Hello. Sorry it took me a bit to update, I had some stuff I had to figure out and kind of forgot about it, then I had to deal with semester exams. But I'm back and eager to get back to work. So with out further adieu, let's start the show!

High Valyrian will be Italicized

Dothraki will be bolded

Inner thoughts will be in between apostrophes

Chapter 3

The feast was in full swing; After the king and his party rested from their journey, Lord Stark through a celebration in honor of the king, and his friend, arriving to Winterfell. Jon's father was standing in the corner talking with his younger brother Benjen, who was First Ranger of the Night's Watch, an elite order that has been guarding the realms of men for 8,000 years. They did so from the Wall, a 700 foot tall, 300 mile wide wall of ice that was built by Bran the Builder, the founder of House Stark after the Long Night. From what Jon has heard, the Watch was but a shadow of it's former glory and it's remaining, meager forces could barely defend even one castle. Still, he's always wanted to join the Night's Watch and be a Ranger like his Uncle Benjen. He planned to ride with him to Castle Black once the king leaves for King's Landing, possibly with his father in tow. It's all anyone can talk(or at the very least gossip and whisper) about. The king rode all the way here to make Ned Stark the new Hand of the King, who acts as the king's primary advisor and rules the kingdoms when the king can't. He wasn't sure if he had accepted yet, but knowing his father, he would simply out of honor and respect for his old friend and brother in all but blood. Jon turned his head and his eyes fell on the head table where Queen Cersei was talking to Lady Stark. He couldn't tell what they were saying exactly, but from the looks of it Lady Stark was trying to make the Queen feel better about the North. Cersei seemed to be only half listening as she was also looking at something and seething. Jon followed her gaze and found King Robert, completely drunk and with a women in his lap. A woman who wasn't his wife. 'Huh. Well, I guess if I would be mad to if my spouse was being so flagrantly unfaithful right in front of me' he thought in a resigned manner. You'd think being king would've made him more serious, but apparently you'd be wrong, and Jon could tell that his father, Lady Stark and the Queen were all thinking the same thing if the disgusted, annoyed, and disappointed looks on their faces were anything to go by. Jon looked away from the king and at the royal children. Tommen, being the youngest, was sitting next to his mother at the head table. Myrcella was sitting and talking with some of the girls her age with her uncle, the Kingslayer close by, and Joffrey was sitting a few seats away from Sansa. Jon visibly shuddered and a slight uneasy feeling grew in his stomach when he saw the Crown Prince's face. He was staring at Sansa like a wolf who found his next meal. Or like a monster who found his next victim. Jon moved to separate the two when a he saw something hit Sansa's face from out of nowhere. It seems Arya got bored and flung some food at Sansa with her spoon. Jon chuckled to himself and saw Lady Stark nod at Arya to Robb, who promptly stood up and carried Arya away, probably to bed where she can't cause anymore trouble. Jon looked around and noticed that Prince Orys wasn't present. 'Not Prince Orys, just Orys' He reminded himself. So far, the 'Young Stag' was the strangest out of the King's children. Actually, he was the strangest out everybody he had ever met. He noticed Orys stepping out and moved to follow. He went outside and Orys was nowhere to be found. "Damn, Where did he go? He was just here" Jon said in exasperation "Yes, he tends to do that." Jon turned around to face the voice that said that and was surprised at the sight before him. "My nephew seems to have the uncanny ability to simply disappear in to thin air at will. An ability which has vexed his parents, his uncles, his siblings and his grandfather, As well as several soldiers and guards, be they Kingsguard, Lannister, or Baratheon" The man standing before Jon was none other than Tyrion Lannister, the Half-Man, the Imp of Casterly Rock, son of Tywin Lannister and younger brother to the Queen and the Kingslayer. "What are you doing back there?" Jon asked him "Preparing for a night with your family" Tyrion answered "Looking for my nephew are you?" he continued "You're Tyrion Lannister. The Queen's brother?" Jon asked instead of answering him "My greatest accomplishment" replied the imp "and you are Ned Stark's bastard aren't you?" He asked Jon, who couldn't tell if he was being rhetorical or not. Angered, Jon walked began to walk away from the imp before hearing "Did I offend you? Sorry" Jon turned around to look at Lord Tyrion. "But you are the bastard, aren't you?" He asked Jon again, still waiting for him to answer. Jon then said "Lord Eddard Stark is my father" "And Lady Stark is not your mother, making you, a bastard" Tyrion said. "let me give you some advice bastard" Lord Tyrion said "never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you." Lord Tyrion began to walk off when he finished and Jon, in an angered manner said "What the hell do you know about being a bastard?!" The Imp turned around, a tired expression on his face, and said "All dwarves are bastards in their father's eyes". Then he left, leaving Jon to ponder his words.

