II.

For what Jon could remember at the young age of six, he's never lived anywhere but Winterfell. He couldn't remember a time when it wasn't snowing or cold outside. The ancient castle was his home. There were times, however, when it did not feel like home. He attributed that feeling to learning that this wasn't actually his home.

His parents were dead. Uncle Ned wouldn't tell him how they died, but they weren't here anymore. The only thing he knew was that his mother was Dornish and his father was Uncle Ned's older brother. That explained things to Jon who always had a feeling that Lady Stark was never his mother. She never treated him the way she treated Robb. It bothered him, but he never mentioned it. He felt strange bringing it up to anyone.

"So, Robb isn't my brother." Jon had meant it as a question, but he knew better than that.

"He's your cousin," answered Uncle Ned.

"What about Daenerys?" he asked, remembering the little girl that followed him and Robb around. She was young, but played like she was a big kid so he and Robb tolerated her.

"Daenerys?" Uncle Ned repeated, surprised.

"Is she my sister? Or is she Robb's?" Jon questioned.

"She's no one sister," he replied then smiled. "Do you want her to be your sister?"

Jon shrugged. "I'm only asking. What happened to her parents?"

Uncle Ned's smile disappeared. Jon felt bad for asking, but his uncle answered. "They're dead, but don't tell her that. Okay, Jon?"

He nodded and laughed when Uncle Ned tousled his hair. After that, things hadn't changed between him, Robb, and Dany. They still played their favorite game where they defended the Wall from the Others. Sometimes they played outlaws and other time they played knights and dragons, but Dany never wanted to be the fair maiden. Neither he or Robb minded that she pretended to be a knight like them.

She wasn't brave like them, though.

For the past three days, it was snowing heavily outside. The snow fell so hard that Uncle Ned forbid them from playing in the yard. That restricted them to Old Nan's room where she regaled them with tales of the last hero and the Night's King. Her stories terrified Jon, but he was the oldest so he couldn't be afraid. When it came time for bed, Jon was glad he shared a room with Robb.

"Do you think the Night's King is still alive?" Robb asked in the dark room.

"No," Jon lied. He tried to sound relaxed. "Once you die, you can't come back."

"So, his ghost won't come here?"

"Ghosts aren't real. Just ask Maester Luwin."

"Old Nan says there are ghosts."

"But she isn't a maester."

"I guess you're right," Robb conceded. He yawned and Jon himself felt sleepy. "Goodnight, Jon."

"Night, Robb," he murmured, turning to his side.

It felt like the minute he closed his eyes, he was awake again. Jon blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He stiffened when he heard whispering near Robb's bed. Jon forgot how to breathe when the whispering stopped and small feet moved towards his bed. He let out a relieved breath when it was just Dany.

"Jon? Are you awake?" she asked quietly.

"What are you doing here?" Jon asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

"I'm scared the Night's King is going to get me," Dany admitted then tugged at his blanket. "Can I sleep with you?"

"I don't think that's proper," he said, frowning.

"Please, Jon," she pleaded, sounding scared and awfully like a three-year-old.

Jon was certain it wasn't proper for a girl and boy to share a bed unless they were wedded, but nevertheless helped Dany climb into his bed. He was supposed to protect her. No one told him to, but she had no parents like him, so he guessed the job fell onto him. Next to him, Dany smelled sweet like lavenders.

Curling closer, Dany murmured, "Thank you, Jon."

He said nothing, only trying to go back to sleep.

Life at Winterfell was starting to become comfortable when Ned received a raven from Robert Baratheon that he needed his help in invading the island of Pyke.

For the past few months, Ned had been receiving raven after raven about the Greyjoys attacks along the surrounding coasts of the Sunset Sea and while Ned had no love for the Lannisters, he found it unmerited that the Greyjoys would launch a surprise attack on Lannisport, one of the most populous cities in Westeros.

Robert needed all the men Ned could rally in the North. Ned, ever so dutiful of his king and friend, called forth the North's bannermen. The lords and their hosts came, though Ned could see the reluctance on their faces. His decision to keep Daenerys Targaryen as a ward still chafed the Northern lords, but it mattered nothing to Ned what their opinion on the subject. He refused not to honor Rhaella's dying wish to care for her daughter.

