A Song of Fire, Ice and Hearts

by Jebest4781

Venturing outside of the Heart of his Somebody, a Nobody enters a World where it's at the brink of self destruction. Will he be able to handle and survive the Game of Thrones. Rated M for language, violence, etc. Pairings hidden at current time. KHXGoT/ASoIaF CoWritten by free man writer. Cover Image by Carlos M. Please leave reviews.

8. The Game Begins

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Disney, Square-Enix or Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire. They rightfully belong to their respective owners.

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

Writing/Singing

"Foreign Language/Flashback"

-Scene Shift-

Chapter 8: The Game Begins

Jon Snow… was falling.

Falling in an endless void of darkness. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he realized just what was happening.

Inhaling sharply, Jon righted himself in midair and looked around frantically.

What happened? Where was he? How did he get here?

Last he recalled, he was in his room back at Winterfell and he had laid down to sleep. Ghost was with him but right now, he was nowhere to be found.

Glancing down at himself, he found himself garbed in traditional Stark clothing similar to that of a lord though his sleeves were pitch black.

When he had looked down at himself, Jon spotted something far below him. Something that he was apparently falling down to.

-Insert Kingdom Hearts: Dive into the Heart-

It looked like some kind of platform. It was decorated lavishly in colors of blue and grey, glass like flowers all over the edge and other patterns Jon couldn't even begin to describe. Yet the center…. Seemed so empty.

Getting closer to the platform, it was strange that Jon didn't feel like panicking or worrying as he found himself gently landing at the bottom edge of the platform.

Was this a dream?

It sure felt like one yet at the same time, it didn't.

What was all this?

Taking a moment to look around, Jon saw that he was standing upon this platform in what appeared to be a near endless void of black darkness.

He suddenly jolted upon "hearing" a mysterious voice.

"So much to do. So little time…" it said. "Take your time. Don't be afraid."

It was a bizarre experience as he heard the words yet there was no truly behind it. They were just there. What did it mean? It had a rather contradictory statement with it telling him that there was little time however he should take it step by step.

Looking forward, the "voice" spoke once more.

"The path before you… is shut. Now step forward. Can you do it?"

Cautiously, Jon walked forward with him gazing up at the darkness.

Suddenly, three lights shined down upon three spots around him with three pedestals rising from the ground. More flashes of lights followed and upon the pedestals were three weapons.

"Power sleeps within you."

One was a pristinely made long sword that appeared perfect in weight, design and craftsmanship that floated in front of him.

"If you give it form…"

To the back of his left was a shield of equal craft to the sword, silver and gleaming with a white Direwolf face forward and stoically looking towards him.

"It will give you strength."

The third weapon to his back right however was rather bizarre to say the least. The handle was green with lightish yellow-brown accents on either end with a brown diamond shaped piece which had a jeweled direwolf's head situated at the top. It was finely crafted on the depiction upon first glance.

"Choose well."

A choice? He was being given a choice?

That's not something he usually had the luxury of taking.

Whatever this was, Jon saw that there appeared to be no way off this platform.

So he had only one thing to do.

Taking a moment to regard each weapon that surrounded him, Jon figured he'd start with the one most familiar to him.

Walking up to the longsword, Jon delicately reached out and grabbed hold of the handle with the "voice" speaking once more.

"The Power of the Warrior. Invincible Courage. A sword of Terrible Destruction."

Jon couldn't help but grimace slightly at the last statement. Terrible destruction, eh? He's not entirely sure how comfortable he'd be with that. Taking a few practice swings with the blade, he was rather amazed at the ease and grace of which he used it, with the swords edge practically cutting through the air itself. In all honesty, it was a bit frightening with how easy this blade was to use after hearing that it can be a tool of terrible destruction.

Then Jon blinked, seeing a brief litany of flashes through his eyes. It was his memories. The times growing up while practicing his swordsmanship and refining his capabilities over the years. There were however other images that he couldn't quite make out. It was him running towards an endless horde of a terrifying enemy in the blistering cold.

Letting go of the sword, it floated back in place with him now going over to the shield.

Grabbing it from the pedestal, Jon regarded the wolf on the shield.

"The Power of the Guardian. Kindness to aid friends. A shield to Repel All."

Now this is something that sounded much more pleasant in Jon's mind. He loved his brothers and sisters dearly and if asked, would do anything and everything in his power to protect them. Yet… he was choosing to leave Winterfell and join the order of the Night's Watch. Though they may be the shield that guards the realms of men, to repel the dangers that lurk beyond them Jon felt… unworthy of being given such a title.

Then came the other images, him spending more personal moments with his siblings. And then, he stood alone with a shield up and a pillar of darkness being held back by him alone.

Letting the shield go, it floated back into place while he walked over to the final item.

It was strange, to say the least yet it was here. What words would it say to him?

Grabbing the staff, Jon held it up to him while finally examining the jeweled direwolf head on the top of the tool.

"The power of the Mystic. Inner Strength. A staff of Wonder and Ruin."

This time, Jon only saw flashes of his Direwolf Ghost. He was all grown up and held a powerful aura surrounding him. His blood red eyes morphed into his own grey ones when the image before him shifted into one of a terrifying visage of a dragon laying ruin to fields and castles.

Stepping back from it all, Jon regarded all three weapons now with a slight understanding of what each one represented.

They each held an aspect of him so to speak. His strength with his sword, his unending love for those closest to him and the mental link he knows he has with his Direwolf.

So which one should he go with?

Taking a moment to give the weapons one last glance, much as he didn't like it's particularly last statement, Jon went back to the sword and grasped it. He heard the phrase to describe it once more only this time with the added question of this being the power he chose.

Though he didn't state it out loud, it was as if it responded to his thoughts and his… heart. The sword let off a flash of light before disappearing.

"Your path is set."

Jon turned back to the other two pedestals.

"Now, what will you give up in exchange?"

He had to give something up? Figures things wouldn't be as simple as they appeared.

Going forward, Jon found it rather strange at how easy it was to choose the staff. To him, it was the strangest of the three choices however above all else it was the last description phrase that he had heard when first holding this staff. The power of Wonder and Ruin.

Kinda like his own perspective on magic when he had seen Roxas use it or when he fought the Heartless. Both amazing as it can also be terrifying.

The staff had vanished when he chose this to be the power he gave up.

"You've chosen the power of the warrior. You've given up the power of the mystic. Is this the form you choose?"

Wordlessly, Jon nodded and in an instant the pedestals jolted downwards and sank away, vanishing.

Suddenly, Jon saw the platform he stood upon begin to shatter like glass with him backing away into the middle until he fell.

Falling further and deeper into the darkness, Jon's feet landed on solid ground.

Gasping, Jon saw that he now stood on another circular platform only this one was distinctly different.

This one held an artistic rendering… of himself!

He was garbed in black, brown and silver with his hair tied back while his head was inclined down. Gazing to the rest of his body, Jon noted how it appeared that he was positioned in a stance akin to a warrior readying himself for combat.

Yet his right hand, clenched in a fist, was empty. He knew it was due to the fact that that was how he grasped a sword.

Looking above where his head was, there were five blank circles surrounding him. A moment later, however, a spark of light appeared in the center of the cluster of circles and a familiar face appeared.

It was his beloved sister Arya!

She was smiling cheerfully, the old mischievous look in her eyes on top of the undying love she had for her favorite older brother. The way she was portrayed was similar to the artistic representation of Jon himself. He wasn't sure how to describe it really.

Still, it was strangely comforting for him in seeing Arya even though she wasn't here physically. Strange really. He knew she wasn't here yet… it felt as if she was. In his heart.

-Insert Kingdom Hearts: Night of Fate-

Jon then found himself facing Shadows that appeared from the ground. Without even realizing it, he held the longsword he had chosen in his hand.

"There will be times you have to fight. Keep your Light burning strong. The bonds you share give you strength within."

Tightening his hold on his blade, Jon did not wait on the Shadows to come for him. Instead, he struck first and was surprised at how he had dispatched one of the Shadows with one easy swing. Shaking his head, Jon refocused on the other Heartless that were now running towards him.

Cleaving through one after another, Jon felt himself growing faster and stronger after every strike.

The battle was a short skirmish, with the Heartless gone in a matter of a handful of minutes.

He wasn't as winded as he usually was when battling these dark creatures, barely out of breath.

Jon then tensed up at seeing pools of darkness appear around him until it consumed the entire platform. He stumbled into the shadows when he was pulled through.

Gasping and frantically waving around, Jon suddenly felt a hard surface on his back.

Sitting up quickly Jon saw he was now on another platform with him back in the center, Arya above his head. But he also noticed that one of the blank circles now had another familiar face.

Robb, his brother.

Bewildered as to what was going on, he looked at both Starks, the siblings he was closest to. Now that he thought of it, there were still three circles that remained blank. Robb and Arya were his siblings, without a doubt the ones he was closest to. However he still loved his other siblings as unconditionally as he did Arya and Robb. So these three blank circles must be Bran, Rickon and mayhaps even Sansa as distant as she can be at times.

So now what?

He got an answer when a translucent door appeared above Arya's circle.

Walking up to it, he reached out only for his hand to phase through it.

Frowning, Jon was unsure how to proceed.

"Be prepared for the unforeseen."

Figuring something would appear, Jon turned back and saw more Heartless had appeared. Whipping his hand back, he thought of how often he had now seen Roxas call for his Keyblades and his longsword appeared once again.

Dashing forward as several of the Shadows jumped up at him, he ducked beneath those in the air and aimed for the ones still on the ground.

With one quick horizontal slash, he cut through two of the before skidding to a halt mid sprint and whirling about to face the remaining Heartless.

It still surprised him at how quickly and easily he had been able to defeat the Heartless when he had so often struggled before. Was it this place? This place didn't feel like anything else he had seen before. Was this new place the reason as to why he was feeling stronger than before?

Dispatching the Heartless, Jon turned back to regard the door and found that it was now solid in appearance. Walking over to it, he gave it a few test knocks when the doors jolted open with a bright light shining through the crack. Closing his eyes to block the shining light, the door eventually opened entirely with its light encompassing Jon.

-Insert Kingdom Hearts 2.8 Back Cover: Cases of Fortellers-

Blinking out the black splotches from his vision, Jon froze momentarily and found himself standing within the training grounds of Winterfell.

He was home!

Or so he thought.

Around him, the area was barren and completely empty.

And now that he looked at it, or better yet, felt it… it was as if Winterfell just stood alone in an endless void due to the skies shining a bright blue and stretched on endlessly into the horizon.

He then realized that he wasn't standing alone.

Around him was Arya, Robb and his father, Ned Stark.

Arya was sitting on a cart wagon, feet casually swaying back and forth. Robb stood in the direction to the exit of Winterfell and beside him was his own Direwolf Grey Wind, whom he was petting. Ned stood toward the entryway to the great hall of Winter fell, the ancestral sword Ice with its edge embedded into the ground while he grasped the handle with both hands.

