Hey guys! I just wanted to clear something up – the characters I focus on are not the only ones in their respective Houses. For instance Markas Stark does have cousins, as does Oroville, Ashriel and Delyth Tyrell, Rylon Baratheon has brothers and so on. So, if any characters do meet their demise, it does not necessarily mean the extinction of their house, since I want this story to be able to fit into the rich history and lore of Game of Thrones / Ice and Fire.

Though this story is rooted in the TV Show, I do draw a lot of the history and customs from Ice and Fire. I simply chose the TV show as I know that a lot better than I know Ice and Fire.

I still need:

Lord Bolton (preferably in his fifties)

Rylon Baratheon's son (preferably in his mid teens)

Lannisters (Including the Lord and Lady of the House)

Lady Theadosia 'Thea' Bolton's handmaidens. (1/3 accepted). They can be a variety of ages, and don't need to be villainous. In fact, I'd prefer some innocent, good-hearted ones.

Bannermen for the Starks – I'd like some real 'Northern' bannermen. Stubborn, blunt, crass etc.

Stark Banner Houses:

House Mormont

House Glover

House Karstark

House Greystark

House Reed

Bolton Banner Houses:

House Umber

House Hornwood

House Flint

House Locke

House Manderly

I'll also accept some characters from across the narrow sea. Sellswords, cutpurses, courtesans and the like.

Ashriel Tyrell – The Red Keep, King's Landing

King's Landing looked so picturesque from up here. Up in the Red Keep, built by Maegor the Cruel on Aegon's High Hill. I began to imagine if this is how Bran the Builder felt upon erecting the Wall, and looking out amongst Westeros.

Down, past all the winding alleyways and huge ravines of stone, stood the Great Sept of Baelor, built by Baelor the Blessed. Gods, it rivalled the Red Keep in masonry. Truly, it was a structure worthy of the Gods it worshipped.

The Hook could be seen, arcing through the city and leading to the mudgate, and from there, the Kingsroad to anywhere in Westeros. Storm's End, Highgarden… anywhere. Looking at the gate, I couldn't help but imagine who was in those gilded elegant carriages, escorted by nobles. Oh, noble Lords and gentle Ladies, I was sure, but I didn't who specifically. Was it an old, disgruntled man, come to smile as Haylise the Ruined married Viserys the Bold? Would he present his daughter, and marry her off to a half-deaf decrepit man?

I closed my eyes, trying to just take in the sounds. The bells ringing from Baelor's Sept, the bustle of crowds, neighing of horses, the wind blowing against my bare skin, where my robe did not cover…

"Come back to bed," I heard the lethargic, yet musical chime call from bed. Looking around, I saw him. Tangled mess of silver hair, heavy, tired violet eyes. His soft, flushed cheeks. Beads of sweat still sat on his forehead from our activities. My Dragon.

"I couldn't sleep…" I stated, walking back to him.

"Well," He pushed himself up, "who said beds were just for sleeping?" He leant in and began kissing my waist, hands gently slipping around me and under my gown. But, as soft as his hands felt against my skin, and as warm as his breath was, I could not shift my mind.

"Do you think she's pretty?"

"Who?" He asked between kisses.

"You know who." He paused, sighing as he halted kissing me, and leant backwards, looking up at me.

"Haylise?" Viserys paused. "Of course not."

"You don't think she's pretty?"

"Not compared to you."

"I'm not asking compared to me…" I looked out of the window. I knew he was just answering whatever he thought would please me. After all our time together, I'd hoped he would have known I wanted something more honest-

"Okay, yes." He kept his arms around my waist, "She's quite beautiful."

"Oh, beautiful, is she? Beautiful?"

"Objectively," he stood up, arms still around me.

"In other words, to many?"

"I…" he let out a nervous chuckle, "yes, to many, I'm sure she's very beautiful."

"If you like girls like that…" I huffed, turning back to the window, and gliding out of Viserys' arms.

"You're jealous!" He called with a smile, walking after me.

"We should call you Viserys the Bright…"

"Look," Viserys spun me around, "I didn't ask to marry her. You know I have a duty to do so." His fingers interlaced with mine, "When I was a boy, Rylon told me that being a Prince meant that duty comes before everything. Even my own wants."

"Because Rylon is so wise…" I shrugged, "Wedding Haylise…"

"And, what's so wrong with Haylise?" Viserys chuckled.

"Oh, nothing," I crossed my arms, "nothing's wrong with Haylise the Ruined…"

"I'm hardly a maid myself."

"That's different," I spun around, "you know it is."

"She's to be my wife," Viserys slipped the robe off my shoulders, "I didn't choose it, she didn't and you didn't. It's an awful position to be in… but let's spend our last moments not thinking about her."

Viserys leant in and began to kiss my neck, the short prickle of stubble on his chin scratching against my throat. I tousled his hair with my fingers, grabbing fistfuls of it and pulling him as close to me as could be done. Like it was the last time I would ever do so.

