Hi guys!

So finally here is chapter 4! Thanks to all who added me to their favourites - I really appreciate it but I would still love a review ;D! I enjoyed writing this chapter the most so far, felt the most comfortable with it and think it might be the best one sofar, even though I'm relatively happy with chapter 3. I know he's not a main character (yet :D) but I don't think he's irrelevant either so I'm boosting him up :) hope you like what I've done with him^^ Chapter 5 will be up on Saturday the 12.5. latest. I know it sounds rediculously far away and it is, I am aiming for latest the 28th but I don't know if I can really keep it due to the aforementionend RL issues, therefore 12.5. is a promise. Reviews will help speed the process up ^^ I hope you enjoy!

Adored Episode 2 even if it was a bit fast fowarded on the Arya -Gendry revelation ;D - You shouldn't insult people who are bigger than you - but then I couldn't insult anyone - was a perfect addition, stealing that line if there is ever a situation and I have to agree Hotpie was like Hotpie :D - Joe Dempsie plays Gendry brilliantly :)))))

Ok onwards and upwards (I hope)

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters and I am in no way profiting from this FF. They all belong to George R.R. Martin, only the plot post- A Feast For Crows is mine. Some scenes from the HBO Series A Game Of Thrones may be referenced to, these also do not belong to me. (Trust me I wish they did ;D - I really really wish they did T.T )

4. Chapter: Gendry

Stupid wench, it didn't matter whether she lived or died, she was just another lion-loving woman, who would it bother, some father far away, shouldn't have let her play knight if he cared. Then again, she wasn't the fairest; maybe that's what he wanted, for her to get herself killed, so he could name a chosen heir.

Still even thinking it didn't really change how he felt about it, it bothered him, even if it didn't stir anyone else. He'd watched he return to health despite the deep ugly hole in her cheek, even watched her through her delirium, put up with her stupid pleas and calls, thinking he was someone else just so she could be hanged?

He'd lost count the amount of people they had sentenced, lords; ladies; hedgeknights; little lordlings; peasant women; farmers; camp followers; children; it didn't matter eventually, what they had done, be they lions or part of the Red Wedding, or even only suspected to be so. They all looked the same when they were dead, hanging and turning, revolving on their ropes. The camp spent more on rope than food, vengeance was all that satiated Lady Stoneheart, damn everyone else's needs.

For a while he hadn't been much different, wanting to kill everyone whose fault it was, in his mind, for why the situation was the way it was. Anger just kept on smoldering and burning in his chest and if he stopped too long to think about it, it almost consumed him alive. Only in the forge did he find any resemblance of peace, he became a part of the flames and blistering heat. The fire was a part of him and though beating steel until his arm was numb, killing lions and monsters traveling the roads, had calmed the warring storm in him after Lady Stoneheart had arrived, it didn't quench it by any means and he had felt more useful before. When Thoros, Lem, Lord Beric and he had searched, held trials, he had at least felt a little useful, even if it had only fueled his pain and rage.

But then Lord Beric decided he had had enough. He saw a huge wolf in the woods and followed it to the river. There he gave the breath to a corpse, long dead, all because he thought it was meant to be, just because Lord Beric had had enough, his whole world had to change again.

They couldn't believe it when she began to breathe again, it was wrong, the Lightning Lord might have survived whenever he was given the breath, but Catelyn Stark had been dead for so long the dead are rising. Thoros and his God had once appealed to him in some manners but a God that would bring back the dead just to murder it was sorcery and evil.

Stoneheart was a good name, the Hangwoman even better, but she did not deserve the title, mother of Arya anymore. Arya, she'd have said this is stupid, and that I was stupid for not saying anything. He hated thinking of her, she just ran away because she didn't want to believe the truth, too bloody proud and then that bastard stole her. He didn't want to believe any of the stories, the dark whisperings the people hiding in Hollow Hill my lands, he thought in dark amusement, were bringing with them. He knew Rorge had worn the Hound's helm, but was it he or Clegane they referred to, when they spoke in terror of the dark deeds in the saltpans.

