But when the boy was brought in he had his eyes downcast. He didn’t dare look at Lord Stark or the beautiful and feral Arya Stark, he was sure that he would be punished.
“Boy,” the King bellowed and Gendry looked up to him. “Do you want to marry Arya Stark?” Gendry couldn’t be more surprised and then his gaze went to the Lady in question. She looked even more beautiful without the white mask and he quickly looked away, while his ears started to get red.
“I am too lowborn to be kin to M’Lady high.” He said, just like was supposed to. But his heart told him yes. But he was wrong to want that. He was wrong to dare hope he had a chance.
“But we could arrange something. I could acknowledge you as Baratheon and give you some lands in the hot South and our houses would finally be joined.”
“No.” He aid immediately and the girl felt her heart drop and the King looked at him with Narrowed eyes. Lord Stark just observed him with his cool gaze. “I wouldn’t want that. I am no Baratheon. I am just Gendry.” The King wanted to speak but he quickly continued. “Lady Arya Stark is as beautiful as a blue winter rose and as feral as the dire wolf of the Starks. It would be a slight to make her Baratheon.”
“What are you getting at boy?” The King asked now almost impatient.
“I would be the luckiest man of all Westeros if I would be to marry Lady Arya Stark. But I would want to take her name, since I have no name to give, since I am no one. She could make me someone. I would be okay with staying in Winterfell.” Even if the lands of winter were no lands for him. The cold winds were too harsh. But the Old Gods seem to watch over him and it felt save to stay in their reach. In King’s Landing they had no power and it also had never been a home.
“A man never takes a woman’s name.” The King laughed as if he was crazy.
But Arya Stark looked at him and knew she had made the best choice. He seems to know her and they only met briefly and he wants to give her everything she wanted. He would not even take her name of her, not even her home.
“Yes,” She said softly but then repeated a bit louder. “Yes I am sure I want to marry you. You can have my name and my house. It seems I finally have found love.”
So it had been done. It might be foolish and impossible, a bastard boy who took a Lady’s name. Some Lords took it as a slight, but had no choice to accept since even the King accepted it. Their houses were joined but not in the way he had expected it. A generation later and the Stark name was taken by a boy of Baratheon blood, not the Baratheon name by a Stark girl.
And they finally loved each other.
-But the real ending for a fairytale should be-
They lived happily ever after.
A lot happened in their life, but they lived and were happy with each other’s love.