"I never thought I had a father… or siblings."
Miss Mia's voice trembled as she spoke, her words catching in her throat. She tried to steady herself, but her emotions overflowed despite her efforts.
"I used to think… how wonderful it would be just to see them once. Just once…" She lowered her gaze, her lashes damp with tears. "And now that dream has come true… but I can't stop crying."
Gendry stood before her, tall and broad-shouldered, his presence as solid as a mountain. Yet in that moment, the hardened warrior revealed a softer side—one rarely seen by others.
Only in front of family could he let his guard down.
He reached out gently, wiping the tears from Mia's face with surprising tenderness.
"You've found your home, sister."
Their faces bore similarities—strong features shaped by hardship, lives forged in struggle. Both were bastards once, born into dangerous circumstances. One had survived in the chaos of King's Landing, the other among the perilous heights of the Vale of Arryn.
That they had both survived long enough to meet like this… was nothing short of a miracle.
Though separated by distance, the blood of the stag still bound them together.
And in a world facing the threat of Long Winter and endless night, family became more important than ever.
"You're strong, Mia," Gendry said with a faint smile.
He wasn't exaggerating.
From what he had heard, Mia had spent years traversing the treacherous mountain paths leading to the Eyrie, guiding travelers and transporting supplies through routes that could kill an unprepared man within minutes.
In Gendry's eyes, her endurance and resilience rivaled that of elite soldiers.
"If you had been born a man," he added lightly, "you would have been a fearsome warrior."
Mia laughed softly through her tears.
"And you are strong too, Gendry."
Her expression turned thoughtful.
"I don't remember his face clearly," she said after a pause. "Only fragments."
"When I was very young… he used to toss me into the air."
Her lips curved into a faint, nostalgic smile.
"He was huge. His hands were so strong… I felt like I was flying."
"We would laugh and laugh until I couldn't breathe. Tears would come out of my eyes, and that only made him laugh more."
She inhaled slowly.
"I was never afraid. I knew he would catch me."
Then her voice dimmed.
"But one day… he didn't."
"And after that… he left."
A bitter edge crept into her tone.
"That's how men are, aren't they? They either lie… die… or leave."
Gendry fell silent for a moment.
Then he spoke quietly.
"Before he died, King Robert left something behind."
He met her eyes.
"A will. One that legitimizes his bastards."
Mia blinked in surprise.
"From now on… you are no longer a bastard."
"You are a true Baratheon."
Mia lowered her gaze.
"…I'd still rather see him again," she murmured. "Just once. To ask him why."
She adjusted the noble dress she wore, clearly uncomfortable in it.
She had spent most of her life in leather armor and practical clothing. Dresses were foreign to her—symbols of a life she had never lived.
Gendry chuckled faintly.
"He won't come back."
"Lord Eddard once said… a man like him could swear eternal love in the morning and forget it by nightfall."
There was no hatred in his tone.
Only acceptance.
"A king like that… wasn't much of a father."
Mia looked at him again, her curiosity returning.
"You've come so far," she said. "They sing songs about you in the Vale."
"They call you the 'Mad Storm'—invincible in battle."
"But… you're still so young."
Gendry shrugged slightly.
"A warrior and a blacksmith aren't so different," he said.
"Both rely on strength."
He flexed his hand unconsciously.
"Heat, pressure, endurance… the same principles apply."
Mia laughed.
"Then tell me your story, blacksmith."
"As for me… my life has always been simple."
"I guide people up the mountain. I carry supplies. Day after day."
Gendry nodded slowly.
"I don't remember him," he began. "Not really."
"My mother… I only remember her hair. Golden."
"After that… I was sent to a smithy."
His voice remained calm, but each word carried weight.
From a nameless apprentice in a back-alley forge…
To a survivor of King's Landing.
From there, across the Narrow Sea.
Through mercenary companies, battles, bloodshed.
From the Disputed Lands to Myr and Tyrosh.
Then back again to Westeros.
Step by step…
He had climbed.
Not just through strength—but through will, intelligence, luck… and something more.
Something that felt almost like destiny.
But he knew the truth.
He hadn't come this far alone.
