The Bastard of Winterfell

The Fifth Raven

It took pleading from Ned to have his mother finally leave. He had to promise up and down on all his ancestors that he wasn't going to run off again before Sansa let him sleep in his own bed. But sleep wasn't coming to him. The events and news of the day was eating away at him. He never heard her come in, yet her face suddenly appeared above him. Arya smiled at the boy, moving some hair away from his face.

"You do look like me a little." She whispered. "The Grey eyes and such. Just try to avoid my temper. It lead to many a fight when I was your age. Especially with Sansa."

"Why did you leave me?" Arya shifted her weight on the bed, smiling at him.

"I was never meant to be a mother. It was a fluke accident, the thought of keeping you with me was too terrifying. But Sansa...Sansa was always meant to be one. She knows how to care for them, how to love them. She was always meant to be your mother. I felt it, the moment she held you, the look in her eyes. I never felt like that. Not that I didn't want to, I just...couldn't. It's not me."

"Did you love me?" Arya wiped a tear from his face. He never even knew he was crying.

"It was only with love for your future and the life you could lead here, did I part with you."

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"He's my son! You didn't think I should know." Gendry threw away with all honors the moment he had a chance to speak to Sansa behind closed doors. "Did you even know? Of course you did, you know everything!"

"Of course I knew. It doesn't take a genius to guess who was the one who got my sister with child! The only person she had ever been with to my knowledged was you. By then she had sworn me to secrecy and I could do nothing about it. It was to protect him and her. You know I would do anything for family."

"I had a right." Gendry shook his head, gripping the back of the chair. "I never knew who my father was until he was long dead and buried. Murdered by the Lannisters, a King, a warrior. Someone I would have looked up."

"Robert Baratehon was many things when he was younger, but when I knew him, he was a drunk and philander. You have turned out nothing like him Gendry. You are kind and caring. I know all about the orphans you take in, you help feed. Storm's End has become a safe haven, a place were they can learn and become apprentices."

"My lady, hes...hes my own flesh and blood which is something I never thought I would have after your sister turned me down."

"I understand." Sansa watched him sink into a chair, his anger dissipating. A certain sadness coming over him. "You know why you were sent here, correct?"

"To find out who your next heir is. If this bastard was to become the next King of the North." Sansa smiled, at him.

"In order for him to become my successor, the next King of the North, something he has been raised to be. Something I know he desperately wants. You would need to deny any claim to him. Deny any claim that he is yours, both in public and in private." Gendry stared at her long and hard, his chest rising and falling deeply.

"You want me to deny my own son."

"If you want him to one day aspire to be something great. Yes, Yes I do."

"You don't know what you ask of me." He shook his head.

"I know exactly what I ask of you. You forget where I became a Queen. Who made me steel." The flash of blonde hair and icy blue eyes came to both their minds, a queen long dead, yet a lioness still. There was a soft knock on the door. "Enter." She commanded. Little Ned entered the room, followed by Jon. The ten year old boy looked up at Gendry with his mothers grey eyes. Standing, Gendry took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Jons, before turning to Sansa.