Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Even in summer, Winterfell was cold. The Maesters said that Harry would always feel the chill more than others; he wasn’t born in the dead of winter like his siblings. Maesters be damned though, he was fucking cold. He was supposed to be in the courtyard, helping his little brother, Bran, with his archery. Harry was the son of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn Stark, His older Brother was Robb Stark, and he had several younger siblings: Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon. He has a Bastard brother named Jon Snow; he didn’t hold any resentment towards his brother.
He honestly didn’t want to be out of the castle today but the son of a Lord has many expectations. He couldn’t be late to anything important; he had to be polite every second of the day. It was tiring being a Stark.
The way to the court yard was engraved into his memory from walking the path for 17 years, He was much better with a bow and arrow than he was with a sword. This is why he was supposed to be helping Bran, the boy needed to improve his archery skills greatly and whom better to teach him than his own brother?
Harry made his way outside just was a cold wind blew, he cursed the Maesters for being right. He trudged his way through the mud that never seemed to dry, he was more than a half hour late and he knew that his father would lecture him on the lessons of punctuality later but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He could hear the loud obnoxious voice of Theon Greyjoy, Harry rolled his eyes. Theon was probably boasting of the Iron Islands again, Even though he hadn’t been there in nearly ten or eleven years.
Harry stepped into the even muddier court yard and waved to Robb and Jon who were giving Bran instruction. “Your footing is wrong” Harry told Bran as he approached them, when he got in touching distance he manually positioned Bran. When he was done he stepped back with his brothers “Where were you?” that was Jon, ever the serious one of the Stark even though he wasn’t officially a Stark, oh the technicalities. “None of your business”, in truth Harry was chatting up one of the younger cooks and lost time. Harry looked up to the balcony where his mother and father were currently watching them. With a smile he waved at them, his mother smiled and gave him a nod but his father frowned at him. Yep, this lecture was going to be a nice long one.
Harry turned back just in time to see Bran launch his arrow, Harry hoped that it would have hit the target. Sadly it did not; instead it hit the very top of the hay bale. Robb and Theon laughed and made jokes while Jon simply smiled. “Quiet. How many of you were marksmen at the age of 10, Bran you just keep practicing.” His father’s voice rang out; they all looked up to see Ned looking down at them, he looked at each of them but his gaze was on Harry for the longest time. “Harry, nice of you to join us” Harry’s ears burned with embarrassment, his father often pointed out his tardiness in hopes that Harry would learn from the embarrassment he went through, he never did.
Suddenly, an arrow went straight to the center, Harry knew immediately who shot that “Run, Arya!” he told her with a smile as Bran took off after his older sister while everyone laughed at the two.
The sun shined high across the narrow sea and unlike in the north of Westeros, it was not cold, or even cool- it was scorching. One would think in 16 years that Zayn would be accustomed to such heat, but it remained a living hell for him. After the murder of his father, Rhaegar Targaryen, his mother sent him across the sea with the ever-present pressure of being the last of his bloodline.
Zayn later heard of his family’s death: his mother and siblings murdered in their sleep, they never had a chance. He cried himself to sleep for weeks after hearing the news; he was truly alone, no matter how many people took him in. He would never hear his mother’s voice as she sang to him; never hear the laughter of his younger siblings. When he reached the age of twelve he left the protection of his mother’s distant cousin and sat off to find a way to get back to Westros and take back the Iron Throne.
He knew it would take time and resources, which he didn’t have right now but would soon. He was currently in a small village. The huts were made of dried mud that did nothing to help with the heat; he stayed in worse accommodations than these huts, much worse.
Zayn wiped the sweat off his forehead, the heat was particularly worse today than normally and no method of cooling off was helping. He smiled at the people in the street and for the most part they smiled back. Others didn’t smile, in fact they glared at him. They had obviously heard about the Black Dragon of Westeros, that’s the name that people had given him. Unlike the rest of his family he had black hair instead of the platinum white hair and yet much like the rest of his family his eyes were violet and vibrant.
