Iron Throne High School

Chapter 1

Robb POV

I stare at the slanted ceiling above the back staircase of our house, memorising every last chip in the plaster, every coffee stain whoever was cleaning the ceiling tried their best to hide, every stray cobweb between the wooden beams, remnants of my family's past, stretching back thousands of years. A younger Robb Stark probably wouldn't have been this anxious. He was never the kid to let the beginning of his final year at school faze him. He was too brave for that, too caught up in continuing the honour of the Stark family to let anything scare him. But, the man who I am now, who sits on the stairs and gazes at the ancient ceilings of his house while losing sleep at two in the morning, is not that Robb.

Because this past summer, that Robb left. And it doesn't look like he's coming back.

I hear a sound, the first significant sound in the hour or so I've been sitting here. Someone's footsteps descend onto the stair above mine. And almost robotically, as most movements are at this hour, a hand reaches out to my shoulder.

"Mother?" I say, my mouth dry from a combination of thirst and my unfamiliarity with speaking, an activity I haven't participated in during this sleepless night, and have tried to avoid partaking in too much these past few weeks.

She looks at me out of her intense, blue-grey eyes, which hold worry and concern, but perhaps also something darker, something she'd rather hide. My mother holds a quiet, warm smile during the mundane moments of life, but that is not the expression she holds now. Now her face displays something more menacing. And it's her face that tells me she isn't just here to tell me to get some sleep, which in my current state of mind will be impossible. She understands the emotions I've harboured since it happened, and won't suggest something that won't help, or tell me something I don't already know. Whatever she has come to talk to me about, it's dangerous enough that I am compelled to listen simply by looking at her.

"Robb," she replies, after some time. "I'm not here to tell you about how hard what happened to your father was for you. You know, better than anyone. You've been told this a thousand times, by your friends, by passers-by, even online by people in school you barely know, but I'll say it again. You can get through tomorrow, and the rest of the year. Ned being gone shouldn't stop you. But there is something you should know."

Anxiety sweeps over me. "What?"

"Your father's death may not have been the accident the police made it out to be."

Now it's less anxiety, but confusion, that sweeps over me. "What? No. It can't be. It wasn't a 'unusual circumstance', or whatever they call it. Drunken driver swerves off course at the corner of Casterly Road, and hits the car ahead of him. They say that corner's the hardest driving manoeuvre you can attempt in Westeros. That same story's been told a thousand times."

My mother sighs, and says, "It's fitting you should call it a 'story' that's been 'told', because that's exactly what it is. The police were bribed to cover up the 'unusual circumstance' you speak of, and in turn the forensic detective-types were bribed to turn a blind eye to anything that looked suspicious. And who was behind it? The Lannisters."

I furrow my eyebrows at her quizzically. "OK, I get that Joffrey has bullied me and the others since kindergarten, and his mother doesn't exactly do anything to stop it, but is that enough to warrant murdering our father?"

Another, almost condescending, sigh ensues. "And why doesn't Cersei ever scold her son, or even apologise on his behalf? Because the same thing happened when our generation attended Iron Throne High, and the same with our grandfathers and great-grandfathers before us. The Lannisters and the Starks are the most powerful and successful families in this town, and they have hated each other since before any of us were alive, and will continue to do so until and after we all are dead. It's a cycle, and the next step in the cycle seems to be murder." She says the final line with an air of resignation.

I have never been particularly good at articulating myself, and now is no exception; there's a lot of information to take in, and it changes how I perceive everything: my father's death, my family, the Lannisters…the list goes on. But a few questions do stand out. "How does this affect how I act at school tomorrow? Around Sansa, Arya and Bran? Around Joffrey?"

My mother gives me that intense, dangerous stare again, and says the most forceful thing she's said all night. "Keep your mouth shut," she says coldly, her commanding tone freezing me for a second, "Pretend you know nothing. I would have waited to tell you, but when the truth comes out, it'll work to our favour to have both of us in on the Lannisters' secret. But even now, I can't be sure I even know the whole truth, or any of the truth at all. But if I am reading the situation right, you'll be ready when the Lannisters make their next move, however subtle it may be. Keep both eyes open."

At this, her face returns to its usual kind mask, and sweeps her auburn locks behind her ear, both physically and mentally tidying herself up. "You will make it through tomorrow" is her parting line, as she makes her way back up the stairs, and I resume my staring at the ceiling, but now with an even more conflicted mind.

A/N: So that's that. My first proper fanfiction. As in most AU fanfictions, some of the characters might possibly become OOC, but I'll try my best :). The story will probably be centered around the Starks for the next few chapters, but I'll definitely incorporate Daenerys's POV and some others later on. It's also not set in stone where the story might go, so I will consider any ideas you might have. For now, I don't want to be one of those authors always begging for reviews, but I'd love to hear your thoughts! - C