Author's note:The first chapter of a story that has been going around in my head for the past while, the story of the trueborn Baratheon prince, Damon Baratheon. I'm not sure I'll even continue the story but you never know, I've some other chapters done and I might continue depending on reactions and even then, it won't begin properly anytime soon, I've exams next week and then a very busy summer full of part time jobs and some internships.

In a land where summers can last decades and winters a lifetime, trouble is brewing. The cold is returning, and in the frozen wastes to the north of Winterfell, sinister and supernatural forces are massing beyond the kingdom's protective Wall. At the center of the conflict lies the Prince Damon Baratheon, as proud as a lion and as powerful as a stag. Sweeping from a land of brutal cold to the southern kingdoms whom are enjoying a long summer, here is a tale of lords and ladies, soldiers and sorcerers, assassins and bastards, who come together in a time of grim omens.

Here a young prince must prepare for the worst as a cruel dragon prince barters his sister for an army half a world away, an ancient threat stirs from beyond the Wall, his family plots against their enemies and as his mother tries to hide a dark secret that must never come to light. Amid plots and counterplots, tragedy and betrayal, victory and terror, the fate of Prince Damon, his family, his friends, his allies, and their enemies hangs perilously in the balance, as each endeavors to win that deadliest of conflicts: the game of thrones.

The North was completely different from all the other kingdoms in Westeros, the endless amounts of snow that covered the ground like a white carpet. It was bleak yet the rolling hills and snowy fields had an attraction that Damon had never found in any of the other kingdoms. That attraction compelled Damon to ride out with nothing but his weapons and clothes on his back, to travel through the barrows of the First Men, to be free of the viper's nest that Damon had to call home. Even when he was at Casterly Rock, he was never free of the scheming politics but he was protected from it by his grandfather. But still, Tywin Lannister did teach him the art of manipulation so that he would never be some other person's pawn and he would always be his own player.

Damon reminisced about his time at Casterly Rock. He first saw the Rock when he was six years old, he felt tiny beside the splendour of the massive castle and when he came through the castle gates, he was greeted by the man he had heard so much about from his mother, Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. Damon felt tiny beside him, the man had a commanding presence that made Damon feel obliged to heed what he said and what he wanted Damon to do. Damon still remembered Tywin's intense gaze, as if he was judging Damon, Damon wanted to run back inside the wheelhouse to escape it. The Lord of the Rock welcomed the prince to Casterly Rock and he invited Damon to a feast in the great hall. Damon politely accepted the invitation and he was given a seat of honour at the high table, right beside his grandfather. He witnessed hundreds of people coming and going, paying their respects to their prince and their liege lord, Damon had made sure to say thank you every person who did, like he had seen mother doing to people who paid their respects to her and Damon's father. He had eaten as much as he could have for one night when his grandfather stood up and raised a toast to Damon and every person in the hall followed suit, Damon had to do his best to try and not blush.

Damon had arrived at the Rock terrified with shaking knees and he had went to sleep happy, happier than when he was at King's Landing. He woke up the next morning feeling bloated but he was taken to his grandfather's solar and when he arrived, he was told at what times he would be taught Westeros' history, at what times he would work with Tywin and at what times he would be able to practice swordfighting. Over the years, Damon had proven to be exceptional with numbers and history, especially the history of the wars of Westeros and the battles, even those that had happened hundreds of years before the unification of the Seven Kingdoms under Aegon the Conqueror. The young prince while being impressive in his studies, proved to be a prodigy with a blade, becoming the best swordsman at Casterly Rock at the age of three-and-ten, he would at times take on multiple opponents at once, so he could prepare for a real battle situation.

The black haired prince was taken back to King's Landing for his thirteenth nameday and it was revealed to him that he would not return to the Rock and that he would stay in King's Landing, much to Damon's dissatisfaction. Damon stayed in King's Landing for the next year until his fourteenth nameday and the next day, he rode back to Casterly Rock, leaving the the city of King's Landing in his dust. Damon made a tour of the Westerlands with his uncle Tyrion and great uncle Kevan, he travelled from the Banefort to Payne Hall, from Ashemark to Crakehall. He had met all of the Westerlands lords and knights and when he returned to Casterly Rock, Lord Tywin had revealed to Damon that he intended to name him as his heir when he came of age and the purpose of his tour of the Westerlands was to acquaint himself with the lords he would one day rule. Damon celebrated his fifteenth nameday at Casterly Rock and he travelled back to King's Landing but it wasn't long until he was leaving once again for a tourney at Highgarden, which he had competed in and was runner-up in the joust, being defeated the in final tilt by the Knight of Flowers. Soon after the tourney at Highgarden, Damon found himself on the familiar path leading him back to Casterly Rock.

