AN: So this is my first story. With the whole Gendry = Edric thing the show is doing, I have been thinking a lot about the possibility (not very likely) that these two may meet, should Gendry take over Edric's role fully and end up in Essos.

This is takes place around the time in ADwD where Arya's lost her sight and has taken the identity of Blind Beth.

Chapter 1:

"This is good work, boy."

It was late afternoon and the orange sunlight that bled in through the window made the blade glimmer as Lord Ollie inspected the dagger Gendry had forged. The dark haired boy nodded his thanks and shifted his weight uncomfortably, keeping his gaze set on the blade and never meeting the man's eyes. Lord Ollie was a stranger still, even after Gendry had lived with him for over four months. This whole place was strange, and Gendry strange in it.

Lord Ollie was a short, carefree man with a round belly and a thick, greying beard. He smiled too much, flashing his perfect set of teeth like a horse. Over all, he was a kind man. By far the kindest Gendry had served. He wondered if Davos had anything to do with it.

Gendry ran errands for the man, but aside from that, he was free to do pretty much anything he pleased. He chose to spend his time fixing up the the small, unused forge near Lord Ollie's dock though, instead of exploring the city, as Lord Ollie suggested he do many times.

"The forge is yours now, lad." the man had said when Gendry had asked if he could move a few things around. "You may do as you like with it."

Lord Ollie gave Gendry his space, and didn't ask him any questions. He had not even bothered to look over any of Gendry's work up until a few of days ago, when he decided to put his skills to the test by requesting he make a dagger for his nephew's 13th name day.

"Ever worked with Valyrian steel?" Lord Ollie slipped the dagger back inside it's scabbard and turned to Gendry.

"Tobho Mott was going to teach me, but then..."

Lord Ollie nodded, understanding, and patted Gendry's shoulder with a heavy palm. Gendry flinched. He still couldn't stand being touched. Even when it had been nearly half a year since the red priestess.

Davos was a quiet man, but he had explained the gravity of the situation quite thoroughly to Gendry as they hiked down the cliffs of Dragonstone and rowed out to sea during the hour of the wolf, where Gendry was plucked into a ship. That night was still a dark blur to him. Thinking back, his entire stay at that place was.

The pirate Salladhor, whose ship took Gendry from Westeros to Essos, told him a few stories about the Onion Knight, and Gendry quickly came to the conclusion that Davos was a man he could trust. A man of honor, even if he had met him in a dungeon. That however did not stop Gendry from being wary of his kindness. He should be used to it by now; not having control over his life. Every time he fell into a new situation though, he also fell into the most disgusting of emotions. Hope. He had hoped the Wall would offer a better home than Kingslanding had. Then he had hoped again when he'd met the Brotherhood. And when the red priestess bought him off the bastards, he had been stupid to hope, yet again. Her words had been promising. They had hypnotized him. He truly believed everything she claimed she saw in his eyes, and in his future. He just had no idea the cruel reality behind her prophecies.

He could feel his exterior hardening. The flame of hope still burned somewhere inside of him, thanks to Davos, but it burned low. Low and weak, and whatever came at him next, Gendry knew, would have the means to extiguish it forever.

He spent his days in Braavos waiting for it. As he walked the streets of the city, he glanced around at every one; around every corner, behind ever shuttered window, through the cracks of every ajar door he passed, just waiting for, well, not even Gendry knew what he was waiting for. But it was there. Large, and dark, and waiting for him. Waiting for him to get too comfortable. For him to let his guard down. For his hope to gain strength. And so, Gendry kept his walls high, never letting anyone in, and he kept his hope at the brink of ceasing to exist.

"You need another name." Lord Ollie had said to him on his first morning in Braavos. "Any name. It shall be your new name from now, until you die. It will be the name you will give to anyone that ever asks."

Gendry knew that even a new name didn't protect him from it. Nothing could. It was not a name that Queen Cersei's Gold Cloaks were after on the Kingsroad, and it certainly wasn't a name that the Brotherhood sold to Melisandre.

It was the blood in his veins. The bastard blood of a King.

"Well, why don't you take this down to Tam." Lord Ollie placed the dagger in Gendry's hand, careful not to touch him. "He will love it."

Gendry nodded in obedience and turned for the door.

As he made his way down to the docks, where he would most likely find Tam, Gendry thought about what Lord Ollie had mentioned; about forging Valyrian steel. Perhaps Tam, or his uncle would know of someone who could teach Gendry how to work with it.

The boy was by the docks, just as Gendry had suspected. There was a shipment arriving, and Tam was standing aside amongst a small crowd that bobbed their heads curiously at the unloading ship.

Gendry's attention was elsewhere though, and the dagger, the ship and the young boy were forgotten. His eyes had caught glimpse of a skinny girl that was sitting by one of the canals.

Gendry licked his lips nervously as he took several involuntary steps towards her. Her back was to him, so he couldn't see her face, but he would recognize that back anywhere, even with no hair.

"Edric!" he heard Tam calling behind him, but he ignored the boy and crossed the rest of the way to the girl. He inhaled deeply, reaching a hand towards her shoulder.

"Don't touch me." she spoke before he could touch her. She spoke braavosi, but her accent was westerosi, and for a second Gendry's heart jumped with hope. But then the girl turned and Gendry had to blink several times to shake away the overwhelming feelings that threatened to cause his knees to give. This is not Arya.

How could he have been so stupid to think she would be here.

"I could hear you walking." the blindfolded girl explained, as if she assumed he was wondering how she knew he was there.

Gendry could feel wetness in the corners of his eyes. He was glad the girl couldn't see him. He must look absolutely idiotic.

He opened his mouth, about to apologize for disturbing her, when Tam came besides him, catching his breath and grabbing at his sides. "Edric!" he gasped out excitedly.

"This is yours." Gendry pushed the dagger into his hands, "Happy name day, from your uncle." He bowed his head, hoping the boy would run off to show his friends or something and leave him alone. But the boy minded his gift for a few seconds before he turned to the girl sitting by the canal. "Why are you talking to her?"

Gendry gritted his teeth. "You should go thank your uncle, boy." he shoved the boy gently by the shoulder, and thankfully, the boy obeyed.

"Edric." the girl pulled her legs over the edge, and clumsily rose off the ground with the help of her walking stick. Gendry caught her arm to steady her, but she snatched it away from him. He took a step back, regarding her features carefully. The cloth that was binded around her head to cover her eyes hid most of her face, but what little skin could be seen, was covered in gruesome pox scars. The scars ran along her neck and arms as well. She had a mole, her head was shaved, and she looked unhealthily skinny, and very dirty.

"Yes." he said carefully. "That is my name."

The girl's head cocked to one side. "I'm Beth." she told him. "Blind Beth."

please review. tell me what you think.