Game of thrones AU

A/N: this is my first fic and I can't believe the amount of research you have to do to Martins world. It would have been so much easier to do Harry Potter fanfic, but ah I guess it too late now.

A/N: edit, extended and improved 25/04/15

A/N: again edited and greatly improved with by new writing buddy : LightInTheDark245 (28/04/15)

-Prologue-

GEROLD

Gerold Hightower, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard to Aerys II Targaryen, sat in a inn in a small village just outside of Pentos, reminiscing about all of his past mistakes and failures. How will the maesters remember me? Who will finish my chapter in the White Book? The disgraced Lord Commander and his Mad King.

The last of the Targaryen's had died while under his watch.

Flash Back

He stood close behind the young pair, as they walked through the crowded streets of Pentos, browsing for wine for the gathering to be held tonight: a celebration of another year hidden from the Usurper. Daenerys, unmistakable with her white hair and violet eyes, drew away from the group as she approached a bald, overweight merchant selling Arbour wine. Her brother, a tall, imposing figure, followed closely behind, and inspected the merchant with narrowed eyes. He had insisted that they must have 'proper' wine at the celebration, not the 'watered piss' that the people from Essos drink. He believed himself the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and so his word was law.

Gerold made sure to keep a good distance from them, and he quickly glanced around to make sure they weren't being followed through the city.

"I will have three barrels of your best wine for my gathering tonight." Viserys stated snidely, looking disdainfully at the merchant. The old knight had never liked the way the boy looked down on those he considered inferior to himself. No, he had always doted on Daenerys, who was kind and gentle and eager to learn from him the ways of the Westerosi courts, and the history of her family.

"Of course ser, but surely you would like to taste the wine first?" asked the merchant in an accent Gerold easily placed as Westerosi.

"Yes, I suppose I should try it first, seeing as I will be buying so much. It is the least you can do for me." He declared, snatching a goblet of the wine proffered by the merchant.

"And the princess? Would her Grace care to taste?"

"Yes, of course, she must learn about proper wine sooner rather than later." He commented dryly, gesturing to his sister, and taking a sip of his goblet.

It dawned on the Lord Commander too late. He lunged forwards and knocked the wine from his king's hands and then Daenery's, who had already began to turn purple. It was too late for him to save them, all he could do was hold the princess as she collapsed, her brother already passed on as he had drank much more before her.

Dany began to struggle for breath, her chest heaving and her hands clawing at her throat. Tears welled in the old man's eyes, and he closed them and pressed a kiss to her forehead in grief. She weakly lifted her hand to cup his cheek, and as her final breath passed her lips, her hand dropped to her side.

With dawning comprehension and increasing fury, he turned to look for the wine merchant. The fat man had vanished, but the same could not be said for his strong smelling perfume that still lingered in the air.

That same day, he found himself wandering through the town, and stumbled into a dirty inn on the side of the road, planning to drown his sorrows in the same thing that took his surrogate daughter from him.

I will tear down those Usurpers from their pretty little keeps if it is the last thing I do. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New. For killing my Dany, yes, I will do this for her. I will bring justice to her family, and peace to her soul.

He had to focus on the present. The logical side of him knew this. There were too many of the Usurper's dogs sniffing around Pentos. Gerold knew that they would still be looking for him, as word of the Targaryen murder spread through Essos and Westeros. He would have to go into hiding until the heat had died down, and it was safe for him to approach Targaryen loyalists.

For now, his best option was to sign the paper in front of him.

"I am promised anonymity if I sign?" He asked the two men in front of him, both well-built and younger than he.

They looked at each other and nodded. "Sign here. Being a sellsword can do great things for men like you." One said, nodding at with his sword, clearly impressed.

Gerold bent down and signed his elaborate signature that had been beaten into him as a child for moments such as these.

"I look forward to working with you and your men. Where are we heading?"

"Yunkai."

JON / EDDARD

The babe enters the world with a howling cry, its body ripping away from his mother's womb leaving nothing but blood in its wake.

This is how Ned Stark finds her. This is what makes the northman cry.

"Promise me, Ned," she says with her dying breath, as her chest slows and the last of her breath leaves her.

Promise me, Ned.

Those are the words that haunt him, the look in her eyes as her life slips away, hers in place of the child whose father is not her betrothed. But the babe is hers and so Ned loves him. He vows to raise the child, protect him from his otherwise doomed fate.

And when the babe's eyes open and he knows that while the blue of infanthood will slowly give way to the purple of his ancestors.

He will not know his mother, but he shall know a father. He shall be given the name of a bastard child of the north, for there is winter in his blood and Stark in his look.

He shall be the child of Lord Eddard Stark; a bastard, but a child of Winterfell nonetheless.

AN: first chapter of my first story's! Despite what this chapter might suggest this story will be Jon centric.

AN2: I also aim to have the actually chapter a lot longer that this one. But I couldn't think of much to write.

AN3: it might be a little longer that you might want before an update as I'm looking to complete th first 5-10 chapters before I start posting the rest of the story.

AN4: if anyone wants to edit and improve feel free to contact me (have found someone)

(AN5: I promise never to do this many authors notes ever again)