A Song of Sith and Thrones (A ASOIAF/GoT SI) by Delkatar

Words: 71k+

Link: -https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/a-song-of-sith-and-thrones-a-asoiaf-got-si.333084/

ASOSAT: Prologue

AN1: Thanks to a plot bunny, another story was born. The part about Star Wars in the disclaimer is because I'm using my SI character from my story Rogue Knight. You don't have to read it in order to know what is happening here. Doing so would only help explain some things about my SI's character and his motivations earlier than it would be otherwise revealed within this story.

If someone is afraid of it, no my SI here won't be a Force wielding juggernaut. He no longer has access to the Force and any nice tricks related to it.

I am looking for beta readers for this story.

Please, support me on Parteon if you enjoy my stories!

AN2: I'm finally done with the overhaul of the story and I'm in the process of uploading the updated chapters and fixing the threadmarks. I've shifted the original chapters in apocryfia instead of removing them. Use the threadmarks to go to the overhauled chapters after the prologue.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Game of Thrones. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is written without profit in mind. I make no money from it.

Prologue: A new prince in the Red Keep

=Sith=​

Red Keep

King's Landing

I stared at my "mother" and siblings, who were waiting me for breakfast, or to break our fast as they say around here. We were in Cersei's chambers, which while tastefully decorated in vivid crimson and bright gold, left a lot to be desired. While things could be worse, I could have ended up stuck into a commoner without the Force to back me after all. Nevertheless, even royal chambers from such a primitive age were a far cry from the luxuries I had grown accustomed to. From all the stunts my "favorite patron" had pulled off, this had to take the cake. She even did this for my own good you see. I needed vacation she told me, then I awoke into a bloody stinking drafty castle.

I had to keep repeating in my head that awakening in the Royal suites of the Red Keep was much better than the alternatives considering I found myself without the Force, any magic or cybernetic enhancements. I was just a man, a growing teenager really, which didn't do my prospects of reaching the respected old age of twenty any favours.

On the bright side, at least my new body was in an incredible shape when you consider the more or less medieval setting, but still...

It could be worse, much worse, I chanted in my head while carefully studying most of my closest family in this world. Cersei was a stunning blonde who wore her years well, my little sister resembled a bit thinner, younger copy of our mother, and Tommen, well… he was a short blond lad who looked at the set up table with ill disguised interest. Finally, there was Joff, my other brother, the little psychopath. He was the Crown Prince too and a significant obstacle to me staying alive in the long run if the little I remembered about this world was in fact true. At least I had a bit of time, no matter how borrowed it was, before all hell broke loose. Did I mention that all of us had one specific thing in common? Yeah, we were all blond fucking bastards, which as far as I was concerned meant that I was already on a borrowed time.

Well, needs must. I plastered my best fake smile on my face, gave a friendly wave to my new family and headed for the table, hoping that the bloody food wouldn't be poisoned. While two of my siblings were obviously happy to see me, even if in Tommen's case I was less interesting than the food, Joff was glarring daggers at me. I simply smirked at the little shit, wondering how soon I could arrange a very regretful and tragic accident for my dear older brother.

I wasn't sure what it said about me that half hour after awakening in this world I was already plotting kinslaying, then again, I did have the memories of Durran Baratheon, the lad whose body I ended up possessing, and everything I could recall pointed at the fact that only a handful of people would really miss Joff the little monster. I know, that was rich coming from a bloody Sith, however I simply couldn't help it.

I shook my head and walked to the table, while keeping my fake smile in place. I gave a respectful nod to my mother and went for the free seat on her left. Naturally, Joff was sitting to her right, the place of most respect, even though the little mad man deserved none. I just raised an eyebrow at my fuming big brother, being glad that my past self in this world hadn't spent too much time with him. As the second son, the Prince in whose body I now resided, had spent nearly half the year at Storm's end, the Baratheon's ancestral seat of power, being groomed as the next lord of the Stormlands… which was another clusterfuck I would have to deal with. Even worse, I had the vague suspicion that something like that wasn't supposed to happen – I had a muddy recollection of Uncle Renly being chosen to inherit the Castle and father's titles… I blinked at that thought and shook my head, hoping that sooner or later would become easier to separate the thoughts and memories of Durran from my own.

