AN1:This chapter was inspired by stratomuchkin's work on deviantart. (I got his permission to write the fic based on his pics.)

AN2: This isn't rally sci-fi, more like space-fantasy. At least several aspect of it won't be explained in the typical sci-fi maner.

AN3: Before anyone start of the whole meele weapon argument: the armors too good compared to most ranged (personal) weapons.

AN4: I don't own any material used to make this fanfic, aside my OCs and storyline of my own design etc.

Chapter I

To the North

The North was the largest planet in the entire realm and the most far off. A large white and blue globe at the edge of the star system. Dorne was scorching hot and dry, the Stormland full of furious tempests, the Vale hard and unforgiving, but the North was considered the harshest place to live in all the Seven Kingdoms.

The space far from even the moons of the North, Skagos, Skane, Bear, Barrowton, Weeping Orb and the Wolfmoon, ripped open as a fleet of warships. At the front the King's Robert Hammer, or as most called the Hammer, a grand cruiser the flagship of the Royal Fleet, the sigil of the Baratheon house borne on its side. Just as the near two dozen lesser vessels which accompanied it.

William Baratheon, Prince of the Seven Kingdoms opened his eyes as he felt the Hammer the flagship of the Royal Fleet reenter real space. It was unmistakeable, the slight preassure on the back of his head disappearing as the vibrations of the engines emerged. Meaning that they were near to the North.

It was not even half a year since Will have last seen the North. On his tenth nameday his father decided to have him fostered at Winterfell, the home of Robert closest friend Ned Stark. William's mother, Queen Cersei was against it, but Robert could be stubborn as a mule when he was in the mood. And he was most of the times.

After being away for four years William returned to King's Landing just after his four and tenth nameday. He could hardly settled back in the South when Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King died. Will liked the old Lord of the Vale. He was a father figure in Robert's life and was akin to a grandfather or uncle in William's own. His only living grandparent was Lord Tywin Lannister and he saw the man only twice in his life, not remembering the first at all as it happened not long after he born. Lord Arryn was the one who tried to guide Will as his father showed scant of interest in Will's life aside of hunting and fighting. Will mourned the Lord Hand's passing more than most at the court.

With one of the only man he ever respected being dead Robert could only think the other man as the next Hand, Ned Stark. William found it a smart and stupid move at the same time. Indeed there was no question about Lord Stark's honor or loyalty, but Will knew the Lord of Winterfell and he was not ready for the snake pit King's Landing was. He decided when he first heard of the possibility of Lord Stark being the new Hand to help him whenever and whereever he could.

Will looked around. He was seated in one of the chairs in his suite. It was lavish with a large bed, easily enough for a grown man and two paramour with a bathroom attached to the room.

It seemed that he fall asleep reading one of the tomes maester Gareth provided him. It was about the Blackfyre rebelion and while he found it fascinating he was so worn out that ended up falling into slumber.

"My prince..." Came the voice of his faithful guardian, Catherina the Queen of Swords, Grandmaster, of the Order of the Dragon. She was a cold beauty, with golden hair reaching the small of her back, her eyes a piercing set of ice. Long legs, muscular, yet feminime body lusted after by nearly any men who laid eyes on it.

Some would say that she was only there for Will's lust. Any who were brave and foolish enough to do so in her face were challenged and beaten. Ser Barristan himself granted her the moniker: Queen of Swords after their only spar ending in a drawn.

"Catherina." William greeted her back, a half smile on his face. The grandmaster's stoic face softened slightly.

"We will arrive in a few hours. You may wish to ready yourself." Will got to his feet with a knew that his mother wouldn't be pleased if he wasn't on his best meeting the sigh escaped his lips as he turned to the bathroom door tugging his black tunic off. He jumped slightly as he felt Catherina delicate hands on his shoulder helping him.

"I can do it myself, thank you."

"Don't need any help with washing your back?" Catherina asked with only the shade of smile on her face. William felt a shiver running through his back.

"N-no, thanks."Will cursed at himself for shuttering. He steeled himself before turning towards his bodyguard, "You spend too much time with Triss, Cath."