The next morning was sluggish at best. Everybody was either sleeping, nursing a hangover, or both. Jon could swear he can hear the King snoring in his room all the way from the courtyard, but he put that out of his mind for now, because right now it was time to train. Ser Rodrik Cassel, the Castellan and Master-at-Arms of Winterfell, was a strict man and didn't tolerate insubordination or tardiness. The man was a knight, a rare and rather strange occurrence in the North, as knights are only prevalent in the Faith of the Seven. Meaning you would rarely ever find a knight, or anyone who cared about knights, in the North or in any place that doesn't worship the Seven, like the North. Ser Rodrik was one of the few people in the North to ever be granted a knighthood, but Jon thought that if anyone deserved it, it was Ser Rodrik. Ser Rodrik was steadfast, honorable, and from what he has seen and heard, skilled on the battlefield. He feels bad for anyone who gets on the old knight's bad side. As Master-at-Arms of Winterfell, it is his job and his duty to train men how to fight during times of peace, and to lead the charge during times of war. The Master-at-Arms is also responsible for training the sons or wards of the lord he serves. Meaning that Ser Rodrik was in charge of training Robb, Bran, and Rickon when he gets older. He even trained Theon and Jon, despite Jon being a bastard and Theon basically being a hostage. At the moment, Ser Rodrik was judging a spar between Robb and Joffrey, and it was clear that Joffrey didn't stand a chance. The Crown Prince had no skill, no technique. He just blindly swings his sword, expecting to hit something. Robb on the other hand, was beating the Prince's arse without even trying. The fight ended when Robb disarmed Joffrey and knocked him to the ground. Ser Rodrik stepped forward and named Robb the winner. Joffrey got back up, clearly upset and annoyed that he lost and while he was fuming, somebody said "HAHAHAHAAH! THAT was hilarious!" A thud of boots hitting the ground could be heard and the speaker revealed himself to be Orys, who stepped up to his older brother and put an arm around his shoulder "he really beat your spoiled arse good, didn't he?" Orys said in between laughs. Joffrey shrugged his arm off him and glared at Orys, who continued to laugh. "That was the most fun I've had in YEARS." he said as his laughter died down. Joffrey seethingly yelled "BE QUIET YOU LITTLE SHIT OR I WILL " "You'll what? Huh? Go crying to Mother? Try to fight me yourself? HA, let's be honest Joff, you have never been a good fighter. The only reason you've ever won a sparing match is because everybody LET you win and didn't actually fight you in fear of being punished or killed for it." Said Orys, cutting Joffrey off mid threat "That's a lie! I won because I was a better fighter than them!" Joffrey said, enraged. "Oh please, you're terrible at fighting and everybody knows it. Why do you think Mother always has FIVE fully armored guards accompany you where ever you go?" Orys pointed out. Joffrey had at that point started sputtering in rage, unable to find a retort to Orys' statement, and instead said "If you're so sure of that, why don't you fight me right know?" Thinking he would back off, Joffrey puffed out his chest and smiled smugly at his brother. Orys adopted a sly smirk and said "Gladly. Ser Rodrik, would you mind giving me a sparing sword please?" Ser Rodrik moved to do do, but Joffrey interceded with "No. No sparing swords. We will fight using live steel." He smiled maliciously while drawing his sword. "Are you mad?! If we fight with live steel, one of us could get hurt or DIE!" Orys said in a tone of disbelief. "What? Scared that you are going to lose?" Joffrey said mockingly, the Lannister soldiers laughing loudly in the background as if it was the funniest thing they have ever heard. "No, I'm just using my brain like a SMART person" Orys replied, enunciating the word smart. Joffrey just continued to stand there with a smug grin on his face "Well if you're to SCARED, then I GUESS I could use a sparring sword. For your sake at least" He said winningly. Orys just facepalmed and shook his head at his older brother's stupidity. Before he could answer, Jon said "I'll spar with you". Everyone's heads turned towards him, the Lannister guards looked at him as if he grew a second head. Joffrey looked at him with disgust and said "Who asked you BASTARD?! And how dare you even suggest that a prin" "Deal" Orys accepted Jon's challenge, cutting Joffrey of again. Jon stepped forward and picked up a sparring sword from the rack while Orys took the sword Joffrey used. They both swung their swords around a bit and circled each other slowly, observing each other's every move, looking for weaknesses. All eyes in the courtyard were on them, watching eagerly and earnestly as a bastard fought a Prince of the Realm. Even Ser Rodrik watched them with interest. He trained Jon since he was old enough to swing a sword and could proudly say that he was one of the best swordsmen he had ever trained. However, he couldn't discount the young prince just yet either. He had no idea of what the boy was capable of and could not therefore say that he was worse than Jon. 'This should be interesting' thought the old knight.

And there it is! We'll see how the fight turns out next time

Until then

Valar Morghulis