Eddard Stark pov :
The visitors poured through the castle gates in a river of gold and silver and polished steel, three hundred strong, a pride of bannermen and knights, of sworn swords and freeriders.
Over their heads a dozen golden banners whipped back and forth in the northern wind, emblazoned with the crowned stag of Baratheon.
Ned knew many of the riders. There came Ser Jaime Lannister with hair as bright as beaten gold, and there Sandor Clegane with his terrible burned face.
The stunted little man behind them was surely the Imp, Tyrion Lannister.
And the tall boy beside him could only be the crown prince...
As Joffrey's figure moved with a fluid grace upon his horse, Eddard couldn't help but be struck by the aura of power that seemed to envelop him. The winds of Winterfell's courtyard ruffled his hair, and yet the boy's demeanor remained untouched by the elements, a testament to an inherent command that transcended the ordinary.
It was a sight that both intrigued and unsettled Eddard.
He had expected a child of privilege, one shaped by the gilded halls of King's Landing.
And yet, here was the prince — regal and resolute, his young eyes holding a glint of determination that seemed out of place in the innocence of youth.
Eddard's thoughts lingered on the contrast before him — the juxtaposition of the boy's demeanor against the backdrop of his childhood. It was as if the mantle of kingship, even in its embryonic form, had already begun to shape the contours of Joffrey's character.
The aura of power, so often reserved for those who had earned their place, clung to the child as if by divine decree.
The realization weighed heavily on Eddard's heart.
He recognized the potential — the potential for greatness, certainly, but also the potential for folly and arrogance.
He knew that the world could be unforgiving, and that power, when bestowed prematurely, could corrupt even the purest of intentions...
And then he was broken from his musings by a bone-crunching hug.
"Ned! Ah, but it is good to see that frozen face of yours." The king looked him over top to bottom, and laughed. "You have not changed at all."
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Negary Pov:
It was time for introductions, huh?
Well , let's get this charade over with...
Queen Cersei's entrance exuded an air of composed elegance as she glided forward, her children in tow. She paused before Lady Catelyn, her gaze calculating as she began the introductions.
"Allow me to present my youngest," Cersei's voice was tinged with maternal pride as she gestured to Tommen. "Prince Tommen Baratheon, a beacon of innocence and promise." Tommen stood, his expression earnest, and he extended a small but regal bow to Lady Catelyn.
"Prince Tommen," Lady Catelyn's voice carried a soothing resonance as she addressed the young boy. "It is an honor to meet you. The North welcomes you with open arms." Tommen's face lit up with a mixture of excitement and shyness, and he offered Lady Catelyn a respectful nod.
Cersei's attention shifted, and her gaze softened slightly as she turned to Myrcella. "And this is my daughter, Princess Myrcella Baratheon. A flower of grace and diplomacy." Myrcella curtsied gracefully, her gaze meeting Lady Catelyn's with a mixture of curiosity and respect.
Lady Catelyn's gaze shifted to Myrcella, her smile growing warmer. "Princess Myrcella, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Your presence graces Winterfell." Myrcella's expression mirrored Lady Catelyn's warmth, and she curtsied with a grace that hinted at a shared understanding of the roles they each held.
And then all eyes shifted to me.
Nobody stepped up to introduce me , which was a surprise , but with both of my ,,parents,, looking at me expectantly , I guess this was some kind of test.
Oh , you poor sobs , if I was the real Joffrey, I would be angrily demanding why I was the only one left out...
But since you want a show , well , don't blame me for being unreasonable.
Joffrey's approach exuded a blend of confidence and formality as he stood before Lord Eddard Stark. He took a deep breath, his expression a mix of humility and pride, and spoke with a tone that carried a touch of deference.
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"My Lord Stark," Joffrey's voice held a note of genuine respect. "Allow me to introduce myself — I am Joffrey Baratheon, the eldest son of King Robert and Queen Cersei." He paused for a moment, allowing the weight of his lineage to settle in the air.
He continued, his gaze sweeping over Winterfell with an appreciative glint in his eye. "It's an honor to stand within the walls of Winterfell. The tales of its history and strength are renowned throughout the Seven Kingdoms." Joffrey's words carried a touch of sincerity, a recognition of the significance of the place he found himself in.
His blue eyes met Eddard's gaze, a mixture of humility and pride evident in his expression. "I am eager to learn from your wisdom, my lord, and to understand the North's customs and traditions. Winterfell is a testament to the North's strength, and it's my hope that my time here will help me become a better steward of my own responsibilities."
And there was silence...
Everyone was stumped.
A prince showing humbleness?
In front of a lord nonetheless?
Of course! That's the first rule of social warfare, never let the opponent anticipate your moves.
Eddard was surely expecting a showing of pride fitting for the crown prince , but my soft approach put him on the back foot , figuratively speaking.
We were not enemies, yet , merely new acquaintances , so he smiled and replied to me.
"Prince Joffrey," Eddard Stark's voice held a firm yet measured tone as he regarded the young Baratheon. "Welcome to Winterfell. Your presence is honored, and your lineage carries weight throughout the Seven Kingdoms."
He offered a nod of acknowledgment before continuing, "It's heartening to hear your desire to understand the North's customs and traditions. Winterfell stands as a bastion of our people's resilience, a fortress against the harshness of our land. It's my hope that your time here will offer you insights into the values that define the North."
Eddard's gaze held a mixture of caution and expectation as he met Joffrey's eyes. "The North values strength and honor, and our people's loyalty is earned through action, not just birthright. As you spend time within these walls, I hope you'll come to appreciate the wisdom of our ways and the depths of responsibility that leadership demands."
Yes yes , Mr wolf , you are honorable and shit , yada yada yada.
Now , let there be chaos...