All in all, he knew that they were indeed the family he had grown up with but he knew that something was amiss.

They had not regarded him in the slightest. Arya did not bound up to him as she usually did, Robb had not given him the usual brotherly smile and Father had not regarded with his comforting grey eyes and a pat on the shoulder to signify that bastard he may be, he was still his son.

Stepping towards Arya, his little sister regarded him and spoke though he did not hear her utter a word. Yet he still knew what she said.

"What do you Fear more than anything?"

Jon found himself balking at the sudden question coming from his sister. Nonetheless, the question rang through his head.

It was bizarre how he had not said anything yet the answer still came.

"Not finding a place in this world. Is that really so scary?"

Arya turned away with Jon giving her one last look before going over to Robb now.

"What do you want out of your life?"

How in the Seven Hells was he supposed to answer that one? That one felt so complicated. He was to join the Night's Watch and that meant his duty was to the Realms of Men.

"To do your duty to the Realm, Huh?"

These responses he was getting felt stranger and stranger. It was completely backhanded though he had no idea. Was it meant to challenge him on his answers? He honestly did not know.

Going over to his Father, his grim visage looking to address him.

"What is it that you value above all else?"

Now that one was both easy and difficult to explain. Because he as a bastard didn't have much, what he did have was something he held dear. Then… he thought of Roxas. The newest guest to Winterfell was truly an oddity to many but he had done something for Roxas that only a select few have done in his entire life.

"Being accepted for who you are? Is that so important?"

As soon as those last words were uttered more came up.

"You're afraid of being unable to find purpose in this world. You want to do your duty to the Realm. You wish for acceptance."

Hearing this mysterious "voice" once more, Jon nodded in confirmation.

"Your Journey starts at night, where the night is darkest before the dawn. It will be difficult and test you to your absolute limits."

Jon tensed up at hearing these words but knew there was no going back now.

"The end of your path is so close and yet so far. Endure for that is the way to reach your end."

Shaking his head from a sudden blinding light, Jon saw he was back where he was before. On the circular platform with his artistic rendering with Arya still above above him, Robb to his upper left but now a third circle was filled in. And it was his father!

He had thought that it would be mayhaps Bran or Rickon but he was honestly not expecting his father.

His attention was then turned to a spotlight that had apparently been shining down upon him when it travelled forward, eventually reaching the end of the platform.

Upon going off the edge, a rectangular platform appeared followed by another and another until creating a long path of winding steps towards another platform.

"Don't hesitate. Look back only to learn but never to dwell. The path ahead is one that takes courage."

Courage eh? If he were to be honest with himself right about now, he was kind of scared from all this. What exactly was he doing here and what was the point of it all? Was this some kind of manifestation of his subconscious?

Only one way to find out.

Stepping on one of the glass panels, he found it to be solid and stable and thus began going up the winding staircase.

Eventually, he arrived at another platform with him still in the center and now, four of the circles had been filled out.

To the bottom right of his head, Ghost had taken his place. What did all of this mean? When he thought about it, these four in the circles represented those whom he held a special, unshakeable bond with.

Arya, the sibling he adored most and in turn adored him.

Robb, his brother he had grown up with.

Ned, his father and idol he aspired to be like even in the slightest way possible.

And Ghost, his Direwolf, his companion, his partner that was connected to him in mind and soul.

So who was the fifth one?

"Those who seek answers are those who must also be willing to take risks. Are you willing to risk yourself to find yourself?"

What the hells was that supposed to mean?

This was beyond frustrating now!

Stomping his foot on the ground, Jon looked around, spotting another path of glass staircases leading upwards once more.

Instead of walking, Jon ran at full speed, climbing higher and higher up the steps until reaching the next platform.

Trying to find whatever was new, Jon's eyes widened.

Roxas stood in the center!

Going over to him in hopes of getting an answer, the Keyblader he knows and befriended instead held out his hand both in a motion of stopping Jon in his tracks while also summoning his Keyblade. Yet this one was not Oblivion and Oathkeeper. This Keyblade was the same shape as the wooden one he had made for Arya.

Roxas gripped the edge of it from the teeth's end and held it out to Jon.

"In your hand, take this Key."

Jon glanced at the Keyblade before back up at Roxas.

"So long as you have the makings, then through this simple act of taking, its wielder you shall one day be. And you will find me friend and no Wall will contain you then. No more borders around or below or above, so long as you champion the ones you love."

Jon wasn't sure what exactly that meant yet the words… resonated with him. Slowly, he raised his hand up and grasped at the handle with Roxas giving him a small smile until he disappeared.

A flash of light later and Jon saw that the fifth and final circle had been filled.

Roxas.

On top of that, the empty hand Jon had was now wielding a longsword that looked akin to Valyrian Steel.

It felt as though this journey was now complete.

So why was he still here?

Looking at the center of the platform, the bastard of Winterfell saw a faint pillar of light shine down from the darkness above. He gazed down to where it landed and saw it was placed dead center of his artistic platform. Curious as to what it's for, Jon walked closer before standing inside of it.

It was there he felt it. Feeling himself… energized and refreshed? It was as if any and all forms of exhaustion he had against the Heartless he fought earlier never came to him in the first place.

"The closer you get to the light, the greater your shadow becomes."

This left Jon quite confused as to what the "voice" meant. He was indeed dumbfounded on the meaning.

Yet there was this odd chill running down his spine. A feeling which made him want to look back.

As he did, Jon saw his shadow starting to extend and move on it's own: regardless of himself. After several moments, it began to rise from the artistic platform. As it stood, Jon saw it took on a form that looked like a mixture of himself and the Shadow Heartless. And once it formed, it began to grow bigger and bigger, which caused Jon to take several steps back in fright.

"But don't be afraid."

Jon was very much afraid, running away until he realized he had nowhere to go with the glass staircases being nowhere to be found.

It wasn't long after it's sudden growth, the unique shadow detached from him and became something else and took on a different form entirely.

"And don't forget."

-Insert Kingdom Hearts: Destiny's Force-

The Heartless was completely gigantic in scale, looking as though it could possibly tower over the largest tower of Winterfell itself!

This oversized Shadow was quite muscular, despite it's oddly sized limbs. For instance he was possibly as tall as the Heartless' ankle or lower calf. And that's saying something with the legs being uniquely short with it's jester shoe like feet. It's arms were quite long and had two relatively small, twisted wings on it's back. The hair on top of it's head formed into tentacles, which mostly wrapped around it's jaw and neck for some unique looking scarf. And the center of it's chest was an extremely large heart-shaped hole, which penetrated straight through from its front to it's back.

Jon knew he had no where else to go and nothing to do. Nothing… but fight.

Hoping the "magic" hadn't worn off, Jon threw his hand out and to his small relief, the longsword he had chosen from the start appeared.

The giant Heartless reared its fist back and Jon barely covered the distance when he jumped back as the hand smashed down to the ground. The shockwave of the impact sent him flying back more, landing hard on the ground.

Though his adrenaline was going now, with him scrambling back up and sprinting forward. Rearing his sword back, he slashed at the Heartless's hand though it barely scratched him. Gritting his teeth, Jon swung his sword several more times when he felt something smash into his back.

Landing hard on the ground, Jon managed to sit up in time to see a Shadow leaping right at him.

Instinctively, he threw his sword up with the edge piercing through and destroying the Shadow.

He then saw other Shadows appearing with the giant Heartless retracting its hand.

Wonderful, now he had to deal with the small fry on top of this gigantic Heartless he had never even seen before.

It was official. This was a nightmare.

Getting back up to his feet, Jon held up his blade at the ready and ran forward. Slashing through several shadows, Jon narrowly avoided a giant fist while lunging at another Shadow with his sword going right through it.

The Giant Heartless stepped forward until it collapsed to its knees. A kind of reddish, black energy began to form from the heart shaped hole in its chest until beams of energy shot out and flew directly at him.

Not realizing what he was doing, Jon swung his sword and actually deflected one of the energy beams yet the other one had managed to hit him dead on.

Feeling pain all over his body, Jon could barely rise to his feet as the giant Heartless had now regarded him with its beady yellow eyes.

Teeth clenched, Jon knew he could only wait and see what the Heartless would do next.

It kneeled down once more, this time grasping one hand by the wrist and another sphere of energy swirled around the open palm.

Rushing forward, Jon cut at the hand before going for a more daring approach. Jumping forward, he embedded his sword into its arm and attempted to climb up to its head.

It failed rather immediately as the Heartless shot up the energy sphere up above with it standing upright once more.

Jon helplessly dangled from the arm, gripping his sword tightly with both hands.

It was then that Jon noticed that a small sphere of darkness was falling upon the platform and one struck his dead on.

Grunting, Jon fell to the ground once more and landed hard.

He was honestly starting to feel beyond exhausted as he had essentially been thrashed by this giant Heartless the entire time. Didn't Roas say he faced Heartless like this one before? Those that were larger than towers and villages?

How in the Seven Hells did he do it?

Jon struggled to sit up, when the ground shuddered.

As the monstrous Heartless collapsed down onto the platform, a large pool of darkness formed.

Jon was about to try and get away from the inky, fiery substance but his leg was snagged by the giant's tentacle-like hair. The darkness then started dragging him in with Jon swinging his longsword down in hopes of freeing himself. After several strikes, his weapon suddenly disappeared in odd embers of light. The bastard panicked, fought and struggled to get free.

Yet the pull was too strong for his escape.

"Don't be afraid."

'Easy for you to say.' Jon roared in his mind as the darkness started to envelop him.

"You hold one of the mightest weapons of all."

Jon kept fighting with all his might, but it was all in vain.

"So don't forget…"

All forms of light seemed to disappear from his vision, as if death had finally come to claim him.

"You are the one that will help light this World from it's Long Night."

-Waking World-

Jon awoke with a fright, shooting upright with a gasp as his body seized him from the peculiar nightmare's hold. A cold sweat caused parts of his sleepwear to cling onto his skin. Blinking in rapid succession, the bastard whirled his head around his bedroom with his heart slowly coming down from it's erratic state.

Parts of his dream were still fresh in his mind. Standing on the odd stained glass platforms, fighting the Heartless and the swallowing darkness towards the end. Everything else was oddly hazy, as if the darkness which tried to consume him blocked anything else for him to recall.

He tried, he tried. For all the tries he made racking through his mind, nothing could ever surface asides from those three parts.

Jon did, however, wish he did forget the fear he felt at the dream's end.

His thinking process ended upon feeling a wet tongue lapping at his hand. Looking over, Jon saw Ghost staring at him with his red worried eyes. A small whine emanated from the direwolf's throat as he tried comforting his human companion.

Releasing a sigh, Jon gave a soft smile. "Sorry on startling you, Ghost." He patted the albino direwolf's head before scratching at just the right places to make the worry die just a little. "Just a nightmare. Nothing more."

