This is being remade, in part because I made a 14 year old so insanely politcally powerful and skilled for like... no reason. I allowed my peeves with the series to overpower logic. I have gotten far better over the last year so this is my reattempt to make this series worthy of what it could really be.

I hope you enjoy.

P.S. Not everything will beoutright changed, some chapter were utterly perfect but the arrogance of Arryn will be toned down as will the overpowered knowledge and control of others...

Robb- 17

Jon Snow- 16

Joffery- 16

Arryn-14

Myrcella- 11

Tommen- 10 ( It says he is eight and ten in season one but I am going with the older number due to recasting and the issues with chronology)

'What a glorious stench, a far cry from the cabal of shit and piss filling the air of Kingslanding.' Arryn took in another breath, almost desperate to chase away the memory, the nightmare that was the air of Kingslanding. 'Better not let mother hear me, she would not be pleased... sigh...' Urging his horse forward, he made a point to keep position, just behind his brother Joeffrey, exactly two horses lengths away. It was the only by obeying this rule, signifying his status as Joeffry's less important younger brother, that he was allowed to ride his horse instead of hiding in the carriage with his mother and siblings. The rocking of the carriage would do little for what little strength he had some how managed to keep on the month long trip to Winterfell. As it was he was having trouble breathing, the harsh cold wind was murder on his already straining lungs even if it smelled nice.

Of course... it wasn't just the condition of his body that impeded any desire to travel in the carriage. Truthfully the mere notion of riding in that bumpy carriage, trapped for weeks and weeks with his horrid mother was more unbearable to him then enduring the stench of Kingslanding. Even the uncomfortable pressure of his horse rubbing into his taint was less painful, no matter how bow legged he walked afterwards.

"Ahh, now this is country. Gods I missed this." Robert's achingly strenuous voice echoed out, slamming against Arryn in a reminder of his father's presence. The man, red faced and already reeking ever so slightly of wine and whatever whore he had stuck himself inside of the night before. "Come on you lot, we are not far off. An hour at the most. MOVE!"

With a final bellow, Robert almost charged... almost, only to stop at the sight of the massive unnecessary train of people, horses and carriages following him. Holding him back from the happiness that apparently lay in the gloriousness that apparently was Winterfell. Sighing, the man looked away, disgusted and filled to the brim with a familiar emptiness that Arryn had seen countless times on his father's face... it was there nearly daily, whenever the real world came knocking into Robert's fantasy or fucks. Whenever he had to remember that he was a father, king or a thousand other titles... he saw the same look in Joeffery's eyes whenever the moron was unable to act upon his own impulses but that was neither here nor there.

Winterfell came into full view nearly twenty minutes later, and it was massive. Not as impressive or wide or tall as Kingslanding, the castle that bore the King and the sycophants within. However there was a majesty about the sprawling fortress, it was clearly meant for and built for war and survival. There was not countless decorations and indulgent spirals or towers. It was concise, simple and proud... which apparently was what the Northmen were like, if his father's drunken rants were to be believed.

Arryn knew he'd see the truth soon enough... but that wasn't what he was looking forward too... no, his mind went to another place entirely.

'Miles of aqueducts siphoning the hotsprings the various baths... and it doesn't reek of shit, so they have to have a way to dispose of their shit without tossing it into the streets. Are there sewers underground? Maybe father's love of this place will allow me the chance to convince him to propose a plan to establish such systems in Kingslanding… ' It took everything he had not to cackle loudly at the thought, the mere notion was too much for him to handle. Still, years of experience and his mother's glares made it very easy to hold off feeling anything outloud. 'Snort, like that would work. The fool is rarely sober enough to hear my voice let alone listen to such diverse planning... pity...'

His father, as it turned out, was wrong. Winterfell took nearly three hours to reach and with the passing of each hour Robert became more and more unbearably obnoxious, whining loudly and sending vicious loathing filled glares towards them all. Thankfully Arryn received no special attention with each glare, nor did Jeoffery… though his Mother's carriage did take more then it's fair share of hate. No one was really surprised.