He arrived at Casterly Rock and the next day he had to leave the Rock to travel to King's Landing for his brother's nameday. He had spent what little time he had on the edge of the cliffs of Casterly Rock, Damon still remembered how the ocean had lit up when the sun the was setting, the sky was ablaze with sunlight, a myriad of gold and copper, the waves of the Sunset sea were crashing against the high cliffs of Casterly Rock. Trading ships were sailing into Lannisport to sell their wares, they had come from all over, from the Free Cities, from the other kingdoms of the Iron Throne, he recognised the sigils of houses from the Reach from his time at Highgarden, sigils of the Crownlands, sigils of the Riverlords and the sigils of the Stormlords. Lannisport lit up, the stone of the port city basking in the sunlight and Casterly Rock stood tall, the grandest fortress in all the Seven Kingdoms, it stood as proud as the lion lords who had ruled there for thousands of years and one day, Damon would rule it all.

"Is something the matter, Damon?"

Damon looked over his shoulder to see his sworn shield, a knight formerly in service to his grandfather called Lucion Lannister. He was the son of Damion Lannister, the son of Damon Lannister, Lord Tywin's cousin by his uncle Jason. Lucion was not expected to do great things for House Lannister given his minor position and his distance from the main branch of House Lannister but when he proved himself to be one of the better swordsmen at the Rock, Tywin had made Lucion Damon's sworn shield. Lucion had bright golden blonde hair cut short, his eyes an outstanding blue that was the most eye catching aspect of him. He had thin lips, a strong jaw and he was gifted with the Lannister's attractiveness. Damon had known Lucion since he moved to Casterly Rock but they only grew close after Lucion became Damon's sworn shield. "Nothing is the matter", Damon replied, "I was just dreaming about Casterly Rock."

It had been four weeks since the King's company had departed from King's Landing for Winterfell in the North, with the entire royal family accompanying him. Six weeks prior, Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, had died from a sudden illness. Damon was riding atop his black destrier, Ebony, at the rear of the company with Ser Arys Oakheart and several of his own personal retinue. Damon's elder brother Joffrey was riding at the front of the column, an honour reserved for the crown prince while the second born was to ride at the back, leading the rearguard. Damon's father, King Robert rode behind the wheelhouse that held Damon's younger brother and sister, as well as his mother.

Lucion laughed, "We haven't even been away from the Rock for two months and you're already yearning to return," Lucion said, smiling.

"Ser Lucion speaks true, my prince, you have always wanted to return to Casterly Rock, no matter where you were or how long you had been gone from it," Ser Arys added, looking splendid in his white armour, his heavy woollen cloak as white as the snow on the ground. Ser Arys had accompanied Damon to Casterly Rock when he became his grandfather's ward, Damon believed that Ser Arys was the only one who was worthy to wear the white cloak, not including the Lord Commander. The rest were just his mother's puppets and Damon's uncle had soiled his cloak with the blood of the king he had sworn to defend. Alas, the kingsguard oaths were for life and you could not remove a white knight from the ancient order.

"Well, when you compare how cold it is here and how warm it is in the south, can you blame me?" Damon japed, earning a laugh from the two knights.

"Pray you never go to the Iron Islands then, Damon," Lucion smiled, "the winds there will make any man shiver in his boots."

"Can't be worse than this," Damon said, wrapping himself in his crimson cloak to keep the cold at bay. "We shall probably halt soon enough so my father can drink once more and tell us stories about his childhood at the Vale." The King could barely stop talking about his best friend Ned and their time at the Vale with each other and how they broke the Targaryens at the Trident, how they made the Ironborn bend the knee. That was the last time that the king had seen his friend, on the shores of Pyke. Damon had never met Eddard Stark so he wouldn't take his father's word for it, he would make his own judgement when he met the man, especially since everything his father said was contradicted by his uncle and mother.

"More likely that your mother's wheelhouse will break down before then," Lucion added, both of them laughed.

His mother's wheelhouse was ludicrously large, Damon didn't think that it would be able to fit through the gates of Winterfell. Damon had one similar when he left for Casterly Rock, not as large as his mother's but it was still massive. Damon loved that wheelhouse, he grinned at the memory, he probably would have still been in that wheelhouse if it wasn't for his grandfather. Lord Tywin had declared that Damon would never again ride in a wheelhouse, a prince should ride a top a horse, leading men and women. Damon had been forced to grow up quickly, act more like the prince that he was and the responsibilities that came with being a prince, but he still had some space for laughter and enjoyment, unlike his grandfather. Damon had never seen Lord Tywin smile except on one occasion when he had returned from his tour of the Westerlands, when he had revealed to Damon that it was his intention to name him as his heir after he came of age. His mother had the widest grin on her face when Damon revealed his grandfather's plan to her, her green eyes lit up with joy.