It was a lie, Jon told himself. It was a means to convince himself to ease the immense fear he felt.

He did, however, decide to talk to Roxas when he got the chance. Parts of the dream were bugging him, prompting him in wanting to learn their meaning. And so far, part of him thought his friend was the best at giving him the answers he presently sought.

"Best get ready for the day." Jon muttered, prying himself out of bed. "Especially today of all days."

Thinking about his dreams almost made him forget King Robert, his immediate family and their entourage were finally arriving to Winterfell today. Though if not today, then it would absolutely be tomorrow at the latest.

Hard to really tell at times, unless a rider or a raven came in to inform their immediate arrival some hours in advance.

As he started to get dressed, Jon started going over what he needed to take care of before the royal party arrived.

One of the first things that came to mind was him needing to get trimmed up. Lady Catelyn informed him, Robb and Theon of this yesterday as it needed to be done first thing in the morning after breakfast. After that, Jon just needed to either help the servants out in the final preparations or go with Roxas for Heartless patrols.

Jon didn't know if he should do the later option or the former, given Lady Catelyn's views towards him.

Ned's bastard knows his father's wife doesn't want him present when the royal party arrives. If he were, it would be towards the back with the other servants or hardly seen at all. And if that were the case, Jon would rather join Roxas in slaying Heartless and being sure the roads and grounds are safer for everyone.

Especially with King Robert and his entourage arriving soon.

But Jon had a feeling his father wanted him to at least be present for the upcoming arrival. So if he decided to stay at Winterfell's grounds, Jon would need to assist the servants with their tasks just in time for things to go underway.

Now a small part of him spoke staying behind would be a bit too… boring. It was a little childish for argument's sake. Who can really blame him? Especially after Roxas rolled into his life.

Jon remembered his father telling him to go out there and live his life a little, even if it was the simplest of things to the noblest. He decided long ago he'll be going to the Wall and becoming a Brother to the Night's Watch when the time came. And sure enough, a part of him said that time will be coming very soon. He wanted to get matters settled before his departure and he wanted to prepare by then.

One of them, of course, was fighting the Heartless.

They weren't the wildlings, thank the gods, but who knows what else lies beyond the Wall further north. Could the myths and legends told all so long ago be true and the Heartless be a warm up for them?

If so, then he'll need to get more experience fighting them before joining the Watch. Perhaps his new experience will be beneficial for the old Order.

...Now what was his debate again?

Decisions, decisions.

Once all ready, headed towards the door with Ghost coming right beside him.

The pair trudged through the old halls with the occasional servant passing by in a hurried pace. With the coming arrival, Jon didn't blame them for being rushed and having a one track mind.

None of them wanted to embarrass House Stark for what's to come.

And like them, Jon will do whatever it takes to not embarrass his father's House.

At the other side of the main keep, Sansa was stirring from her bed with a small yawn emanating from her mouth. Moving a little on her bed, she felt the familiar weight of her direwolf, Lady, sleeping beside her feet.

As long as she yearned to stay in bed a lot longer, Sansa had to remind herself that today was the day of the royal family making their arrival. Part of her wished it was tomorrow, but the rest of her had to make it today.

Soon the rapping on her chamber door could be heard.

"Lady Sansa? Are you up?"

That was her best friend, Jeyne Poole, at the door. She was here to help prepare her for not just a normal day but also for the royal guests.

"Give me a moment, Jeyne." Sansa politely called out.

Pulling off her sheets, Ned's eldest daughter was about to climb out of bed before noticing two things. One was a wet… sticky feeling around her legs and upon looking down, she saw red on both parts of her sheets and sleep garments.

"Oh~ Not again."

With the chamber door opening, Jeyne walked inside. "Are you excited for-" The stewardess gasped a little before sucking in her teeth. "Oh I'm so sorry, my Lady."

"It's… alright, Jeyne." Sansa breathed out. "It's just going to be more work for the servants."

Indeed it will be. Cleaning out blood from clothed items isn't all that bad to most people. It's a commonality during times of war, battles to even the simplest of fights. Yet it all depends on how long the blood has been set and how much. If it can't be properly cleaned out, then the cloth must be disposed of with a new one replacing the old.

This can be very much said and done, but what Sansa -and all women out there- is going through is very embarrassing.

"Forget about the sheets, Sansa. Focus more towards the coming guests."

"You are right, Jeyne."

"Now let's get you out of that and get you cleaned. I already have a bath drawn in the neighboring room."

Nodding in appreciation, Sansa disrobed the dirty garment as she was now in her naked glory.

The eldest daughter of Ned Stark was slowly developing into a fine woman for her age. Her breasts were small, yet had time to grow to a decent size. Her childbearing hips were good along with her legs, despite the present blood stain shown on her lower regions. And with the morning air seeping through and caressing her unblemished and flawless pale skin to help finish off her natural beauty.

In the coming years, she will no doubt be a great beauty which many will fight over.

Reaching for her friend, Jeyne handed her a robe to temporarily wrap herself in so she may cover her modesty before getting to the adjacent room. By the time she was ready, Jeyne opened the door for her to pass through to get to where her bath was prepared nearby.

Her bare feet graced across the cold ground, but it wouldn't be for long as she entered the bathing room where the tub of hot water resided.

Once the door was closed and locked, Jeyne helped disrobe her before helping her friend get inside of the warm tub.

As the stewardess started scrubbing her Lady in the water, some conversations started between them.

"The entire Royal Entourage shall be arriving in a few short hours." Jeyne said amicably. "Possibly later today if we're lucky instead of so soon."

Sansa only hummed, feeling herself relax within the warm water.

"I wonder what these Southerners will be like."

"My mother is a Southerner."

"True Milady, but she has been in the North for nearly 16 years now. These are true Southerners that come from the more sunlit based realms of Westeros."

The redhead beauty nodded on the reminder. Her mother had taught her the Southern ways as a means of not losing both sides of her heritage. She appreciated this well, unlike her younger sister who focused more on her Northerner bloodline.

"Wonder who will be attending with the Royal family, my Lady."

"If it's the Royal family, possibly King Roberts' wife and his children as well." Sansa responded. "Do you think the crown prince will be handsome?"

"He could be." Jeyne answered. "He has the blood of his father and mother. Both of them were quite handsome and beautiful in their prime. No doubt will inherit that quality from them now, moreso as he gets older."

Sansa nodded as she scrubbed her lower region and legs under the water.

"Though not like Roxas/Gared." Both girls sharply looked at one another with their faces turning crimson. They stared at one another in an awkward air of silence when Jeyne was the first to break it, giving Sansa a coy smile.

"Well, well, looks like Lady Stark is smitten with a certain blond haired, blue eyed warrior." Jeyne teased.

Sansa gaped then scoffed, her own smirk etching its way onto her face.

"And for you to be smitten with a squire."

The stewardess could only blush.

"I… admit he is charming in his own right. And he was quite brave when defending us against the Heartless."

"They both were." Sansa said in a dreamy smile. "Like the true heroes of old that mother used to tell me of when I was a child."

"True." Jeyne held an expression similar to Sansa's, thinking on the dashing action of both Roxas and Gared the first time they had seen them.

"Would you think your father will allow Gared to become your husband?"

Jeyne leaned against her arm, which was draped across the tub. "I don't know for sure, Sansa. Gared is a squire and the son of a pig farmer. So I don't know if father would approve if Gared were to possibly court me."

"Yet you forget he is starting to become quite favored with House Forrester and was trained by Roxas himself. Surely your father would approve of a possible betrothal once Gared is no longer a squire."

"Perhaps, but only time will tell." Jeyne sighed out. "Until then, only the simple visits and letters will suffice."

"Oh? You've been writing to him?" Sansa asked eagerly, leaning forward to her best friend.

The stewardess blushed when she realized what she slipped from her mouth.

"A little bit." She mumbled.

Sansa only giggled, resting her head against Jeyne's arm with a smile.

"Well I think that's wonderful."

Jeyne honestly could not tell whether it was the water or her face that was producing so much steam.

"Then what of you?" Jeyne shot back.

"Pardon?"

"Of your time being with Roxas."

Processing her best friend's words, Sansa released a contained, blissful sigh as she pictured the Keyblader in her mind.

"He is truly a man of my dreams." Came the Stark's remark. "A young man worth being with. His tales of fighting against those monsters are something of a murmur's tale, yet are in fact reality. He valiantly fights for others and is kind to those deserving of it."

"He'd make a fine husband, wouldn't you say?" Jeyne asked teasingly.

"Most definitely."

"Unashamed, aren't we?"

"I'm not the one sending love letters to my dearly beloved on the far end of the kingdom."

Gasping, Jeyne playfully retaliated by splashing water onto Sansa who laughed with her friend joining a moment later

They grew silent a moment later.

"Would you truly be content with marrying someone like Roxas?" Jeyne found herself asking.

"I just hope mother and father would approve of the idea. Roxas has been earning their respect and even with the rest of my family."

"That's good. But what about lands and holdings? Your mother might not let this happen if-"

"Moat Calin has been without a Lord for years." Sansa interrupted. "I'd imagine father would grant him that keep, once it's properly refurbished from its current state."

Jeyne hummed in thought as she scrubbed Sansa's red hair. "True. It's the only keep I know of that's been vacant at the moment." The stewardess then chuckled. "Highly doubt anywhere else in the North will be available. And if one would be built from the ground up, it would cost a fortune."

"Yes it would."

Gently pouring a pitcher of water onto Sansa's head to wash off the hair, Jeyne continued in a serious tone. "You truly are serious. You would actually consider forgoing marrying the prince to the Iron Throne to marry Roxas instead."

Sansa didn't respond at first, thinking about her word. "I would most like to marry him. But the idea of marrying into the throne had crossed my mind in the past, just so you know. I've never been betrothed, remember?"

"Who wouldn't." Jeyne answered, regarding both the Iron Throne and the last question. "Then I must recommend you at least your parents know of your thoughts and intentions sooner than later. At least help get the idea moving along."

Sansa only hummed at her friends' words. "Don't forget to do the same for Gared."

Jeyne lightly tapped Sansa's head with the two giggling once more.

-Later-

The sound of Tom's razor running over Robb's jaw was a low, slick noise to Jon as he and Theon stood waiting for their turn to be shaved and trimmed as well. The three of them were bare chested, wearing only their pants and boots with their shirts and jackets piled by the nearby table. Robb was quiet and still as Winterfell's barber trimmed away his beard, making him seem as a boy rather than a young man by the end of the process.

"Why's your mother so dead set on us getting pretty for the king?" Jon voiced in confusion at it all. All three of them kept themselves clean-shaven-and why in the seven hells did they have to be sheared like sheep? "You know the stories told that Robert doesn't care if you're thick bearded or barely have any hair on your face."

"It's for the queen, I bet." Theon said. "I hear she's a sleek bit of meat."

