I'll be tagging people that seem interested as I go along, so let me know if you want tagged so you'll get a notification when I release a new chapter.
@John Dixon @whargoul
<Warning: The time line in the show & books are different so there's obvious changes with the characters such as; they are older in the show, events happen at different times, etc.>
Eddard I of House Stark: Lord of Winterfell, Lord Paramount of the North & Warden of the North.
“Winter is coming”, those are the words of my house. The last one occurred about 9 years ago, word from the Maesters at the citadel say that the days are beginning to grow shorter. I don’t need them to tell me what I already know. Winter is coming. My children Brandon, Rickon, & Arya were all born in the long summer and have not seen a true winter. As I sit here watching Brandon practice the bow with Robb, Rickon and Jon beside him, I pray for them. Brandon misses the target and the others begin to laugh. I ask them “Which one of you was a marksman at 10? Keep practicing Bran”. Being the second son growing up is not as easy as many may think, I should know. Ser Rodrick Cassel approaches saying that a deserter from the nights watch has been captured. As Warden of the North, it is my duty to deliver swift justice. Once you swear the oath, it is known that it is against the law to desert the nights watch. The deserters know exactly who awaits them when they flee, me. I decide to take Brandon with me, he must learn that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. He won’t be a boy forever.
My oldest son Robb Stark, Jon Snow, my ward Theon Greyjoy, my master at arms Rodrick Cassel, & Rodrick’s nephew Jory accompany me to the execution as well. Will is the name of the deserter in question. As he is being led to the wooden block he is mumbling madness. He looks me in the eyes and begins to explain to me that he and his friends were attacked by the White Walkers. “What is this madness?” I think to myself. The White Walkers haven’t been seen in over a thousand years. He has truth in his eyes but, a madman sees what a madman sees. I take his head. Jon tells me that Brandon did not look away, which makes me proud.
As we are on our way back to Winterfell we come across a dead stag in the road. Theon suggests mountain lions but I know that there are no mountain lions in these woods. There are tracks that lead down towards the stream where we came across something that I definitely did not expect to find. Theon calls it a monster, but it’s a dead female dire wolf, and it has 5 live pups surrounding her. Robb points out that it is uncommon to find dire wolves south of the wall and he is right. Jon hands one of the pups to Brandon. “The dire wolf pups won’t survive for long without their mother, better a quick death” I tell them, but Robb & Jon both protest to killing them. Jon suggests, “5 pups, one for each of the Stark children. The Dire wolf is the sigil of your house. They were meant to have them.”
A. Let your children keep the Dire Wolf pups.
B. Kill the Dire Wolf pups.
Daenerys of House Targaryen: Exiled Princess of the Seven Kingdoms“Fire and Blood”, the words of my family. Viserys always likes to remind me of these words as we go from free city to the next, selling off what little valuables that we have left. Most people would have us for a night or two to entertain themselves then kick us out the next day. One time Viserys dined with The Golden Company to ask for their services. All they did was eat his food and laugh, but they did not assist us. Our year-long stay in Pentos has been the longest we’ve been in one place since Ser Willem Darry helped us escape across the narrow sea to Braavos from Dragonstone 16 years earlier. Willem died when I was 7 and we were left to our own devices. Illyrio is different from our past hosts, he asks nothing but gives us everything, most men are not this way. I am aware of what my brother and Illyrio plan on doing. They intend to sell me to the savage known as Khal Drogo.
The day has come for me to meet him for the first time and I have still not grown fond the of the idea, and I never will. I want to go home, not marry some savage Khal of the Dothraki. Even as I stand here waiting for him in my silk dress which reveals everything to anyone who looks, I still cannot believe I am in this situation. As Drogo approaches, Viserys pulls me in and tells me that Khal Drogo has never been defeated in single combat, based on the fact that his braid is so long. When Dothraki are defeated their braid is cut so the world can see their shame. It doesn’t matter how many times Drogo has escaped death. The usurper & his band of traitors escaped death & justice but it doesn’t make them noble people. I approach Drogo, who stares me up and down before riding away. Apparently he liked me, but a part of me was hoping he wouldn’t and would break the betrothal. Later on Illyrio continues telling Viserys how the people of Westeros drink secret toasts to his health, how they are sowing dragon banners and praying for his return. I tell Viserys that I do not want to be Drogo’s queen. He then explains to me that we can only go home with an army. He says that he’d let Drogo’s whole tribe fuck me if that’s what it took. I hate him, but he is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne and the Last Dragon so it is not my place to judge him.
