#queenvsbarton

there have been moments where khonshu threatens to leave marc to die if he doesn’t follow his orders, so this would be an effective way to both reveal the khonshu’s ulterior motives & characterize jake… hmmmm…

That’s SO valid of you.

it’s emotional and not really funny because I’m full of emotions but oh well

[+ ao3]

When Davos is with him, they develop the habit of walking outdoors together. They enjoy the time truly alone, even when they don’t talk about things, even when it’s storming. Davos does remark that the Stormlands’ weather suits him, just as the House Baratheon words do, but Gendry does try not to be a man known for fury, even more because he’s consistently less sure of who he really is, who he’s supposed to be. Davos and the Starks were the only family who had cared for him, the only people he wanted as family, and that was not as he’d like it to be.

He had Davos at his side, though, most of the time, and clothes from Sansa, and occasionally they would write each other. Bran’s letters were almost entirely business, though, and Gendry has yet to decide to ask him to find Arya, to see if she’s doing well. He’d once written that “she would find her way home, having borne her own happiness”, but Gendry was not someone who knew how to interpret what was meant by that. Surely if something notable happened, Bran would alert the realm, wouldn’t he?

The hateful reflection of Robert having won the war and lost Lyanna, in more ways than one - as he was sat now in a castle he’d never known while Arya sailed to gods-know-where - was not lost on Gendry.

Many days, he wishes it were. Even before he knew of the truth of his birth, he’d not wanted to be his father, and yet here he was.

And then, suddenly, one day…there, too, is she.

It’s one of the rare days of peace in the bay when their conversation is cut short by the view of her sails, grey direwolf sigils rustling in the little wind there was as the ship comes closer and closer to shore. He and Davos barely meet each other’s eyes before rushing down to the docks. It’s Davos who first smiles as he moves to assist the crew, and the dockworkers, in bringing them ashore. Gendry, though, shrugs off a few addresses from the end of the dock, too busy trying not to be stunned into only staring at her, his feet stuck against the heavy sand, to act as anyone’s lord.

For a moment or two she’s giving orders in what he thinks is Braavosi, before one rough sentence in the common tongue, “have you got her?”

Arya turns, then, finally - finally - starting to walk towards the shore. Lighter summer clothing, longer hair, and sun-colored skin show how radiant she really is, and he can’t imagine he’s ever been happier to get one of her small, crooked smiles.

“Milord,” she says, tone light but accent still heavy from wherever she’d been, and he lets himself smile for real.

“My lady.”

He’s opened his mouth again, to welcome her to Storm’s End, when a clattering of metal comes from down the dock, followed by a small “ouch.” Arya sighs, pressing her eyes shut for a moment before turning away from him again and running down to the source of the sound. Gendry still might as well be mounted in place, but Davos, for his part, is there, his incomplete hand stretched out towards a tiny child who looks to have toppled over a bucket. Arya crouches down by the girl after Davos has helped her up, pushing some of her messy hair back behind her shoulders. Messy black hair, he notes, and his heart jumps. The workers all around, save for the one immediately behind the girl, are continuing with their tasks as though nothing of great significance has happened, and yet Gendry is insurmountably certain his entire life has just changed.

The girl puts her arms out, and Arya scoops her up like it’s the most familiar motion in the world, cradling her against her chest, then loudly remarking that she smells like fish.

Arya turns them towards Davos.

“Shireen, this is Ser Davos. You remember him from my stories about home? Can you thank him for helping you?”

Shireen.

Shireen nods, then curls into Arya’s shoulder, having not said a word.

“Oh, that’s no thanks!” Arya exclaims teasingly, and Gendry catches that Davos is beaming.

The two of them meet eyes, sharing their realization of what’s just happened.

“I’ll go be sure the castellan is getting ready for you and your crew,” Davos says, his composure still somehow intact.

“Thank you, Davos.”

“It’s good to see you here, Lady Arya. And to meet you, little Shireen.”

He turns away, and Arya chuckles as she moves to follow him, the sound almost a scoff.

“She’s been so excited about coming here for weeks, and now she’s bashful,” she says as she approaches Gendry again, half an explanation and yet none at all. The little girl peeks out at him curiously, though, and he’s truly unsurprised by the name, for the resemblance to him is obvious.

“I can’t blame her. Don’t think I know what to say, either.”

He tries not to sound hurt, but the sadness that creeps into Arya’s expression shows him he’s failed in that regard, even if only a bit.

“We can talk tonight, though, alone. In the meantime, I should show you two around, no?”

🎉🎉💛💛💛😁

it’s illegal to be both a habs fan and a leafs fan. trust me i’ve been on the run for 6 years just because i wore a habs hoodie over a leafs shirt