Winterfell was even more impressive up close, even when filled with still and whispering peasants and it's people seemed to almost take after it. Cloaked in furs with dark hair and fair skin, they looked the definition of wild and untamed, like their land. The Starks stood out in perfect contrast to the rest, for like most Nobles they were the best dressed, most clean and the least excited. Not counting the children of course.

Eddard Stark was a tall man with long brown hair and a beard that was trimmed short unlike his father's wild scruff, in the center of his face was a rather impressive beak not unlike a birds. The years had clearly taken a toll on him, his age showed however it was also clear that he was a warrior, his body was strong and rigid. He was dressed in dark clothes which suited him well. He was a handsome man, stoic as the who called himself his father had reminicised over the past month, often while drunker then a skunk.

His wife, Lady Caitlyn Tully Nee Stark was a gorgeous red head with fair complexion and perfect cheek bones. He knew people said his mother was the most beautiful women in all seven kingdoms, but to be honest he was sure Catlyn was more beautiful. Perhapt it was her warmth, or the comfort she had? Either way he knew that he was going to draw her and present her with the image. She would make a wonderful model for his work. Her cheekbones were a gift from the gods and the elegant curve of her eyes were blessings on their own.

The same thing could be said for her eldest son, Robb if he remembered correctly. A wave a heavy heat washed through Arryn's body at the boy's face. He was strong, firm with coppery colored hair and the most luscious skin. High cheekbones like his mother and a strong jaw like his father, he was a far sight better then even that oaf Loras everyone ranted about. Arryn wanted to bed him, but knew that it would never happen... well it wasn't likely. As he had discovered many people shared his taste for the same sex and from what he red, the North had a much brighter view of same sex couplings. There was an age gap though, sadly... so that might be an issue.

Sansa equaled her brother in beauty, she was a tall girl with flawless red hair and another set of lovely cheekbones. She was immature in her beauty but the marks for goddess like beauty was clear, he just hoped she wouldn't be a cunt like his mother. Her dress was an odd choice though, a light blue that made her almost see through. It was strange for northerner, he knew she would be better in a lighter color or even black, but he had a feeling she would never wear it.

Then there was another girl, Arya his father had said, though she lacked her mother's beauty or even her fathers. It was clear from her figiditing and glares that she was not comfortable, perhaps she had the same wildness his father had drunkenly stated Lyanna had once possessed? He would have to see for himself... he could envision her, for some reason, garbed leather bound like a warrior of Essos, like the few he had seen participate in the tournies Robert ordered about. He wasn't sure why.

The other two boys were too young to really get any interesting looks at, they just looked young and childish, but he hoped they were kind. Tommen and Myrcella rarely had playmates, having two others to play with would be a rare boon for the lonely twosome. He would have to push them in that direction, especially if the cold continued to impede his body.

Naturally, his father was the first to come off of his horse. It required several men and a stepstool but someone the horse did not sway to the ground. With his enormous belly leading him, his father approached Ned Stark who kneeled, along side the rest of the Starks... a stupid thing really, the ground was worn and muddy and cold and would damage their clothing. It seemed a pointless gesture, one Arryn loathed.

After a subtle hand gesture, Lord Stark rose and said something Arryn couldn't hear... in fact he realty couldn't hear much until his father said.

"You've gotten fat."

It took a moment but soon laughter echoed from Lord Stark and his father and like brother's they embraced.

'So he can show love to a man he has not seen in near a decade but not his own children?' A familiar exhaustion, one not caused by his illness crept in his heart and he turned gazing at his true father, Jaime Lannister's armored face. 'Well as far he knows we are his children. Sigh...'

"Take me to your crypt. I want to pay my respects." His father's voice echoed and he knew that trouble would brew.

Turning to his mother, a look of pain in her eyes as she stood next to him ( Clearly Arryn had missed her exiting the carrriage. ) told him he was right. "We've been riding for a month, My love. Surely the dead can wait."

A cold look crossed his father's face, and he just said "Ned!" And stormed off, leaving the awkward silence fill the courtyard.

