Robb
"Come on, come on Percy!" The king said, dragging the young lord towards the high table, Robb's own father pulling him on the other side. With a glance, his father motioned his family to raise.
"You remember my beautiful wife, Cersei" The King said, gesturing towards the queen. Robb's eyebrows were almost to his hairline at the jubilant tone Robert Baratheon had used to speak about the Queen. Even she was surprised, Robb thought, judging by her gaping mouth.
"Of course. It is a pleasure to see you again, my Queen. The tales of your beauty do not make you justice". Percy said, kissing the knuckles in the Queen's hand. A faint, rosy blush graced her cheeks.
"Hello, Lord Jackson. It's been too long. The last time I saw you, you were but a child, right at the beginning of my husband's reign." The Queen said, far more pleasant than Robb had ever heard. Not even to her sisters had she spoke so gently. Her voice was so enthralling, Robb actually shook a little when a chuckle was heard somewhere at his side.
"Aye, barely more than a child. And yet it was the time when he delivered Sir Arthur Dayne's head at your feet, was it not Robert? Right after the Tower of Joy."
"That's right" Robert replied, nodding enthusiastically. "He was still mad about being called a short turd by Sir Gerold Hightower. His puffed cheeks made him look adorable, even with all that blood about him".
"And not to forget, the way his voice broke now and then. He always blushed so brightly, little Percy." Lord Eddard added helpfully.
"Fucking Hightowers" Percy muttered darkly. "They think so much of themselves because they are so tall. Of course I was short! Of course my voice broke! I was in puberty!"
"What's puberty?" Arya asked innocently, and Percy blushed an impressive amount of red.
"Never you mind that, young Arya" The King answered jovially, before gesturing towards the royal children. "This are my children, Percy. Joffrey, my firstborn and heir. Myrcella, cute little thing. And Tommen, my spare. Children, this is my friend and brother, Lord Perseus Jackson of Atlantis!" They all curtsied, and Robb could see Myrcella looking at Lord Perseus through her eyelashes, her eyes shining in what he could only describe in adoration. He frowned, having been the former recipient of that look.
"You are the Sealord of the North!" Tommen said with admiration, and Joffrey snorted, his eyes a mixture between respect and disgust. "They say you are better sailor than the Ironborn!"
"Percy here is the best sailor there is!" King Robert answered with a puffed chest, clapping him in the shoulder with enough force to break bones on a lesser man. "Why, it's almost as if he was the son of the sea god!" Percy just rolled his eyes, but Robb could see his father laughing heartily. He almost choked on his drink. He had seen his father laugh more in these few minutes than in his entire life in Winterfell.
"Seaborn, as Jon Arryn would say" Father complimented, before his gaze getting a little sad. Clearing his throat, he gestured towards Robb and his siblings. "My family, Percy" Eddard said in a quiet, but proud tone. Percy patted him in his shoulder, before giving Catelyn a warm hug. "It is good to see you, brother" Robb heard her mother say quietly, before the Sealord turned towards him.
"You probably do not remember me, since you were very young when I used to come to Winterfell more often. It is good to see you, Robb, the Young Wolf. You have grown into a fine man. And of course, the beautiful, beautiful Sansa, the Red Wolf herself." Lord Jackson said, firmly grasping his forearm with Robb's and delicately kissing a shocked, stammering Sansa's knuckles, before turning towards the rest of Robb's siblings.
"Brandon Stark, the Wise Wolf." Percy said, and a stare match erupted between the two. Robb could see the confusion in his brother, before his eyes flashed white. He could hear a yelp of surprise from his mother, and he could see his father immediately moving towards Bran, the king in tow, before a raised hand from Percy stopped them in their tracks.
"The Stark bloodline is very special, Bran" Percy began, gesturing towards one of his companions, who immediately handed him a satchel. Everyone waited with baited breaths as Percy searched for something. "Very magical. But you…Magic will always be your closest companion, Bran Stark. Remember that." The green-eyed man said, Bran's eyes widening at the ominous tone of voice, before his face scrunched up in confusion when Percy handed him a sand coin, the size of a golden stag.
"What is this?"
But Percy just chuckled, messing the young hair with his hand. "Just a gift. You will know when to use it, I think. Perhaps you may never even use it at all. But better safe than sorry." And with that, the entirety of his attention turned towards Arya. Robb could see his brother staring up in confusion at his father, who just smiled and nodded at him. Shrugging, Bran placed the sand coin in the table, by his seat. Further behind, Robb could see the King scold Joffrey in hushed tones, while Queen Cersei stood, looking at him like he had grew a second head. Robb wasn't sure what was even happening anymore.
"Arya Stark, the She-Wolf. The truest Stark, according to some."
"Huh? According to who?"
"Some"
"But who? Septa Mordane? Or Jory?"
