*Sorry to people that had been reading my original This Is War, but I couldn't continue it the way it was, I got sort of bored and...well yeah. I made the characters slightly older so it wouldn't be freaky and it leaves more room for ideas, Rickon is seven, Bran is twelve, Arya is fourteen, Sansa is fifteen, Joffrey is fifteen, Jon is sixteen, Robb is sixteen. So anyway this is the re-make of it, William is still the main character in it and he's still a Lannister, but I didn't like the way I introduced him, so...yeah...Hope you enjoy it!
Jon Snow settled back on the bench amongst the younger squires. Jon watched the procession walk by. His lord father, Ned Stark, had come first escorting the queen. She was very beautiful, a jeweled tiara gleamed amidst her long golden hair, the emeralds matching her green eyes. Ned helped her up the steps of the dais and led her to her seat.
King Robert came next, with Lady Stark on his arm. After them came the children, Rickon came first, managing the walk with as much dignity as a seven year old could muster. Robb came close behind him, wearing grey wool trimmed with white, the Stark colors. He had the Princess Myrcella on his arm. Jon noticed the shy looks she gave Robb as they passed, and Robb had a large grin on his face.
Arya was next with plump young Tommen, whose white-blonde hair was longer than hers. Sansa was with the crown prince, Joffrey Baratheon. A thick tangle of blond curls dripped down past his golden choker and high velvet collar, he had his mother's emerald eyes. Sansa looked radiant as she walked beside him, but Jon didn't like Joffrey's pouty lips or the bored, disdainful way he looked at Winterfell's Great Hall.
He was more interested in the pair that were about to come next, the Lannisters of Casterly Rock. The Lion and the Imp; there was no mistaking which was which. Ser Jaime Lannister was twin to Queen Cersei; tall and golden, with flashing green eyes and a smile that cut like a knife. He wore crimson silk, high black boots, a black satin cloak. On the breast of his tunic, the lion of his House was embroidered in gold thread, roaring it's defiance, they called him the Lion of Lannister to his face and whispered 'Kingslayer' behind his back.
Then Jon looked at the other one, Tyrion Lannister, the second youngest of Tywin Lannister's children. All that the gods had given to Cersei and Jaime, they had denied Tyrion. He was a dwarf, half his brother's height. His head was too large for his body, one green eye and one black eye peered out from under a lank fall of hair so blonde it seemed white.
A young man snuck into the Great Hall just as the two Lannisters were about to walk up to the dais. He had short blonde hair and blue eyes, he looked a lot like his brother Jaime, but was a bit taller than Jaime, he looked muscular but was slender at the same time. He wore the black robes of the Night's Watch and grinned at Jaime and Tyrion, Jaime pulled his brother into a hug. The young man pushed his brothers forward and they continued on.
Theon Greyjoy was next, and Jon's uncle, Benjen Stark. The youngest Lannister, the young man that had just walked in, bowed to Benjen Stark. Benjen grinned at him and curtsied to him. The young Lannister held his arm out for Benjen, who grinned and looped his arm through it, before they walked to the dais. Jon smiled in amusement at Benjen and was amazed that the young Lannister could keep a straight face, Theon looked back every few seconds before turning back around and smiling.
As they walked by Jon, and Benjen looked over at him and smiled. The Lannister looked over at Jon, and he winked and grinned, his emotionless face was lit up with amusement. Jon thought that he was more handsome than Jaime. And it was then, while the Lannister was smiling at him in amusement, that Jon recognized the young Lannister, people called him the 'Wolf'. He was the liveliest, friendliest and easily the most amusing of the Lannisters.
As they reached the great table, the Lannister took a seat beside Jaime Lannister, and Jon watched in amazement, as both faces lit up even more, making them even more handsome than they were.
Jon stormed out of the Great Hall furious. "Boy," a voice called out to him. Jon turned around, Tyrion Lannister was sitting on the ledge above the door to the Great Hall, looking rather like a gargoyle. Tyrion grinned down at him and asked, "Is that animal a wolf?"
