Game Of Thrones... With A Twist

Prologue

<Ten years after Robert's Rebellion, The Courtyard, Winterfell, The North...>

A young lad of eleven years leaned against a wall, his dark brown hair slightly parted as his Stark grey eyes observed his siblings calmly from the shadows, watching over them as a shadowy guardian.

He watched silently as a ten-year-old auburn haired boy sparred with another boy of the same age, his dark hair and his eyes brown, both using wooden swords to spar for their little game as they laughed, pretending to be heroes from myths and legends to amuse themselves.

"If you're Ser Arthur Dayne, then I'm the Lord of Winterfell!" The red-haired boy declared with a victorious smile, some pride in himself that his father had been the one to slay the infamous Sword of the Morning.

"Come on, Robb! Why can't I be the Lord of Winterfell?" The black-haired boy asked in a more sullen tone.

"It's because you're a bastard, Jon. Mother says that bastards can never inherit anything." Robb answered in his most truthful tone, unknowingly hurting his younger brother with his statement.

Robb did notice the hurt though... but he was too late to act as a disapproving voice called to him.

"Robb Stark! Never belittle your brother like that. He may not be your full-blooded brother, the same as I, but he is your brother nonetheless. We all share father's blood and are therefore kin. When winter comes, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. It would do you good to remember that." The older boy called from his place in the shadows, as he walked towards them, coming into the light.

"I'm sorry, Jon. I won't do it again, Edwyn. I promise." Robb said apologetically, looking at his feet for he did not wish to see the disappointment in his older brother's eyes.

"See to it that you do. You're to be the Stark of Winterfell one day, and you must be stronger than us all when that day comes. Don't push away your family before you know exactly what that means." Edwyn said as he turned his back to the younger boys, who looked contemplative at their older brother's words.

"You two are brothers. And brothers look out for each other. Remember that, little brothers." Edwyn said, sounding far older that his age as both boys were quiet.

That said however...

"Good. Now that we have all the serious stuff out of the way, who's up for a prank or two?" Edwyn asked his younger brothers, who all smiled in excitement before they ran in front of their brother, eager to meet up in the Godswood to plan what other havoc that would strike Winterfell soon.

As Edwyn was about to leave though, he turned over his shoulder and glared at the raised platform, where one Lady Catelyn Stark was glaring at her husband's oldest bastard son with white hot rage and undying hatred in her veins.

Oh how she hated the son of Ashara Dayne,  who looked more Stark than even her own babes.

The boy was soon out of sight however, and Catelyn turned to catch up with them, to stop them from their scheming and get her son away from those two bastards... but she was stopped cold when she saw the face of her husband watching her with a bit of a frown, obviously displeased with the way she was treating his eldest son.

"What?" She snapped at him, causing his eyes to narrow.

"... I'm wondering whether you will ever let your hatred for both Edwyn and Jon go. Everyday since I brought them north with me, I have hoped and prayed that you would let it go... but now I wonder whether you ever will." Eddard 'Ned' Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, said quietly, doing his moniker as the 'Quiet Wolf' proud.