Queen in the North

Davos

So I'm inserting a character from the books named Arys Oakheart. He is a king's guard and definitely one of the nicer ones. So he will sort of substitute for Jaime. 

It felt good to be back on a boat. It had taken some convincing for him to be able to take this trip to Kingslanding, but it was for good reason. They needed to ensure an audience with Cersei Lannister and Tyrion had a connection that might work. Davos was chosen to accompany him due to his past as a smuggler.

Davos rowed towards a secret cove, hidden behind the Red Keep. "I will need no more than two hours to speak with Arys Oakheart," Tyrion says.

They land on the shore and Davos secures the boat. Tyrion's eye's traced the silhouette of the castle. "Last time I was here, I killed my father with a crossbow."

"Last time I was here, you killed my son with wildfire." Davos retorts, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He missed his son every day, and returning to the city reminded him of his death. "There is a path to the left that hugs the cliff. The guards hardly ever patrol it. Too many steps." Davos sets of towards Kingslanding. He needed to find an old friend.

"You're not staying here?" Tyrion called after him.

"I've got my own business in Flea Bottom." He calls to the Imp.

"What if someone takes the boat?"

"Then we're fucked! Best hurry!" Davos keeps walking up the familiar path that reminds him of a simpler time. The path led him to the outskirts of the city, where the streets were the cleanest. He walked towards the heart, the smell of shit seeping into the air as he moved forward. The people grew thinner and the houses were built closer. He knew this city like the back of his own hand. He knew the desperation of the people of Flea Bottom, it was a tale that he had lived growing up.

He walked to the blacksmith, praying that the lad from another life was there. He was in luck.

He had grown since the last time Davos had seen him. He really did look like his father, back when he had first won the Iron Throne. He was tall, muscular with hair as black as night and light blue eyes.

"I wasn't sure that I would find you," Davos said as Gendry looked up from his swords, a grin on his face as if an old friend came to visit. Davos supposed that was the case, they were, in a way, old friends. "Thought you might still be rowing."

Gendry chuckles softly. "Aren't you worried, about the gold cloaks?"

"Haven't been here in years. Why should they recognize me? Sometimes I hardly do. Nothing fucks you harder than time." He inspected a sword on the wall. Gendry truly was a talented smith. "Anybody give you any trouble?"

"Here I am, arming Lannisters and I never get a second look. But, you were right, the safest place for me was right under the queen's nose."

"Don't be so sure. Safety is never a permanent state of affairs. Bad things are coming." Davos shuttered. Melissandre did have one thing right, the night was dark and full of terrors.

Gendry's eyes flashed with understanding. "You came to get me, you want me to come with you."

"Well, one thing that you need to understand----."

"Im ready. Let's go."

Davos smiled at the lad's vigor. "You should know what you're heading into."

"What do you think I've been thinking about with every swing of the hammer? How happy I am making weapons for the family that killed my father? The family that tried to kill me? I've been getting ready. I never knew what for, but I've always known that I'd know when it comes."

Davos's smile grows. "You might want to bring one of those swords."

Gendry smiles back. "I don't know much about swinging swords. But this," He pulled a massive war hammer out of a cupboard. "This I know."

'Gods, he truly is Robert.' Davos thought as they set off through the city and back to the hidden cove, where Tyrion would be waiting.

Once they were in a secluded area, Davos turned his attention back to Gendry. "Keep your father's name to yourself. The situation is already complicated as it is."

"Who should I say I am?"

Two guards approached them, Davos had to think of a lie and quickly. It was a good thing that he planned for something like this. "I told you Clovis! If we don't get outta here soon---."

"You there!" A guard yelled.

Davos turned to them and put on an amiable smile. "No weapons, friends. I promise." He said as he approached them. "What can I do for you?"

"Is that your boat?" The short one asked.

"It is," Davos confirmed.

"The docks are that way." The tall one pointed.

"That they are. I try to stay away from them. To avoid good men, such as yourselves." He pulled out his purse. "15 stags?"

"30." The tall one corrected.

"A piece." The short one chimed.

Davos paid up, begrudgingly. "I can't say that it was a pleasure doing business with you." He mumbled.

The gold cloaks grinned and turned back the way they came.

Davos's face falls as Tyrion makes his way towards them. Hopefully, he would be able to talk his way out of this one. The guards look him over as he passes and for a split second, it seems as if they're in the clear. until the cloaks turn back around.

"Oi, dwarf!" The short one calls. Trying doesn't stop until he reaches the boat.

"That dwarf... Where did you get that scar?" The tall one murmured

"Fishhook. Some man, you cannot teach." Tyrion replied cooly.

"We were looking for a dwarf with a scar not too long ago." The tall one continues.

"Perhaps there is some arrangement?" Davos asks and jingles his coin.

Before the men could answer, Gendry had smashed their skulls in with his hammer in two-fluid motions.

"This is Gendry." Davos introduces, grateful for the boy.

"He'll do," Tyrion says plainly.

The three men push the boat out to the sea and head back to Dragonstone with haste.

Who else low-key loved Gendry?