Sorry but this chapter will be using a lot of the original text. To make up for it I will be uploading the next chapter almost immediately. Joanna won't be having a large role in this but it will be the first time the Starks meet her.

Eddard

The visitors poured through the castle gates in a river of gold and silver and polished steel, three hundred strong, a pride of bannermen and knights, of sworn swords and freeriders. Over their heads a dozen golden banners whipped back and forth in the northern wind, emblazoned with the crowned stag of Baratheon.

Ned knew many of the riders. There came Ser Jaime Lannister with hair as bright as beaten gold, and there Sandor Clegane with his terrible burned face. Riding between them was a golden girl who looked as if she couldn't be less at home in the North. The tall boy beside her could only be the crown prince and the girls twin, and that stunted little man behind them was surely the Imp, Tyrion Lannister.

Yet the huge man at the head of the column, flanked by two knights in the snow-white cloaks of the Kingsguard, seemed almost a stranger to Ned . . . until he vaulted off the back of his warhorse with a familiar roar, and crushed him in a bone-crunching hug. "Ned! Ah, but it is good to see that frozen face of yours." The king looked him over top to bottom, and laughed. "You have not changed at all."

Would that Ned had been able to say the same. Fifteen years past, when they had ridden forth to win a throne, the Lord of Storm's End had been clean-shaven, clear-eyed, and muscled like a maiden's fantasy. Six and a half feet tall, he towered over lesser men, and when he donned his armor and the great antlered helmet of his House, he became a veritable giant. He'd had a giant's strength too, his weapon of choice a spiked iron warhammer that Ned could scarcely lift. In those days, the smell of leather and blood had clung to him like perfume.

Now it was perfume that clung to him like perfume, and he had a girth to match his height. Ned had last seen the king nine years before during Balon Greyjoy's rebellion, when the stag and the direwolf had joined to end the pretensions of the self-proclaimed King of the Iron Islands. Since the night they had stood side by side in Greyjoy's fallen stronghold, where Robert had accepted the rebel lord's surrender and Ned had taken his son Theon as hostage and ward, the king had gained at least eight stone. A beard as coarse and black as iron wire covered his jaw to hide his double chin and the sag of the royal jowls, but nothing could hide his stomach or the dark circles under his eyes.

Yet Robert was Ned's king now, and not just a friend, so he said only, "Your Grace. Winterfell is yours."

By then the others were dismounting as well, and grooms were coming forward for their mounts. Robert's queen, Cersei Lannister, entered on foot with her younger children. The wheelhouse in which they had ridden, a huge double-decked carriage of oiled oak and gilded metal pulled by forty heavy draft horses, was too wide to pass through the castle gate. Ned knelt in the snow to kiss the queen's ring, while Robert embraced Catelyn like a long-lost sister.

"This is my heir and eldest, Joffrey and his twin, Joanna. You would barely know they're mine, would you Ned. Especially her. I feel sorry for whoever has to marry her." Robert scoffed, pushing Joanna forward.

Rolling her eyes at her father's drunken attitude she curtsied. "Lord Stark."

"Your highness ."

Joanna hurried back to her mother and uncle as quickly as possible. Jaime placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright Joanna?"

"I think so," She nodded, "I was just embarrassed in front of the future Hand of the King."

No sooner had those formalities of greeting been completed than the king had said to his host, "Take me down to your crypt, Eddard. I would pay my respects."

Ned loved him for that, for remembering her still after all these years. He called for a lantern. No other words were needed. The queen had begun to protest. They had been riding since dawn, everyone was tired and cold, and surely they should refresh themselves first. The dead would wait. She had said no more than that; Robert had looked at her and her twin brother Jaime had taken her quietly by the arm, and she had said no more. All four blonde children followed their mother out of the courtyard.

Robb

The first time he saw the princess he thought he was looking at an angel. Her angelic features and forest eyes were framed by a mane of blonde curls that cascaded like a golden waterfall. The harsh Baratheon colours would have diluted her beauty so luckily she was wearing Lannister colours.

He couldn't help but do nothing but stare open-mouthed at the Princess, hopefully not looking too simple-minded.

When the King pushed her forwards he could see the calm and elegant exterior falter momentarily and a flash of anger appeared in her eyes. Robb's eyes met Joanna's for a split second and he tried to give her a sympathetic smile. Unfortunately the princess was less than impressed and she gave him a cold glare.

Surprised he couldn't take his eyes off of her even when she returned to her mother and uncle, who gave her a reassuring look. Robb couldn't help but notice the strong resemblance between Joanna and the King Slayer however a quick glance to the side shocked his soul. The crown prince was giving him a stare that burned with hatred and made Robb wonder what he had done to upset Joffrey.

As the Royal family left the courtyard Jon and Theon approached him.

"Did you see the princess? Think about all the southern boys who get to see that body every day." Theon laughed.

"That's if the prince lets anyone near her. Don't let him catch you staring or you'll get the death stare that Robb just received." Jon said, smirking at his half-brother. "But she looks too much like a Lannister for me. I doubt she could last long up North."