"I hear the prince is a right royal prick." Robb muttered as Tom ran his hands over his cheeks and jaws, looking for any stray hair he might have missed between the cream and the blade.

"And think of all those southern girls he gets to stab with his right royal prick." Theon snorted, causing all three of them to snigger.

Tom clapped his hands against Robb's bare, broad shoulders, signaling the heir of Winterfell he'd finished. With a grin, Robb got up, before pushing a reluctant Jon to the barber. "Alright, Tom, shear him good. He's never met a girl he likes more than his own hair."

Robb and Theon laughed as they watched Jon try to look stoic as Tom sat him down, and the shears began cutting away at his dark locks of hair.

As the barber started his task, Jon voiced a question roaming on his mind. "Where is Roxas anyways? Shouldn't he be here with us?"

"Please. You think he would ever have any hair on his face." Spoke the Greyjoy.

"You're probably right on that one." Looking towards the back, Theon and Robb saw their blonde friend walking out of the neighboring room as he had forgone his Organization jacket and undershirt; revealing his bare chest to all. And wrapped around his head was a towel before pulling off to reveal his normal blond hairstyle.

"And where were you?" Robb inquired.

"Oh I already had my haircut earlier before you three showed up."

Looking at his blond locks, Theon scrunched his face. "I don't even think you even had a trim."

"Oh he did." Tom said, using a comb to help clean up Jon's messy locks. "Just didn't take all that much off him."

Looking once more, all the Greyjoy could see was the still unique hairstyle Roxas always had of the wavy, spiky look. As he did, he pretty much wore a face which spoke 'bullshit'.

Without stopping his work, Tom looked at Theon with a critical stare. "You calling me a liar, boy?"

"...No."

"Then shut yer trap."

"I didn't say anything."

"You thought of it."

Robb chuckled before looking back at the Keybearer. "Once again, where were you?"

"Was helping out Arya on a few things before we got… dirty." Roxas answered. "Because of that, she had to get cleaned up more than I did; much to her dismay."

As the others laughed a little thinking of the usual antics Arya pulls, Jon knew better.

Ever since coming back from their mission to Karhold, Jon started noticing Arya acting a bit differently. Not much in a bad way, but more good as she wasn't all that entirely wild. The others may not have noticed, but he certainly did; given how close he was towards his half-sister than the rest of the siblings.

Seeking answers, Jon tailed them and eventually found them at a secluded area in Winterfell. Reason why they were there was because Roxas was teaching the young She-wolf how to fight.

The bastard of Winterfell tried to sneak away, but was caught red handed when Ghost ended up giving away his position via barking when responding back to Nymeria's.

Arya became quite defensive on being found out. She even was quick to apologize to her not using the secret space by the stables Jon made for her. The rambles were a bit too much for him to track, but Roxas was able to help clear up the matter.

So upon learning that Roxas was helping learn how to fight, Jon was both happy yet sad on the whole thing. Happy that Arya was brave enough to seek out someone to teach her how to fight with a sword recently. Sad as she didn't come to him first.

The whole issue was resolved in the end with Jon joining in on the secret sword lessons Roxas taught his younger half-sister.

As a result of thinking on what exactly Roxas taught her this time, Jon started shaking his head, much to the gruff protest of Tom, who had to pull away his shears before he made an errant cut into Jon's head.

"Then I hope my sister didn't cause too much trouble to hold you back from your tasks."

"She hasn't Robb."

"Good to know."

"So when are you heading out for patrol?" Jon inquired from the barber's stool.

"Very soon. Just need to grab a few things from my room."

"Then you'll be done by the time the royal party arrives?" Theon asked.

"Hopefully." Roxas answered. "Heartless have been at steady numbers, but less frequent in popping up."

"Cowards retreating back to their nest, no less."

"That…" Roxas stressed out the word, "or they could be trying to rebuild their strength and send out a heavy hitter at some point."

That tidbit did stop Theon's jesting mood, realizing the dire situation that might occur. When? Well that is indeed the thousand gold dragon question now.

"Could… Could we talk about something else, please?"

"Yes, I believe that would be best."

By the time the topics changed, Tom had finished shearing away what locks he'd deemed too long on Jon's head, and proceeded to apply the shaving cream on his face to make him seem more a boy than a man.

"So tell us, Roxas, what do you think of the king, the prince and queen." Robb said.

Getting his shirt back on, the Keybearer clarified. "You mean what I think of the royal family."

"Yup."

Roxas pondered as he started getting his Organization coat back on. Flashes graced across his eyes of moments that were alien to him. He didn't know what they were on about. All he could make out from them were of a certain blonde haired teenager and a tall black haired warrior.

Not wanting to directly voice about them, Roxas shook his head a little. "I don't wanna voice my opinions about them by just stories and rumors. I haven't even met them yet. I would want to judge them with what I know about them directly."

Robb nodded as he started getting his shirt back on. "Sounds fair."

"Bah! I'd rather find entertainment with stories and rumors any day." Spoke the Greyjoy.

Jon would say something clever or supporting Roxas' remark, but he didn't want to get badly cut on accident with how Tom's knife was so close to his throat.

By the time things were done, Jon was putting back on his shirt and jacket. As he did, he saw Roxas interacting with the direwolves Greywind and Ghost. Both were happy and wagging their tails in delight as the Keybearer made them weak at the knees with him petting at just the right spots.

The mere sight alone brought a chuckle from Jon's throat.

Ever since the direwolves had been brought back to Winterfell, they always seemed strangely drawn to Roxas, yipping and wagging their tails at him. Even wanting to play or rest beside him whenever the given chance. More so with the likes of Greywind and Ghost in recent times as they want to be more physically active -like wanting to fight the Heartless- compared to the rest of their siblings.

The Keybearer had looked happy when they did come, despite certain circumstances. Robb and Jon at times found themselves sharing in their Direwolves moods as they themselves have grown to greatly appreciate Roxas's company.

Since coming back from Karhold, the trio had been finding themselves spending their own time together with the brothers joining on Roxas's patrols several times.

Though they were nowhere near as skilled as Roxas, thanks to their diligence and consistent training on top of their Direwolves by their side they were starting to wrack up quite a kill count of their own.

-Some Hours Later-

Leaning against one of the shortest towers connected to the battlements, Bran was overlooking the area where the King's Road meets with Wintertown. He has been here for a while now somewhat bored out of his mind. As much as he wanted to keep climbing up his home's many towers, the climbing wolf wanted to do a task for his family.

What you may ask? Why it's to spot any signs of the royal party on the horizon and warn his House of their arrival.

Sure his father already sent out Jory and an assembly of honor guard down the King's Road to help escort them to Winterfell. It was both out of courtesy for the royal guests but to also protect them from any Heartless skirmishes.

Bran had no doubt the legendary fighters of the Kingsguard traveling with said party will hold their own, yet they are completely inexperienced and ill-equipped against fighting the dark creatures. And before one argues with some of the Kingsguard and hells the King himself being veterans in fighting against the Unversed, the Heartless are a different breed of monsters.

After what seemed forever, Bran seemed to spot something coming along the King's Road, which brushed against the Wolf's Wood.

Rubbing his eyes a little, the climbing wolf looked back and saw the faint bright colors of red, gold, and yellow in the distance. The bright, sunny day helped out immensely for him to better see instead of an overcast day.

Knowing they were completely out of the norm here in the North, Bran realized what it was.

Reaching towards his side, Bran scooped up a small handful of white powder from the pouch tied to his hip. Rubbing his hands together and placing some more onto his footwear, the young climber spread the chalk substance before making his way down the small tower.

When Roxas helped him be better acquainted in his climbing habit, the Keyblader introduced him to the chalk dust. He stated that just a bit of moisture on your hands can be the difference between safety and endangerment when climbing. As a result, climbers like Bran use this chalk dust to dry sweat and other moisture on their hands, like if it was raining when one went climbing, thus increasing the friction and improving their grip on the holds.

Bran was amazed by this bit of information. He wondered where he got the substance in the first place, which Roxas said he got it from the Karstarks as they used it as part of their fertilizer.

The young climber did admit once having the chalk dust, his efforts in climbing up Winterfell's walls became much better than before. Hells, there had been a few wet mornings prior to Roxas' arrival where Bran almost slipped and fell due to the wet rocks. But now things seemed easier to traverse.

This didn't mean Bran couldn't stop being careful on his reach and footing.

Once making it back down the tower and almost reaching the courtyard down below, he heard his someone call out to him.

"Brandon!"

Looking over, he saw his mother standing beside Maester Luwin with Summer -his direwolf- sitting not far away.

Before she could get the chance to speak, the young climber went first. "The King is coming mother! And he's got hundreds of people with him!"

"How many times have I told you about climbing?!"

Planting his feet on one of the angled straw roofs, Bran slid his way down to hang off the edge and climbed down the wooden beams to reach the soft earth below. "But he's coming, mother."

Coming up to him, Catelyn wore a look of disappointment on her features. "I want you to promise me: no more climbing."

Looking down for the briefest of moments, Bran spoke in a soft voice. "I promise."

"...You know what?"

"What?"

"You always look at your feet when you lie."

Bran chuckled, admitting to the truth.

With a soft smile, Catelyn spoke. "Now run and tell your father the news. And please get cleaned up."

"I will."

As Bran and his direwolf ran off, Catelyn smiled before looking back at Luwin. "Gods, I don't know if I wanna scold or thank Roxas for his influence on them."

"He sure is quite the lad to make a good impact on them, my Lady."

"Indeed." Releasing a sigh, Catelyn moved along. "Now we best inform everyone on their arrival now."

The maester nodded as he went his separate way to do just that.

-Insert Game of Thrones: The King's Arrival-

It was sometime later when so many people assembled in the courtyard. All were cleaned up and presentable for the royal party's arrival. And despite one's status, everyone wore their best attires in order to make a good impression for the royal family.

Lord Eddard fell in line front and center, next to his wife, Lady Catelyn. And beside her were the rest of their children and Theon not far away, except for-

"...Where's Arya?" Came Catelyn's voice as she glanced around for her youngest daughter. "Sansa, where's your sister?"

The elder of Stark's daughters merely shrugged. As for Robb and Bran, they had noticed her absence, but figured the young She-wolf wasn't far.

Indeed, not a minute later, they saw a small figure wearing a helmet running up past them.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Lord Stark stopped the girl, removing the helmet on her head. "What're doing with that on?"

Robb and Theon grinned at the girl.

With a groan, Arya did as she was told and got in line next to her brother Brandon, whom she pushed *cough* bullied *cough* out to the side to fit in line.

Not a few moments later, the royal entourage began filing into the courtyard.

The first ones to canter past in were a pair of men wearing the gold-plated armor of the Kingsguard, riding an almost archetypal white destrier. The armor itself was heavily gilded, as was the sword at their sides, making some wonder as to its practical use in battle; though it was nevertheless finely crafted, with gold scales protecting the neck, shoulders, and thighs.