With some struggle, Arryn managed to get himself off of his horse, just barely masking the grimace as waves of pain and weariness took him hard. 'Damn this illness, damn you Mother for laying with your brother.' Aches blossomed over his body, his breathe leaving him. It took all he had to not curse at her in person, for it truly was her fault. Like with Joeffery's madness, he knew his ailment was born of his mother breaking the laws of the so called gods and breeding with Jaime. He had caught them together more then once, not that they knew... more over, it was hardly a court secret. Anyone with eyes could see it, they had never been indiscrete. He knew that Mrycella had figured it out as well, they had spoken as much to each other in the rare times they were alone.

"Where's the imp?" A voice, sweet and curious, rang in the air and it gave him a perfect way to hide his status.

Without waiting he turned to his mother and smiled softly. "Mother, I can collect my Uncle. I need to walk off the stiffness from the ride here anyway."

Cersei, who had turned to Jaime with disdain in her eyes, blinked at him slowly like a cow. Then she smiled and nodded. "Are you sure you can find him, my love?" She always called him her love, he guessed it was due to his looking more like Jaime then the rest of his siblings.

"Brothels are easy to find, just find a line of men with empty pockets and grins." He really didn't mind brothels, having visited them a few times to draw the whores whenever he needed a naked model. His mother didn't know that, nor had anyone with any merit. "I will be back shortly, I promise."

Satisfied that she would not have to leave her secret lover's side, his mother smiled in relief. " As you wish, my love."

With that, Arryn handed his horse off to a random servant and hustled towards the center of the town. The sword dangling from his waist, which he was more then capable with, kept others at bay long enough to find the brothel. Really the loud moans that echoed from building made it easy to find, but he did not enter it... no, he hurried to the side and broke down, coughing in agony until black spots broke across his vision. All the strength evaporated from his limbs and nearly collapsed, only the brick walls on either side of him kept him standing.

"Damn this... Mother, Jaime... you will pay for cursing me with this illness, I promise you.' As always, whenever his illness struck, his mind went back to the Targeryns and all he had read about them. The cost of their desire for purity, for power. It tore then apart, making many of them ugly and sterile and unintelligent as often as it made them mad. Many had a blood disease, a few went blind. His curse was a weak body, constant aches and a feeling as if he was suffocating... something that even a few of the Targeryns had. 'Why couldn't Joff have this condition, it would have killed his evil heart a long time ago...damn you mother.'

Slowly, from his left pocket, he pulled a rolled bunch of herbs and lit them with one of the matches he always carried on him. He didn't care if his mother would disapprove, but in his research he had learned that this plant eased pain and tremors, which was exactly what he needed. No one knew he smoked it, he mixed lavender in the weed so it smelled softer, more like the perfumes and soap his mother liked.

Within minutes the herbs potency was once again proven, and he was able to relax enough that he could stand fully. His breathing leveled out, his body's constant countless aches faded away and he was able to fully embrace the beauty of Winterfell once more.

'I hope there is enough for my stay here... and the ride back. I don't know if I can bear a full ride on horse without it... '

Sighing, he waited until he breathe returned before marching in to find his Uncle.

'''

A soft knock destroyed Tyrion's concentration, his erection wilting as one of his nephew's marched into the room, staring at him with his cold green eyes. Arryn, raising a light brow, looked at him with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. His eyes were bloodshot, his skin pale, a clear sign that his illness had taken it's toll on his body. Interrupting him or not, Tyrion's heart filled with worry and pain at the sight of his beloved nephew in such pain and discomfort.

"Beloved Nephew, do you know the meaning of a closed door in a whore house?"

Ross, his current lover, seemed a little surprised at his usage of the word Nephew. " My Lord." She said, attempting to look respectful, though it was very clear she was more then amused.

"Yes, Uncle, unlike Joeffery, this is not a new experience for me." He said the words with a sneer, reminding Tyrion far too much of his father for comfort, despite the pride the words brought him.