"I will inform her of your compliment." The woman nodded, a smirk playing on her mouth, slipping out of the room, not waiting for the indigant reply, that Will absolutely had no need for anybody to encourage Triss. The woman seemed delightened enough already to tease him in the most creative and not so creative way imagineable.

A few minutes later he entered the training chamber a deck under the living suits of the ladies and room was large with dias on all side, the arena, a rectangular shape of ten meter on the side, in the middle . The chamber was abadoned save only a handful people. In the arena Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Jaime Lannister, both of the kingsguard and called the finest knight of the Kingdom, fought. For a moment Will could only watch as the two legendary knight clashed their weapons a blur.

"You clean up nicely, Prince William." A melodic voice greeted him from the side. Turning to it he came face-to-face with Triss Merigold, his advisor. She was a woman of nearly unmatched beauty and grace. Long waves of chestnut hair fell to her shoulder and down to her cleavage, her golden flecked green eyes glinting with mischief, her hourglass figure clad in green and gold robe showing her body to the world. Behind her Catherina watched the duel with her arms crossed not even glancing at Will. On her other side stood a few other members of the Order.

Then came a trio of younger men, Coen, Lambert and Tristan, all around twenty namedays. They were all handsome and skilled with the sword, but arrogance often reared its ugly head with them. Thankfully either Cath or other senior members were there to teach them a lesson in humility.

They were followed by the twins, Ser Emrys and Ser Amrys of House Swann. They were older than the trio by a few namedays, but that doesn't showed. They enjoyed playing with people using the fact that they were near identical.

Last of the Order was Zoltan Chivay, a middle aged man, with great thirst for women and wine. He wasn't taller than most men, but was so muscular that some member of the Order wondered if he could match the Hound or even the Mountain. He was bald except a single line of red hair in the middle of his head, with a thick beard. He was one of the few of the Order who favored warhammers and greataxes to swords.

Triss looked William over approvingly. He wore a simple tunic of the Baratheon colors, black leather with golden trim. A simple sword was strapped to his waist along with a needler pistol. He was taking after his father, tall and muscular, nearing six feet at the age of fourteen. His raven black locks reached the nap of his neck, while his shapphire blue eyes gazed at Triss' form for a moment.

"Thank you, Triss." Will replied at last, "Your beauty is as otutworldly as always."

"My, my." Triss giggled amusedly, "When Cath said you wanted me to join you in the showers I didn't believe her. Mayhaps I should have."

"Maybe, you should have." Will allowed causing Triss face to transform into utter disbelief. Triss eyes grew wide before seeing the smile that broke out on his face. She let out a short laugh.

"Finally! I thought you will never respond to our teasing!" Triss was delightened, Will could tell, before the woman added " I wondered if you wanted men to tease you instead..."

"I assure you my interests are far from that." William replied cooly, forcing his anger down at hearing that accusation even if jest.

"Oh, I knew." Triss waved her hand, not being done by a longshot "I mean you looked at us for a long time, "She indicated towards Cath, "As a dog smelling a bitch in heat..." William could feel his face flushing. He knew that it was wrong to just stare at women, but couldn't help it!

"In my defence both of you are gorgeous." He hastily explained, forgetting that his beautiful advisor was obviously teasing him..

"Don't worry, you obviously felt ashamed about it." Triss waved his concerns away again, though she couldn't help but add, "Not to mention it was adorable."

Will bite back his respond, knowing that it would just make things worse, deciding to watch the duel instead. Only to find it finished by the time his conservation with Triss was over. The two swordmen, alrady taking their practise swords to their place, were walking towards the exit, straight at William.

"Nephew! How nice to see you!" Ser Jaime clapped William on the shoulder with a wide smile on his face. Will often wondered how could Jaime smile so often, "I hoped we could spar with each other."

"Spar? You would defeat me in a minute, uncle." Will replied. He was talented with the sword no doubt about that, but Jaime Lannister wasn't known as the best swordman in the Seven Kingdoms for nothing. "Beside, Ser Barristan is more adequate opponent for you." Ser Barristan stood beside his brother-in-arms. His age didn't touched his statue. He still stood tall and proud as the Commander of the Kingsguard. " Everyone knows that you two are the finest with the sword in the entire Realm. Well, aside of Cath." Ser Barristan bowed a bit at the praise, but Jaime just scoffed at it, eager to challenge the woman. Yet everytime he did so the leader of Will's guards declined him.

