A Tale of Stolen Blades and Stolen Hearts

Chapter 1: From One Bastard to Another

Horse, trotting along the countryside were heard, along those horses were nearly countless soldiers, all making their way towards one Goal, Winterfell. Along that cast of horses was a young boy, ranging for the years of 13. He had dirty blonde hair, much like his father, but he was not with his father at the moment, he was trotting along next to a Knight in Golden Armor following a carriage that was being taken to Winterfell, and the man leading it was none other than Robert Baratheon himself, the Lord of Seven and High King of Westeros.

"Why must we come to the Cold, Ser Jamie?" (Y/n) asks.

"Because someone foolish enough is going to ask another foolish man to be the hand of the King."

"Do you not want it?" (Y/n) asks Jamie.

"No, Days too long, their lives too short..." he says, (Y/n) puts his eyes forward to the back of the head of another boy, blonde, his Cousin Joffery. He grits hud teeth for a moment but pushes his anger down as they rear to the gates of Winterfell. Many trot in, mostly behind Robert. They enter to see the citizens of Winterfell awaiting, and most importantly was the Stark Family.

Their Leader, Eddard, his Stern but loving Wife Caitlyn, their oldest Son, Robb, Oldest Daughter and Beauty Sansa, a Punkish Younger Daughter, who eyes (Y/n). He sees Sansa and Joffery exchange quick glances, (Y/n) turns and gives a tiny bow of courtesy. Hidden within the crowd behind them, was the Bastard, Jon Snow. Robert dismounts off his horse and approaches Ned, they all have bowed at the presence of the King of All, Ned Rose to face Robert.

"Your Grace." He says.

"..You've got fat." Robert replies, Ned looks down at roberts massive gut with a less than surprised face, both men laugh and hug, Robert turns his attention to Caitlyn.

"Cat!" He says with such joy.

"Your Grace."

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

"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is yours." Ned replies; after the defeated of the Mad King, Robert took the Iron Throne to announce himself king of the Seven, and in cordial sense, Married the Lanniester family. From the Carriage, a gorgeous woman stepped from it, a beautiful figure and a lions mane of golden hair, with her son and daughter, Cersei Lanniester, wife to the King.

"Where's the Imp?" Arya asks.

"Will you shut up?" Sansa said to her tomboy sister. Robert picks up on this and then goes though the Stark Family.

"Who have we here? You must be Robb." Robert said to the Heir, he turns his attention then to Sansa with a grin. "My, you're a pretty one." He said to her, and then to her sister. "Your name is?" He asks.

"Arya." She Said. Robert nods in approval and then to Bran. "Ooh. Show us your muscles. You'll be a soldier!" He said, Cercei finally approaches and Ned, as custom, kisses her hand.

"My queen." Ned says, and his Wife follows to also give her respects.

"Take me to your crypt. I want to pay my respects." Robert orders Ned. Cersei looks at her husband, dejected.

"We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait." She asks, but Robert isn't your loving and doting husband, he ignores his wife's request and simply leaves for the crypt, leaving Cersei there, she walks towards her brother.

"Where is our brother?" She asks, (Y/n) trots over.

"If I had to guess, and local brothel.." (Y/n) admits, embarrassed, cersei purses her lips and looks less than happy to hear that.