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Game of Gods (GOT/ASOIAF)
Plans and Schemes

Plans and Schemes

As I watched Tyrion's small back departing from my room , I found myself liking smart people even more than I did previously.

I barely gave the little man any information at all.

I was evasive , angry and overall non-cooperative.

But the imp was satisfied.

Because he ,,saw,, through me , read between the lines and ,,got closer,, to solving the mystery behind my change.

I barely even did anything.

I just seemed a teeny-tiny bit afraid towards the end of our conversation.

For someone who observed my actions lately, the clues were practically in plain sight.

I wanted to prove myself.

I was feeling fear related to me staying on the throne.

If ,,someone,, also knew , or at least suspected the truth about my lineage, the answer was clear as day.

But since the laws of causality were a thing, now I had to watch out for the ripples my conversation with Tyrion would produce , or they would turn into piranha and come to bite me in the ass when I least expected it.

That's how Murphy liked to do things.

"Still all things considered, this day should be quite peaceful."

I thought as I got out of bed and started my morning workout.

Since I reached a deal with the Raven , my primary purpose in Winterfell was completed.

I now just had to keep Bran with me for the whole day to avoid him 'unluckily' falling from a tower.

I already told my father that I would not accompany him to hunt and instead stay at the castle and train with ser Barristan for the tourney.

Hmm , now that I think about it , this whole thing turned out to be unnecessary in the end.

There was no such thing as ,,fate,, in this world, or at least it's fate wasn't the same as in the serial I watched during my stay on earth.

But still, an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.

It would have been real awkward if I killed Petyr Baelish and then found myself besieged by angry gods for 'ruining the plot'.

And it would be a good opportunity to test myself and my trained/stolen skills with a sword.

.

.

.

.

After I finished my routine, mainly consisting in pushups , squats and stretching , I went to the Great hall to search for Bran.

The maids whom I asked about his whereabouts pointed me there , saying that he always eats his breakfast and then runs to climb every tall building he sets his eyes upon.

.

And there he was , the little wolf (or was it raven?), in the corner of the hall , munching happily on something...

Surrounded by all of his important siblings...

And Jon Snow

And Tonny Dipshit or whatever he was called.

Hmm, the plot has changed.

Eddard Stark didn't take everyone but Bran with him when he went hunting...

Not that unexpected, really.

I'll just have to adapt my plan to fit the circumstances.

"Hey there , friends!" I smiled as I sat at the Stark children's table.

"Prince Joffrey, it's good to see you in high spirits in this beautiful morning"

Robb took the lead and greeted me , trying and failing to hide his surprise at my sudden arrival.

After that , the ice was broken , and the other Starks greeted me as well.

Save for Jon Snow , who mumbled an apology about something, but I just waved my hand at him.

"None of that now , you were in a drunken stupor and the thought in the forefront of your mind was still protecting your family's honour.

That's honestly admirable" I told the boy , almost sincerely.

The table went quiet at that , maybe because they didn't expect me to praise a supposed slight to my ,,royal,, self , but I literally couldn't care any less.

"And that brings me to the reason I'm sitting at your table right now " I continued smoothly , not letting the silence become awkward.

"Since tomorrow is the start of the Grand Tourney , thank you for the idea by the way..." I added while looking at the bastard-but-not-really "I want to invite you all to join me in my training with Ser Barristan, the Commander of the Kingsguard , whom my father specifically asked to stay here in Winterfell while he was out hunting "

*Kiaaaa!!*

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

....was that child squealing?

Well , Arya is only eleven years so I guess...

You know what , I will just pretend I didn't hear that.

"...we would be honored..." That same squealing girl whispered after a few seconds of EVERYBODY in the great hall staring at her amusedly.

"Just like my little sister said...It would be an honor, your Grace" the heir of the Starks smoothly got the discussion back on track.

There were no complains , thankfully.

I didn't want to look for reasons why I couldn't let Bran go if he decided that he'd rather climb the First Keep instead of joining me for sword training.

Even Sansa , with her 'fighting isn't for ladies' mindset didn't openly protest , though maybe she assumed that I invited her to only watch.

I didn't really care what they did , to be honest.

I just needed to keep Bran safe , away from incestuous Lannisters.

I told the Raven that I would strengthen his vessel's soul , but I didn't swear on it , so he had no real guarantee that I would keep my word.

I wouldn't put it past him to find a way to break Bran's legs , just to have some backup in case I decided to go back on my promise.

So Bran would stay with me , even if I had to challenge him to a climbing contest and tire him out.

Now that I think about it , that's not that bad of a plan...

As I thought intensely about ways to keep a boy from being splattered on the ground, me and my companions reached Winterfell's training grounds.

