A/N: Thanks for all of your lovely support!

Disclaimer: I am not associated with ASOIAF or GoT

"Here." The woman in red, Melisandre she said, hands one of her guards a loaf of bread to feed to me. My hands are still bloody tied together. She turns her icy blue eyes at me. "You need to eat."

I stare hard at her. She is the reason that I am not with the fucking Brotherhood. I don't know whether to hate her or thank her for showing me their true colours. They sold me to her. Fucking asses.

"Where are we going?" I ask yet again even though I know it's futile. She hasn't answered any of the other times that I've asked.

She turns around to look forward. "You shall see when we get there."

We travel a day by horse and that's when I smell it. Seawater. I used to go to the ports at King's Landing whenever Master Mott let me take break. It was the only place I knew well besides the forge. I remember watching the ships, wishing that I could be one of the sailors who get to travel to any land they wanted. I wanted the feeling of being free.

"Why are we at sea?" I ask her.

She turns around. "You shall see." It's the only bloody answer that she gives me.

We head towards the water until we reach a large ship. I watch Melisandre as she gets off her horse. Who is this woman and how can she fucking afford a whole bloody ship? She heads towards the ship until a plank is pulled down so that she can board it. She slowly makes her way up.

Her men grab me and shove me off the wagon and onto the plank following her.

I struggle against the strains around my wrist. I don't know where she wants to take me; all I know is that I have to get back. Arya is still with them. No matter my situation, I can't help but remember that she's still with them. Still in danger.

Her men tie me against one of the posts on the ship. Fuck, the first time I'm on a fucking ship and I'm held captive.

I watch as the men pull away from shore and the feeling of dread washes over me. I'll never be able to get back to Arya. I swallow.

Melissandre approaches me after she finishes talking with the captain. "Release him." The men scramble to untie my hands.

The moment I'm released, I grab at my wrists. I look at her in shock. "You're letting me go?"

She smirks. "It's not like you can get away, boy."

I walk unsteadily to the edge of the ship to look into the water. I can't swim and she knows it. If I jump, I would die.

I turn around to look at her. "What do you want with me?"

She gives me that smirk again. "A question that shall be answered soon enough."

I watch the sunrise two more days at sea and then finally, I see it in the distance. King's Landing. I snort. After everything that I've gone through, I've only managed to come back to where I started. But there's something different. The water is filled with half-sunken ships.

Melisandre crosses my path and I follow her. "What happened?" I stare out at the water. Nothing makes sense.

"Wildfire. I should have been here." Wildfire? What does that have to do with anything?

I look up at the castle and for some reason I tell her what I've been thinking. "After all the running and fighting, here I am, back where I started."

"Do you miss it?" She asks me.

"King's Landing?" There is nothing to miss.

"Your father's house," she clarifies immediately.

I shake my head slightly. She doesn't know I'm a bastard. "Never had a father. Never wanted one." Only truth. What good is a man who leaves a woman and her child before the child is even born.

"Haven't you ever wondered where your strength came from? Your talent for fighting?"

What the hell is she talking about? Does she know nothing about me. I grew up in a forge, I lifted pounds of metal daily. That's where I got my strength. Granted, I always used to be able to lift more than the other apprentices. It was why Master Mott kept me. Or so he said. As for the fighting, I guess she has no idea that I've been captured time and time again. I'm no good at it.

"I'm lowborn. As low as can be. My mother was a tavern wench." What is she raving about?

"Mine was a slave. So was I. Bought and sold. Scourged and branded until the Lord of Light reached down, took me in his hand, and raised me up." She says passionately.

A part of me feels sorry for her. A woman so beautiful doesn't deserve that horror. But a part of me wonders if she realizes that she's bought me. I am her slave.

I hold my tongue and instead, I tell her of my birth. "I was born in Flea Bottom."

She looks at me with that stare of hers, the one that says whatever she thinks is the most obvious. "Your blood is noble."

She keeps talking as if...as if there is a chance that I'm not so lowborn. "You're saying...my father, he was some lord or..." I shake my head. Impossible.

She turns to look at the Red Keep. "There." She looks back at me. "Your father's house."

I follow her gaze. No. No. What she's saying...she can't mean...that's not a possibility. I swallow. "I'm just a bastard."

She looks at me again with that stare. "The bastard of Robert of the House Baratheon." I look at her. She's fucking serious. "First of his name. King of the Andals and the First Men."

I stare at her.

"Why do you think the Gold Cloaks wanted you? There is power in a king's blood." She points out.

I never knew. I look up at the castle again. My father. Robert Baratheon was my father.

I step back. "I need to...I just need a moment." Without looking at her, I head down to the crates. It is the only spot on the ship where I can think without having anyone bother me. I collapse onto the closest crate, for the first time not because of my lack of sea legs.

Baratheon. My father was Robert Baratheon. King Robert Baratheon. I'm the bastard of a king. I shake my head. I should have known. I always said that he had fucked all of King's Landing, it only makes sense that I was fathered from one of his trysts.

I stare at the ship wall across from me and suddenly another thought crosses my mind. I'm not lowborn. Rather, not as lowborn as I always thought.

I jump up as something else crosses my mind. My last conversation with Arya. I told her that I could never be her family because I was lowborn. But now...now things are different. I could...marry her. I may be a bastard still, but I'm King Robert's bastard. That makes a difference. And Arya said that she loved her bastard brother best. She wouldn't care. I could make her my family, just like she wanted.

I sit down, hoping that my speeding heart stops racing. Arya. I have to get back to her. I need her now more than ever. I don't know what Melisandre wants with me, all I know is that Arya would be able to tell me what to do with this knowledge.

King Robert's son. I'm King Robert's son. Oh gods. I just realized something else. I'm related to fucking Joffrey Baratheon. Fuck.

A/N: It's probably unlikely that Gendry thought of Arya at the revelation, but you know, one can dream.

Hope you readers liked this installment.