It wasn't long before Damon could see the ancient fortress of Winterfell on the horizon, it wasn't as large as King's Landing and it didn't look as impressive as Casterly Rock but Damon was still looking in wonder at the Stark castle. The people of Winterfell were lined up at the edge of the road and looked on in awe at the Lannister-Baratheon column as they left Winter Town and entered the castle of Winterfell. As Damon was at the back of the column, when he entered with Ser Arys, Lucion and his guardsmen, the people were already bowing before his father. The black haired prince dismounted once his father had told the people to rise. The entire Stark family were lined up in the front, his father was talking to a man who Damon assumed was Lord Stark and the woman beside him must have been Catelyn Stark for pmerly of House Tully. Their children were lined up beside them, most of them favoured their mother's colouring, the Tully colouring, auburn hair and deep blue eyes, except for one girl, who had a long face, grey eyes and brown hair.

Damon's mother had left the wheelhouse which had, surprisingly, fit through the gates, Myrcella and Tommen were beside her, while Joffrey was still atop his horse, his dog right behind him. His father had taken Lord Eddard to the crypts, to see the Lady Lyanna's tomb. Damon went to greet Lady Stark after his father walked around a corner, disappearing from view. "My Lady Catelyn," he said, leaning down and kissing her on the hand, "I hope you are well."

"My prince," the Lady of Winterfell curtsied, "I am, thank you." Lady Catelyn had fair skin, with long auburn hair and blue eyes. She was beautiful with high cheekbones.

Damon looked to Catelyn's left and and stepped in front of her son. He the tallest of all of them, so he must have been Robb. Robb's appearance favoured his mother's side, with a stocky build, blue eyes and thick red-brown hair. "You must be Robb," Damon said, grabbing Robb's forearm, "pleasure to meet you, I hope to test that swordarm of yours while I am here."

"Likewise, my prince," Robb said, grinning, "just so you know, I am one of the better swordsmen in Winterfell." Damon smiled, there was a dozen people who had beaten Damon in the past and he could probably beat half of them by now, but he would always accept a challenge.

Damon let go of Robb and turned to the girl beside him, she was beautiful, more beautiful than her mother. She took after her mother's family with her high cheekbones, vivid blue eyes and thick auburn hair. "My lady," Damon said, leaning down and kissing her on the hand, "a true pleasure."

She blushed, "Thank you, my prince," she curtsied, like her mother had. Damon assumed that this was Lady Sansa because she was taller than her other sister and, if Damon remembered correctly, Sansa Stark was Lord Eddard's eldest daughter.

Damon then moved onto the next Stark child, the only one to actually look like Eddard Stark with her long face, grey eyes and brown hair, she wasn't as pretty as her sister but she did have a wild beauty to her. "You must be the Lady Arya," Damon bowed, but she did not extend her hand like her mother and sister.

"Yes, I am," she said, Damon was slightly taken aback with her tone, it seemed that she wasn't just different in her appearance compared to her mother and sister. Her mother shot Arya a glare, "My prince," she half-curtsied, Damon smiled, amused at the youngest Stark daughter.

The young prince then stood in front of the next Stark child, once again favouring his mother's side, having thick auburn hair and deep blue eyes. He looked to be around Tommen's age, maybe slightly older, "You must be Bran," Damon said and Bran nodded, "should I be looking for you in the training yard?"

Bran smiled, "I'm not that good but I have been practicing a lot and I have been getting better."

"I am sure you have, I'll look for you in a couple years time at tourneys in the south, you will no doubt be a master in the lists," Damon smiled and mussed Bran's hair. Damon then looked for the final Stark child, Rickard or Rickon was his name, but he was nowhere to be found. Damon looked back to Robb, "Robb, would you mind showing all of the delights that Winterfell has to offer."

After the Stark heir had showed him the castle from top to bottom, dusk had come and they left each other to prepare for the feast. Damon replaced his riding leathers with a fine crimson tunic, with a golden pattern and a fur trimmed collar to keep the cold at bay. He placed his longsword in the corner of his room, he had not given his sword a name like Joffrey had done with his, Damon never named anything until it had proven his worth. The Royal Family were staying in Winterfell's guest house and Damon had been given the easternmost room, he had expected it to be freeezing with the stone walls but it was actually quite pleasant, if anything the room was warmer than his one in the Red Keep.

Soon enough, Damon found himself waiting outside the great hall of Winterfell, with Arya Stark by his side, behind them was Joffrey and Sansa, their arms linked together. It didn't take Damon long to discover that Arya had a greater interest in swords than needles and embroidery, everything a proper lady should do bored her as much as it did Damon. Arya interested Damon, she was different to all the other ladies of the south, it was an interesting change. Sansa on the other hand was extremely boring, she was the perfect lady and there was nothing interesting about her, the only thing that made her stand out was her beauty but half the ladies in the south were beautiful. Joffrey entered the great hall and Damon walked in behind him accompanied by Arya, behind Damon was Robb who was accompanying his sister in the hall. Myrcella had barely taken her eyes off the future Lord of Winterfell, his sister seemed quite taken with Robb which brought a smile to Damon's face, anyone who could make Myrcella happy made Damon happy. Damon noticed Sansa was gazing at Joffrey the same way Myrcella was at Robb. He turned from his siblings to find that Arya had been watching as well. She made a retching noise and Damon chuckled.