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Jon Snow pov :

Winterfell's training grounds stretched out before me, a sprawling expanse of well-tended earth and grass.

Wooden dummies and training equipment were strategically scattered, a testament to the vigorous drills that took place here.

The brisk wind carried the echoes of clashing swords and the rhythmic thud of practice strikes.

Amidst this martial symphony, Ser Barristan Selmy stood as a paragon of skill and experience.

His tall figure moved with a grace that belied his age, the fluidity of his movements a testament to his prowess.

Clad in simple training attire, he practiced his strokes with precision and discipline, his sword a seamless extension of his being.

Every swing and parry was executed with a measured focus, each motion honed by years of training and battles fought.

The sun glinted off his armor and the lines on his weathered face spoke of a lifetime dedicated to the art of combat.

As he moved through the forms, his concentration was unwavering, his eyes fixed on an unseen opponent.

Ser Barristan's presence on the training grounds was a masterclass in itself, a living reminder of the dedication and skill required to excel in the realm of the sword.

Amidst the backdrop of Winterfell's towering walls, his practice was a silent tribute to the unending pursuit of mastery—a sight that inspired respect and admiration in all who bore witness.

Gazing at Ser Selmy as he practiced with unmatched finesse on the training grounds, a spark of determination ignited within me.

The way he moved, the elegance in his every motion—it was a testament to the honor and skill of a true knight. How I longed to emulate such prowess, to stand as a knight respected by all, just as he was.

But my aspirations extended beyond the confines of personal glory.

As I watched Ser Barristan, I couldn't help but envision the moment when my father, Eddard Stark, would acknowledge my progress and grant his approval.

His nod of pride would mean more to me than any accolade.

I yearned for my siblings to look at me with that same admiration, to see in my eyes the reflection of a knight's unwavering honor.

I wanted Arya to gaze at me, not just as her brother, but as someone who could inspire her—a protector and role model.

Yet amidst these dreams of knighthood and valor, a shadow crossed my thoughts—the Night's Watch.

My uncle Benjen's unwavering dedication to that ancient order was both inspiring and cautionary. The Wall held stories of honor and sacrifice, but it was also shrouded in the unknown and the dangerous.

I couldn't help but wonder about my own path, my place in this world.

Was I destined to follow in my father's footsteps and uphold the ideals of House Stark?

Or was the call of the Night's Watch, with its mysterious purpose and stark realities, a destiny that awaited me?

As I stood there, watching Ser Barristan, my heart was torn between the allure of knighthood and the solemn duty of the Night's Watch.

But whatever path I chose, I knew that the road ahead would be one of challenges and revelations, each step shaping the man I was meant to become.

.

.

After we introduced ourselves, the aging knight had us demonstrate our mastery with the sword , observed each one of us (even Sansa who didn't dare object when the knight shoved a training sword in her hands) and told us what moves to practice to help us improve.

Alright, time to put the old man's wisdom to the test.

Gripping the hilt of my sword, I squared my stance and focused on the drills he'd been drilling into my head.

First, the overhead swing—channeling all that force into the blade and bringing it down in a clean arc.

It's all about the follow-through, he'd said.

Next up, the horizontal slash.

My arms flexed as I swung the sword sideways, remembering to twist my hips just like he'd demonstrated.

Gotta admit, it feels good when the blade slices through the air with that whooshing sound.

But the best part? Barristan's favorite—the upward strike.

I bend my knees, summon my strength, and thrust the sword upward, like I'm trying to reach the damn sky.

A good hit can knock someone off balance, he'd emphasized.

Damn right.

There's a rhythm to it, a dance with the sword. Each move's got a purpose, a way of putting all that power behind the blade.

It's funny, 'cause when you get into it, the world kinda fades away.

All that matters is the feel of the sword in your hand, the rush of air as you swing, and the satisfaction of nailing that perfect strike.

So, there I am, swinging and swiping, feeling like I'm getting a handle on this whole sword fighting thing.

Barristan's lessons are sticking, and damn if I don't feel a bit more like a warrior every time that blade hits its mark.

Shifting my gaze to the left, I spotted none other than Prince Joffrey himself.

Now, this was unexpected.

You see, the prince usually had this whole arrogant aura going on, like he was born with a silver sword in his hand.

But today, something was different.

Surprisingly, he wasn't oozing that usual air of "I'm better than you."

Instead, there was a kind of sincerity in his expression that caught me off guard.

His movements?

Smooth, graceful, like he'd been practicing every trick in the knight's handbook.

It was as if he'd traded in his entitlement for actual hard work.

Honestly, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of respect.

The guy who used to act like the king of the world was now acting more like...well, an actual warrior in training.

