Upon the treach'rous King's road long, Wrought with fear and strife, The hearts entwined of lad and lass Found solace brief in life. For Gendry, child of Robert's will, And dearest Arya Stark, Begun a tale of love and chill Amidst the shadows dark. In Westeros' web of sorrow's spin, Their lives were torn asunder, Yet Gendry swore a silent oath, His life to now encumber. By guilt consumed, the hammer's heir Walked path 'neath raven's wing, To forge a tale of hope and life, And kingdom's gaze to bring. He voyaged far on stormy sea, To Iron shores portent, Where dragons swayed, and fires burned In servitude and lament. And there, young Gendry labored long To craft for his true kin A dagger made of Dragonglass, For Arya's heart to win. At last, the call of battle's cry Brought Gendry home once more, To Winterfell, through snow and ice, Love's purpose to restore. His smithy's forge and hammer's blaze, Arrayed with arms to aid, The weapons made for Winter's fall, His guilt with loyalty paid. The clashing field of groaning Earth, Upon which Death did dance, The Wolves and Slaughter's kin did fight To halt the black advance. And in the fray, Gendry high, His bludgeoning heart's swing, Defended Stark and Winter's brood Against each nighted thing. At moon's befall, and fate's embrace, Arya danced her haunting verse, Nascent shadows round her whirled, Like needle's gaunt traverse. The King of Death, subdued beneath The dagger once conceived, Gendry's love and tears now marked Upon his chest relieved. A God of mercy kind he stood, Yet Wolfish pride obeyed, His life and woes he lay to rest, While secret heart betrayed. "Be mine!" he begged, in earnest hope, To Arya's piercing eyes, Yet she, the wild and wandering one, Did silence love's disguise. And as the Ghost of Winter wept, Its tears of snow and white, Still Gendry held his love within, In spite of Arya's flight. And so they lived with hearts entwined, Though distance never fades, For fire wrought with ice and steel, Now beats beneath their blades.