Lately though he had begun to ask himself, whether they were any better? They murdered. Catelyn killed in cold blood, not even in a passion or madness, just cold and calculated fury.

Then there was the wench; that scream she gave as Biter began to eat her alive Arya's part to blame for that too, it haunted him. The deep ugly scar it had left, it was a miracle she had survived why not just let her die? Why waste our supplies just to murder her? Her insistent whining, it really irked him when she started calling him Renly, and in such a desperate tone, her constant "Lord" seemed to mock him and then he finally understood why it bothered Arya when he said, "M'lady". I'm no heroic knight, Ser Gendry Waters of Hollow Hill, why did I even bother? I knew, I bloody well knew and still… I'll never even be a master armourer.

His own forge was all he had ever wanted, for such a long time and then his master had sent him away, that had hurt, his mother had died when he was young, the old man was the closest thing he'd had to a father. Just as poxy good as my real father. He hadn't ever really thought of his real father and he had never asked, he didn't want to know, besides it wasn't like he was the only bastard in King's Landing.

Slowly the inn came into view, Willow only had to look at his face to know not to talk to him. Putting his pony into the stables he saw one of the boys hiding in a corner. "What are you doing in here? Where's Jon? It's his turn to clean the stables" "He's, he's, Jon isn't here Ser." "I can see that, where is he?" "Playing probably…", the boy came out of his corner. Despite all the muck and dirt he was covered in, Gendry couldn't help but see the deep gash on the boy's forehead and the dried blood around it. No one's looking after them, they're just turning into brutes, Lem's "punishment" isn't any better.

Glowering darker than usual, he bent down on one knee, beckoning the boy closer, after looking at his wound he asked in a rough voice, "Who did this?" "No one I tripped." "Don't lie, did Jon do this?" "No", the small lad sniffed. "He did, didn't he? That's why you're here doing the stables" "No Ser Gendry, please don't be angry, I like the ponies and it's warm in here, I like doing the stables. Jon didn't do nothin', he didn't please, please Gen, please he's so horrible when he's not playing or in the kitchen, he didn't do it. I fell"

The boy was near tears by the time he had finished, and had tried to hug Gendry, before he abruptly stood up, leaving the youngster shocked and upset. He didn't want the younglings becoming attached to him, they needed to be protected, he could die doing that, they had to grow up faster, war was still around them and winter was already coming. Many of them, maybe even he himself considering the circumstances, wouldn't make it. This has to stop, anger began to unfurl in his chest, the tendrils enflaming and burning through his veins. Storming over to the kitchen, he took the boy by the hand, all but dragging him along too. This argument was going to be different, because it had to be.

"Willow! Get Jon, look at Can!" Shoving the boy by the ruff of his neck, he put him in front of the young girl, "Look at him. He's all beaten up, again. We can't keep bandaging them all up all the time." "Don't shout at me Gendry Waters. What do you expect me to do? Jeyne's here half as oft as not and you keep buggering off all the time." "Why Willow? So you lot can stay alive, there's no point though if they're just going to kill each other. Now where's Jon?" "How am I supposed to know, I'm busy as you can see, now get out my kitchen if you want fed.", with that she tried to hurry him out by thwacking him with her wooden spoon, but he wasn't having any of it. "Willow, I mean it. Where the blazes is Jon? Why are you just letting them run wild?" "I'm only ten, do you think they listen?" Growling and his mood darkening, she uttered the one phrase that she shouldn't have, "I'm not Arya, now get out." "Trust me I know you're bloody well not Arya, she wouldn't let the little ones run riot."