I have now married Khal Drogo, reluctantly. The only reason I have not protested is because this savage is our only way to get home. As I sit with people approaching Drogo & Me giving us congratulation, several impromptu duels begin. Men bend women over in front of us and rape them. I hear Illyrio tell my brother that this is a good sign as a Dothraki wedding without at least 3 deaths is considered a dull affair. The gifts start arriving. My first gift is from a Westerosi Knight named Ser Jorah Mormont. He says he served my father for many years. Ser Jorah swears fealty to my brother as King and offers him his support and advice, which Viserys accepts. Illyrio has 2 people usher in a box and open it in front of me. It is dragon eggs, the sigil of my house. According to Illyrio, these are dragon eggs from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai that have turned to stone with the passing of time. I feel something that I can’t quite explain. Drogo stands up and motions for me to as well. I follow him down the stairs towards the crowd. I see a white stallion. She’s beautiful. I want to thank Drogo but Jorah tells me that there is no word for “Thank You” in Dothraki, not surprising. As Drogo lifts me onto the horse and goes to get on his horse, Viserys tells me to make him happy. We go down to the shore where we are to consummate the marriage. I ask Drogo if he speaks the common tongue but the only word he seems to know is “no” and I’m unsure if he even understands what it means. Why should I be married to a man who can’t even understand me or me him? He takes off my clothes and bends me over, but all I can think about are those dragon eggs.
Tyrion of House Lannister: Heir to The Westerlands & Casterly RockWhores, my father despises them. Hell he despises me, which is one of the reasons why I lay with them, and why I’m laying with one right now. Anything to piss off that pompous cunt. Although I don’t think I’ve laid with the most, that honor would go to my brother-in-law the King. The courts of Kings Landing have always been my escape away my father, who luckily is staying at Casterly Rock, but this morning those bells have made me more frustrated than most. Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, has died. Not really that surprising. Although Stannis, King Robert’s younger brother, left Kings Landing and returned to Dragonstone shortly after the hand’s death which seems suspicious but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was merely a coincidence or that Stannis was leaving before Robert tries to name him Hand. I’ve heard that the crown is 6 million dragons in debt, 3 million of that debt is to my father. My brother Jaime has told me that Jon Arryn was quickly consumed by a sickness, and Lord Arryn was quite old. He was about 80 I believe, most would be lucky to see 50 so he should be thankful for that wherever he is now. I have no idea who will be Hand, I don’t even think the gods are certain who drunkard Robert will name to the post next. Possibly my father? If that’s the case then I don’t think my tenure here in the Capital will be that much longer. As I’m thinking about this my brother Jaime barges in saying “You told me once that you wanted to see the North. I didn't want you to miss your chance.” I ask him who’s going north and he says “The King. The Queen. Me. You, if you can find your pants.” I ask him why and he jokingly says “Well, I'm used to it, but the rest of the court might be frightened by the sight of your wet little dagger.” I asked once again “Why are we going north?” Jaime finally says “The King has chosen his Hand. And nobody's going to be happy about it.” Apparently Robert has chosen Eddard Stark as his new hand. I’m sure Eddard doesn’t even know yet. I’m wondering what he’ll say, but why should I be going North? Jaime is right in the fact that I have wanted to see the north for a long time, but is this the right time?
A. Go north to Winterfell with Robert Baratheon’s party.
B. Stay in Kings Landing.
Partial writing credits go to my brother's girlfriend who proof read some of this lol