Gendry Waters has done many stupid things in his life. But this-this he thought would easily top that decades long list. His breaths came in short bursts, barely fogging his vision in the dark halls of Winterfell's castle. It was the dead of the night, yet he couldn't sleep- not until this was resolved once and for all. His feet carried him to the great hall of their own accord, stopping just before the wooden doors. Taking a deep breath, he shoved the doors open, stumbling through the entryway.

Gendry paused as he examined the room. Lady Sansa, Jon Snow, and Daenerys Targaryen all sat at the main table, accompanied by Brandon Stark and Sir Davos. Gendry blinked back his surprise, hoping only her grace would be left dining at such a late hour.

"Lord Baratheon," Her Grace said with a hint of surprise. Gendry was startled from his wandering mind, carefully approaching the table. He cleared his throat, bobbing his head in acknowledgement.

"Your Grace, may I request a…" He looked Arya's siblings over carefully, wary of their presence with what he planned to admit, "private audience with you?"

Daenerys smirked, her fingers clutching a small goblet of wine, "I'm sure whatever business you wish to address can be said in front of the room, my lord." The last words dripped of venom, and Gendry knew that she was not leaving the great hall. He cleared his throat once more, her grace cocked her head to the side with an air of interest.

"Your Grace, I truly am honored you bestowed upon me Lordship of Storm's End-"

"But?" The queen cut him off, clearly in no mood to play games. Gendry's eyes shifted to Jon Snow, then to Lady Sansa, feeling the weight of their stares.

"But," Gendry paused, his courage suddenly failing him. He looked to the ground, examining the stones and willing his voice to continue, "I must rescind the title and request-request you name another, perhaps more fitting, Lord to rule Storm's End."

Gendry never quite knew how silence could be described as deafening. He'd always loved silence-it was such a rare occurrence in the life of a smith. If not the singing of steel, the roaring of fires and coals filled the air, sucking any chance of silence away with the smoke that filled the rafters. As if that weren't enough, the company he kept alone could barely leave him room to breathe. He thought then of little Arry and Hotpie, how the two of them would speak to him for hours on end, always asking questions and telling stories. The thought brought the ghost of a smile to his face, suddenly snapping him back to reality. Because this silence-this silence was deafening.

Her Grace's stare could bore holes in his skull. The smirk had been replaced with a scowl, her pointer finger mindlessly tapping at the base of her gold gauntlet.

"May I ask why?" She said flatly, more of a command than a question. Knowing her hatred for playing games, Gendry figured it was time he come out with it. Figuring this was more suitable for Jon Snow, Gendry turned his attention to the man. Bowing his head as if acknowledging him once again, he finally made eye contact.

"Because I am in love with Arya, my Lord," Gendry gathered all of his courage to stand his ground, to not look away in fear of what her family would say. "I am in love with Arya and I wish to spend the rest of my life with her."

As if sensing that this was no longer her place, Daenerys turned her attention to Jon, as did Lady Sansa. Jon narrowed his eyes, his stare never faltering. He licked his lips, nodding once.

"And you can't do that as Lord of Storm's End. You'd need a proper Lady to run a castle," Jon said.

"Aye," Gendry nodded. "And Arya-"

"-was never meant to be a proper Lady." Jon finished, looking to Sansa. Arya's sister nodded once before turning her attention back at Gendry.

"How do you know its love if you've only just met?" She asked. Gendry shook his head,

"Well, we didn't, my Lady," Gendry said, "I've known her since we were young. We grew up together-well, more like she grew up with me. We were travelling companions," Jon raised his eyebrows, "got captured a lot, we did. She always found her way out, though." A smile started to grow on his face, his eyes off to the distance as if he were saying this to Arya herself.
"But that's just the thing-i knew her as a kid, as the nagging pain in my ass who never stopped asking questions and starting fights. To be honest, it had been five years since I last saw her." Gendry's face fell, his voice suddenly losing the strength it had just moments ago. He looked back to Jon, who had inclined his head, encouraging him to continue. "I've been lookin' so long I never realized that it's her I've been looking for."

Jon nodded, rising to his feet. Intimidated, Gendry took a step back.

"You're willing to rescind your title, your legitimacy, and the legacy of a King for my sister?" Jon's voice rang throughout the great hall. Gendry's response was immediate.

"Without question, my Lord."

His mouth cracked open a smile, as the hint of one graced Lady Sansa as well. Jon sat in his chair, turned to the queen, and nodded.

"Very well, Gendry. What you've done is very noble," Daenerys said. Gendry blinked away his shock.

"Th-Thank you, Your Grace."

"You may keep your legitimacy and the title of Gendry Baratheon, and a new Lord of Storm's End will be chosen in your place."

Gendry released a breath he had been holding for what felt like years. He bowed his head in acknowledgement, worried he had said more than enough 'thank you's'. He turned to leave but was halted by a booming voice.

"Not so fast, Baratheon." Jon Snow said. Gendry turned slowly, facing Arya's brother. "Now," he rose from his chair, "About my sister."