The Great Hall was much rowdier than usual with the Greatjon demanding the bard Wyman Manderly brought to sing bawdy songs. Catelyn's courtesies were much appreciated by Ned, charming the lords seated around her with her beauty and kindness. He couldn't help but stay reserved, only offering quiet conversations to anyone who engaged in one with him.

Quieting down the hall, Ned stood from his chair. He explained their plan to attack the island of Pyke and was unsurprisingly met with opposition.

"Why should we follow you into battle?" questioned Rickard Karstark. "You're letting some dragonspawn live in your home! After all the madness her father has done to us!"

"Yes," Ned agreed, "After all the madness her father has done. Daenerys had no dealing with my family's deaths. She is only a child and has done me no harm. Now, if any of you are so frightened of a mere child then I will not stop you if refuse to join me."

The Greatjon stood from his chair, puffed out his broad chest, and declared, "I do not fear a child, much less that of a Targaryen!"

More men let out exclamations similar to the Greatjon's and Ned could see Lord Karstark's face flush with embarrassment. He told them of Robert's plan to take Pyke and end Greyjoy's rebellion, and was pleased when many of the lords loudly proclaimed they would join him, including Lord Karstark.

They marched towards the Westerlands where they met with Robert and his men. Contrary to what Ned thought Robert would do, he pulled Ned in a bone-crushing hug. He eagerly invited Ned to his tent and offered him some wine.

"More for me," Robert said when Ned declined. "How's your boy? Have any more?"

"Not yet. Robb is five and Catelyn gave birth to a girl two years ago. She's with child now," Ned told him. "Congratulations on your son. I believe he was born the same year Sansa was."

"Mayhap our children will wed once they are of age," Robert suggested after taking a long drink from his cup. "Cersei is with child as well. Hopefully it will be another boy, one that actually looks like me."

"Don't you have a son that looks like you?" Ned inquired, remembering the mischief Robert got himself into at Stannis's wedding.

"Do I?" Robert's face went blank then lit up when he remembered. "Oh! You're talking about the boy I fathered on Delena Florent. I'm sure he has my visage. The girl back at the Vale does."

"I'm shocked you remember her," Ned admitted.

Robert barked out a laugh. "It is too bad most men do not hear how much you jest."

"I suppose you are lucky."

"I suppose I am."

A comfortable silence fell over them until Ned decided they needed to focus on their plan of seizing Pyke.

Everything was a blur for the young Greyjoy.

He was Ironborn, a son of Pyke, his god was the Drowned God of the islands, but in the next instance, Theon was now a hostage of the North, his life held in the hands of Lord Stark, a man with cold grey eyes. Theon remembered his mother crying and begging him not to leave, his sister Asha telling him not to forget her, and lastly his father reminding him that he was the son of the Lord Reaper of Pyke and he should never forget where he came from.

It was overwhelming for a ten-year-old boy, but Theon put on a brave face and promised them all what they wished to hear.

As he traveled to Winterfell with his captor, Theon was startled when the man told him, gently, about how he had a son and nephew around his age and another ward living with them and how everyone in Winterfell would treat him kindly. No one had ever spoken to Theon in that sort of tone before and it was disconcerting. Back on Pyke, he had brothers of his own, but they were slain in battle—not that Theon cared. Rodrik and Maron had been cruel to him, making him the subject of their mean-spirited japes. The only man who ever gave Theon smiles and kindness was Dagmer, the old raider who taught him how to ride, how to sail, and how to use the bow.

Snow fell lightly around them as they went through a town outside of the castle. Theon was tempted to ask why the town was so empty, but refrained from doing so. He still found Lord Stark intimidating and wouldn't open his mouth unless someone addressed him. It was usually Lord Stark who addressed him, but the man did not speak much, even to his own men who spoke loudly in a fashion that reminded Theon of the Ironborn.

Finally, they reached Winterfell.

Waiting by the gates were an auburn-haired woman, one so lovely she made Theon's chest tighten, holding a small girl in her arms and holding the hand of a young boy, both who shared the woman's lovely features. Theon realized they must have been Lord Stark's family, but wondered where his nephew hid. Dread spread throughout him when he briefly wondered if his nephew was older. He could not deal with another Rodrik and Maron.

The boy let go of his mother's hand and ran over to Lord Stark as he and Theon dismounted. Jealousy struck through him as Lord Stark smiled for the first time Theon met him. He gave his son a quick hug before standing back to his full height and taking the girl from his wife's arms. Theon's father never smiled in his presence nor ever gave him a hug.

