The Last Reyne

"The Starks have ruled the North since the Age of Heroes. Founded by Bran the Builder, they have reigned as Kings of Winter for 8000 years. Now my young lord, do you remember what the words of this Great House?"

"Winter is coming."

"Indeed it is." Lord Rickard Stark's icy gaze never flinched away from him. Had he actually stated those last words aloud? He shifted uncomfortably.

"Were you reminiscing of your old home and the lessons they taught you? Those tedious lessons from the Maester helped did it not?" Brandon chuckled. Tyrence's bronze eyes shifted towards the heir of Winterfell. To him, Brandon had the kind of eyes that reminded him of a wolf, it still made him uneasy but it was a relief compared to his Lord Father's eyes which were akin to the harsh winters of the North.

A cough from the tent's opening diverted the Stark's attention from him. "I have brought them as you asked Lord Stark."

"And what of the other task I gave you?"

"Word has been sent already my lord."

Lord Rickard nodded. "Robert, Eddard, there are matters of utter importance we need to discuss." Their eyes flickered towards him. "This young boy here claims to be the son of the late Lord Reyne of Castamere."

"Castamere?" The man with stormy blue eyes frowned. "I've heard the passing minstrels sing of a tale regarding House Reyne. It was not a happy one."

"It was..." His voice cracked.

A hand rested on the crown of his head. "We understand." Tyrence looked up to see that the man who had spoken earlier looked kindly on him. "You were wise to seek the North. The gods must have smiled upon you to lead directly to the Starks."

"You truly believe it is he Robert?" His companion queried.

The one called Robert nodded. "I am Robert of the House Baratheon and this gloomy lad I came here with is Lord Rickard's son, Eddard."

"I..." He stood taller. "I am Tyrence, the last Reyne of Castamere."

"Well met young lord." Robert turned towards Lord Stark. "And what intentions do you have for this one my lord?"

"It is what I called you in for. You three are going to the Eyrie. This time, permanently as the wards of Jon Arryn."

Both of them nodded.

"And when do we leave for the Eyrie father?" Eddard asked. "Are we not to continue accompanying you towards Riverrun?"

Lord Stark shook his head. "You leave by the early morn. I have sent word to Jon, he will know what to do. Boy,"

Tyrence jumped a little at the intensity of his gaze. "Yes Lord Stark?"

"Go with them." He gestured towards Robert and Eddard. "And you two, teach him what you've been taught so far by the Maester and the master-of-arms."

Both of them nodded and left, Tyrence hurried after them.

"Permanent wards huh... This should be fun." Robert chuckled.

Eddard sighed. "Robert please, don't get in too much trouble. Besides," he looked back. "We got a kid to take care of as well."

"Ah, the little runt yes." Robert grinned.

"I wouldn't be a burden." Tyrence said strongly.

"You've certainly got a certain fire in you."

As Tyrence shuffled after them, he passed by a passed out man tied to a post. It was the man who had tried to sell him. He shook his head, perhaps if he had only been stronger or faster then he could have escaped. His young mind was plagued with questions once more. Is Waylona looking for him? Does she think of him as dead? What plans did the gods have for him now?

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Hello everyone! First thing's first, this fanfic will not have fully accurate facts about GoT. T^T I don't think I've stressed that out enough. I do try to make it canon but inserting OC's can be quite tricky. x) I am well aware that Ned and Robert met at the age of 8 in the Eyrie as "permanent" wards of Jon Arryn. However in this fanfic, they are at the age of around 14, something closer to the timeline when Robert conceived his first bastard child. Toodles!

-Tee

P.S. If you're wondering why Ned is called Eddard here, it's because it's in Tyrence's POV.