The rider after them was a young, blonde-haired lad of fifteen -going on sixteen- riding a brown stallion. From the lad's features, the ridiculously huge satin cloak of crimson he wore and absolutely, condescending smug look on his face, that would have to be Crown Prince Joffrey; a boy which many had heard of some, but none of it is good, and all of which were more reasons he distrusted the system of hereditary monarchy.

Evidently, Robb had unknowingly came to the same conclusion as his father as he watched the blond little brat staring at Sansa like a piece of meat. To the older male Starks' small surprise, they saw Sansa looking away from the prince's gaze after a few moments. And instead of being all bashful and giggling, the elder Stark girl merely nodded.

Behind the heir to the Iron Throne was a massive man layered in dark armor, atop a huge black charger. He had a massive sword poking out from over his shoulder, and wore a helmet fashioned in the likeness of a snarling hound. And the visor to the dog-themed helmet easily jiggled up and down to show how loose it was; which revealed the partially burnt face of Sandor Clegane.

Following these assortment of riders was a massive horse-driven carriage, with two red-robed men at the driver's seat. Filing behind them was a contingent of guards and servants, and then four more knights of the Kingsguard.

Ned had to recount the present members of the Kingsguard. He didn't know if one of them was hanging at the back of the caravan for some protection, was elsewhere nearby or was deliberately kept back in King's Landing.

Before he got the chance to inspect who was missing, the Lord Paramount of the North saw King Robert Baratheon himself making past the gate.

For the briefest of moments, Eddard had momentarily thought of his childhood friend and foster brother under Jon Arryn was still tall and well fit. The same man who rebelled against Aerys Targaryen 'The Mad King' after his many horrid actions towards the lives of many. Then after seizing the Iron Throne, Robert managed to unite the continent and fight against the Greyjoys on their own rebellion.

Yet all hopes and dreams are never meant to be.

What was once a tall, well fit and intimidating man was now quite the disappointing sight to behold. Robert was now an obese, unhealthy looking man who bore a flushed look on his face, a likely indication of copious wine consumption… and whoring. His short trimmed black beard was now long and frayed turning grey which hardly hid the double chin.

Once coming to a stop, two servants came beside his great horse, carrying a wooden step-ladder.

...Was Robert really so out of shape he couldn't even dismount his own horse? Evidently yes, given the fact he used it.

When the king strode forward, all present in the courtyard knelt before him, including the Stark family.

Coming to a stop before the Warden of the North, Robert moved his hand; ushering Ned to stand back up.

"Your Grace." Stark said quietly, and the two old friends alongside everyone else were quiet, waiting for the king to speak.

"...You got fat," King Robert uttered, seemingly in disapproval at Eddard.

As though thinking the same thing, Eddard made a short glance down to Robert's stomach. Looking back up, the Lord Paramount of the North gave a look which practically screamed "look who's talking".

Then, after another moment of silence, the king started to chortle at Ned, which caused the two of them to both start chuckling, before embracing.

Releasing his hold on Lord Eddard, Robert then turned to Lady Catelyn, smiled as he embraced her. He then patted little Rickon's head, the boy standing next to his mother.

Robert turned back to Ned. "Nine years. Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?"

"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace." Eddard smiled. "Winterfell is yours."

Coming out of the carriage first was a beautiful woman wearing rich red robes trimmed in gold, with a large pelt of fox fur slung about her back. Her long blonde hair was pulled back and braided along the sides. Despite the beauty she held, the cold, scornful look she gave practically everything was already annoying most people, but controlled their actions in not verbally speaking back at the Queen of Westeros, Cersei Lannister.

Behind her came two small children, also golden hair and green eyes. The younger two of the royal siblings, Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen. Myrcella, who was fourteen, was a developing beauty who would match her mothers in a good number of years. The princess had a curiosity in her eyes as she shifted her eyes around Winterfell which didn't hold any hint of scorn in her eyes like her mother. Tommen -who was twelve- seemed far more shy, and when the boy's gaze fell on those of others, he shied behind his sister.

"Where's the Imp?" Arya whispered to her older sister, who only hissed at her to shut up.

Robert turned his attention to the rest of the Stark children, pacing to Robb first. "What have we here? You must be Robb." He said, smiling as he shook the young man's hand. Sansa blushed as he called her 'a pretty one,' before looking hard at Arya for some reason. "And your name is?"

"Arya." The girl replied after some hesitation.

Ned could understand a little on why Robert lingered his gaze at his youngest daughter, for she truly held much resemblance to Lyanna.

The King's attention now on Brandon, Robert seemed amused. "Ooh. Show us your muscles." The climbing wolf stuck out his arms, flexing it as best he could. The king laughed in approval. "You'll be a soldier."

As the King briefly acquainted with Ned and his family, the Queen came forward then, approaching Lord Eddard, before offering her hand to him. Ned Stark kissed it before uttering "My Queen," his wife doing likewise.

"Good." Robert said as he stood not far away from them. "Now, Ned, I'd like to-"

"LOOK OUT BELOOOOOOOOOOOOW~!"

The sudden call greatly startled everyone present in the courtyard as they looked up and saw a black cloaked figure falling from the sky above. Many wondered how he was up there in the first place, not to mention who he was.

Yet for those in the know, they were more towards wondering about the former questions.

...Well...

-Earlier-

"So any Heartless?"

"We'd know by seeing them."

Jon and Roxas guffawed by the small joke, idly walking through the streets of Winter Town with Ghost between the two.

The King's caravan would be arriving at Winterfell soon so Roxas had taken it upon himself to make sure that there would be no surprise Heartless attacks.

That was something Roxas was all too familiar with and now Jon was starting to get used to it as well. He was unsure whether that was good or bad.

They continued their patrol through Winter Town with many of its denizens taking a moment to greet them both. By this point, Roxas's actions had started to spread at a more rapid pace with Robb and Jon's actions also being regaled since their return from Karhold.

It was a bit strange for Jon to receive such praise, feeling a great deal of awkwardness now with so many giving him looks of approval.

Robb was somewhat used to it, being the heir and all, but even he was bashful at times managing to hide his blush half the time.

Roxas though, shared more in Jon's reaction though he tried to appear grateful. He was partially used to it when he was first at Ironrath and the same feeling can be said now after these past weeks at Winterfell.

Shaking those thoughts aside, Jon glanced around to see they were getting further from the center of WinterTown and more towards the edges of the nearby Wolfswood. Ghost had been by their side, silent as ever with no instance of him picking up on something amiss.

"Hmmm, guess they're not feeling up to it today." Roxas remarked, seeing that they hadn't encountered any Heartless since they began their patrol.

"Wanna head back now?"

"Would be best-"

With a rapid succession of black cloud formations on the ground, a good two dozen Heartless appeared.

Roxas let out an aggravated groan, palming his face several times.

"Why'd I even say anything? They always do that! I really gotta learn better."

"Here we go."

Jon withdrew his sword, Roxas called forth his Keyblades and Ghost hunched down with his fangs bared. Behind them, they heard the commotion of people running into their homes for safety while nearby guards had begun converging to create a barrier of sorts to protect the common folk.

Soldiers, Winterhorns and Air Soldiers made up the small cluster facing them.

Jon let out a steadying breath, spinning his sword around and with Roxas and Ghost bolted forward.

Soldiers began running about while Air Soldiers elevated themselves.

The Winterhorns charged forward, lowering their horns as the trio neared the Heartless.

Ghost jumped forward, over the horn of the closest Heartless and latched his fangs down to its neck. The Winterhorn began thrashing about in a vain attempt of getting the Direwolf off its body.

Roxas charged at two Winterhorns. Throwing his Keyblades up in a diagonal slash, he batter the antlers out of the way quickly spinning his blades and horizontally cutting right through their bodies.

Jon meanwhile sprinted and then dropped, sliding through the snow and stabbing his sword upward through the Winterhorns head.

"Whoa, nice move Jon." Roxas praised, clasping his Keyblades together to fire off a Fira spell.

"Thanks." Jon said, surprised how easily he had pulled that off but refocused on the battle. "Roxas, we need to draw them away from the town and into the Wolfswood. The citizens will be safer."

Nodding, the Keyblader ran away with his two companions soon following.

The rest of the Heartless troupe had twitched about, zealously pursuing after the trio that were the greatest threat to them.

Running in between the trees, Roxas jumped up to a branch high above and used it as a launch pad as the wood bent back to fling him to several oncoming Heartless.

He speared through an Air Soldier, falling into a corkscrew that decimated the other Heartless that were within range.

Ghost had latched onto an Air Soldiers foot, struggling violently to bring it down giving Jon the opportunity to jump up high enough and cut through the Heartless.

"Good boy." Jon quickly scratched his Direwolf's ear, turning about to face a Soldier running at him.

The fight soon escalated as the trio wound up deeper in the Wolfswood. Sounds of battle could be heard if any dared to draw near its border. And soon enough, the sounds started to change with yells of cursing, growls and spells going off at every other second.

Before long, part of the Wolfswood exploded with a large Heartless rocketing into the air as Roxas and Jon hanged onto dear life. It's mighty wings soared through the air as an omen of death for all to see.

Down below, Ghost ran out of the forest in order to not lose track of his human friends.

"Roxas! I told you this was a terrible idea!" Jon yelled over the rushing wind.

"We're fine! Stop worrying! This isn't the first time it's happened to me!"

"I am far beyond worrying! This is the first time it's happening to me!"

"...In a good way?!"

" NO ROXAS! IN A BAD WAY! A HORRIBLY, BAD WAY!"

"Then why don't we just jump?!"

"ARE YOU INSANE!?"

Jon had to close his eyes for several moments, due to how they were quickly drying out from the rushing wind. Once opening back up, he saw his friend was no longer present.

It didn't take long for Jon to figure out what Roxas decided to do.

"YOU ARE FUCKING INSANE!"

Back down below, many scrambled away from where the falling figure might land. From the present height and speed, they all thought the being was going to splatter with blood and guts going everywhere.

Yet much to their surprise, the black clothed figure landed hard on the ground, leaving a small dent in the earth… and all in one piece.

"Made it." Voiced the greater Nobody. Standing back up, he saw many people having their swords drawn out and pointed right at him. "...Hiya."

"Who in blue blazes are you?!" Robert inquired.

The king and his entourage had tried to see any features the person had. But with that black hood up, everything seemed impossibly hard to make out.

Roxas hesitated a little as he looked around before spotting the Stark family and those native to the North. "Little help here would be most appreciative."

Wanting to defuse the situation, Ned was about to speak in Roxas' defense when-

"RWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

"...What the fuck was that?" One of the Kingsguard muttered out.

"Oh, yeah… that would be a Heartless."

"HOW COULD YOU LEAVE ME UP HERE!?

Looking back up, everyone present saw a large black feathered creature flying through the air. Many quickly went into a state of worry and fright upon seeing it.

