Ser Rodrik Snow watched in both confusion and amusement as Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm dismounted his horse, and embraced Lord Eddard Stark. He leaned over to his cousin Jon and whispered, "I had heard the stories that the King was a large man, prone to wine, food and women, but the tales did not give that fat man justice." Jon cracked a smile, but did not laugh, two years of trying to get the stoic bastard to lighten up had still led to nothing but failure.

Turning his attention back to the King, Rodrik watched as the King studied Eddard's true-born children, followed shortly by Queen Cercei Baratheon, formerly of the House Lannister. Then, rather rudely, the King declared, "Take me down to your crypt, Eddard. I would pay my respects." Barring the protests of the Queen, and Eddard calling for a lantern, just like that the two men were gone, heading to the crypt to see the statue of Eddard's sister, and Robert's once betrothed, Lyanna Stark.

There was silence for a brief moment, before both parties, the assembled household and the Royal Party, began to disband and mingle. Jon and Rodrik however, were quick to make their leave, no one would be seeking them out for introductions or small talk. As they were both about to enter the Great Keep however, a voice stopped them both.

"And where does the Red Bastard of Winterfell think he is going?"

Outraged at the use of the nickname that had plagued him since he had arrived at Winterfell two years prior, Rodrik spun back around, ready to berate anyone foolish enough to call him that to his face, before all ill-intent died when he saw the speaker.

"Domeric!" There standing among the mingling crowd, was Rodrik's cousin Domeric Bolton, heir to the Dreadfort, with a smile on his face, Domeric laughed at the outrage that quickly disappeared from Rodrik's face.

Rodrik ran to his cousin, and embraced him gladly, which was returned in kind. "Why are you here, Dom? I had thought that your father had not let you out of the Dreadfort at any point in the last year?"

Domeric nodded his head, "After my return to the Dreadfort, my father was insistent that all of my time be focused on preparing to be the next Lord of the Dreadfort, but I have been sent back to Winterfell for the King's arrival, to represent House Bolton while they are here, and a few other things as well, that I will tell you after I have spoken of them to Lord Stark."

Rodrik accepted the answer with a bit of hesitation, wondering what business his cousin had with his uncle that he could not tell him of it first. Indicating Jon, Rodrik chose to avoid the topic, "In any case Dom, this is my cousin Jon Snow. Jon, this is my other cousin, Squire Domeric Bolton."

The use of his nickname "Squire Domeric" earned Rodrik a punch in the arm, but if Domeric wanted to bring up station, then Rodrik was glad to bring up the fact that Lord Refort, who both Rodrik and Domeric had squired for, for five years, had named Rodrik a knight upon their leaving, but not Domeric. Truthfully, it had been done only because Rodrik had stopped their foster brother Mychel from bedding a bastard girl, Mya Stone, and Lord Redfort had rewarded him for keeping his son from dishonoring himself with a bastard.

Jon was interested in meeting Rodrik's cousin, who he had a lot about from Rodrik. The two of them had spent five years together living in Barrowton, then another five years at the Redfort in the Vale, and since Rodrik's coming to Winterfell, Jon had aspired to meet him. Hoping not to display his curiosity, Jon simply nodded his head, saying, "It is good to meet you."

Rodrik laughed, turning back to Domeric, "It is hard to tell, but Jon is actually excited to meet you. He's a bit rough around new people, but you'll like Jon. Come, let's get into the keep and get warm."

The remaining few hours before sundown passed quickly for the three young men, leading up to the feast hosted in honor of the King's arrival at Winterfell. Domeric had quickly been re-introduced to Lady Catelyn, who had treated Domeric with the cool suspicion most treated Domeric when they realized his last name was Bolton. Regardless, she had tried to seat Domeric near a few of the more noble Lords and Ladies in attendance, but he quietly refused, and asked to be seated with his cousin, which she had granted reluctantly.

Rodrik was glad that Dom had decided to be seated with him and Jon, among a number of squires in service to the many knights in the King's retinue. As a knight himself, it was insulting to seat Rodrik among the squires, but nothing more could be expected from his aunt, who treated Rodrik and Jon both like they were actively trying to steal the Lordship of Winterfell simply by being at Winterfell. Even though it was Eddard who brought Jon to Winterfell, and ordered Rodrik's mother Barbrey to send Rodrik to Winterfell.