But Percy just laughed. "Your Septa doesn't…understand, the ways of the North. I think. Anyway, when you were born, the Old Gods sent me a message. Now I can't tell you what it was" Percy said, smiling mischievously at the desperate look of his sister. "But I can, and have, to give you this." And with that he gestured again, and his companion, Emmon, if Robb remembered rightly, handed her a large package. Eagerly tearing through it, Arya found a long, thin sword. Robb could see his mother looking reproachfully at Percy, and yet his father seemed undecided between laughing and bumping his head on the table at Arya's look of wonder.
"Percy…that is Valyrian Steel!" The estranged voice of the King reached his ears, and Robb could see Arya's look of admiration being taken a notch above. Gingerly, she placed the sword back on its scabbard, before launching herself at Lord Jackson.
"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Percy just patted her head, before setting her down. Robb could see his father and Percy have an entire mental conversation, before his father nodded. Leaning down, he told Arya that Percy himself would be his first instructor in sword play.
"You're lucky, Arya Stark. Percy here was one of the best warriors back at the rebellion. Now? He could take the entire Kingsguard without much difficulty. The best warrior in the world." The King said warmly, mouthing the word 'Lyanna' to Eddard, who nodded. Arya opened her mouth to speak, but Rickon interrupted her.
"And what did you get me?" Percy laughed but nodded.
"Aye. I have your gift in the stables. A calf, which will become the fastest horse in the realm. Is it a good enough gift for you, my little Lord?"
"It better!"
"It will, Rickon Stark. The Wild Wolf. Now, I seem to be missing just one member of the household…But I will search for Jon on my own. Enjoy your evening." Robb noted that the warm gaze of his mother had turned cold with Lord Jackson's words, but his own had become warmer. He had always thought Jon as a member of his family, and he was glad that others thought so too. Following the Lord of Atlantis with his gaze, he could see him warmly embrace his uncle Benjen, before leaving the hall.
He hadn't received a gift, but Lord Jackson had given him a knowing look. Surprisingly, it had put him at ease. At least more than the Royal Children, who were upset to be left giftless, especially one royal prick. Raising his cup to his lips, Robb suppressed a smile. He was liking his father's best friend more and more.
Jon
"You're Ned Stark's bastard, aren't you?" Jon clenched his jaw but didn't answer. It took a monumental effort, however, the wine he had been drinking loosening his tongue and muddling his thoughts.
"Did I offend you?" The Dwarf Lord, Tyrion Lannister, continued. "Sorry, Dwarfs don't have to be tactful." He grinned. "You are a bastard, though"
"Lord Eddard Stark is my father" Jon replied, a stiffness in his body he was unable to mask. Tyrion Lannister opened his mouth to reply, before a voice cut through the silence.
"Aye, he is. You look so much like him it is astounding, to say the least. Strong genes, the Stark ones." Jon watched as Lord Perseus Jackson joined his impromptu conversation. He could see Tyrion's eyes brighten a little, and a glint of familiarity enter his gaze.
"Lord Jackson" Tyrion said teasingly, bowing low. "I knew I detected the smell of rotten fish"
"Please, Lord Tyrion, do not bow. Anymore close to the floor and you will smell like horse's shit for days". They stared at each other blankly, before Percy reached down and embraced the tiny Lannister.
"It is good to see you, Percy" Tyrion said softly, before coughing and looking back at Jon. "And he does look like Lord Stark. He has more of the north in him, than any of his siblings".
"Except Arya, perhaps." Perseus said warmly, before shaking his head a little. "He looks more like Eddard than his brothers, but they are all men and women of the North. True Starks."
"Half-brothers" Jon corrected, before slumping a little. "And not Stark, Snow". Tyrion and Percy exchanged glances, before the dwarf walked closer to him.
"Let me give you some counsel, Snow" Tyrion said. "Never forget what you are, because the world will never forget it either. Make it your strength, so that it never may be your weakness. Shroud yourself on it, make it your armor, and it will never be used to hurt you."
"I am in no mood to receive counsel. What do you know about being a bastard?"
"All dwarves are bastards in their father's eyes." Tyrion said cryptically, and with a last nod at the Lord of Atlantis, he left the stables, Jon's eyes following him as he walked.
"Tyrion has…a jaded view on the world. Not completely true, but not completely wrong either. His life has been shaped by his experiences, just like the rest of all. In his case, the experiences have been less than pleasant:" Percy said, interrupting his musings. Still, Jon hadn't calmed down, and his response was just as scathing as the one the Lannister had received.
"So what? You do not know anything about being a bastard, either"
"I am one"
Jon recoiled, almost as if slapped, but the stern gaze on Perseus Jackson face had him unable to tear his eyes away from the sea-green, swirling ones, that were darkening by the second.
"Of course," Percy continued "Where I come from bastard is just a term that no one takes seriously. A technicality. However, that is neither here, nor there. Names come and go, Jon Snow, but blood is thicker than water. And our choices shape our reality. You are a Stark, Jon, the White Wolf. One day you will have to do your duty to your blood."
And with that, Lord Jackson left, leaving a gaping bastard behind him.