"Good for you to mention that, Will. I'm eager to cross blades with that Grandmaster of yours."

"I'm afraid it will have to wait a bit, uncle. We are close to the North and mother will want all of us to be prepared for when the Starks greet us." Will reminded his uncle.

"Aye." Jaime nodded at that before sniffing himself, "I suppose I do need a bath."

"Good. I will go and inform mother of our arrival." The prince turned around and went back to the same deck he came from, with the two swordmen following him. The Kingsguards had their quarters next to the Royal family: easier to defend being their reasoning.

The two older men left Will in front of the door to the Queen's quarters. In front of it stood Ser Meryn Trant as the guard for the Queen. The knight only nodded at his sworn brothers, who walked past the door, both returning the gesture.

"I'm here to see my mother." Will said to the tall man wearing the golden armor of the Kingsguard. The armor which was said to be nearly inpenetrable by any weapon be it a gun or sword. The man nodded before gently knocking on the door leading inside. After a few seconds one of his mother's handmaiden opened it looking at the knight questioningly, who only nodded to the prince.

The royal handmaidens all came from Minor Houses. They were mostly there to entertain them, be courier and spy for them, along with forming the complex hair-does too hard for a common girl. Not to mention it presented an opportunity as the Queen could suggest marriages, resolving tension between the vassals. Not to mention that the handmaidens themselves hoped to catch the interest of a young noble.

She was Annabell of House Oakshield, a Minor Noble House from the Stormland. She was only a few years older than Will. She was lovely with her dark brown hair and chocolate eyes. The girl gave a proper curtsey to Will.

"Annabell, could you inform my mother that I would like to see her?"

"At once my prince." The girl curtseyed again. As she closed the door. Will could hear as she announced his arrival and his mother voice, eager to see him. The door opened again as 'Bell gestured for him to come inside.

"William! I hoped you would be joining us before arriving at Winterfell." Her mother greeted him. She was laying leisurly on a long chair, like the lioness some liked to compare her to, her mane of golden hair in an elaborate style. Her forest green eyes looked at him with love as she smiled at him. Not those false smile she offered to anyone not of the family. It was a true smile, born from love. It made her truly beautiful.

Will looked around. Myrcilla, his little sister of ten and two sat next to her mother, on the left. Even being that young her future beauty was undeniable. Will knew that in only a few years ther will be a flock of marriage proposals for her hand. Myrcella sent a happy smile to her brother.

To her left sat Septa Eglantine, the princess personal tutor. Will didn't like the old woman much: she was sour and stiff. Thankfully he didn't have much contact with her. Behind than stood the three handmaidens, two for the Queen and one for the princess.

"We will be at Winterfell in a hour mother." William informed them, "I thought I should inform you about it."

"Thank you, love." Cersei nodded to him as she gestured him to the chair on her right. After her son was seated she asked him, "Will, could you please tell me what you know about Sansa Stark?"

Will could feel as his eyes widening. He didn't think that his mother knew the name of any of the Stark children. Robb's maybe as he fought the wildings with the eldest. But Sansa?

"She is Lord Stark's older daughter. She takes after Lady Catelyn. Her spte only has good things to say about her."

"I hear that she is quite lovely."

"Undoubtely." Will replied, "Truthfully I feel that she may be able to challenge you as the most beautiful woman in the Realm a decade from now, mother." Maybe even sooner, but there was no need to say that. Cersei let out a soft laugh hearing Will compliment.

"Thank you, dear. It warms my heath to know that you find me fair."

"Only a blind man wouldn't do." Will replied. It was true. You could say a great many things about Queen Cersei, but not being beautiful wasn't one of them.

"I can only thank the gods that the only thing you learned from the Imp is his clever tongue." Cersei muttered. Will winced at that. His uncle and mother's relationship was... antagonistic. And neither liked to talk about the other. Will quickly tried to lead the conservation back to Sansa. The young girl was a far safer topic after all.