When Eddard had returned to Winterfell after Robert's Rebellion, he had requested the then four-year-old Rodrik to be sent to Winterfell, claiming to want to look after his own nephew, and raise him among his own children. Lady Dustin, however, had refused, claiming that herself, and later Domeric, were as much his family. Then the instant that Rodrik and Domeric had arrived at Barrowton, after returning from the Vale, they had both been requested to visit Winterfell for at least one year.

Domeric had stayed for that one year, before his father sent a guard of forty men to escort the future Lord back home to The Dreadfort. Rodrik and Domeric had parted for the first time in ten years, though Rodrik was surrounded by a, mostly, accepting family. Domeric however, went back to The Dreadfort, where his father had no doubt put him through as much preparation as he could, to make up for the ten years that had been spent away from the Dreadfort.

Brought back to the present, Rodrik watched in silence as the procession of the Starks and Baratheons entered the hall, passing right by Jon, Domeric and Rodrik. Started by his uncle walking down to the raised platform with Queen Cercei on his arm. Next came the King, leading Lady Catelyn on his arm, followed by Rickon, who stopped to speak to Jon, before Jon urged him to continue on.

The rest of the children followed, Robb, leading Lady Myrcella, a little girl compared to himself, on his arm. Arya walked by with Tommen, clearly unhappy with the formal proceedings, while Sansa followed on the arm of Prince Joffrey, glowing and sending the prince a number of smiles and shy looks.

Prince Joffrey walked with all of the over-confidence and swagger befitting a Crown Prince, looking like he considered himself a god among men. Though only twelve, the prince was tall, and Rodrik had to admit, rather comely, though the perpetual look of arrogance on his face made Rodrik dislike him immediately. Sansa didn't seem to notice the arrogance in Joffrey, too absorbed in the fact that he was a prince, and she was to marry him and one day become Queen.

Following the recently betrothed couple, walked the Queen's brothers, Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard, the best swordsman in Westeros, walking with pride and self-assured swagger, similar to Joffrey, but Rodrik knew that Ser Jaime walked with confidence, not with arrogance. Beside his brother, Tyrion Lannister looked ugly and short. 'Well, he is ugly and short.' Born a dwarf, with discolored eyes and a stout face with a too-large forehead, Tyrion was the opposite of his brother.

Last to enter, were Rodrik's other uncle, Benjen Stark, who had chosen the Night's Watch to find purpose in his life. It was a surprise to see Benjen in attendance, though Rodrik could only assume that it was because of the deserter, Yoren, who Eddard had executed.

Beside him, walked Theon Greyjoy, ward of Lord Eddard, who had more in common with Prince Joffrey than anyone else at the feast. Walking with a cockiness that Rodrik knew he could not back up.

After Rodrik's arrival at Winterfell, Theon immediately sought to create an issue, and bully Rodrik in the way that he had, and still would bully Jon. Theon was eighteen when Rodrik arrived at Winterfell, himself being slightly younger at sixteen, four years older than the twelve-year-old Jon that he bullied.

In his time in The Vale, though often disrespected by his hosts, Rodrik distinguished himself as the single best swordsman at the Redfort. In what was supposed to be a friendly spar with dulled steel, Theon had thought to use the spar as an excuse to beat Rodrik, expecting that being the elder, he had the advantage.

Theon was dead wrong. In under forty seconds, Theon was disarmed and nursing a rapidly forming bruise across his ribs. Two minutes later, he was disarmed again, though free of bruises, after Rodrik had held the tip of his blade to his throat. Robb and Jon had laughed at Theon's easy defeat, a humiliation that Theon used to fuel a contempt and hatred of Rodrik, later redoubled when Jon proved to also be a better swordsman than him a year later, then Robb also surpassed Theon in swordsmanship. As Theon passed by Rodrik and Jon, he made it a point to not even cast one look over their way, completely ignoring their existence.