"A direwolf," Jon answered, "His name is Ghost." He stared up at Tyrion, his disappointment suddenly forgotten. "What are you doing up there? Why aren't you at the feast?" It was only then that Jon noticed that Tyrion's younger brother was sitting beside him. "I learned a long time ago that it's considered rude to vomit on your brothers," Tyrion answered. "And I learned that it's frowned upon to punch your brother after he throws up on you," his brother answered grinning.
"Might I have a closer look at your wolf?" Tyrion asked Jon. Jon hesitated then nodded slowly, "Can you climb down, or shall I bring a ladder." Tyrion's brother erupted into laughter. "Oh, bleed that," Tyrion said. He pushed himself off the ledge into the empty air, Jon gasped, then watched with awe as Tyrion Lannister spun around in a tight ball, landed lightly on his hands, then vaulted backward onto his legs. "Bravo!" his brother said clapping his hands and grinning. Ghost backed away from Tyrion uncertainly.
"I believe I've frightened your wolf," Tyrion said, "My apologies." Just as Jon was about to stand up for his wolf, the other Lannister jumped off his perch above the door. "He's not scared," the Lannister said grinning at the wolf, "Come on, I promise I don't bite, can't make any promises about Tyrion however." The wolf pup padded closer and nuzzled at Jon's face, but he kept a wary eye on Tyrion Lannister, and when the dwarf reached out to pet him, he drew back and bared his fangs in a silent snarl. "Shy isn't he?" Tyrion observed. "Cersei could learn something from him," the other Lannister muttered.
"Sit, Ghost," Jon commanded, "That's it. Keep still." He looked up at the dwarf. "You can touch him now. He won't move until I tell him to. I've been training him." "I see," Tyrion said, then ruffled the snow-white fur between Ghost's ears and said, "Nice wolf." "If I wasn't here, he'd tear out your throat," Jon said, it wasn't actually true yet, but it would be. "In that case; you better stay close," Tyrion replied. "I apologize," the other Lannister said to Jon, "My name is William Lannister, not many people know my name, they just call me the 'Wolf' or they don't really care because I don't turn up to court so they don't have to know my name."
"I am Tyrion Lannister," Tyrion said. "I know," Jon answered, he stood up. "You're Ned Stark's bastard aren't you?" Tyrion asked. Jon felt a coldness go through him, he pressed his lips together. William elbowed his brother and groaned. "Did I offend you?" Tyrion asked, and actually seemed rather sympathetic, "Sorry. Dwarfs don't have to be tactful, generations of capering fools in motley have won me the right to dress badly and say any damn thing that comes into my head." Tyrion grinned at Jon. "You are the bastard though?"
"Lord Eddard Stark is my father," Jon answered stiffly. "Yes, I can see it," Tyrion replied, "You have more of the North in you than your brothers." "Half-brothers," Jon corrected, but William could see that he was slightly please by Tyrion's comment. "You are still a Stark, to my eyes anyway," William said to Jon, and Jon's smile widened. "Let me give you some counsel bastard," Tyrion said to Jon, "never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength, then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it." "And it will never be used to hurt you," William finished.
"What do you two know about being a bastard?" Jon asked. "All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes," Tyrion answered. "The youngest son of Lord Tywin, and who has joined the Night's Watch basically giving up my chance at being Lord of Casterly Rock," William answered raising an eyebrow, "People frown upon that, oh and the fact that I always turned up to court covered in mud and always got in trouble." "You are your mother's trueborn son of Lannister," Jon replied. "Am I?" Tyrion replied sardonic, "Do tell my lord father, my mother died with worry for me, she had caught a fever while looking after me when I was injured, and my father's never been sure." "I don't even know who my mother was," Jon said.