"Mother, if I may ask: why are you interested in Sansa?"

"Your father wants to unite the Starks and the royal line." She replied with a small grimace, "Ilast time I heard he planned to have this Sansa and Joffrey wed."

Joffrey and William were like day and night. William was tall, muscled from his regular sword training with dark hair and blue eyes. He was said to be the near replica of the young Robert Baratheon, though the King said that he would be more handsome than him with a laugh. Joffrey had far less of the King inside him, taking after Uncle Jaime. He looked just like a Lannister with his blond hair and pale green eyes.

But most of all they were different on the inside. Joffrey was an arrogant piece of shit, who liked to lord over others while doing absolutely nothing. While Will liked to work hard for his archivements. It maybe came from the different upbringing the two had. Both were princes, btu Joffrey was taught only by maester Pycelle and Jaime as ordered by their mother. Meanwhile Will was taught by a myriad of different people.

"Would you marry the Stark girl, William?" Cersei suddenly asked.

"I don't love her, mother." Will responded truthfully, "But I know my duty to my family."

"I see." The Queen fall silent, clearly thinking how she could prevent Joffrey being married. For some reason she always cared more for Joffrey than all her other children together.

"Will?" Myrcella asked him softly.

"Yes, Myrcella?" He asked gently. He knew that Joffrey was often cruel to Myrcella and Tommen, the youngest of them, never in the presence of their mother of course.

"Can you tell me about the North?"

"It is a wilderness, darling." Their mother interrupted them, "Don't bother with it." Will mouthed "I will tell you later." to his little sister, who nodded back. It wasn't the first occasion they had to talk about something outside their mother's earshot.

"Then maybe about Lady Sansa and Arya?"

As Will predicted their arrived at White Harbor the massive space station above the North. It had enough space for their entire fleet to dock. What they didn't except to see the Stark's ancient dreadnaught, the Fang out in space. The massive warship was ttwo and half times larger than the Hammer, reaching nearly a mile in length.

The dreadnaughts were the largest vessel in the known history. The secret of their built was lost in the ages, resulting only a handful remaining, each Great House having one. They were invaluable relics of the past. Of course Will had to plead with his father not to use the Fury in their voyage to the North.

After docking Lord Manderly personally greeted them, but Will's father wasn't in the mood to tarry longer. Not half an hour latter their shuttle was on its way to Winterfell, the seat of House Stark.

It was spent in utter silence. His father obviously couldn't wait to see his best friend. His mother wanted to be back at King's Landing. Joffrey stood beside their mother with a sneer on his face. Tommen and Myrcella softly spoke, but Will was surprised they could hear each other. The Kingsguard, the members of Order and the Hound were around them.

His spirit was lifted as he saw the figures at the landing zone. It seemed that the entire household was out there to greet them. Lord Stark kneeled immediately as the King stepped out the shuttle. his household following him.

Will himself followed his father far more gracefully with Joffrey at his side. His father quickly marched up to Lord Stark not even pausing let alone waiting as the Queen and their two youngest along with the septa appeared to exit the shuttle.

The king stopped about a feet from Ned's kneeling form indicating with his hand that he can stand. The Lord of Winterfell did so, just as the others a moment later. The two old friends looked at each other. Lord Stark couldn't help but be horrified at seeing Robert in such state.

"Even with Will saying it I can hardly believe what I see. Sure, it was four years since Will have seen his father so ... I would have never thought. How could he let himself become this?" Ned thought. The Robert Baratheon in front of him was a shadow of the friend he parted at the end of the Greyjoy Rebellion. The king was still stood tall, taller than Lord Stark, who wasn't a short man himself. But his strenght, once feared in the entire realm, turned into fat. Robert now had a large beard conceiling his second chin, his tunic was nearly ripped open by his large belly. Even his eyes were less vibrant than during the Rebellion.

"Your grace." Ned bowed to his king.

"You got fat."