After the entrance and seating of the high lords, an army of servants brought out the food and drink, Lord and Lady Stark sparing no expense for the reception of the King. The squire's table was a lively mix of the retelling of stories and adventures, and a shared complaining about the life of a squire. Jon, Domeric and Rodrik all enjoyed the feast immensely, as they ate and drank to their desire.

Jon and Rodrik's direwolves, Ghost and Anogar, enjoyed the table scraps they both scavenged, or were fed. The two, though still puppies, were nearing the size of a full grown hound, Anogar specifically was the largest of the seven pups, surprising as he had been the second smallest when they had found them in the woods. Occasionally, one of the dogs that followed the serving girls around, would try to steal something from the two pups, but standing together, none of the dogs dared to challenge the two direwolves.

As the night continued, their table got rowdier and rowdier as everyone seated drank more and more wine, and the stories got more and more outrageous. Domeric, clearly having drank more than he should have, began to retell a tale from his and Rodrik's time in The Vale, though it was something that Rodrik wished that Domeric would forget about.

His words slurred and partly incoherent, Domeric began, "We were sparing, Rodrik and I, against Mychel and Jon Redfort. Lord Redfort wanted to see how his youngest two sons would fare against his squires. Always the better swordsman, Rodrik chose to spar against Jon, older than us by a number of years, we expected he would be the better swordsman of our foster brothers, Mychel was a tiny, scrawny boy of twelve. Then, two minutes later, Rodrik forced Jon's surrender, and tiny little Mychel had disarmed me with ease, some little prodigy with the sword, apparently. Anyway, it's Rodrik, recently knighted, against tiny little Mychel, two years younger than us, still a squire to some Corbray I can't remember."

Dom took a moment to raise the bottom of his wine cup to the ceiling as he drained it of it's tart riverlander wine, Rodrik and Dom's wine of choice, before he continued, "Rodrik had proven a year before this that he was the best swordsman in The Vale, he's damned good, and showed up every knight that Lord Redfort invited to duel him, and had won a couple hundred gold dragons off of bets placed on when Rodrik would finally lose a duel."

"Well, tiny little Mychel didn't seem to stand a chance against Rodrik, until Rodrik tripped over his own feet, and dropped his sword on the ground, so Mychel quickly claimed the victory, and Lord Redfort was out the hundred gold dragons he had bet against his own son!"

Domeric and Jon laughed along with the squires as they pictured the outwardly stoic Rodrik tripping over his own feet to lose a duel. Jon in particular had downed as much wine as Domeric, and judging by the red tint to his face, he was just as drunk, though he preferred summerwine that the royal party had brought up from the Reach.

It was as the table began to calm down, that Jon and Rodrik's uncle Benjen approached the table, asking them, "Are those two of the direwolves that I have been hearing so much about?" Jon responded, "Yes, Ghost and Rodrik's wolf Anogar." Jon had been petting Ghost's head, stopping when Benjen ruffled his hair in much the same way, nodding a greeting to Rodrik. A squire moved down the bench, creating room next to Jon for Benjen to sit, who straddled the bench so he could face both of his nephews.

Benjen studied the two direwolves curiously, "They are both rather quiet for wolves."

Jon nodded his head, "These two are different from the others, I named mine Ghost for always being quiet. Rodrik chose Anogar, apparently it means blood in Valyrian."

Benjen accepted the answer, before asking another question, "I had expected to see you both seated with the rest, by the platform; do you not usually eat with them?"

Rodrik laughed, "Aye, usually we will. But tonight, Lady Stark believed it would insult the royal family to seat two bastards among them, though it is not much of a loss, these lads are good company. And she isn't here to limit our wine, either."

Benjen laughed as well, "Then there is good in it. My brother seems unusually quiet tonight."

It was less a statement as it was a question, so Jon responded, "The Queen is angry too."

Rodrik nodded, "As soon as the royal party arrived, the King made Uncle Eddard take him down to the crypts, though it angered Queen Cercei considerably."

Benjen leveled a careful look at Jon, then at Rodrik, "You two do not miss much, do you? We could use men like you on the Wall."

