She’s Home
Late post-canon fic for 8x02. Gendry’s POV on things and more. Fluffy smut.
The two halves of the spear slid together neatly. The way he’d fixed the leather handholds that met in the center made it look like one continuous weapon. Unless you knew better, you wouldn’t know that it could be pulled apart and fashioned into duel spears. Gendry swung it around by each end experimentally. It needed to be flawless. It had to be his best work.
Gendry looked around the forge. He was the only one left working. The other smiths had gone to prepare for the battle. To say their goodbyes to their loved ones. Gendry looked at his mace lying on the shelf beneath his workbench. He should say goodbye, too. Or… good luck. Or… something. He should definitely say… something.
Gendry sniffed at the cold. He’d worked himself into a sweat over the past few days. Now that he finished his last weapon, the cold had settled in. He set the spear on his workbench and went in search of his tunic and cloak. He paused before he put his clothes on. He was filthy.
Jon had mentioned the hot springs that furnaced Winterfell. The baths that lay beneath the castle. He’d suggested them to him a time or two after Gendry had complained of the cold. Now, Gendry took advantage. He scrubbed the grime from his body. Arya would be expecting her weapon soon. He just had to find her. Then he could tell her…. Well, he’d work out what he was going to say later.
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