Gendry Waters (swingthehammer) wrote in twoiaf, @ 2017-09-18 15:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | gendry waters, moat cailin |
Who: Gendry
What: Gendry flees from dragons only to be attacked by wolves on the way to Winterfell. FML.
Where: Near Moat Cailin
When: Coinciding roughly with Arya's wolf dream.
Warnings: Mention of blood.
Once Daenerys Targaryen had taken the Iron Throne the next logical step for Gendry had been to gather his few meager belongings and leave King's Landing as hastily as possible. He had no way of knowing whether or not the Mother of Dragon's had any knowledge of him but given the penchant of highborns targeting him for no other reason than his parentage he had no desire to stay in the city long enough to discover whether or not he would be hunted once more. He may well have posed a potential threat and obstacle to the Lannister claim on the throne but his father-albeit the father he had never known-had been responsible for deposing the family of the new queen in the first place, giving her all the reason in the world to want to wipe out the last of the Baratheon bloodline even if Gendry had never held the name himself. That first visual of the dragon's flying high over King's Landing had only strengthened his resolve and determination to depart as swiftly as his feet could carry him.
His destination had also not been all that hard for him to decide upon either. Lord Eddard Stark had been the first highborn to show him any amount of consideration and Gendry believed that the late Lord was responsible at least in some part for his being spirited away from the gold cloaks years ago. With the Stark's back in Winterfell and with the hope at seeing and perhaps having the opportunity to reconcile by some measure with one of their number Gendry had elected to head North as far away from the fire of the dragons as possible.
As with the majority of the brash decisions he had made throughout his life, his journey did not go as planned. The first hurdle had been the weather. On his way out of the city Gendry had used up what coin and valuables he could spare to garner some furs but it was hardly enough for the cold that he faced. Were it just the weather the worst threat to his person may have been frost bite in one or more of his extremities. Instead he faced far worse in a pack of hungry wolves chasing after him through ankle deep snow through which he could scarcely stay upright, much less gain any amount of ground on the beasts. Through a combination of exhaustion, fear, and steady blood loss stemming from the initial ambush of the wolves that had set off the current chase Gendry could hardly see straight as he stumbled into a wide open clearing only realizing too late that it was the perfect terrain for the pack to close in and surround him.
Losing his footing, Gendry fell first to his knees and then his hands. His flesh so warm steam rose from it as his fingers melted into the snow before he straightened in time to see the wolves begin to emerge from the treeline. Heads low and ready to attack with teeth bared.
He was going to die. Of that, Gendry had little doubt. But that did not mean he had to do it cowering as prey and a meal to fill the bellies of the pack. And so rising on unsteady feet, Gendry allowed the big burlap sack to fall to drop from his back as he eased his warhammer out from one of his broad shoulders, his chest rising and falling as he sucked in what breath he could and stared back at the wolves in defiance. Gendry ought to have been terrified and, without question, he felt real and genuine fear. But more than that he felt a certain keen satisfaction that if nothing else he was no longer going to run. Not from man or beast. For the first time in his life he would decide his fate... even if it ended in blood red snow.