"Some woman, no doubt, most of them are," Tyrion replied and gave Jon a rueful grin, "Remember this boy, all dwarfs may be bastards, yet not all bastards need be dwarfs." And with that, Tyrion turned and sauntered back into the feast, whistling a tune. When he opened the door, the light from within threw his shadow clear across the yard, and for just a moment Tyrion Lannister stood tall as a king. "I apologize for my brother," William said grimacing slightly, "But he gives good advice, you should follow it."
The day after the feast, Jon and William were sitting down watching the other boys practice their fighting. Jon was watching the action, so absorbed that he seemed unaware of her approach, until his white wolf moved to meet them. Nymeria stalked closer on wary feet. Ghost, already larger than his litter mates, smelled her, gave her ear a careful nip, and settled back down. Jon gave Arya a curious look, "Shouldn't you be working on your stitches, little sister?"
Arya frowned and made a face at Jon. "I wanted to see them fight," Arya said. "Come here then," Jon said to Arya. "Anyway, I'll slow your Septa down and give you a few minutes to make a fun for it if she finds you," William said grinning at her before jumping out of his seat and bowing to her, "I do apologize, William Lannister at your service my lady." Arya grinned at him, and William grinned back at her.
Arya climbed up on the window and sat beside Jon, to a chorus of thuds and grunts from the yard below. To her disappointment, it was the younger boys drilling. Bran was so heavily padded he looked as though he had belted on a featherbed, and Prince Tommen, who was plump to begin with, seemed positively round. They were huffing and puffing and hitting each other with padded wooden swords under the watchful eye of old Ser Rodrik Cassel, master-at-arms.
"A shade more exhausting than needlework," Jon observed. "A shade more fun than needlework," Arya said. Jon grinned reached over, and messed up her hair. Arya was flushed, they had always been close. "Why aren't you in the yard?" Arya asked him. Jon gave her a half-hearted smile. "Bastards are not allowed to damage young princes," Jon replied, "Any bruises they take in the practice yard must come from trueborn swords. "Oh," Arya said, and she saw William glaring at Joffrey. "If Joffrey wasn't there, I'd say I could get the Hound to help you lot fight," William muttered, "But oh no, Cersei's little boy has to be perfect."
Arya and Jon looked at William and burst out laughing. "I could do just as good as Bran," Arya said suddenly, "He's only twelve, I'm fourteen." Jon looked over at her, "You're too skinny I doubt you could even lift a longsword, little sister, never mind swing one." "I don't know about that Jon," William said looking at Arya, "I've got a small dagger, and while the others are all padded up and swinging their longswords, Arya would be quick and agile and would be able to quickly dodge their attacks and ware them out as well."
"You see Prince Joffrey?" Jon asked. Arya hadn't, not at first glance, but when she looked again she found him to the back, under the shade of the high stone wall. He was surrounded by men she didn't recognize, young squires in the livery of Lannister and Baratheon, they were all strangers. There were a few older men amongst them; knights.
"Look at the arms on his surcoat," Jon suggested. Arya looked, an ornate shield had been embroidered on the prince's padded surcoat. No doubt the needlework was exquisite. The arms were divided down the middle; on one side was the crowned stag of the royal House, on the other the lion of Lannister. "The Lannisters are proud," Jon said and glanced over at William apologetically, "You'd think the royal sigil would be sufficent, but no. He makes his mother's House equal in honor to the king's." "The woman is important too!" Arya protested and William grinned at her. "Perhaps, you should do the same thing, little sister," Jon suggested, "Wed Tully to Stark in your arms." "A wolf with a fish in its mouth?" William asked, and they all burst into laughter at that image.
"That would look silly," Arya said, "Besides, if a girl can't fight, why should she have a coat of arms?" "Girls get the arms but not the swords, bastards get the swords but not the arms, I did not make the rules, little sister," Jon answered. "When your older you could always enter a joust dressed up as a man," William suggested, "And then when you beat the knights, you can show yourself as a young woman and you will be asked if you'd like to be a knight."