To think a sickly boy, so sickly that he was no longer second in line for the throne due to the fear that he would die while on the throne, would have already lost his virginity! "Something we should celebrate, what do you say Ross?" He smirked at the women, making his intentions to tease or call his nephew's bluff perfectly clear.

The women let out a seductive laugh, parting her auburn hair to show her impressive bust. "It would cost a more, but I can't see why not?"

Both adults expected a blush out of the darling prince, instead the boy closed the door and sighed.

" As fun as that would be, love, I'd rather not get murdered by my mother." His face showed little, though Tyrion was sure there was some amusement in nephews eyes and more then a little lust." So that fun experience will have to be postponed... as for you, dear Uncle, mother demands to see you. I know you'll want to finish your... party but if you don't come we all will have to deal with her wrath. So, if you please, do hurry..." Turning on heel, the boy hurried towards the door, only stopping to toss a silver towards the bed. "If you can get him out here in an hour, I'll see that you get at least three more of those."

Both adults blinked at each other, then lust burned through that fog and they decided to help Ross earn and every one of those coins.

"I do believe the Prince gave us an order and I am nothing if not a servant of the crown."

Moans and grunts were all that followed.

Neither noticed the exhaustion and eye roll that followed Arryn out of the room.

""

"And this is your room, Prince Arryn. It is one of the warmer rooms, I was told your illness tends to make you susceptible to the cold." Caitlyn gestured to the large room, which contained an already roaring fire and a massive bed that had several extra blankets piled upon it. "I had extra blankets brought in, just in case. There is also a selection of books from our library for you to read. I was informed that you are as avid a reader as your Uncle Tyrion."

Said prince smiled at her kindly, clearly touched by her gesture. " Thank you, My Lady. Your kindness is dearly appreciated... these walls have hotspring water running through them, correct?"

"Yes, Bran the Builder built this castle with them in mind. Without them, the people of Winterfell could never live through a hard winter, or manage to grow crops in our greenhouse."

With twinkling green eyes, the boy entered the room, running a hand across the wall. " I can feel it... to be honest, My Lady. I was hoping to read something on how your castle was built. I have some ideas I hope to implement if I get a position on the Small Council."

The Lady of Winterfell smiled in pride, glad to see a child taking their duties seriously. "I will see what I can find. We have an extensive library, open to all, as I have mentioned. I will show you to it in the morning, if you'd like."

Stopping, the boy turned to her and nodded with a kind smile, allowing her a long look at him. He looked nothing like Robert, taking after Cersei and Jaime greatly. His hair was a muddled gold that fell in curls around his head, it was far longer then most men she knew, fall towards the middle of his back, tied in braid. He had his mother's bone structure, high cheeks and a thin jaw. He was delicate, more so then his brother had been. He was also paler, with thick dark circles under his dark green eyes. Unlike his older brother, who wore all Gold and red, Arryn wore black clothes, laced with stags and lions across the collar bone.

Also unlike his brother, he held a sword and the muscles that came from it. His shoulders stood out, even as thin as he seemed. She recognized the stance of one skilled with a blade, she saw the calloused hands of one familar with a bow. Her own beloved son, Robb, bore similar features. Her father and brother and uncles had as well. This shocked her, the boy's illness should have prevented any such activity and yet here he was... it was admirable.

Overall He was no beauty like his mother or Uncle, but he was far from ugly. There was a warmth in his eyes that led him seem more beautiful then he was, when he gave her that tired smile, it made her heart fill with warmth not unlike what she felt when soaking in the hotsprings.

"I would greatly appreciate that, My Lady." The boy nodded low and slow to her, before walking away, towards a case on his desk, one she had no paid attention to before. It was a soft green, with no decoration. He opened it, revealing a lovely violin, one that was not new but clearly well taken care of. "Do you mind if I play this? It has been a while, I dared not irritate my father with it whilst on the road."

A little unsure, Caitlyn nodded. "Not at all, your Grace."