Yet to the black hooded being, he sighed.

"I said jump."

"ROXAASSSSSS~"

"Oh… crap."

The Heartless began spinning in the air to get Jon off, who was hanging onto dear life by the Heartless' talon at this point.

"Is that Jon?" Robb and Arya asked out of worry.

"Yes. Yes it is." Roxas stated, crouching down before jumping forward to a nearby rampart and running right up the wall, showing no sign of falling at the slightest.

"What in the Seven hells…" Spoke another Kingsguard member.

Reaching a certain point, Oathkeeper appeared in Roxas' grasp before casting Aeroga. Jettisoning him off the tower's surface and flinging him into the air towards where his friend resided.

From the courtyard, Robert's battle hardened eyes spotted the weapon which magically appeared in the black coated being and widened his optics in utmost surprise. "Is that… was that a Keyblade!?"

Up in the air, Roxas reared his Oathkeeper back with his eyes aiming at the Heartless' head. Concentrating, Roxas imbued his Keyblade with an extra oomph of sorts with the Keyblade now glowing radiantly. With a mighty swing, the Keybearer struck well in making the airborne Heartless flail. Yet as this happened, Jon ended up letting go, plummeting towards the earth below.

Making a small landing on the Heartless, Roxas pushed his legs to help shoot him down towards his falling friend. With his unwieldy arm, the Nobody was able to snag Jon as he was starting to fall.

"Don't let go!"

"I'll try not to!"

As they began to descend downward, Jon's eyes widened and he desperately clung to Roxas in a tight hold nearly suffocating the blond.

"SEVEN HEEEEEEELLLLLSSSS." Jon yelled all the way down.

Seeing they were getting closer to the ground, Roxas managed to wrench Jon's grasp and place him upon his shoulders with him positioning his body in preparation to land.

Upon landing, Roxas gently let Jon go who quickly collapsed onto the ground, muttering and breathing out soft words in order to catch his breath. As he did, the bastard saw the Heartless which carried him in the sky get surrounded in a thick cloud of dark vapors before it evaporated. No doubt returning to whence it came in the dark realm Roxas told him about.

Checking his surroundings, the greater Nobody saw a good number of common folk standing not far away with Stark guards keeping them at bay.

Amongst them was a man bearing armor which bore some familiarity on his research. If memory serves, the armor was that of the Kingsguard. And the wearer was a tall handsome blond man who was standing right beside a blond dwarf wearing red themed clothing.

"Did… Did they just fall from the sky?" The blond dwarf inquired with surprise marrying his features. "And survive the landing?"

"I… I believe so, brother." Responded the Kingsguard member, who bore a similar reaction as the dwarf.

And not far away was a contingent of men riding up to the area. Some were familiar to Roxas while the rest was comprised of Kingsguard members and a fattish looking man riding on horseback.

"Oh, hey Lord Stark." Roxas said upon spotting a bemused Ned who was eyeing both him and his son who laid on the ground with his eyes glazed completely unresponsive to the licks Ghost kept giving to his face.

"Roxas." Ned said slowly. "Care to explain what just happened?"

Roxas opened and closed his mouth several times, pointing upwards until throwing his arm out in the direction of the Wolfswood he had just come from.

"Heartless." Roxas said plainly.

Ned gave him the dryest look he could muster with his son Robb and ward Theon who had come with them trying and failing to hold back the guffaws of laughter.

Rubbing his temples with his hand, Eddard glanced down at Jon who was at long last coming around.

"Jon?" Ned called out to him in concern.

Jon groaned with his arms raising and falling to the dirt several times until at long last he had come to his senses.

In a quick movement, the bastard of Winterfell got up onto his feet, turned to his friend and-

"Roxas!" Jon shook the blond Keyblader violently. "What in the Seven Hells is the matter with you?! THAT WAS A HORRIBLE IDEA!"

"IIIIIIIIII'm soooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrry." Roxas voiced. "Stooooooop shaaaaawawawaking meeeeeee~"

"SHUT UP!" Jon only shook him harder, with the boys blond locks beginning to get frazzled and more erratic then they already were.

"Come on, Jon, it wasn't as bad as it looked." Robb teased aloud with a comical glare being shot in his direction.

"You don't know." Jon pointed at his brother who chuckled heartily. Snow hung his head. "You don't know."

The moment Jon stopped shaking Roxas, the boy wobbled in place before falling to the ground.

"Ugh~"

All the while, the King of the Seven Kingdoms observed all of this with a look of utter bewilderment and amusement. This certainly wasn't the way he'd find himself being introduced to Winterfell.

However, several things had ran through Roberts' mind all the while. This boy in the black hood had a Keyblade. Something he had not seen in many, many years. The last person he had seen wield such a weapon was a friend near and dear to both him and Ned and one of three individuals he thought of daily.

Stepping forward, Robert watched as the boy who had landed with the blond helped him to his feet.

"Who the seven hells are you, boy?" Inquired the king. "How is it you are bequeathed with a Keyblade? C'mon, out with it."

Jon Snow turned to Robert, eyes wide before quickly dropping to his knee.

The hooded blond remained standing, gazing upon the King with his eyes squinted.

Robert all the while stared at the young lad before him with a gut feeling welling up inside of him. The more he regarded the boy, the more he kinda reminded him of a bygone time.

The last time he saw a Keyblade was his old friend Ventus… and him.

'So this was the king?' Roxas thought. 'He was a lot bigger in terms of size then I had assumed he'd be.'

Removing his hood that had gotten on him during his earlier flight, Roxas watched as Robert inhaled sharply.

"V-Ven?" Robert rasped out. "I-Is that you? H-How…"

He figured the king would say such a thing with how Ned told him of Robert knowing of the one he claimed to look nearly identical to from years past. Roxas didn't know this man in front of him.

Yet… Roxas saw a brief image of a younger man. One with a beaming grin, large war hammer resting upon his shoulder with another younger individual that held a familiar pair of grey eyes.

He suddenly had a strange feeling of nostalgia and… longing. A familiar feeling to Roxas as he had always thought of the days with Xion and Axel on the clocktower. This wasn't new to him.

Then why was he having this feeling with a man he had just met? Just like with Ned?

And then...

"...Man, you got fat."

Silence within the area was growing really thick. Thick enough one could practically cleave it with a sword. In which any wrong move could erupt badly for anyone around them now. Didn't really help with what just happened earlier with the recent Heartless attack.

Roxas' comment had caused many to hold their breath in absolute shock in him openly mocking the Westerosi king directly into his face. No pretty words or other ways around it; just directly at him.

Roberts stunned face turned to one of red hot, seething anger.

"Fat? FAT?! You dare call your king fat?!"

All the Keyblader could do was smirk at the Baratheon. "Please, you know you're no king of mine."

After these words escaped his mouth, Roxas rapidly blinked before realizing something just happened with no sense of control on his part.

'What just happened?' He thought before seeing the twitching expression sown on the King's face. He… had seen that face before.

The greater Nobody thought the man was going to explode in anger on his action. Taking the insult badly, which would result in him being in absolute trouble.

Yet much to his surprise, the shaking King Robert started making wasn't out of bottling anger-

"BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

-but out of laughter.

The entire audience was silent while their King continued to bellow with laughter, tears streaming down his eyes.

Then, to add to the madness of it all, a second person began chuckling along with Robert.

All heads turned to none other than Eddard Stark, of all people, having his own wry smile with a small laugh.

"Seven Hells, it's really like talking with Ven again." Robert said aloud, laughing gleefully. "You truly must be Ventus' son. You must be! GYAHAHAHA! Remember that time Ned?"

"All too well." Ned said with a soft smile.

Robert's entire body shook with joy, looking back down to the boy. "What's yer name, lad?"

"R-Roxas." The Nobody felt another strange familiarity to this introduction.

"Well, Roxas, that was quite the entrance you made." Robert said with a grand gesture. "I'm pretty sure most of my travelling companions had never seen the likes of your displays of death defying actions."

"Thanks… I guess?"

Robert grinned. "Humble like your father. God's, Ven could never take a proper compliment."

It was by this point more people like the Stark family to the Royal family arrived as they each wondered what went on after Roxas' brief appearance.

Standing not far from her children, Cersei gasped upon seeing the face of the lad who flipped Westeros over with his appearance at Harrenhal before effectively help turning the tide in Robert's Rebellion.

'It can't be!' The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms thought to herself, stumbling back in shock with her mind flashing back to a much more different time. 'How is he still so young?!'

It was as if she was transported back to Harrenhal, seeing a young man with the same face wielding a strange key-shaped weapon in a backhand grip as he faced a horde of literal monsters. He turned to her and held his hand out and without hesitating pulled her up and ran to safety before going back to engage the horrific beasts.

It was one of the most harrowing experiences of her entire life. She fondly remembers her spending time with him as the means of driving him away from many women who were vying after the Keybearer. He was kind, gentle and utmost brave.

He had spent a great deal of time in beginning with the Starks and the Martells but her being the young lioness that she was got her time alone with him. And by the Gods, had it not been for Rhaegar Targaryen, Cersei was certain that she would have wished for the Keybearer's hand in marriage. He was so unlike anyone else she had ever met before and when something new and unseen before comes her way that proved useful, Cersei would want it with her entire being.

"Mother?" Myrcella asked. "Are you alright?"

Composing herself, the Lannister queen merely smiled. "I'm alright, sweetie. I'm very much alright."

The crown princess blinked before turning back towards where her father was chatting with the strangely dressed individual who was very popular all of a sudden.

"Cersei!" Robert called out to his wife in a rare display of joy. "It's Ven's own boy. Can ya believe that maiden boy managed to find someone and bare a son? And here I thought Barristan was the only one being celebate."

If the boy was indeed Ventus' son, then saying the resemblance to be truly uncanny would be an understatement. He literally looked exactly like him. And, if possible, sound and act like him as well.

Now that she thought about it… Cersei was suddenly peeved that someone was able to lay with one of the most desirable individuals to ever live in living memory and sire the young man standing beside her husband. She had always hoped at least that in the back of her mind, at least one man that she wanted would be pure for her own taking. Jamie, of course, would always be hers and Rhaegar was meant to be.

But Ven? Now he had been taken apparently.

The Gods must hate her. So much that was meant to belong to her never came to be.

Off to the side, one Kingsguard stood with his brother and held a thoughtful frown.

"Jamie?"

"Hmmm? Oh, sorry Tyrion. Lost in thought is all."

"Looks to be more than that." His little brother noted. "You haven't taken your eyes off that boy since he landed in that spectacular fashion."

Jamie remained silent, unsure of what to say as he watched on with the King chatting it up with the blond teen and smiling all the while.

He saw that his sister held a look of disbelief and then disappointment and frustration before it settled into a calm expression. One of calculations and plans. And it was clear who the target of her plans were.

"Come on Ned." Robert's voice cut through his thoughts. "I want to go to your Crypts, pay my respects."