The doors of the great hall then swung open and Lord Stark and Damon's mother led the way in, following them was his father and Lady Stark, then the three youngest children walked in after them, Bran, Rickon and Tommen, then Damon accompanied Arya to the table below the high table, where there parents were sat. The both of them sat in their seats and watched the two remaining couples to follow behind them and take their seats. There was a short speech made by his father and then the feasting began.

The feast was an enjoyable affair, with delicious foods from across the North, different from the south but just as enjoyable, the only food he didn't touch was the fish, Damon abhorred any type of fish and just thinking about eating fish made him want to throw up his innards. After the first course and he offered Lady Arya a dance and she declined as he expected she would, she prefers the song of steel like me. Damon instead took Lady Jeyne Poole for a dance, she was giddy with excitement during their dance which led her to make many wrong steps. Damon danced with his mother and Lady Sansa, he then finally asked his sister for a dance.

They were both in the centre of the floor when the dance began, "Are you enjoying the feast, little sister?" He asked her.

Myrcella gave a beautiful smile, if there was one woman who was more beautiful than his mother, it was his sister. "Yes, Damon, I am enjoying it a lot."

"And what about Robb Stark?" Myrcella blushed when Damon mentioned the auburn haired Stark. "Do you like him?"

"Yes," Myrcella replied, shyly, "he's so handsome."

Damon smiled, "More handsome than me?"

His sister looked up at him, "No one is as handsome as you, big brother." Myrcella leaned into his chest, they both were in sync with one another, whenever Damon was in King's Landing he spent most of the time with Tommen and Myrcella. Myrcella did a twirl and they finished the dance together. Damon walked his sister back to her seat beside Robb and he returned to his seat where Arya was leaning on one arm, looking tremendously bored.

"Lady Arya, it looks to me that you are not enjoying the feast, may I ask why?" Damon said, taking a swig of mead from his tankard.

"It's not that I am not enjoying it, it is just that there is nothing to do," the young Stark girl explained, turning towards the black haired Baratheon prince.

"Well then, we shall have to remedy that immediately," Damon told her and her eyes had a curious glint to them. "Request something of me and I shall do it."

"Fine," Arya looked around the table and tried to think of something to get him to do. "I want you to give Jeyne Poole a kiss and not a little one, a big, wet one." Damon looked down the table to where Sansa was sitting and beside her was Jeyne. Damon looked at her and spotted that she was dreamily staring at him, when she noticed he was looking, she quickly looked away. Damon got up from his seat, walked over to Jeyne Poole gripped her upper arms and pulled her to her feet, she gasped and her cheeks went red, then he kissed her. Her lips were unmoving, perhaps from shock of kissing the prince, he wrapped his arms around her back and held her tightly, eventually she began to kiss him back and when they parted, she looked shocked and dazed at the same time. Damon turned around, not waiting for her to respond and he sat back down in his seat. He grinned at the Stark girl when he sat down and she seemed impressed.

Damon took another swig from his tankard, "Now, it's time for you to do something, I'll let it be of your choosing."

"I bet I can hit Sansa from here," Arya declared,

"But she's on the other side of the table," Tommen pointed out, "how can you hit her from here?"

"She means that she is going to hit her with some food," Damon whispered into his little brother's ear.

Damon didn't believe that she could get the distance needed to hit her sister, "Go on then", he challenged.

Arya got a piece of food from her plate and put it on her spoon, she closed one eye shut and aimed with the other. A few seconds later, Sansa was screaming about her dress and Arya was being marched off to bed, Damon couldn't stop himself laughing as Arya was being taken away by her older brother. He winked at her as she walked past.

Damon sat back and watch the commotion of the feast die down around him, people were beginning to pass out from drinking too much, Damon's father included. Damon had moved to his mother's side at the high table, she turned to him and said, "Be a dear and take your brother and sister to bed," cupping his face in her hands.

"Of course, mother dear," he kissed her hand and went to fetch Tommen and Myrcella. Myrcella was still looking longingly at Robb Stark when they left. He brought them to Winterfell's guest house and tucked them both into bed, kissing them both on the forehead, blowing the candle out in Myrcella's room and leaving one lit in Tommen's room. Damon contemplated returning to the great hall but decided against it and went to bed himself, the heat of his room sending him into a blissful peace.