Oroville Tyrell – The Royal Gardens, King's Landing

"My Lord, the Hippocras is served. Should you want cheese or-"

"I want your stench out of this damned garden." I replied, turning away from the sea and walking back to the table where Ashriel sat with my youngest, Delyth, sat. The Flower of Highgarden. She was certainly more eligible for marriage than her sister. Ashriel was too… wild. Those ugly golden rings that covered her ears – what man would want a wife like that? She looked like a Lyseni- well, a woman that she is not.

Delyth, on the other hand, was a proper Lady. Despite being a year younger, she was taller than her sister, and more delicate. Her face was carved like a heart, similar to her sister, except there were no blemishes, her skin glowed from the Highgarden sun, and her hair was a cool ash-brown, worn in the same fashion as Ashriel. They wore the same eyes and smile, but Ashriel wore her clothes modestly and with grace. Delyth, on the other hand, had attended her mother's tutelage. She was the prized Flower of Highgarden, and was the key to the Tyrells' future.

I hobbled over to the table, resting my cane against the chair as I sat. "This blasted leg…" It had been at the tourney of Oldtown, some twenty years ago, when I was a younger man. Damned mare was in heat, and collapsed onto my leg. Leaving me to walk around with this golden cane and a fucking rose for a hilt. The curse of being a Tyrell… everyone, everywhere calls you a bloody rose…

"Can we have some honeycomb, father?" Delyth asked.

"Not yet, we have matters to discuss."

"But I want it now."

"And I'm telling you to wait." I reached across holding my old, scarred thumb on her chin. "Too many honeycombs means fewer handsome husbands." Ashriel let out a snigger from the other side of the table. She may not have respected me, but she was a sharp little thing. Truly the daughter of the Knight of Thorns. After the death of my father, I was no longer a knight… I suppose I was now the Thornlord. "I have entered discussion with Lord Rylon."

"Lord Rylon?" Delyth's eyes widened in excitement.

"I had set about securing a match. For you, Delyth." I saw Delyth's lips break into a wide, beaming smile, and Ashriel breathe a sigh of relief. "You will stay here, in King's Landing for some time after the wedding, where you will serve as handmaiden to Princess Laena, with your sister." I saw Ashriel roll her eyes.

"Who is my betrothed?" Delyth giggled. "Is he a black-haired Baratheon? A golden-haired Lannister? An Arryn?"

"A Targaryen." I couldn't hide my smile, a I watched Delyth squeal.

"Tell me! Who is it? Who is it?"

"Really?" Ashriel raised an eyebrow. She had already guessed who it was. I had to say, she was as sharp as her sister was beautiful. "Him?"

"And what is wrong with that match?"

"Ask Haylise the Ruined, she might give you some insight…" Ashriel took a sip of wine.

"What are you talking about?" Delyth still giggled.

"She's not going to like it…" Ashriel murmured into her cup of wine.

"What aren't I going to like?" Delyth asked, all manner of sweetness evaporated. I sighed, leaning back into my chair.

"You are to marry Prince Aeron Targaryen."

Delyth's face was one full of confusion. I'd heard the whispers, calling her the 'Foolish Flower' of Highgarden, and claiming she was dim-witted. In my opinion, it didn't matter if she was or wasn't. She was beautiful, and fit to marry a prince. I'd challenge any man to say different.

"Aeron Targaryen?" Delyth asked, "The natural-born?"

"He is trueborn now, by royal decree," I informed Delyth, "say otherwise, and you contradict the king." I turned to Ashriel, "Now, Ashriel, you can be of some assistance with this, I hope?"

"Me? Help?" Ashriel looked from Delyth to myself.

"You've been in King's Landing for quite some time. What can you tell us about him?"

"Aeron? Well, he's courteous… well-read. Though, he's not widely received."

"Widely received? How so?"

"Queen Vysella holds distaste for the boy. The Princess Laena, also."

"The future queen," Delyth huffed, "Draegor will rule King's Landing, Viserys will rule Dragonstone… what will Aeron rule?"

"Aeron will sit on the Small Council," I informed her, "He will advise his brother, the King, in everything. I'd wager he's to be chosen as Hand of the King under his brother's reign."

Delyth's face shifted into one of glee. "So… I'd still be a princess."

I laughed, watching the servant arrive with more wine. "Yes, you will be a princess." I looked to the servant, "Where's the damned honeycomb? I told you to bring honeycomb!"
"M-my Lord?" The servant staggered backwards.

"Don't snivel, get the honeycomb!" I swung my cane around his backside, hiding him. "And bring us some more damned wine!" I called after him, over Delyth's giggles. I stood up, reaching for my cane, "Damned fool…"

"You didn't ask him for more honeycomb, father." Ashriel stated.

"I didn't?"

"No, you said Delyth wasn't to have much just yet."

"I could've sworn I did…" I looked after the boy that scrambled away, "One too many knocks in the tourneys, I suppose." I chuckled, reaching for my cane. "I'll take the air for a moment. Leave you two to remember fonder times. Ashriel, tell your sister all you know of Aeron Targaryen. Tell one of your attendants to fetch me when that blasted fool returns."