It was the trust, sacrifices, and support of others that had carried him forward.
Only after surviving everything… could he speak of it so lightly.
"If I get the chance," Gendry said, "I'll take you to meet Daenerys."
Mia's eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"The silver-haired Dragon Princess?"
"They say she's the most beautiful woman in the world."
She grinned teasingly.
"You'd better have a child soon. Secure the succession."
Gendry let out a helpless laugh.
"We'll try… but Dany is still too young."
He paused briefly.
"When your knight returns… I'll attend your wedding."
"You'd better," Mia said firmly.
Not far away, Ser Barristan Selmy watched the siblings quietly.
The old knight felt a faint ache in his chest.
For him, honor had always been everything.
He had devoted his life to it.
He had worn the white cloak with pride—and with sacrifice.
Love, family… those were things he had left behind long ago.
Yet even after all these years…
Scenes like this still moved him.
Later, as Mia was escorted away to be formally introduced as a Baratheon princess, the balcony grew quiet.
Only Gendry and Barristan remained.
After a moment, Barristan spoke.
"Your Highness… will that child survive?"
He referred to the frail heir of the Vale.
Gendry sighed.
"We can only do our best."
Barristan nodded grimly.
"If the Arryn line fails again… the Iron Throne will have to intervene."
"It has happened before."
"Twice."
"And each time… it brought bloodshed."
After a pause, Barristan added thoughtfully,
"Princess Mia's presence here will help stabilize things."
"She is strong. Capable."
Gendry chuckled.
"She's not exactly suited for raising children."
"Sweet Robin needs someone… gentler."
Barristan hesitated, then said,
"Your Highness… you should also consider your own heir."
"A kingdom cannot rely on just two people."
Gendry nodded slowly.
"I've thought about it."
"But Dany…"
He looked out toward the horizon.
"She's still just a girl."
"Her body hasn't fully developed. Forcing childbirth now would be dangerous."
Barristan's expression softened.
"The birthing bed is a battlefield of its own."
"Perhaps… waiting is wise."
Gendry nodded.
"And there are also the dragons."
His voice lowered.
"The blood of the Dragon King…"
He clenched his fist slightly.
"I want many children."
"But not at the cost of her life."
Barristan smiled faintly.
"If she bears many healthy heirs in the future… it will be a blessing for the realm."
He paused.
"The madness of the old king… was partly due to the lack of heirs."
Gendry turned to him.
"How much dragon blood still remains in the world?"
Barristan thought carefully.
"More than you might expect."
He began listing houses and lineages.
Hightower.
Velaryon.
Martell.
Blackfyre.
Baratheon.
"Even across the Narrow Sea… there may still be descendants."
"Though the blood is diluted."
Gendry's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Hightower…"
That name lingered in his mind.
Ancient.
Powerful.
And dangerous.
"If dragons return…" he murmured, "those with even a trace of dragon blood may come."
"To claim power."
Barristan studied him.
"Are you worried?"
Gendry smiled faintly.
"Worried? Of course."
"My throne… my dragons…"
"I took them with my own hands."
"If anyone tries to steal them…"
His eyes hardened.
"I won't show mercy."
Barristan nodded approvingly.
Then he said quietly,
"Even so… Your Highness must remain cautious."
"No warrior is your equal in open combat."
"But assassination…"
"Poison. Ambush. Treachery."
"These are harder to guard against."
"That is why the Kingsguard exists."
"To protect."
Gendry nodded.
But his thoughts went deeper.
"Assassins aren't the only threat," he said.
"There is also magic."
"The red comet…"
"It signals something greater."
"Magic is returning."
Barristan frowned slightly.
"Like Lord Eddard's words… winter is coming."
Gendry shook his head.
"This isn't a warning."
"It's reality."
"The Long Night…"
"It's coming."
The wind howled softly around them.
A silent omen of what lay ahead.
Barristan straightened.
"Then I will stand my ground."
"Until my last breath."
Gendry looked at him.
"You truly are a knight."
But deep down…
He knew.
The coming battles would not be fought with swords alone.
Magic.
Dragons.
Darkness.
The world was changing.
And the age of legends…
Was about to begin once more.
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