There was a shout from the courtyard below, Prince Tommen was rolling in the dust, trying to get up and failing. All the padding made him look like a turtle on its back, Bran was standing over him, with upraised wooden sword, ready to whack him again, once he regained his feet. "Enough!" Ser Rodrick called out, "Well fought. Lew, Dennis help them out of their armor." He looked around. "Prince Joffrey, Robb, will you go another round?" Robb already sweaty from a previous bout, moved forward eagerly, "Gladly."
Joffrey moved into the sunlight in response do Rodrik's summons, his hair shone like spun gold. He looked bored and said, "This is a game for children, Ser Rodrik." "Then it should suit you just fine," William muttered under his breath, and Jon and Arya grinned.
Theon Greyjoy then said aloud, "You are children." William let out a roar of laughter, and Theon looked over at him and bowed slightly. "Robb may be a child," Joffrey replied, "I am a prince. And I grow tired of swatting at Starks with a play sword." "You bloody idiot, Robb is older than you," William muttered.
"You got more swats than you gave, Joff," Robb said, "Are you afraid?" "Oh terrified," Joffrey said mockingly, "You're so much older." Jon looked down on the scene with a frown. "Joffrey is truly a little shit," he told Arya, and William snorted. "He's worse than that," William muttered.
Ser Rodrik tugged thoughtfully at his white whiskers. "What are you suggesting?" he asked the prince. "Live steel," Joffrey answered. "Done," Robb said instantly, "You'll be sorry!" "Live steel is too dangerous," Ser Rodrik said putting a hand on Robb's shoulder, "I will permit you tourney swords, with blunted edges." Joffrey said nothing, but a man strange to Arya, a tall knight with black hair and burn scars on his face, pushed forward in front of the prince, "This is your prince. Who are you to tell him he may not have an edge on his sword, ser?"
"Master at arms of Winterfell, Clegane, and you would do well not to forget it," Ser Rodrik replied. "Are you training women here?" the burned man wanted to know, he was muscled like a bull. "I am training knights," Ser Rodrik said pointedly, "They will have steel when they are ready. When they are of an age."
"How old are you boy?" the burned man asked Robb. "Sixteen," Robb answered. "I killed a man at twelve, you can be sure it was not with a blunt sword," the man said. Arya could see Robb bristle, his pride was wounded he turned on Ser Rodrik, "Let me do it. I can beat him." "Beat him with a tourney blade then," Ser Rodrik said. Joffrey shrugged, "Come and see me when you're older, Stark. If you're not too old." There was laughter from the Lannister men, Robb's curses rang through the yard, and Arya saw William jump out of the window and walked over to them, Theon Greyjoy seized Robb's arm to keep him away from the prince.
"Come, Tommen," Joffrey said to his younger brother and feigned a yawn, "The hour of play is done. Leave the children to their frolics." "You do realize that Robb is in fact protecting you, oh dearest nephew," William said, "If he did actually injure you or draw blood, you would go running to Cersei and she would order Robb's execution and then Ned Stark would ask for justice for his son, and we would have a civil war on our hands, and let me tell you something, I think I would side with the Starks." The burned knight nodded to William as a sign of respect, Arya and Jon hadn't even seen him do that to Joffrey, William nodded back to him. Joffrey and his friends left.
"The show is done," Jon said to Arya as he climbed off the window, "You had best run back to your room, little sister. Septa Mordane will surely be lurking. The longer you hide, the sterner the penance. You'll be sewing all through winter. When the spring thaw comes, they will find your body with a needle still locked tight between your frozen fingers." Arya didn't think it was very funny, "I hate needlework! It's not fair!"
"Nothing is fair," Jon said, he messed up her hair again and walked away from her and towards William. Ghost moving silently beside him, Nymeria started to follow too, then stopped and came back when she saw that Arya was not coming. Reluctantly, she turned in the other direction.