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That night, inside an abandoned granary mill, a wild boar roasted over the fire, fat sizzling and dripping into the flames. Gendry crouched nearby, slowly turning the spit.
Jimmy removed his helmet.
For the first time, Arya truly saw his face.
Thick black hair. Clear blue eyes. He did not look much older than a young knight in his prime, yet there was something scholarly about him, almost like a maester from the Citadel who had somehow wandered onto a battlefield.
"Arya, come here," Jimmy said calmly. "I know you have questions, You can ask them, I may not answer."
"I'm not—" she began instinctively, then sighed. "Fine. I'm Arya, Who are you?"
"Me?" He gave a faint smile. "Someone who wasn't meant to exist. You can call me Jimmy."
"Jimmy… can you take me to my brother's army? He'll pay you. A lot."
"And once you get there?" Jimmy asked evenly. "Will you bury your face in Robb's cloak and cry? Or will you tell him you watched Father lose his head?"
Arya stiffened.
"And then what?" Jimmy continued. "He sends you back to Winterfell. When the war ends. Or doesn't end. And someday you're married off to some lord for an alliance."
"My brother wouldn't do that. He wouldn't…" Her voice faltered.
Jimmy watched her quietly.
"Joffrey, the queen, Ilyn Payne. Meryn Trant."
He recited the names like a litany.
"That list you whisper every night. Do you plan to curse them to death?"
Arya lowered her head and sank back down. For all her fierce eyes and stubborn pride, she was still only nine years old.
What plan could she possibly have?
Jimmy nodded toward Jaqen.
"See him?"
Arya glanced over but said nothing.
"You can go with him. Learn. Train. If you survive and if you're relentless, when you return… no one will stop your blade."
She looked at Jaqen with wary suspicion.
"A man need not be stared at so," Jaqen H'ghar said smoothly. "A man can guide a girl across many roads."
The boar crackled loudly.
"It's done," Gendry announced, poking the meat with his knife.
He hesitated.
Twice now, powerful men had taken an interest in him. The Hand of the King. The queen. The Gold Cloaks had hunted him.
Now he understood.
Jaqen was here for Arya.
And the Ghost Knight… was here for him.
"Say what's on your mind," Jimmy said without looking at him.
Gendry swallowed.
"Why did you save me?"
Jimmy answered without hesitation.
"Because you're valuable."
"Valuable?" Gendry blinked. "There's a reward for me?"
"From the queen?" Jimmy snorted. "She's worth less than the lies she tells. Trust her reward and you'll end up with a turnip where your head used to be."
Gendry stared, bewildered.
"The one who wants you safe means you no harm," Jimmy continued. "As for your price… It's about fifty leagues wide and nine hundred leagues long."
"What?"
Even Arya's eyes widened.
Only Jaqen remained composed, thoughtful.
Fifty leagues wide. Nine hundred leagues long.
There were a few vast lands.
The Gift in the North.
The Old Wolf's domain.
Interesting.
Gendry was still trying to understand.
Who would offer a territory that large for a blacksmith's apprentice?
How many swords would he have to forge to repay that?
…
At dawn, Jaqen departed with Arya.
Gendry stood there long after, still stunned by what he had heard.
Jimmy led over two horses, handing one to Gendry before mounting the other himself.
They rode at an easy pace down the road.
"Ser," Gendry asked cautiously, "where are we going?"
Jimmy leaned back casually in the saddle.
"We wait for Horus to pick us up."
He glanced toward the distant horizon.
"Or we head for the sea."
"Horus?"
"Yes."
A sharp cry split the sky.
Jimmy raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as a crimson hawk descended from the clouds.
"Horus is here."
The bird swept down, landing heavily. There was an edge of irritation in his golden eyes.
"Jimmy, did you find Gendry? Let's go back. Then you can help me settle a score."
"Settle a score?" Jimmy frowned. "And what took you so long this time?"
Horus answered by flaring his wings.
With a single swipe, he knocked both horses off their feet. Before Gendry could even react, the hawk expanded in size and swallowed the animals whole.
Jimmy blinked.
He could swear the bird looked… offended.
"I ran into a fleet," Horus said sharply. "They were sailing straight toward the Old Wolf's Isle. I tried to drive them off. Instead, they attacked me."
"And?"
"When I retaliated, something massive surfaced from the sea. Looked like a giant sea hare."
Jimmy stared at him.
"They fled," Horus continued. "Into a region wrapped in thick mist. There was danger inside. I didn't pursue."
Jimmy exhaled slowly.
"Fine. We'll deal with that later. Let's go home first."
Gendry stood frozen, mind reeling.
A hawk the size of a house.
Able to grow and shrink at will.
Able to speak.
Able to swallow two horses in a single gulp.
What kind of world had he stumbled into?
Horus glanced at him critically.
Jimmy stepped in quickly.
"Don't be petty," he said. "He's worth fifty leagues by nine hundred leagues, remember?"
"Not for you," Horus sniffed, turning his head away.
Still, he did not refuse when Jimmy grabbed Gendry by the arm and leapt onto his back.
With a powerful kick of his talons, Horus launched skyward, wings beating hard enough to send dust spiraling in every direction.
They rose into the clouds.
…
After a full day and night in the air, Jimmy and a pale, trembling Gendry arrived at the Old Wolf's Isle.
The moment his feet touched solid ground, Gendry collapsed against a rock, legs too weak to stand.
A cup of water appeared before him.
"Thank you—" he began, then froze.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
"Lord Hand?"
He knew that face.
He had seen it in the streets of King's Landing.
The man was supposed to be dead.
"There is no need for alarm," Eddard Stark said calmly. "There are matters you must understand. Come with me."
…
Some time later, Gendry sat in stunned silence, rubbing his temples as though trying to force sense into the world.
"So… I'm the king's bastard?"
He swallowed.
"And the boy sitting on the Iron Throne isn't truly a Baratheon? I should call myself Gendry Waters—no… Gendry Storm?"
Jimmy snorted.
"Storm? Does House Baratheon even have a rightful heir left in King's Landing?"
He leaned back, arms crossed.
"You are Gendry Baratheon."
His tone hardened.
"If you don't take that name, then Robert's Rebellion was for nothing. He fought a war, won a throne, and handed it over to the lions."
Jimmy's disdain was barely contained.
"It's like a stag fighting tooth and claw for a slab of meat, roasting it over the fire… and only then remembering it eats grass."
Gendry stared at him.
You're talking about my father.
Even if he had never known Robert, even if the man had given him nothing, hearing it said so bluntly still stung.
Eddard Stark frowned slightly.
"Jimmy," he said quietly, "whatever the truth may be, a measure of respect is still due."
Jimmy said nothing for a moment.
But he did not look repentant.
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