A.N. I in no way, shape, or form own any rights to anything... Ownership of the plot is a little iffy too! Also, made some minor changes to the story as I updated on AO3, hope I got them all on here!

Chapter 1

No one knew when it began, like most of Westeros's most beloved traditions the source of it had been lost to the tides of time. Once a decade, the greatest fighters of the realm would gather at the seat of power and battle for supremacy, with a contest lasting no less than 30 days. According to the Maesters, a little over 400 years ago the contest lasted three full turns of the moon, the longest contest since the time of the First Men.

Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North and descendent of the First Men, beheld the arena below him. The Dragon Pit, a massive structure that once held the dragons of the Targaryen empire, was an imposing structure of an era long since past. Located just outside of King's Landing, the reigning seat of power for the unified kingdom of Westeros, it looked as though it could easily seat all the peoples of the city, with room to breathe. He let out a sigh, hands grasping the low stone wall at the top of the arena, and gazed down to the dirt floor. At a respectable age of 4 and 30, this would be his last turn as a participant of the Grand Tourney, a fact which he could not tell if it pleased or saddened him.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing up here Ned?" King Robert Baratheon gazed at the visage of his oldest friend, taking in the slight wrinkles around his eyes, the gentle stoop of his broad shoulders and the long length of his frame, bent nearly in two for his inspection of the arena floor from the highest level of the pit.

Straightening quickly, Ned turned to bow. "Just checking the arena, Your Grace."

"Come off Ned, don't you go bowing to me now. Save that shit for the pompous bastards of court. Fucking useless, the lot of them."

Unable to hold back his laugh, Ned shook his head and grasped his friend's arm in greeting. "Good to see you haven't changed a bit Robert. How fares the Queen, Prince and little Princess?"

With a grunt and shake of his head, his disdain clearly read, Robert managed to answer with a grumbled "Good, good... Damn woman won't stop shrieking about everything. Appointed her brother to the King's Guard, maybe that will make her quiet. If she's not coddling the children, then she's trying to take my hearing with her shrill voice."

With a grimace Ned could only nod, unable to offer any advice for him. His own wife was much quieter in her displeasures. As soon as she knew Ned was participating this year, Catelyn had made her opinion very clear with a cold and empty bed when he had retired for the night. Catelyn was a gentle Southern lady of Riverrun, a region not known for their fighting prowess. She barely tolerated the North's yearly games, and refused to view the great games entirely.

"What of your own bride? I hear you've had another daughter, and already put another in your wife's belly! She keeps you nice and warm on those cold northern nights, ey?" A quick knock with an elbow and a lascivious grin are all Robert can manage before a small voice pulls the men's attentions.

"Father!"

"Robb! What are you doing here? Where is your mother and Septa?"

A rather gangly auburn haired boy of 9 came to a stop before his father, bright blue eyes glittering with mischief. "Mother is with Sansa, working on their sewing, again. Septa Roslin is with Arya taking a nap! Is this the Dragon Pit? It's so big! Are you going to fight? Is that why Mother is sleeping in Sansa and Arya's bed? Why-"

A gruff "Robb!" Was his only answer.

"Yes Father?"

"How did you get here?"

A small foot started to scuff the ground, a small face scrunched in a forced look of innocence. "Jory brought me."

Loud guffawing drew the attention of the two Starks. "Uncle Robert!"

Robb received a quick scuff to the back of the head before he executed a quick bow. "Uh, I mean Your Grace."

Robert waved him off. "None of that now, lad. How'd you manage to escape all the way out here?"

A sheepish Robb ducked down his head, mumbling his answer. "I... exploring... tunnel... skulls... camp."

Sharing a confused look with Robert, Ned knelt down and tilted his son's head up. "Speak clear and do not mumble Robb. Now answer true, how did you get here?"

With a grimace Robb took a deep breath and began his tale of exploration. Finding a hidden door behind the wardrobe in his parent's solar, following the winding branching path down to a large tunnel filled with ancient dragon skulls, before finding the exit next to the river the majority of the contestants were camping at just outside the pit. "And then I saw the arena at the other side of the camp and I just had to come and see if it was the Dragon Pit!"

Nothing of his face betrayed the thoughts currently flying through Ned Stark's head, or the headache that was already beginning to grow. Finally a slow sigh escaped his lips. "Come along son, we best get back before your mother discovers you missing. Robert, by your leave I shall return this stray to his mother."

"Go easy on the boy Ned, nothing wrong with a bit of adventure! But by all means, return him. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of Catelyn Starks sharp tongue! I'll see you at the opening feast!"

With that the two Starks bowed to their King and took their leave, nodding to the guards that accompanied him, and starting the long trek back to their guest rooms at the Red Keep.