"My Lord Stark," Joffrey's voice held a note of respect, "I have heard of the prowess that House Stark is known for on the battlefield. Your family's legacy as skilled warriors is renowned throughout the realm."
He took a deep breath, his gaze steady as he continued, "I humbly request the opportunity to learn from your expertise. Would you be willing to engage in a spar with me? I believe that the guidance of a swordmaster such as yourself would be invaluable in honing my own skills."
And the crowd went wild.
My father started gaping like a fish.
My mother looked positively horrified
Lord Stark , to his credit , only widened his eyes just as his wife narrowed hers .
What I did wasn't really a challenge to a duel , but it wasn't that far off.
I asked for a ,,spar,, but by doing so in the public eye , the fight itself would also be watched by crowds.
And when crowds were involved, so was reputation.
The winner would gain glory, while the loser would be scorned.
But in the end , there would be no real winners , since the relationship between our houses would be strained a fair bit.
Well , it surely wouldn't come to that.
I had plans to prevent it from happening
"My Lord Joffrey," Eddard Stark's voice carried a blend of gravity and wisdom as he regarded the young prince. "I appreciate your words and your desire to learn. House Stark does indeed hold a tradition of martial prowess, one that we hold dear and pass down through generations."
He offered a nod of acknowledgment before continuing, "However, I must caution you, young prince. The path of the sword is one that demands discipline, humility, and a respect for the lives it affects.
It is not a pursuit taken lightly, and the responsibilities of leadership carry a weight that extends beyond the training yard."
Eddard's gaze softened as he looked upon Joffrey, recognizing the mix of determination and eagerness that defined the prince's demeanor. "That being said, I see the sincerity in your request. If you are truly committed to learning, then I would be honored to share what knowledge I can. But know this, Joffrey — the skills of a swordsman must always be tempered with a sense of honor and duty."
So he already decided that I would lose , and was trying to make this whole thing into a learning experience for me .
If that was to really help me learn to be less rash in the future or to protect my family's reputation from being stained by my unsightly loss , only the man himself knew.
But I didn't really care about any of that .
What I needed right now was to make a bigger ripple than the ones I made so far , and see how the tides of fate react.
I honestly half expected to be prevented from talking by a ,,random" series of unlikely events , like a few dozen ravens shiting on my head...
Alas , it didn't come to be...
The ravens were still waiting...slowly circling above us .
Silently planning....
.
But so was I
.
.
.
.
.
As I watched my father hurrying towards the Stark's memorial crypt , all but dragging Lord Stark with him , I could see the barely concealed annoyance of both Queen Cersei and Lady Catelyn.
By challenging Lord Stark at a sword fight I had committed a faux pas of epic proportions, but compared to all the crazy shit that would happen in the future , this move was quite tame all things considered.
If they were smart , they would turn this problem into an opportunity, making a tourney in which everyone could participate, in honor of the king of course.
That might actually be fun.
But now , it was time for boredom, unfortunately.
Lady Catelyn has started introducing her children one by one , and I honestly couldn't be brothered.
I knew about Robb stark , the dude who became king after Ed's death.
He was now just a 17 year old kid.
Well , I guess my body was 16 so I shouldn't be talking.
There was Sansa , the girl who the original Joffrey loved to torture. She was 13
There was Arya , the Faceless assassin and eventual killer of the MOTHERFUCKING NIGHT KING . *COUGH* like how the fuck?
Anyway , she was 11.
And then there was Bran , the three eyed Raven himself , or at least his avatar , now aged 9.
He didn't get his powers yet , and I couldn't help but wonder if he would still get them if he didn't break his legs like in canon.
Also there was another kid , but he was too young to be of any use to me so I didn't bother memorizing his name.
We were now at the entrance of the Great Hall of Winterfell. Lady Stark having guided us here in the absence of her husband.
Massive wooden doors swung open to reveal a sight of opulent splendor.
The hall was adorned with banners displaying the sigils of various noble houses, a testament to the unity of the realm under the rule of King Robert.
The air was thick with the tantalizing aromas of roasted meats, savory stews, and freshly baked bread.
Long tables were laden with an array of delicacies, a feast fit for kings and lords alike. Goblets of wine sparkled in the candlelight, and the crackling hearth at the far end of the hall cast a warm glow that beckoned guests to partake in the revelry.
Catelyn's voice carried over the chatter as she welcomed everyone to the feast. "Welcome, honored guests, to Winterfell's Great Hall. We gather here to celebrate the arrival of our esteemed king, Robert Baratheon." Her words were met with a ripple of applause and cheers, the excitement of the occasion filling the air.
With a graceful sweep of her hand, Lady Catelyn invited the guests to take their seats. "Please, indulge in the bounties before you, and let the feast be a symbol of unity and camaraderie as we raise our cups to the realm and to House Stark."
As the guests settled in and the feast began, the Great Hall came alive with the melodies of laughter, music, and merriment.
The clang of goblets and the clatter of utensils formed a symphony of celebration, a joyful respite from the weight of the world beyond Winterfell's walls.
Under Lady Catelyn's guiding presence, the feast became a testament to the North's tradition of hospitality and the bonds that connected the realm's noble houses...
.
'Hmm , maybe I can pretend to be sick and retire early?' Thought the demon in human skin as he was forced to mingle with nobles and brats.
'If nothing worthwhile happens soon , I will just get up and excuse myself...
...Hmm , still nothing?
I could have bet Murphy would be summoned...'
"Crown prince Joffrey!" A slightly slurred shout was heard from a dark haired youth with grey eyes. "I challenge you to a duel!"
Well well well.
Jon ,,youknownothing,, Snow in the flesh.
I knew I could count on you , my dear friend Murphy...
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A.N:
"Ever tried.
Ever failed.
No matter.
Try Again.
Fail again.
Fail better."