Cersei said nothing of her husband's intentions, eyes firmly set on the boy.

'Roxas, was it?' Jamie thought. He'd have to definitely take a moment to spar with him. If he was anything like his father, then he would indeed be just as skilled as him. Looks like their trip up to Winterfell and retrieving his Grace's Wolf wasn't going to be such a waste of time after all.

-Later, Crypts of Winterfell-

It took some time for the two old friends and foster brothers to make it towards the entrance of the crypts. With interacting with Roxas and him making proper introductions to both Robert's family and the kingsguard, a lot of time surely would have passed by now. And with the commotion Roxas was drawing in, Robert and Ned were able to slip away from the others so they may see Lyanna undisturbed and without argument.

Ned led the way down the stairs, with torchlight in hand, before reaching the spiraling stairwell.

"I trust you enjoyed your journey, your grace?"

Robert snorted. "Bogs and forests and fields, and scarcely a decent inn north of the Neck. I've never seen such a vast emptiness. Where were all your people?"

"Likely they were too shy to come out." Ned jested. "Kings are a rare sight in the North."

Robert snorted once more. "More likely they were hiding under the snow."

"Could be that or hiding from our… recent troubles."

"You mean like that odd feathered monstrocity?"

Ned nodded, in response.

The king placed his hand on the stone wall for support. Not just for him not easily losing his step on accident, but also for a weight placed back upon him. "Gods… it's like the Unversed all over again."

"I know and it's something I never thought would come back in my lifetime; these Heartless."

"Heartless? Is that what that bird is apart of?"

"Correct."

"Then how in the hells have you lot been surviving with those running about."

Ned smirked a little. "We've had our help."

It didn't take long for the king to put two and two together. "That boy… Ventus' son. He's been helping you all, hasn't he?"

"Indeed he has. Been quite a blessing to us all, Robert." Spoke the Warden. "In more ways than one."

"I'd imagine. If he's like his father, that Roxas would be a godsend."

Ned was glad Robert wasn't able to see his face upon the mention of Ventus and Roxas' relationship… or lack thereof.

The truth upon who… what Roxas truly was-was no doubt hard to swallow.

The Keyblader wasn't human at all, but in fact an entity known as a Nobody; a being that was never meant to exist. Only coming to existence when a person's will is strong enough after their heart is taken by the darkness and/or Heartless.

Their body -their shell- would become animated and take a life of its own. Having all the memories of who they once were with the inability to feel anything. No emotion of happiness, anger, sadness, joy… none of that. Only the memory of it all.

Ned argued that wasn't true at all as Roxas had been experiencing such things and expressing them quite clearly.

He wondered what Roxas had told him on the day of his revelation to him as being A Nobody. Being a part of an Organization that were also filled with Nobodies like him, with the apparent leader promising that should they all work together they would become whole once more.

Whatever that meant.

Upon reaching the designated floor where Ned's immediate family laid, candlelight was already present to help light the rest of their way.

Knowing of Robert's intention beforehand upon his arrival helped get this particular moment prepared.

Inserting the torch into a nearby holder, the king and lord paramount made their way through the floor.

"My sister is at the very end with father and Brandon."

Robert nodded as the two made their way towards the destination with their steps echoing throughout the cold corridor.

It didn't take long for Ned to finally ask something which lingered on his mind lately. "Tell me about Jon Arryn."

This topic has been on his mind for sometime now. He didn't get any information on how he passed, only of his sudden demise. Now was the opportune time to learn.

"One minute he was fine, the next… burned right through him, whatever it was. Never seen a man sicken so quickly." Robert then elaborated on the details. "We gave a tourney on my son's name day. If you'd seen Jon then, you would've sworn he'd outlive the both of us. A fortnight later, he was dead." Releasing a sigh, the king continued. "I loved that man."

"We both did." Ned replied.

"He never had to teach you much, but me? You remember me at sixteen?" Robert asked as Ned chuckled in remembrance. "All I wanted to do was crack skulls and fuck girls. He showed me what was what."

"Aye." Ned said as Robert looked at him.

"Don't look at me like that. It's not his fault I didn't listen."

They both chuckled with nostalgia filling their minds.

Yet some more pressing matters had to surface.

"What of his wife? My good-sister? Catelyn fears for Lysa. Does she bear well in her grief?"

Robert's expression turned bitter. "Honestly? Not well in the slightest. I think losing Jon has driven the woman mad, Ned. She had taken their boy, Robin, back to the Eyrie; against my wishes."

"Any reason why?"

The Baratheon shrugged. "Could be on her wanting Robin at his father's seat and learn how to start ruling the Vale with the lords and ladys over there. But I highly doubt that. In truth, I believe it was mostly out of fear."

"Fear?"

"I had hoped to foster him with Tywin Lannister back at Casterly Rock." Robert revealed. "Jon had no other family members and heirs, due to what happened in both Rebellions. Wanted Robin to be groomed into a finer man worthy of the Vale, not by a mad woman who would make things worse."

In Ned's opinion, he would sooner entrust a child to a pit viper than to Tywin anyday. After all, some wounds never truly heal as they are ripped open, bleeding again at the slightest word.

"Lysa has lost her husband." Ned said carefully. "Perhaps she feared losing her only child."

"A child of eight whose sickly and frail, due to said mother smothering him to death. I ought to have him trained properly like Jon trained us. Yet the damn woman is too damn protective of him." The Baratheon swore. "Tywin had never taken a ward before, Ned. Lysa ought to have been honored yet spat upon the idea. I tried to reason with her, but she left in the dead of night without so much as a word. Gods I never saw Cersei so offended and furious before; something the two of us agreed upon."

Ned would imagine it quite well.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, I can take him as a ward." Ned offered. "Lysa should consent to that. She and Catelyn were close as girls and she would be welcomed here as well. I would even do my part in training him in Jon's memory. Even asking Roxas in helping out in the task, if needed. I can never think of a finer honor than someone taught by a skilled warrior as Ventus' son."

Robert smiled on the sincere words his blood brother spoke. "A generous offer, but it's too late. Tywin already gave his consent as he would no doubt see Robin being fostered elsewhere would be too much of an insult."

Ned sighed. "No arguments there, Robert. But I have more concern for my nephew's welfare than I do for Lannister pride."

Robert let out a hearty laugh, with the sound reverberating throughout the crypt. "Ah, Ned, you are still too serious. I had planned to wait a few more days before telling you this, but I feel I should tell you now."

Ned ushered him to continue as they stopped, some distance away from their destination.

"You must be wondering why I came here of all places after so long."

The Warden of the North had his suspicions, but he didn't voice them.

"For the joy of my company." Jested the Stark. "Sharing in mourning of our foster father together instead of separated."

"In part. But in all seriousness I need you, Ned, down in King's Landing, not up here where your no damn use to anybody."

Now the suspicion lingering in Ned's mind was now being confirmed.

"Lord Eddard Stark, I would name you the Hand of the King."

Ned digested the words and quickly kneeled. "I'm not worthy of the honor."

The Hand of the King, or the King's Hand, is the most powerful appointed position on the continent; second only to the King himself in authority and responsibility. Being the King's closest advisor, appointed and authorized to make decisions on behalf of the King's name.

During the reign of strong and able kings, the Hand is the leading man for coordinating and carrying out the king's plans. Yet during the reign of weak or ineffectual ones, the Hand is often the real power behind the Iron Throne; primarily responsible for holding the realms together.

In all honesty, it was a great honor and station to carry.

In the entirety of the Stark's history, there was only one person who was the King's Hand; Ned's ancestor: Cregan Stark.

Cregan wasn't well known throughout the kingdoms. That changed upon the time of the Dance of Dragons. Upon the death of Viserys Targaryen, first of his name, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon flew to Winterfell on his dragon Vermax to gain support of the Starks and the North for his mother, Rhaenyra Targaryen's claim to the Iron Throne. After much discussion and haggling, an alliance was forged called the Pact of Ice and Fire; stating that a Targaryen princess, the future firstborn daughter of Jacerys would marry Cregan's son Rickon.

The pact between the two Houses was never settled back then, but fate has a way to make it possible… years later. But that's for another time.

With this set, the Stark Lord pledged his support to the Black faction in the Dance of Dragons. It took time for Cregan to assemble the Northern army to the war; comprised of men who were childless, homeless, unwed and younger sons of various families. And after some time getting to King's Landing, the Targaryen Civil War had reached its end.

Through circumstances, the eventual winner of it all were the Blacks with Aegon Targaryen, third of his name, being crowned King of Westeros. Much had been paid for this extremely bitter victory which left King Aegon emotionally dead and never truly happy ever again.

Despite coming in too late to truly support the Blacks, Cregan had come in and after getting permission from the freshly crowned king, the Northern Warden held court at King's Landing for six days which would later be known as the Hour of the Wolf. King Aegon was moved and helped upon by Cregan and decided to name him Hand of the King. The Northerner had done his duty and after presiding over the trials and executions and organizing everything into place; Cregan resided his honorary position… after just one day before returning home.

Now Eddard Stark has been given the opportunity to serve the continent just like his ancestor did and last much longer by being Robert's new Hand.

"I'm trying to get you to run my kingdom while I eat, drink and whore my way to an early grave." Said the king before patting his shoulder. "Damn it, Ned. Stand up."

Ned complied as his old friend continued.

"Both you and Ventus helped me win the Iron Throne and now help me keep the damn thing. We were meant to rule together. Hells, I would've had Ventus stand alongside us if he hadn't left. And if your sister had lived, we would have been bound by blood. Well… it's not too late. I have a son, you have a daughter. We'll join our Houses."

Ned never had a chance to respond to what Robert spoke as the king walked through the floor towards his destination. Ned wasn't that far behind as their steps echoed throughout the cold corridor.

The stonemason years prior had known Lord Rickard well. He sat with quiet dignity, stone fingers tight around the iron sword in his lap. And in life, all swords had failed him.

Beside him was Brandon, the true heir and eldest of Rickard's children. The Wild Wolf was born to rule. Yet his time was cut short. Strangled by the order of Mad King Aerys Targaryen only a few days before he was to originally marry Catelyn Tully of Riverrun.

And Lyanna…

She was a true Northern beauty. Well loved by her family and had that type of fire inside of her which was only noticeable once a generation. The only daughter of Rickard was supposed to be Robert's bride-to-be before she was kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen; which started the whole rebellion.

Robert's blue eyes looked at Lyanna's grave with a sad, loving gaze. Reaching into his person, the king pulled out an eagle's feather and placed it onto the statue's hand.

In Robert's mind, he had hoped Lyanna would greet him warmly. Yet in reality, her frozen gaze matched that of the crypt: cold. After all, the late She-wolf still never forgave her former betrothed on his actions when she was alive.

"Did you have to bury her in a place like this? She should be on a hill somewhere, under a fruit tree, with the sun and the clouds above her and the rain to wash her clean."