Is this how it is in the North? Theon wondered, watching uncomfortably as Lord Stark greeted the rest of his family. He stiffened when the boy bounded over to him grinning.

"I'm Robb! Who are you?" he exclaimed.

"Theon of House Greyjoy, heir to the Iron Islands," Theon answered, straightening his stance.

"I'm an heir too," Robb said affably. He turned and gestured to the girl in Lord Stark's arms. "That's my sister, Sansa. I have another sister, Arya, but she was just born and has to stay inside."

"Your father said you have a cousin?" Theon found himself asking.

Robb's blue eyes lit up and he nodded his head rapidly. "His name's Jon, he's the best. Father! Can I show Theon around?"

Lord Stark looked between the boys and Theon tried not to look down at the ground. "Try not to get into too much trouble."

The thought of punishment from Lord Stark terrified Theon, but Robb laughed and led him inside the castle, easing his worries. Theon tried to listen to Robb as he guided him around the castle, but his mind was trying to process his new home. Robb took him upstairs to a bedroom where a black-haired boy, who looked more Stark than Robb did, sat on his bed talking to a girl.

"This is Jon—" he gestured to the boy. "—and that's Dany. She's a ward like you." Robb took his arm and presented him. "This is Theon! He's from the Iron Islands."

"Where are you from?" Theon asked the girl. He had never seen a girl like her, with her unusual, silvery-blonde hair and odd eyes.

"Lord Stark says I was born on Dragonstone," replied Dany then gave him a cheeky smile. "People call me Daenerys Stormborn."

Her words registered in his head and he widened his eyes in realization. Her father was Mad Aerys, her forebear Aegon the Conqueror. Before he could speak, Robb suggested they come along and help him show Theon around Winterfell.

"How good are you with a sword, Theon?" Robb inquired as they roamed through the empty corridors.

"Splendid, but I fare better with the bow," he answered, though he was telling half-truths. Dagmer had encouraged him to hone his archery skills than his sword hand, telling him he would never be the Kingslayer when it came to swordplay.

"Have you fought with steel?" Jon questioned, breaking his silence.

"Once, but that was between me and my brother Maron," he said, frowning from the memory. Maron had demanded to see how well he fared with the sword and had laughed his arse off when Theon accidentally cut himself with the steel.

"How many brothers do you have?" Robb asked.

"None. Both were slain in battle," Theon told them, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"Where is Sansa?" Dany suddenly asked.

"Last time I saw her, she was with Mother," Robb said then whirled, slowing down their pace. "What should we do?"

"We could go to the yard," suggested Jon. Robb and Dany eagerly agreed, while Theon only followed because he had nothing better to do.

When they reached the yard, Robb introduced Theon to a stout man, with thick grey whiskers. The man was named Ser Rodrik Cassel, the master-at-arms of Winterfell, and looked at Theon inquisitively when Robb began telling him of Theon's skill with the bow.

Shut up, you stupid boy, Theon thought, panicking.

"You should demonstrate for us, Theon," Robb insisted then urged Ser Rodrik to retrieve a bow.

"Fine," he relented, unable to refuse. If he did, he was certain someone would tell his father and the man would castrate him for being craven and not acting Ironborn.

Ser Rodrik handed him a longbow, one that was a little taller than Theon himself. He positioned himself in line of the target, drew out the string, and let the arrow sail and hit the edge of the center of the target. Theon cursed under his breath, annoyed that he didn't hit dead center, but was startled when Robb and Dany started shouting at the same time.

"That was incredible," Robb said after noticing Theon's confused expression.

"You're splendid like you said," Dany added, impressed.

Their compliments made Theon's pride swell, and he stood up a little straighter and grinned. "Well, I am the best bowman on Iron Islands."

And one of the few bowmen on the Iron Islands, but none of them needed to know that.

It was after the Karstarks visited Winterfell that Ned figured it was time for her to know the truth.

Lord Rickard Karstark was still uncomfortable around Daenerys, but hadn't brought her up during the feast. It wasn't until the wine had been passed around did some of his bannermen accuse Ned of refusing a betrothal between Lord Karstark's daughter Alys and Robb because he was "saving" him for Daenerys. That had ended the visit quicker than anticipated.