Unfortunately the Jon in question, happened to run into his leg, just at that moment. "You", grabbing the youngster by the scruff, he held him tight, refusing to relinquish his grasp, despite the boy's squirming. "You've been hitting Can again, what did I tell you? Do you want a cuff round the ear? Or should I just hit you like you hit Can." The boy avoided his glower by staring at his feet, "He fell I didn't hit 'im." That earned him a cuff and it wasn't a light one either. "You have to do your part. We all do. So when I tell you to do the stables, do it." The boy just shouted at him as he tried to escape, "What do you do? You leave us. You and Jeyne and Lem, even Thoros. That or you're always in your stupid forge. I hate you. You lied. You said we were safe, but Biter came and you killed him. You made everything bad! There's always blood everywhere." Gendry knelt down and forced the boy's arms by his sides, "I killed him, exactly. He didn't hurt you, think about that woman he did hurt, huh? We all leave to bring back food, and to make the area safe. We need clean stables, so the horses don't get sick, so we can get food. I'm in the forge because that's my job too, to make things we need. We all have jobs to do, Can had a different job to do. Now we have to protect each other." Jon just looked up at him with blank eyes I wasn't made to do this. His anger hadn't subsided but he knew it wasn't Jon's fault or even Willow's. It's Stoneheart's fault.

He went back to the forge and started hammering out the sword again, he had almost finished it and it wouldn't be finished soon enough. He looked at the shield he had made before but it bore no sigil, no paint, no embossing. There was not enough time and he didn't even know what to put on it, he had had an idea when he first thought of it, but that was before everything had changed.

Still beating the blade his thoughts started to stray to areas they shouldn't. He remembered the feeling of splattered blood across his face, warm and sticky, the sight of the body with the spear through his neck. It hadn't been his first kill, but it had been the first he really had had time to think about, before, during and after. The resistance the spear had felt and then the sound it had made, the force of the blow reverberating through his arm, the finality of it. There had been a life in his hands and then it was gone. It made him shiver but nightmares were his constant companions now.

Even now he realized how he lost himself to movements and rhythms, a swing of a hammer or the thrust of a spear, they were all the same to him. Even the blows with the practice blade he had made, from wood and lead, he did in the dead of night when he couldn't sleep. It was the only comfort he felt, the constant aching of his muscles, the thoughtlessness of the actions. It helped burn away everything he didn't want to confront, Stoneheart; Lem; Thoros; the Tickler; Yoren; Arya; me.

Plunging the sword into the bucket of water, it began to hiss and steam, drawing him back to the cold harsh reality. A small sense of pride began to blossom, my first sword, it wasn't nearly as fine master Mott's work, but not half-bad either. It would serve for the purpose he had in mind. A small grin began to spread in spite of himself. It still had to cool, but he withdrew the scabbard he had hidden, and packed together the few treasured possessions he had. He couldn't leave yet, he knew that, especially with no one to look after the little ones, but he would be ready when the time came. For the mean time he had something else to deal with.

The fire that had raged at the sight of Can hadn't died, dwindled yes, but just as much as his nightmares, anger never left him now. Striding over to the stables, he slung his hammer into his belt, This will be the end of it; conviction started to seed itself into an inevitable truth in his mind. He took his pony, the only one left, a horse would have been better, but there weren't many of them left now, most were being ridden but a few others had fallen victim to the growing hunger of the children. The Lions had burnt almost everything in the immediate vicinity. There's nothing left; not here, not in the woods, this stupid war is the reason; the lords and ladies play with our lives like drunken men play with knives and dice. He knew they weren't all the same; Arya and the twit Ned had shown him that, he didn't like Ned at all but in some ways he wasn't that bad.

They all think they can have whatever they bloody well want though, he remember the coy giggles of daughters of certain lords in King's Landing, eyeing him as if he were some possession to be bought for the right price, or won in a competition between the lot of them. Saddling the pony and ridding him in a manner that probably would have made some braver people laugh, he rode as fast as he dared to the cave. He hadn't ever learnt to ride and although he was a lot better than when they first started out, it still looked ungainly when he galloped. Like everything else though he was practicing it, as often as he could. He had a goal and he would eventually achieve it. Even if meant breaking his own principles. He was loathe to part with the children, he knew just how much danger lurked around here now, but this wasn't what he had agreed to, when he declared himself to Lord Beric.