“M’Lord” the voice was behind him, he stopped and turned around. The voice was one he did not recognize so it wasn’t the family he was staying with. The voice belonged to a boy slightly younger than him, possible 16. The boy stopped in front of him and smiled “Forgive me m’lord, but I’ve a message for you from my master.” The boy spoke like a peasant in the old country.
“Tell me this message” he spoke kindly.
“My Master would like to meet with you.” The boy spoke not looking Zayn in his eyes. “And who is your Master?” Zayn asked the boy, gripping his chin gently making him look Zayn in the eye.
“Magister Elc, over seer of not only this village, but the two around it.”
Zayn was surprised at this, he hadn’t expected the Magister to associate with him. A cast out dragon. Unable to offer anything that would be of value other than his few words of wisdom. “Take me to him” Zayn commanded, the servant nodded and turned around leading Zayn to the elegant building that cast a shadow over them all.
The halls of Kings Landing were dreary and boring, or at least to Niall they were. His golden Lannister hair shining as he walked in front of the windows.
Ser Niall Lannister, from the house of Lannister, first of his name and knight of the Andals. He hated his title, it was long and he hated it. People always referred to him as Ser, he hated that bastard Robert for naming him a knight. His dear brother-in-law named him as such because he stopped a drunken fool from stabbing an equally drunken king years ago.
Sometimes he wishes he let the drunken fool at least nick the king a bit.
Servants bowed as he walked past them and he rolled his eyes. If he wasn’t a knight they would still bow as he was a Lannister. He nodded his head slightly and smiled, he was the nice Lannister, the kind and compassionate one.
He couldn’t wait to get to his own bed chambers, he had been following the king around per usual listening to him send profanities towards any women that had two legs and a presentable face. It didn’t bother him as much as it did his brother Jamie, who was let’s just say very devoted to their sister queen.
He saw the way Jamie’s hand clutched around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white. He saw the murderous look in his eyes and often wondered when his dear brother and head of the kingsguard would snap and kill this king. He may have been just a babe when kings landing was sacked and the mad king killed. He grew up with the servants telling stories of his father taking the capitol and his brother sticking his sword in the back of the man he swore to protect.
They would look at him and ask out loud and to themselves if their little lord would grow up to be like his brother; a traitor and an oath breaker. And Niall would look up at them with wide and innocent eyes wondering why they were calling his big brother a traitor. Of course now Niall knew and grew angry every time he thought of it, not because they spoke ill of his brother but because they would dare compare him to Jamie.
Entering his bed chamber he took off his cloak and tossed it aside. He hated the heavy armor that a knight had to wear, so he took it off whenever he had the chance and threw on his common clothing. A red shirt with golden trendles and a lion over his right breast and well-tailored trouser pants.
He threw on said clothing and tossed himself onto his bed, laying there with his eyes shut. Enjoying the small silence that his room offered him, it was a welcomed sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world. The silence didn’t last long, mere minutes in fact, when a knock sounded at his door. When he didn’t answer the knocking persisted.
“Fucking Hell, stop that and come in” he said not opening his eyes. “Is that anyway to talk to your queen?” his sister’s voice rang as the door opened and footsteps were heard entering his room. He laughed “Maybe not the queen, but I can talk to my sister any fucking way I want” he said with a smile.
The bed dipped and he groaned. He sat up and opened his eye, his sister was smiling. It was a very rare site in public, but when Niall and she were alone they were always laughing and smiling. “Robert says you left in a hurry and wanted me to talk to you about leaving before your duties were over”
Niall raised his eyebrow “He is just upset because I left him at the mercy of Lancel and Jamie” He shot back. He would rather spend the with the king than with their useless cousin. “I can’t blame you brother.” To anyone else it would have looked like Cersei was joking but Niall saw the sadness in her eyes. He knew that she hated Robert, but it hadn’t always been that way. Niall could remember being by his sisters side on her wedding day, the look of joy and apprehension on her face, her golden gown that made her seem like a goddess that came from the heavens.
Something happened to his beloved sister that night for the next morning Cersei was more distant and cold. That’s the first time Niall felt the twinge of resentment towards the new king.