His own children began asking more frequently why Daenerys was there and why no one seemed to like her. Sansa even inquired if Daenerys was a bastard like Jon, but Ned managed to tell them some of her history.

"Her mother died bringing her into this world," Ned explained one night. "Her father was killed and her brother slain in battle against King Robert."

"Who was her father?" Jon inquired, curious.

"The king before," Ned answered, unwilling to go further. He didn't want them to know of Mad Aerys just yet.

"So she was a princess?" Sansa widened her eyes at the realization. Ned nodded, and the little girl's eyes grew bigger. "Is she still a princess?"

"No longer. She is my ward."

"What does that mean?"

"It means she will live with us for a long time."

"That's good," Jon mumbled and Ned smiled.

"She can still be your friend, even if she isn't your sister," he told them, ruffling Jon's black hair. "Treat her kindly. She has no one else."

"Don't worry, Father!" Robb gave him a determined look. "Dany is great! We'll always be her friend. Right, Jon? Sansa?"

"Right," Jon affirmed quietly.

It was later that night when he led Daenerys to his solar that he was unable to ignore the twist in his gut. Daenerys started to get to her feet, but Ned stopped her and joined her on the floor. She beamed at him and Ned could scarcely ignore the surge of guilt. With a heavy sigh, he began to explain to her who she truly was.

Ned would never forget how her smile died.

For a moment, Dany had forgotten what happiness tasted like.

She was young, but she could never fail to remember the day Lord Stark sat her down and told her the truth behind the name Targaryen.

Her father, Aerys II, had been the king before Robert Baratheon, one of Lord Stark's closest friends. From what he told her, her father had been unfit to rule and could not care for his people and certainly not Dany. Still, there had been a bit of sadness in her when he revealed that he had been killed by a young man that he refused to name before she was born. Her mother, Rhaella, had been his queen as well as his sister.

"It is what your family does," Lord Stark had said once he noticed the puzzled look on Dany's face. "You hail from Valyria and from there your people had no qualms over wedding a brother to a sister."

Her mother's death saddened her more than her father's. She had given up her life so Dany could live hers and Dany hated how she had no way of ever thanking her for it. Then there was her brother, Rhaegar, a prince slain by King Robert himself.

"Why did he kill my brother?" Dany had asked as she rubbed her eyes. Her tears had begun blurring her vision.

Lord Stark had been unable to look at her directly then. "Rhaegar did something bad, Daenerys. Something that I will tell you of once you're older."

The only good thing he told her was that she had another brother, one named Viserys, but then she learned he lived worlds away in a place called the Free Cities. Dany didn't think she'd be able to ever meet her older brother.

She had been pulled into Lord Stark's arms, his hold filling Dany with warmth not expected from the withdrawn lord. Dany remembered him promising her that he'd always protect her and that would he always be a daughter to him, even though she wasn't his blood. That only made her cry harder.

When she had finally calmed down, Lord Stark led her to her rooms. Dany had hidden there for a few days until Robb, Jon, and Sansa came looking for her.

"Are you ill?" Sansa asked, concerned. "Should I get Maester Luwin?"

"No," Dany answered, hiding under the furs. "I'm fine."

"Then where have you been?" Robb questioned, climbing onto her bed.

"Why do you care?" she demanded, pulling the furs off her to look at them. "Didn't your father tell you? I am not your sister."

It was quiet for a while before Jon and Sansa climbed on the bed and nudged her. She looked at him and his cousins, frowning more at how different she looked from the three of them. Jon had grey eyes so dark they looked black from a distance and thick black hair curling over his earlobes, while Robb and Sansa had blue eyes prettier than the sky on a clear day and reddish-brown hair. After taking a look at herself in the mirror, Dany thought she looked freakish with her purple eyes and silver hair.

How did I ever think I was a Stark? Dany asked herself, feeling foolish.

"So?" was Robb's eventual reply. "If you can't be my sister then you can be my friend."

Dany's gaze softened and she felt her face break into a wide, relieved smile. "Truly?" she found herself asking.

"We wouldn't desert you," Jon assured her.

Her smile got wider and Dany pulled them all into a hug. When their embrace ended, Robb suggested they play their favorite game where they defended the Wall from the Others. Dany followed them, overjoyed and thankful that they accepted her.