Despite the constant pounding of the hooves beneath his feet, he doubted he'd arrive on time. His frown deepened, the countryside lay out before him but his destination just seemed constantly over the horizon. After what seemed like hours ridding, the river came into view. He had only turned around from it half a day ago, but this time he meant to cross, if he had any luck Thoros would still have her.

Entering the caves, still frightened the animals, but just like the humans living in them, it was living in fear or dying all together. Safe to say most chose life. One of the few refuges took the reins from him, "What are you doing here Ser?" Instead of replying he gruffly asked for the priest's whereabouts. "The trial's begun Ser, they're all down in Judgment Cave." "Trial, don't make me laugh." he muttered under his breath.

Gendry didn't even bother stepping down from the saddle instead he retook the reins and rode as fast as he could around to the other exit, he knew they would hang her for some treason or another. They came into view as did the dawn, standing beneath the crooked willow. Lem had donned the accursed helm, assuming that character once again, he's no longer Lem; he distractedly thought as he rode closer, the noose was already around her neck, he could make out she was trying to talk to her gaoler no use there. Suddenly the boy was twitching in the air and she screamed, "Sword". Still Lem was laughing like a madman.

"Let her down!", Gendry shouted out to him. "Bugger that!" "In R'hollor's name, Lem, release her!" Her body sacked to the ground in a loud thud, the boy was barely moving now, Gendry, leaped off and slammed into the other man, not taking note of who it was, he heard the lad fall to the ground, but unlike Brienne he made no noise. No, he's just boy He knew there wasn't much between them in age, but the few times he had spoken to him he seemed so much younger and entirely forlorn. Running across to the boy, he put his ear to the boy's mouth, he wasn't breathing. In a blind panic he tried to imitate Thoros, he'd seen him do it to Lady Stoneheart it has to work, he tried to breathe the life back into him, he did again and again, as the woman gasped for air and Lem just continued laughing, slamming his fist into the lad's chest out of pure desperation, a glint of hope sprang to life, as he felt the boy's heart leap, breathing into him again, the boy then resumed breathing of his own accord.

Gendry let out a sigh of relief as he leaned back for a second, then he felt a hand yank him up at the back of his neck. Throwing him against the tree, Lem started to bark at him, "Who do you think you are runt? To give me commands? Taken a fancy to her? Like her blonde hair? Reminds you of your whore of a mother? I thought," he didn't get to finish his sentence as Gendry slammed his fist into the Hound's face. He felt something give way, he'd probably broken his nose again, judging by the blood on the back of his hand, he felt Lem let go of him. Quickly escaping his grasp, he turned around to see Jack-be-Lucky. "You heard her, cry 'sword'! You should have stopped him!" "Could've meant anything, why should've I stopped him? My Lady said 'hang them', so we were." "You bloody well knew what sword meant, I know what sword means!" "The runt bust my nose!", Lem finally managed to get out. "Yeah well it's an improvement" "Him and that blasted girl, I'll have'm Jack I swear!", stumbling towards Gendry, Jack stepped between them and put his hand on the aggressor's chest, "Enough of that come on, the lad's right. My Lady will want to see the bitch again, besides we can always hang her again." "And what about the Lion?" Only pausing a second to look at the limp body on the floor, "That's another matter. She best see to that too."

Stalking over to Brienne Lem ignored her panting as he grabbed her by her hair and stormed off after Jack as he barged into Gendry, growling in his ear "This isn't the end of this. Best not sleep light." He knew what he had done was foolish in many ways, but as he saw the blood slowly return to Pod's face, he couldn't help but feel he'd done at least something right these past few months.

Slinging the youth over his shoulder he made his way back into the cave, he could have carried him, but if things went bad, he wanted to be able to reach his hammer. As he began his descent into the dark he turned around once more to look into the bleak but clear dawn, whistling to his pony to follow, he turned back around to face more than just the Hangwoman.