Soft and sweet, a beautiful melody escaped the instrument as the boy gently and expertly played. A full minute passed before the boy stopped and in that time Caitlyn was moved more then she realized she could be. There was so much tenderness in the boy's expression as he played, in the notes of the song so masterfully demonstrated that she felt her heart fill with even more warmth. "Still tuned and in condition, I was worried."

"That was beautiful... would you care to play during tonight's feast? I am sure all would be pleased to hear such wonderful music."

The boy's sudden fear worried her. "No one knows that I play, I taught myself since I was often too sick to practice swordplay or archery... I am not sure they would be happy with me."

"My daughter, Sansa, can play the High Harp. I am sure you could both play, a sign of unity between our houses."

For a moment he was silent, then he gave a slow nod. "If you are sure, I would be honored to perform for you, my Lady."

With a low bow, Caitlyn turned to leave. "I have duties to attend to, so if you do not need anything else, I will take my leave." She stopped at the door as a thought came to her. "May I ask what you wanted to implement? What our books would help you with?"

Joyus, though shy, light blossomed across the clearly tired boy's face. " I was hoping to create a system of sewers one day, should my Father allow it. The condition of Kingslanding is quite... horrid to be honest. When Joeffery and I went to Casterly Rock, I was amazed to see such a system. My Uncle Tyrion was once in charge of it, a position my Grandfather gave him when he turned sixteen... however with the internal plumbing and pipes, I believe we could make it so people can defecate indoors and a series of pipes can expel it out to sea. A lot of illness happens where the waste floods the streets, I hope to serve our people well by removing this problem."

Caitlyn decided there and then that she liked this child very much. " I remember the smell well, it still haunts me from my first visit to Kingslanding. A wonderful goal if ever there was one. What inspired it?"

"I am the second son and I am unlikely to live to anything higher then thirty... so I hoped to help our people in some other way. That sort of project could save thousands of lives, and in that I will have done something to honor my house."

;;;

With a slight shake, Arryn continued to play his violin, cursing himself. 'Damn it, I shouldn't have let my excitement get the better of me. There is no telling how Father or Mother will take my playing the Violin. The last thing I need is either of them looking into my life. I have made a comfortable life for myself in this corner away from all of their prying eyes...' Tears fells and more frustration built within. 'No, I know well enough that I only said as much because someone took an interest in me, even if it was for the sake of propriety. What a fool I am.'

The soothing sound of his violin did little to ease his worry, even if he enjoyed the process. There was something freeing about music, or drawing... art in general. Having control over some aspect of his life, when his ailing body rejected his desires or commands, was a near perfect replacement for that missing power. Of course, since no one paid attention to him, he was free to choose whatever he wanted to learn. Unlike his siblings, who had structured education leading to ruling or acting as the heads of houses, he was taught nearly nothing due to all fearing he would die and waste the education.

And so he did learn everything, for a time he had wanted to become a Maester though knew his Grandfather, Mother and Father would never allow it. So he satisfied his needs by becoming as educated as he could, as often as he could.

But that only worked because no one paid attention enough to censor him!

'Sigh, someone would have eventually discovered my interests and skills, I am nearly sixteen and that alone would make me marriagable age. Someone would notice, it is better that I control the outcome now. I am not the first prince to be a skill musician or poet. Reese Bolton's only son is supposed to have a near divine voice, and Renly is gifted with sowing and seaming. Even father was said to have a skill for crafting jewelry from pieces of horns and furs.' More at ease, Arryn fell back into his very comfortable bed and focused. 'If I am going to perform tonight, I might as well figure out what I am going to play. My own work, or something well known... all great but why did I do this myself?'

Chapter end, tell me what you think in the reviews.

Arryn has Sickle cell anemia, one of the versions of it. And it is canon that Myrcella knew that Jaime was her father, so I figured an older brother would figure it would if he wasn't a moron like Joff and naïve like Tommen.

He is someone that wants to leave a mark before his illness takes him... it defines and pushes him in a way few others are pushed. He is not good at everything... there is a great many things he is a failure at.

Also I should mentioned that Arryn is fourteen.

I hope you enjoy...

Love, your Ninja Overlord,

Mika.