"She was my sister. This is where she belongs." Was Ned's response. "She wanted to come back home."

"Promise me, Ned… Promise me…"

No matter how long it's been, those words… that part of his life still reverberated within his mind, body and soul with utmost clarity. And so far, Ned has kept his promises towards her.

"She belonged with me." Robert said as he touched her stone carving. "I vowed to kill Rhaegar for what he did to her."

"You did." Ned reminded him.

"Only once." Was the bitter remark.

Robert, Ned and Ventus had come together at the Trident with the Rebellion behind them as they soon clashed with the Targaryen loyalists and the largest battalion of Unversed they'd ever seen. The three of them were in their respectable armors and signature weapons as they faced their foes.

The Baratheon swung his mighty warhammer at each and every foe he came across as he sought out his desired target. And once gazing upon Rhaegar Targaryen in his black armor with his family sigil on his breastplate wrought with rubies, everything around Robert was drowned out.

The waters around them were running red in blood as they circled each other before clashing, again and again. It lasted for an eternity for the Baratheon until at last a crushing blow from his warhammer caved in the jeweled dragon and the chest beneath it.

When Ned and Ventus came over to the scene, Robert stood over Rhaegar's dying body. And when the adrenaline wore off, the Baratheon realized the Battle of the Trident was all but over.

"In my dreams I kill him every night." Admitted the king. "A thousand deaths will still be less than what he deserves."

"It's done, your grace. The Targaryens are gone." Ned said.

The sorrow behind Robert's gaze was soon replaced with cold fury. "Not all of them."

-Across the Narrow Sea-

Birds were chirping with faint sounds of waves heard amongst the warm breeze. A fragrant of smells wafted in the air as it masked some of the foul things happening in the city nearby. Even the nearby garden added further onto the fact that despite how grand and luxurious it is, one particular young woman could see past it all due to certain circumstances.

Said person was looking onward through one of several patios of the residence she and her brother had been living in for the better part of a year now. And the look she bore was that of yearning.

"Daenerys!"

The person snapped out of her yearning thoughts, looking back to see her brother coming into the room she was currently in.

Stepping in was a handsome man of twenty-one summers with silvery-blonde hair with amethyst eyes to show off his Valyrian heritage. Currently wearing a simple black tunic with faint depictions of embrowdery with dragons on the clothes with a three-headed dragon pin attached to the side. And stepping ever closer to her, his leather boots faintly echoed through the chamber and past the giant bath nearby.

"Daenerys, there you are."

Daenerys is a young woman of seventeen summers who truly blossomed into a beautiful woman in these past years. Her long silvery-blonde hair shined a little against the sun above with her amethyst eyes reflecting as well on what light peeked into the room. Her flawless, creamy white skin showed hardly any sign of blemishes to truly show off how well her Valyrian bloodline treated her.

Currently, Daenerys -sometimes called Dany for short- was wearing a simple pinkish gown with ropes holding it all together.

"Hello, Viserys." She muttered out before gazing at what was in his arms. "What is that?"

Coming up to his little sister, the now identified Viserys held up a purple gown with several pieces of jewelry placed on top of the garment.

"A gift from Illyrio." He answered. "Go on, touch it."

The gown's cloth was so smooth, it seemed to run through her fingers like water. She could not remember wearing anything so soft. A part of her enjoyed the feeling. Another was admittedly frightened.

"Is it really mine?"

"Indeed, sister. The color will bring out your eyes. Later today, you will look like a princess."

A princess... she had forgotten what that was like. Or perhaps she had never truly experienced such a feeling.

"Isn't he a gracious host?"

Dany ignored that, only questioning something of her own. "Why does he give us so much?"

"Illyrio is no fool. The magister knows that I will not forget my friends when I come to retake the Iron Throne from the Usurper."

Magister Illyrio was a dealer in spices, gemstones, dragonbone, and other less savory... things *cough* slaves *cough*. It was said that he'd never had a friend he wouldn't cheerfully sell for the right price, but she knew better than to fully question her brother when he wove his web of far fetched dreams. Especially since arriving at Illyrio's manse a year ago.

Handing off the gown and set of jewelry to a nearby slave, Viserys took note of something about his sister. "You still slouch. It's unbecoming of you. At least let them see you now have a woman's body."

As he straightened her out, Viserys untied what few ropes upheld her dress. Once it happened, the garment fell off and pooled onto the stony floor to reveal her naked glory.

To many, Dany's Valyrian heritage made things more prominent in her form as she was well defined for her age.

Her breasts were of medium size for her age with some sign of sag to it, but nothing too bad for them. Her childbearing hips were good along with her legs.. And with her fully exposed, her unblemished and flawless pale skin helped finish off the rest of her beauty.

Many men and most women, especially over here in Essos, would look her way and admire her present form. Both in good ways… and lustful ways.

When Viserys hand went to come up to her breast, Dany grasped his hand and tightened her grip.

"You shouldn't be doing that, brother." Dany said with a narrowed glance.

Her elder brother yanked his hand back with a small snarl on his face. "That girl has been becoming a bad influence onto you, sister."

'An influence pulling away from yours.' She thought. 'One I would say is great for me.'

Gritting his teeth a little, Viserys quickly composed himself. "I need you to be perfect today. We have an important guest coming later."

Blinking, Dany bore a curious look. "Who is it this time?"

Illyio often had guests coming over, something the two siblings had grown used to since living under his house. Said guests were often business associates, friends and the like. And both the Targaryen siblings were often asked to attend the meals in order to help build relations.

Viserys said it was good practice for preparation in taking back their ancestral Throne. But as of late from her friend, it was just showing off of having the remaining Westerosi royals under his care.

The smile on her brother's face unsettled her more than usual.

"Khal Drogo, your husband."

And just like that, her heart dropped, causing her to stumble back a little. "M-My wh-what?"

"Your husband."

"...You know she's not going to like it."

"I don't care what that lowborn girl thinks, despite what exactly she is Daenerys." Making his way out of the room, Viserys looked back. "When they write the history of my reign, sweet sister, they will say that it began today."

When he was gone, Dany started to shake with tears starting to form in her eyes. Closing them, she started wiping them away and decided to go into the steaming waters of the bath beside her.

She wanted to hide away the tears as she wanted to be strong. She no longer wanted to be weak, but it was hard after so long.

The moment she got into the water, a voice entered the chamber. "Hey, Dany, I'm back."

Dany froze a little and dunked her head a little into the water to help hide away any signs of her tears. When rising back up, she soon came face to face with her friend, her best friend in the entire world.

"Sorry it took so long, Dany." Her friend said, as she smiled. "Ran into something and needed to get it for you."

Looking away, Dany tried to compose herself and tried to be happy. "You didn't have to."

"Oh~ but I did, especially…" Her friend stopped talking when she saw the Targaryen's action. "Is there something wrong?"

"N-Nothing."

"...Something's clearly wrong." Moving over, she soon saw the red encircling the princess' amethyst eyes to show she was crying. "What did your brother do this time? Did he hit you or belittle you-"

Dany looked away, not wanting to look into the pair of deep blue eyes carrying much worry in the gaze.

"Dany, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on."

Swallowing a lump in her throat, the Targaryen spoke. "Viserys…"

"Viserys did what?"

"...Viserys told me… I'm to be married to a Dothraki named Khal Drogo."

Dany didn't need to look over to see her best friend trembling in rage on what she just heard.

"Oh that stupid no good imbred lizard! I'm gonna kick his butt so hard he would be flying to the moon and back!" Footsteps echoed through the chamber as she stomped all over, fuming. "No doubt that cheesemonger was behind this as well, keeping the arrangement secret from us."

"Us?"

"You know as much as I do, everything concerning you happens to me as well. They can do jack squat in harming me, but you on the other hand…"

"Like always, I thank you in your concerns for me."

"Well what are friends for." Coming back towards the bath, her friend came back with a bitter smile with a hand behind her back.

There was a bit of an awkward silence between the two girls, Dany wanting to go up to her when her friend let out a sigh of annoyance before a small smile spread on her lips.

"Well… I hope this could lighten your spirits." She reached behind her.

"What is it?"

Deep blue eyes held a mischievous glint to them as the owner whipped out an object which quickly drew in the Targaryen's attention.

It was a circlet crown, made of the softest silver. Delicate and beautifully twisted and crusted with tiny pearls, diamonds and amethysts. She recognized it immediately even after so many years.

"M-Mother's crown!" Dany looked up to show her eyes could possibly pop out with how surprised she was. "H-How-"

"It was the reason why I was late coming back today. I stumbled across a brothel while on patrol and saw it on a bidding pile. Through circumstances, I was able to get it back for ya. Helped a lot with me remembering how well you described it in our past chats."

She held it out for Daenarys with the silver haired girl trembling.

Dany shakily took the crown into her hands as she gazed at every detail of the piece of royal jewelry. She played with it for years and kept it safe at that time. After all, it was the only thing she and Viserys had left of their mother, Queen Rhaella Targaryen.

"W-We sold it." Were her words, so soft that her friend almost misheard them. "We were starving and had nothing. We were on the streets and…" Her eyes were filling up with tears once more. "Viserys avoided it as much as he could, until we could barely stand. Then… he cheated us. He knew how desperate we were and brought it cheaply. The coin didn't last long."

"Now it's back in your hands, Dany-"

The Targaryen couldn't have reached out and hugged her best friend fast enough. And her arms couldn't hold on any tighter with the biggest smile Dany could ever muster.

"Thank you, Xion. Thank you."

No. XIV could only smile as she patted her friend's back. "You're welcome, Dany."

-End Chapter-

AN:

Now we are at the official start of show canon with some obvious changes.

First if you guys actually paid attention that Sansa is a year older than show canon being 14 instead of 13-ish and same with Arya as they are two years apart. In the show, Sansa had finally bled in season 2 which got things to kick off on her finally being able to be forcefully wed to someone. But having this brought in much sooner, some factors will come into play earlier with different effects.

Second, the Deep Dive at the beginning will have a significant role in the story. And before you all ask… the results of this encounter won't be present until much later on in the story. I won't spoil when, but it'll be worth it.

Now the reason for the delay on updates are simple: work being a complete time eater and my social life had come to some turbulence. For instance, I learned my grandmother is going to pass away in 6-9 months due to her having stage 4 cancer. Me and my family already accepted it and so does she, but it's still a tough pill to swallow.

Free Man Writer: Work and all that good life that always interferes with writing. Or bad… really fucking bad. It happens to the best of us. But anyway, yeah, that Deep Dive from the start of the chapter is only a dash of the madness to come. We are dealing with KH characters and concepts in the world of Game Of Thrones so saying crazy shit is coming is putting it mildly. The two of us are gonna try our damndest to get as much as we can out there with this story and our other stories.

Anyways, be sure to review this story guys! Would like the criticisms. Please and thank you!

R