The three of them didn't exchange a single word, only Brienne turned around with frightened and guilty looking eyes, a silent question escaping them as they sought his. Frowning he gave a slight nod, but also rested his hand on his hammer. I better not end up dead, because of her. I managed to survive the Tickler and Harrenhal only to be killed by the wolf's mother. Lem'll want his say too. Maybe it would have been better to let the stupid wench die.

The darkness became all-consuming and he knew they were half way there, unrest and something just as disturbing started tying knots in his stomach. Things have got to change. Repeating the words over and over, he grew closer to a long outstanding confrontation step by step, As hard as steel I'll have to be the picture of his newly finished sword burned into the forefront of his mind and he couldn't help but wonder whether this was a stupid move or not.

As the light of the fire and bluish smoke rose to greet him, he just had to look at the giant woman and think of the boy over his shoulder to harden his conviction. The faces started flashing before his eyes, the boys; the ladies; the terror was always the same. The scene of countless bodies dancing in the air, held up only by their nooses. The wind brushing against the corpses carrying their whispers of accusations in his ears, sometimes they were just cries of pain; anguish; fear; desperation, but he could always hear the voices. It has to change.

Drawing near to Judgment Cave he could hear the faint voice of Thoros, "Was it truly necessary? To kill her? My Lady, we could have ransomed her or even used her to lure the Kingslayer. She bore the royal seal." The rasping, which was Lady Catelyn's voice, rang out and echoed off the walls, "No my Lady, I did not mean to suggest.", interrupted yet again by the cold sounds, he began to stutter, "My Lady I, I would do no such thing. We were a Brotherhood, now we serve you, willingly. I only meant to ask, to ask, what our purpose is?" This time the voice resonated so loud, that even Gendry could make out the meaning of the distorted word, "Revenge".

Lem had entered the mouth of the inner cave, "Well the lion-whore isn't dead, you can thank the interfering little shit for it." The crowd drew round to gaze upon the entering men. Thoros looked over to him with an indecipherable expression on his face. "She cried 'sword'" Gendry gave as a response, his voice gruff but avoiding the glares he could feel. "I ordered them to be hanged." Lady Stoneheart rasped with cold derision in her icy stare. "She said she would do as you commanded. Why kill her?" "She betrayed me", was all the long drawn answer he was given.

He felt his blood begin to boil, "Who hasn't betrayed you? It's war. Your son betrayed the king. War is betrayal." He shouted, forgetting where he was. "How dare you, Jack seize him." Feeling the back of his knees being kicked in, he buckled to the ground, managing to keep Podrick form hitting the ground. "The North remembers. The Freys will bleed and the Lannisters will burn, until they're all dead. I will see their corpses rot and their house fade into oblivion. Joffrey was not the rightful King."

Hands were now pushing him down the ground, the boy was taken from him, as Jack struggled to keep the blacksmith's hands behind his back. "And what about us? Where do we fit in this game? People are dying everywhere. Who killed who? The Lannisters will die, and so will the Freys, but what of their Bannermen? What about the people protecting their homes from wolves and lions?" Lady Stoneheart just kept staring at him, he felt himself blush and lowered his gaze. "I could have your head in a noose too", was the sole reply he was given.

"My Lady, I will serve you, as faithfully as I always have. Before you even knew, I was serving you and yours. Please though, the woman will be punished; she cares for the Kingslayer, killing him will be punishment enough. Blame can kill just as well as rope." With one last hateful glance, she stood up and turned away from the crowd, ere she left completely Lem called out once more, "And what of the boy? Will he live as a squire, or have the death of a lion?" Without even turning around she whispered, "Death, by Ser Gendry's hand, or you can have his head too"

DA-DA-DA-DAAAAAAAH *evil cackle* Please review I'll bake Sigilshaped cookies for you all :D (Chartesuian's tesla moustache cookies -inspired) and I'll update faster :D