They talked for an hour or so about everything and nothing. They did not mention Niall’s mother nor Cersei’s, who while not happy that her father took another bride years after the death of her mother, was happy when Niall was born. She say that there was an instant connection between the half siblings when she first saw the newborn child. Of course that’s not the only reason his mother was a touchy subject, she had died four years after Niall was born due to an unknown affliction.
"I must be going dear brother, it is almost supper time and the Queen must be there.” She said rising from the bed. She was almost out the door when she turned around smirking at him, “Oh and brother I expect to see you there and with a smile on your face.” Niall flew back on his bed groaning as his sister laughs walking out.
Storms End was considered a cold place, the wind always blew and it was nearly always raining. People never wanted to come to the intimidating castle much less stay there, but Liam fucking loved it. He found an odd comfort in the cold halls, in the storm clouds that graced the sky nearly every day.
His brothers thought he was insane when he volunteered to stay and fill in as Lord Regeant for his older brother Renley so that he may accompany their King Brother, Robert, to his home at King’s Landing.
Currently Liam was leaning out the open window in what he considered to be his mini throne room, something that Robert found amusing. Lightning danced in the sky and Liam smiled largely. Growing up in Storms End gave Liam a certain affection for the hard rains that plagued this part of Westeros.
He was so caught up in watching the storm in-front of him he didn’t hear anyone enter the room. Someone cleared their throat behind him and he whirled around to see an old Maester and behind him was two people; a young maiden and a slightly older man.
They both had burnet hair. The man hair was darker in color than the beautiful doe-eye maiden next to him. The only real difference between the two besides their gender was their eye color; The Women had soft brown eye and he had eyes bluer than the water below the castle.
"May I present the Lady Margaery and Lord Louis of house Tyrell.” They bowed and curtsied respectively and Liam did the same.
He walked past the Maester and took Margaery’s hand “it is a pleasure to see you again” he said looking at her and her brother. Their brother Loras came to live with them a few years back when he was just a squire, he trained under his brother’s wing. He and Margaery were about the same age. Louis was just barely older, coming out on top as the oldest of the Tyrell siblings.
The siblings smiled at him “The pleasure is all ours Lord Liam” Louis said his title teasingly. Liam rolled his eyes and glanced back at Margaery, who was looking at their hands “My apologizes my lady” he withdrew his hands from hers and steps back/
“What brings you to Storms End?” he asked leading them to the table that sat in front of the oversized chair. He did not sit in it like he normally would, that chair was for official lord business (at least for Liam it was) and this did not feel like official lord business.
Louis spoke as they sat down “Margaery here felt the need to journey out of Highgarden, but grandmother refused saying it was unsafe for a young maiden.” He stopped to chuckle, Liam joined him. They both knew that Louis’ sister was far from helpless. “But I managed to convince our dearest grandmother that Storms End would be the perfect place for me to visit as our brother was fostered here” she said sweetly and politely.
“Well, I am honored that Lady Olenna would allow you to come here under my protection.” Honestly, their Grandmother probably assumed that Renley was still here and acting Lord of the castle. “She thinks highly of you, my Lord. She is fond of you, more so than the others,” that surprised him. He thought that out of the four Baratheon’s, Renley or Robert would be the one she favors, not him.
“Don’t look so surprised Liam” Louis said with impolite eye roll “She likes you because you’re not a brute like Stannis, full of yourself like Renley, nor are you a drunk like our dear King.” Out of all her children and Grandchildren only Louis inherited her blunt honesty and unashamed personality.
His sister slapped his arm and glared at him harshly. “Louis! You are in the presence of the Kings brother and yet, you slander him!” she scolded her older brother, sending Liam an apologetic look. He simply shook his head as he did not mind, he didn’t have as big of a temper as Robert and his ego was nowhere as big as Renley’s. “Your brother is fine, Margaery.” He said dropping all formalities, seeing as they were alone, he did not feel the need to use them and urged them to follow his lead.
“It was still inappropriate Liam” she chided.
Any other human would have been blushing in shame, but Louis wasn’t like any other human. He was grinning madly and not looking a bit sorry for what he said.