"I believe this is what your brother died for, it's what was meant to happen. This is what it was all for. For Bran to be king."
Those were Howland's words as he told Meera about the decision that had been made. She tried to hide her horrified reaction as well as she could and only nodded in reply. But inside of her a feeling of dread was bubbling, trying to make its way out. She felt nauseous and queasy.
This was what her brother had died for. But this was not what he would have wanted to die for. She knew that. Jojen didn't knowingly die for the kingdom to be taken over by whatever entity now inhabited Bran's body. Because her brother had been good, and she knew that the entity wasn't.
Something else also worried her. Something else her father had told her about the decisions that had been made. Something that could put her home in danger.
"If the North secedes from the kingdom, what happens to us?" she asked. "We're right on the border."
"We stay as part of the kingdom, " her father replied. "I believe it's the right thing to do, that we serve under the king your brother sacrificed himself for."
"But what if the other houses around us don't agree? There might be a war for the border. They might want to erase us altogether."
Their lands weren't big and they didn't have many men, if the other houses wanted to take them out it would be easy to do so. She knew that and her father knew that. The only reason they still remained was that they had always had backing from the Starks in the North. Therefore his new situation felt very precarious to her. No matter who, or what, was king.
"The new king will protect us," her father replied. "After what you, and your brother, did for him he must do so."
She could only nod as she fought to hold back her tears. She knew he wouldn't. He would not protect them. He wouldn't protect anyone.
He, whoever he was, had planned this. He had told her that she would know soon enough what it was all for. She knew now. And she knew it wasn't good, it wasn't right, it wasn't what her brother would have wanted.
Meera sat down on her bed in the tent and rested her arms on her knees, hiding her face behind them. Trying to take it all in. Pondering what she could do, if there was anything she could do.
She should have told her father. She should have told someone. But it was too late now. It would only hurt Howland if she told him now. And she didn't want to hurt her father. She didn't want him to hurt as she did.
Sensing that something wasn't right with her Howland sat down next to Meera and put his hand on her shoulder.
"Meera, is there something you aren't telling me?" he asked. "About what happened up there in the North? About your brother?"
Meera nodded slightly, barely aware herself that she did. But she couldn't stop her head from moving. The truth wanted to come out. But it couldn't.
"I can't tell you," she said. "I just can't, father. I'm sorry..."
Howland didn't say anything in reply. Instead, he put her arms around Meera and held her for a moment. She felt tears starting to fall as he did. He patted her lightly on the head before letting go of her.
"You don't have to tell me, Meera," he said. "I'm sure there's a reason why you can't. But tell someone. Because it seems to be troubling you so much to hold it in. And I hate to see you troubled. And I hope you will tell me one day."
"I will," she said as she tried drying her tears with the sleeve of her jacket."I will tell you one day. But I need to figure this out myself first."
Then she got up from the bed because she was afraid she would tell her father if she stayed next to him any longer. And she knew the truth would ruin him.
She needed to get away. She needed to think. She needed to breathe.
As she was leaving the tent she grabbed her spear. It was never wise to go anywhere without it.
"Where are you going," Howland asked.
"I don't know," she said. "Somewhere."
Meera needed to go somewhere. She needed to find something.
And she would.
***
Gendry was, once again, hiding in his tent. He laid on his bed, exhausted but unable to get any sleep. They were to continue the council the next day with discussions on what to do with the ruined city and all the people who had fled, and he wanted to be well-rested for it. But his mind was not cooperating with him.
The thought of Arya's smile haunted him, assaulted him. Because he knew he couldn't have it, but yet he wanted it so badly. Her smile wasn't his anymore, it never really was. But he couldn't get it out of his mind, he couldn't get her out of his mind.
He wanted to go out there and talk to her. He wanted everything to be like it once was. Before everything. But he was afraid it wouldn't be. Because everything was different now.
But even while the thought of Arya lingered in his mind he still clasped his hands to his chest, to where someone else's hands had been. His body remembered Meera's touch even when his mind didn't.
As he laid there trying to muster up the courage to go outside Devan entered the tent, holding a half-eaten pie in his hand. Gendry hadn't seen Devan without food in his hand since they got there. Going without food for two days had taken its toll on him.
"Jon Snow is here to see you, Lord Baratheon," Devan said, still chewing on his pie.
This was a surprise as Jon was set to be transported up north immediately after being released from the prison cell he had been kept in. Gendry hadn't thought he would ever get to see Jon again.
So he ceased wallowing in his own misery and heartbreak for a moment and instead got up from the bed and straightened out his clothes. He had taken his jacket off as it was too hot to wear it inside the tent. Since he didn't want to deal with those hooks again he decided to leave it on the bed.
He exited the tent and saw his friend Jon standing there. A little bit thinner and dirtier than last time. With a scruffier beard and more unkempt hair. But still the same Jon.
"Gendry, good to see you," Jon said and put his hand on Gendry's shoulder. "Or Lord Baratheon I guess."
"Gendry will do just fine," he replied.
"I just wanted to say goodbye, my friend. My siblings will wave me off at the dock but the guards allowed me to go by here on the way there. So I could say my goodbyes to my friends."
A couple of Unsullied guards were lurking in the background, seemingly impatient to get their prisoner to leave with them.
"I will miss you, Jon. You made me feel like there was hope for a bastard like me," Gendry said.
"You are more than a bastard now. You're a lord. You're truly your father's son."
He was all that. But yet he didn't feel any different. He still just felt like a poor bastard from Fleabottom.
"Honestly, Jon. I don't feel like any of that. Not yet. Did you ever... did you ever start feeling like anything else than a bastard?"
Jon looked to be pondering the question for a few moments. Like he never really thought about it like that. He had just done what was asked of him and not stopped to think of what he felt.
"I think I did, at least sometimes. During some moments I forgot who I used to be, and those moments lasted longer and longer. During those moments I felt like Ned Stark's true son. Although I guess it turns out I'm not..."
Gendry nodded. They had all heard now who Jon's real parents were, but it didn't really matter to Gendry. It didn't change anything.
He recognized the feeling Jon spoke of because Gendry did forget too during some moments. But those moments were still so short. He always remembered who he used to be way too soon.
"Just try not to start any rebellion's like your father, and you're good," Jon said and patted his friend on the arm.
"I'll try my best," Gendry replied with a smile.
He would not come to keep that promise. Because there would come a moment when he truly felt like Robert Baratheon's son. A moment that wouldn't end.
The Unsullied guards behind Jon started gesturing impatiently. It was time for him to go.
Jon leaned in and gave Gendry a quick embrace before he left.
"Make us bastards proud, my friend," Jon said as he turned around and left.
Then the guards led Jon away. Towards the ship that would take him away from the kingdom forever.
But it wouldn't be forever. One day Jon would be back. When Gendry needed him the most he would come back. When it was time for both of them to become their fathers.
As Gendry stood there watching his friend leave he realized that he couldn't hide anymore. He needed to face what haunted him. And he would start with the fallen city behind him. The city was now empty, as all the Unsullied guards had left. And he started walking towards it.
Gendry needed to go there. He needed to find something.
And he would.