Hello everyone! So, here's the deal. My classmate Habibty17 and I were talking about how she loves to write and I mentioned my own history in writing to which I added that I would love to give it another go. It had been years since I had last written something other than the necessary items for school. All of a sudden we both came with this (to us) marvelous idea and I decided to sign up here so we could give it a go. We hope you will enjoy our writing and we will do our very best to make it an awesome story. Feedback is always welcome!

The story will start with the Prologue. Enjoy!

Kind regards, Grey'nWhite and Habibty17 xoxo

Prologue

"Step by step, keep on going." he said as he stumbled along. His head was down and his mangled face partially hidden by a linen cloth that he had stolen from a corpse two days ago. The cloth he had needed not as shelter from the blistering sun, not as protector from the sand blowing into his eyes. He had needed the cloth to hide behind for he dared not look up towards the horizon, which never seemed to get closer no matter how far he travelled.

"Sand. Nothing but bloody sand. Everywhere. Dragons. I hate dragons." he mumbled. "Look up, you need to look up. See where you are!" He stopped for a while and prepared himself for another view of absolute nothing. "Come on, look up!" he ordered himself. Slowly he raised his head, the linen cloth slowly making way for the image that lay before him. "It's a village?" he asked himself when his eyes rested upon what seemed a few buildings in the distance. "It's a village! It's a village, it's a village!" he cheered and as if his legs had absorbed some unknown energy, he ran towards the buildings, tears of joy streaming down his scarred cheek.

The tears of joy soon turned into tears of grief when he reached the village and found that, like all the other villages he had come across, had been burnt to the ground and nothing but ruins remained. "Why?" he cried. "Why, why, why?" He picked up a stone and with all his remaining power he threw it at the ruins, screaming and crying frantically until his legs finally gave out from under him, and he passed out among the burnt ruins.

He awoke to four curious young faces, staring at him in awe. "He's so tiny!" one of them blurted out. "And he's so ugly. Do you think he used to be a soldier?" another one asked. "Don't be silly, look at him. He would be killed instantly. I think he was born like this." a third voice said. "Yes, I am tiny. Yes, I was partially born like this. No, I was never a soldier but that didn't stop a knight slashing at my face with an axe. Now bugger off, or I will do the same to you." he growled and watched the four faces disappear from his sight, screaming.

He sat up and found himself inside one of the ruined buildings. He was lying on a bed of straw and old blankets. "Where the hell am I." he thought to himself. He tried to swing is legs to the side but was stopped by a girls' voice: "You better not get up just yet. You have travelled far and require rest."

He turned his head to the corner where the voice came from. A girl, maybe no older than ten got up from the chair she had been sitting on. She gave him a cup, "Here, drink. It is not the best wine there is, I am sorry." He grabbed the cup and gulped down the wine: "It is wine, I don't care about the greatness." he mumbled. "Where am I. And who are you?" he asked, looking past the girl at the four young boys who had in the meantime dared to return.

"I am Isobelle, and these are my brothers." she replied, "You are in a small village just a few days ride from King's Landing. We found you just outside our house. You were fast asleep." The young boys drew closer. He looked at them and grimaced, not having forgotten the nasty words they had spoken just a few minutes ago. "Thanks for picking me up and letting me sleep here. I must go now." he grumbled and got up. He felt a bit dizzy but quickly steadied himself and walked towards the door.

One of the boys darted past him and barred the exit, "Don't go, you haven't told us who you are yet!" the boys exclaimed. "That's none of your business, get out of my way." The girl took the boy's hand, "Please sir, have a seat and rest some more. We don't get many visitors here. Tell us your story; we could use a little comfort." He sighed and shook his head, "My story is not one made to comfort people, but if you insist fine. I'll need another cup of that wine though."

The girl quickly poured him another cup and he sat back down on the bed, the young children gathered around him. "Six years ago, this god forsaken world turned into a living hell. As you may know there was a war, a big one. Stark, Baratheon, Lannister. All the big houses were fighting each other. From the North the White Walkers had closed in on the wall and I honestly thought we couldn't get ourselves in a deeper mess. But then came the day of the Dragon's Flame. Daenerys Targaryen had brought her dragons over from wherever she had been hiding since Robert Baratheon killed her father and they burnt everything down. Every castle, every village, everything was gone. The Starks and Stannis Baratheon were smart and bent the knee. The Lannisters…." he paused, "The Lannisters were not that clever. Pride is what cost them their heads in the end. And with the Wall breached and the Night's Watch nowhere to be found people ran to Daenerys for protection."

One of the boys spoke in a soft voice, "That was a mistake, wasn't it sir." He smiled at the boy, "Yes it was. A big one. Daenerys followed her father's footsteps and went mad. She ruined Westeros and everyone with it. You may have seen so yourself, life has been a living hell since her dragons fly the lands. But there is hope."

The young children all stared at him as if he were crazy. "There is?" the girl asked. He nodded, "There is a prophecy, a secret that has been hidden from everyone but it has now been revealed. Dragons cannot be beaten unless the blood of two Lannisters, twins, is mixed and forged into a sword of Valyrian steel." The children frowned, "But all the Lannisters are dead. The twins Cersei and Jaime have both been executed. Our father saw it with his own eyes!" one of the boys said.

He laughed a devilish laugh and said: "Yes, those two idiots are dead. But not all Lannisters are dead. And Jaime and Cersei were not the only Lannister twins. They were the only known twins, but not the only ones." The girl gasped, putting her hands in front of her mouth, "Who…who are you? Why do you…how do you know this?" she stuttered. He got up, grabbed a piece of old cloth from his pocket and held it up for them. It bore the Lannister lion. "My name is Tyrion Lannister, and I am looking for my twin sister. I think it is time someone cleans up this mess."

Authors note: So, we hope you liked it. Again, don't hesitate to leave a review! xoxo