Under his uncle's praise, Jon swelled with pride, "Robb is better with the lance, and Rodrik is better than I with the sword, but I sit a horse as well as he does, and Father says that together, we are the best swordsmen and riders in Winterfell."

"They are achievements to be proud of."

Jon continued, "Take me with you when you go back to the Wall. Father will give me leave to go if you ask him, I know he will."

Benjen shook his head slightly, studying the looks on Jon and Rodrik's faces, "The Wall is a hard place for a boy, or even a young knight."

Rodrik shook his head at the eagerness of his cousin, "I have no desire to join the Night's Watch, my place is in The North, one cousin will be Lord of Winterfell, and this one," he grabbed Domeric's shoulder, "will be Lord of the Dreadfort, while my mother is Lady Dustin of Barrowton, and my grandfather on her side is Lord of the Rills, to be followed by my uncle. I will live my life to serve them, I have purpose here, as Jon would if he were not so stubborn."

Benjen noticed the young Bolton for the first time, taking in his long brown hair, icy blue eyes and clear drunkenness, though before he could apologize to the future Lord, Jon turned to Rodrik, "You have family you can serve, and you are a knight, I am nothing here. Perhaps I would live my life to serve Father and Robb, but they have Bran and Rickon, and yourself. I have no one else, and I am not wanted here in Winterfell."

Rodrik snapped at Jon, "Is serving your brother not a noble enough cause? He will be Lord of Winterfell one day, and who else but his brothers should be beside him? Lady Catelyn can dislike you as much as she likes, but it does not make you any less wanted by every other person in this family. You and I are almost the same, we will not hold lands, or be given a holdfast to rule in our family's name, and we will not marry. We will serve, better we serve our family here, than abandon them to guard a giant wall of ice from wildlings and grumpkins and snarks."

Rodrik rose quickly, Domeric and Anogar following him on his way out. Rodrik knew he had spoken harshly, insulting both his cousin and his uncle with his mostly drunken fueled tirade. But at the moment, he could not care. Jon had confided in him a year prior that he wished to leave for the Night's Watch, and every effort to dissuade him had ended in failure. It infuriated Rodrik that his cousin wished to throw away his life, while his reasoning reflected everything that Rodrik himself feared.

As they exited the hall, Domeric called out to Rodrik, "Wait, Rodrik! We should go back in, and you should apologize, Jon was hurt badly by your words."

Turning back around to face Domeric, Rodrik's drunken anger turned towards his other cousin, "You would talk about being hurt by words? I found out why you are really here in Winterfell, and why you wouldn't tell me about it! My mother is giving you Lordship of Barrowton! My only prospect in life was to be named the Heir to Barrowton, I grew up there, my father fostered there. The people respect me and would likely have accepted me as their Lord one day! But she gave it to you!"

Domeric was stunned that Rodrik had known about it, and hadn't said anything at all during the feast, "I did not ask for this, Rodrik. It was your mother's choice, not my own. And it is not even final, but if I am named Lord of Barrowton, than I will name you my heir. Our lives will play out as they will, do not blame me for it! I would take it back in a moment, if Aunt Barbrey had not sent the request to Lord Eddard before informing me of her decision. That was the reason that I was brought to Winterfell in the first place, your uncle wanted to judge my character before he made his decision; that is how long that she has been planning this, her and my father both."

It was then Rodrik's turn to be stunned, and he was unable to come up with a response, as Anogar brushed against his leg, so Rodrik crouched to pet the wolf, to distract himself. Taking a deep breath, Rodrik realized how drunk that he was, and shook his head, "I am sorry, Dom, I am drunk and not thinking clearly. I need to retire for the night."

Without waiting for a response, Rodrik turned away from his cousin and walked away, knowing that he was likely going to lie awake in his bed all night, troubled by the recent events, 'Or I can find something more to drink, until I am so drunk that I pass out.'

Author's Note: Okay, so this is sort of a rewrite of my story. I was dissatisfied with the way that I wrote the first five and a half thousand words of the previous version, and that I followed the show instead of the books, so finally, I have written something that follows the books more than the show. If you are a new reader, you can totally disregard this note. Please review or message with comments or questions.