It was like watching a puppet suddenly cut its strings and start dancing its own dance.

As Joffrey showed off his newfound finesse, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself.

Turns out, you can't judge a book by its fancy cover.

There's more to a person than what you see on the surface, and sometimes, they surprise you with their choices.

So, here I was, taking a moment to appreciate the twist in Joffrey's journey.

Guess Winterfell's training grounds were good for more than just swordplay; they had a knack for revealing hidden depths too...

As I watched the golden haired prince , my mind wandered to what happened last night...

...Oh gods, why did I have to remind myself of that?

Last night was a blur of ale and foolish decisions. I got drunk, too drunk, and thought it was a fantastic idea to challenge Joffrey to a duel.

In front of the entire court, no less.

My embarrassment knows no bounds.

I can still hear the laughter and see the amused looks on everyone's faces.

King Robert was probably wondering what in the Seven Hells possessed me to challenge the prince.

I guess I was trying to prove something, show that I could hold my own, that I wasn't just a bastard....

But now, in the sober light of day, I realize how foolish I was.

Challenging the prince who's been trained by some of the best swordsmen in the realm?

Yeah, that was a recipe for disaster.

I should have known better, should have kept my pride in check.

Thank the gods Joffrey declined, probably recognizing my drunken state and not wanting to cause a scene.

I would have embarrassed myself even more if I stumbled my way through a duel.

It's one thing to dream of becoming a skilled swordsman, it's another to actually be one.

So here I am, nursing my wounded pride and vowing to stay away from alcohol for a while. Lesson learned: never challenge a prince to a duel while under the influence.

And maybe, just maybe, I'll manage to avoid any more public displays of idiocy.

Though, it's hard to believe that just an hour ago, Joffrey invited us to train with him.

And now, here we are, side by side, swinging swords in the crisp morning air. It's a different kind of experience, training with the him.

But hey, life's full of surprises.

Arya's practically glowing, a smile plastered on her face as she takes in every word Ser Barristan says. She's always been the feisty one, eager to prove herself. I have to admit, seeing her so excited and engaged is infectious. It's like she's found her calling.

As for me, I'm grateful for the opportunity. There's something about sparring with Joffrey that's... different. He might seem to be a royal pain most of the time, mostly because of his punchable face , but he knows his stuff.

I can tell he's been trained well, and he's got a presence that commands attention.

It's not just the prince part, there's something more.

Training with him gives me a chance to see him in a different light.

It's not about houses, titles, or even our differences.

Right now, it's about two guys swinging swords, trying to improve, trying to prove something.

And that's a bond I never thought we'd share.

Who would've guessed that a prince, some Starks, and an old knight would be standing here together, brought together by the clanging of swords and the thrill of combat?

It's funny how life has a way of surprising you when you least expect it.

Watching my siblings spar with Joffrey and Ser Barristan is both entertaining and heartwarming. Rob's skills are impressive, no surprise there. He's been training for years, and it shows.

His movements are precise, his form is solid, and he's in his element.

It's like he was born with a sword in his hand.

Arya's a different story. She's like a natural whirlwind, all quick movements and fierce determination. It's like she's been training her whole life without anyone even noticing.

Her enthusiasm is infectious, and it's clear that she's soaking up every piece of advice Ser Barristan throws her way.

Then there's Bran, the youngest of us all at just nine years old.

He's holding his own surprisingly well, considering his age.

It's not easy for a kid to go up against seasoned warriors, but Bran's got determination in his eyes. He might not have the strength or experience, but he's got heart, and that counts for something.

And then there's Sansa.

Sweet Sansa, struggling to swing her sword with all her might.

I can't help but smile as I watch her, huffing and puffing, putting in the effort even if the results aren't quite there yet.

She's trying, and that's what matters. Maybe one day she'll find her rhythm, just like the rest of us.

Seeing my siblings out here, giving it their all, reminds me of the strength of our family.

We might be different, with our own strengths and weaknesses, but we're connected by something deeper.

We're Starks, and that means something. Whether we're swinging swords or facing the challenges life throws at us...

...we do it together.

.

.

.

Oh , and Theon was there too.

He was practicing too...good for him.

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A.N :

"Me?

Truthfully, if someone asked me where I wanted to be a year from now, the only real answer would be 'alive!'

My current plans didn't go much past the next four or five months and they mainly revolved around watching my enemies, making sure they didn't ruin my life, and training like a motherfucker day and night. "

-Jaune Arc , The games we Play by Ryugi

(Low-key the best RWBY fanfiction)

Also , we're visiting RWBY sometimes in the future ;)

Maybe even as the next world if you guys really want that - tell me in the comments