Those three words were clearly heard by all in the silent courtyard. Robb, next to his father looked like someone slapped him, hard, while Will decided to be amused at his father bluntness. Ned himself responded by clearly looking down at the king's much more noticable belly then quirking an eyebrow at him. They stood there for a silent moment before they started laughing, embracing as brothers did dispelling any tension in the courtyard.

"Cat!" The king hugged Lady Stark as well, while ruffling little Rickon's head before turning back to Lord Stark. Lady Stark was beautiful, even with the North marking her years more than those in the South. Her red hair didn't start to grey yet, her blue eyes still shone bright.

"Your grace."

"Nine years. It's been nine years. Where the hell have you been?" Robert turned towards Ned.

"Guarding the North for you, your grace. Winterfell is yours." Robert nodded at hearing it halfheartedly, clearly not that interested in Ned respectful words. His friend was much more too formal for their first meeting in years!

"What do we have 'ere?" He walked down the line. There was Robb, the Stark heir. He was tall, reaching his father height, but with his mother hair more prominent. He clapsed forearm with the king. Robert nodded in satisfaction.

"Robb, right? You have a strong grip, lad. I heard that you fought beside my son, Will. It's good to hear that the alliance between our Houses hold true."

Taking another step he looked at Sansa, the second oldest of the Stark children. She was the same age as Will, her figure just starting to shape into a woman yet none could deny it. Will didn't lie when he said that in n a few years her beauty will match that of the queen's.

"What a beauty."

Sansa preened under the king's gaze, but Robert just smiled once more before stepping to the next person. He felt silent as he took in the form of one Arya Stark.

"What's your name?"

"Arya."

He nodded, but said nothing as he stepped to the last person, Bran. Bran was the second youngest, ten namedays.

"Show me some muscle!" Robert laughed at Bran showing off his arm. Will, standing back had to bite back his own laughter smiling at it. Bran was the least suited for fighting among the Stark sons. Robb was good with the sword even more if he was in the cockpit of a fighter. Rickon was a wild little thing, who reminded Lord Stark of his own brother, Brandon, an excellent swordman. Bran? He was the smartest of the bunch, not really fit for fighting, "Ha, you will be a knight surely! Maybe even one of the Kingsguard, eh?"

He stepped back and looked at Ned, who just greeted Cersei with a kiss on the hand. The king wasn't in the mood for pleasantries however.

"Ned, lead me to the crypt. I want to pay my respect."

"We have been on the voyage for a month, my love." Cersei said softly, "Surely, the dead can wait."

"Ned!" Robert didn't moved a muscle to acknowledge his wife's words as he turned to the door leading to the undercroft of the castle. Ned hesitated for a moment before bowing apologetically to tzhe Queen and taking after the king.

Will stepped forward in hopes to easy everyone out the tense mood his father departure left them in. He kissed the back of Lady Stark's hand, an aunt in all but blood, embraced Robb his brother while meeting Jon's and Theon's eyes. They both nodded at him, clearly reading his vox-message to them. He couldn't greet them, a Greyjoy and a bastard, his mother would have his head for it.

He kissed Sansa's hand, who returned his smile, but her gaze was on Joffrey the entire time. Will could feel the headache coming. Sansa refused to either hear or believe his tales of Joffrey's cruelty. He decided to direct her towards Myrcella, to guide the princess at Winterfell.

He did the same with Tommen and Bran. Neither boy had much interaction with others their age, let alone friends. Will tried to spend as much time as he could with Bran, but the agegap was a bit too much for them. In contrast Tommen was a prince. Most would just turn out to be using him and his status, never being a true friend. Will felt that Bran was one of the few who would.

And them he arrived in front of his favourite person in Winterfell. Arya looked at him with a little smile. Will just shook his head before opening his arms. Arya launched herself at him with a laugh.

"Have I ever told you how much I missed you, ?"

"Good." Arya murmured next to his ears, "I missed you too, silly stag."

Will laughed out at this, not noticing the enraged gaze of her mother and brother, nor the smiles worn by both Robert and Ned, who just arrived back to the courtyard. For Will it mattered little. He was back with his friends.

Little did he knew that the coming days would define their future.