Game of Thrones: The Storm

S1E1 - Winter Is Coming

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This story, like most in this Game of Thrones, is a tragedy. Following the story of me, Laramie Storm. A bastard. That in and of itself is a bad deal of cards in this world... among other things. 

What's the reason for my story being a tragedy though, you might ask?

Because my story doesn't have to end the way it does... but it will anyways. 

My story will not change, even though I wish it would. It is a constant cycle of betrayal, fighting, and revelation. Like a wheel.  

In the end... that wheel has to reach the end of its road. 

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"JON!" You screamed into the fleeing crowd of small folk, Lannister soldiers, and Unsullied alike. Fire rained down upon all of them as you shielded your face from the heat. 

Dust and ash filled the air and made it impossible to see as blood curdling screams and cries echoed into the streets of King's Landing... or rather, what was once the streets of King's Landing. 

You coughed from lack of oxygen as Drogon's screech pierced your ear drums. Beginning to lose hope in your search, your swords grew heavy in your arms as you continued to look around frantically.  

That's when you saw him. His golden hair and silver armor broke through the clouds of ash and flame. It was Tommen. He was defending an older man from one of the Unsullied as they ravaged through the city. His sword clashed with the spear of his attacker as they began fighting. 

"Tommen!" You called out to him as Daenerys circled around. You pushed through the crowd and cut down any Lannister or Unsullied that got in your way, but before you could reach your half-brother, the dragon fire had consumed him. 

In an instant you had lost him, your little brother. Frozen in fear you stared at his motionless burnt body. 

"Burn them all!" 

The words echoed through your mind as more and more people around you lay in a pile of ashes and bone. Storm clouds gathered in the distance with crackling lightning accompanying it, but it was no use. The damage was done; the person you entrusted to lead Westeros into a better future turned into her father... and now you would have to turn into yours. 

{} Present Day {} 

The chill of the North seeped through your leathers, more persistent than any blade you'd ever trained against. You kept your back straight as your horse paced beside your father's destrier, keeping an expression of calm despite the hundreds of eyes watching from Winterfell's battlements and grounds. 

The North, however, had served you better than King's Landing ever had. Even though you had only been back in the capitol for a month before Jon Arryn mysteriously passed on.

Back in King's Landing, being the King's bastard daughter that he keeps around, it made you the target of a lot of people's hate, more specifically Cersei Lannister's, and anyone who followed her. They always made it their mission to remind you that you were just your father's pet bastard daughter.

Even though your father was a drunk, brash and hasty man at times, he was still smart when he needed to be. He was a boy turned man thanks to the rebellion, meaning war and conflict were the only things that he truly knew anything about. He didn't know anything about diplomacy or how to run a kingdom, that's why your uncle Renly and all the other members of the small council had practically been running the show.

Before your father decided to ride for Winterfell because of Jon Arryn's death, you had started to notice that the old Hand of the King was growing more restless and skeptical. Up to his final hours on Earth, however, his mind clouded with fever, he still spoke as if he had a sound mind.