It wasn't all bad because at least Prince Durran Baratheon had been somewhat competent and reasonably nice kid (for a Westerossi noble) and didn't piss off the locals. However that might not matter in the end given our Lannister looks and questionable parentage. I would have to work hard to make sure there was no doubt that appearance aside I was a bloody Baratheon through and through, but that was for the not so distant future. I still had a breakfast to get through and all the clashing thoughts and memories running amok through my skull didn't help at all.

"Mother, how have you been, really? I know you said all was fine in the letters we exchanged." I asked, while carefully studying the Queen with concerned eyes.

I decided that playing the role of the dutiful and concerned son might be for the best at least until I could get my bearings, straighten up my head and begin building a proper power base. While winging it wasn't exactly my favourite modus operandi, it was often quite fun.

It was even better when I had the Force backing me up so I could get out of any unfortunate situation I ran into too. I shoved away this morose thought and picked up a cup of wine. Joy, being stuck in such a primitive place, drinking alcohol all day long every day might turn out to be the healthy thing to do. 'Lucky me.' I took a careful sip of the wine, which wasn't actually that bad and returned my full attention to my brand new mother.

"I'm fine, Durran." Cersei answered with a small smile forming on her face. "What about you? You've been stuck in the Stormlands for so long..."

The implication being that even being groomed for a Lord Paramount of the Stormlands in breach of certain important traditions wasn't good enough for someone of Lannister blood.

"Storm's End was all right, even if it isn't the Red Keep." I lied through my teeth. If my new memories were right, and I didn't have other things to worry about, being stuck over there ruling one of the Seven Kingdoms and keeping as far away from King's Landing and its stench would have been a great bargain. However, I wasn't that lucky. "How about you, Joff?" I kept my smile on and saluted my older brother with my cup.

Mother, this little shit, Little Finger, and a bunch of other imbeciles were going to tear the realm apart and likely get me murdered or worse unless I played their bloody game and won, and that would simply not do. Besides, as a King I would be in a better position to make this shithole into something vaguely resembling bearable place to live. I hoped so anyway.

My loving psycho of a brother merely glowered at me and buried his face into a cup of ale. And this, ladies and gentlemen, was supposed to be our next King. Over my cold dead body.

I turned my attention to brother number too, who was too busy devouring a passable rendition of a cake to be interested in anyone else. Sibling number three was delicately nibbling on a piece of steaming bread generously covered with honey and watched me with sparkling eyes.

"What about you, Cella? How have you been, my little Princess?" The mere sight of my little sister, who incidentally was the only sibling Durran actually loved, turned my smile into a genuine one. He didn't have much patience for Tommen and his antics, which were centered around chasing cats and playing with them if he caught them, and the less said about Joff and his habits, the better.

"I'm well, big brother." Cella answered after swallowing her bite, and acting like the proper little lady.

I was beginning to figure out that I got the full package from Durran, memories, emotions, everything, which if indeed true, was going to be both a blessing and a curse. Cella was innocent little girl, I loved her to bits and had the overwhelming need to keep her safe and strangle everyone and anyone who looked at her the wrong way.

That was going to be a complication…

I took a piece of warm bread and began buttering it while trying to calm down my racing thoughts. Possible threats and people who I needed to get rid off, not to mention problems that needed fixing yesterday, possible assets, the nucleus of a few plans… Well, as far as threats went, those were more than I could remember from the top of my head, however at least half the members of the Small Council qualified at this time. There were the Targaryens across the sea, the zombie army that would sooner or later march south, my parentage and the war that it might spark…

I took up a fork and stabbed an inoffensive piece of cheese and took a bite of it, still trying and failing to focus my thoughts. My eyes ran across the room, taking in the absurdly old fashioned furniture and tapestries the likes of which I hadn't seen outside a museum in decades. All the red reminded me that if I played my cards right I could enjoy the backing of one of the most powerful and capable people on the continent, who also happened to be my grandfather so that was one serious boon. I could recall that my father and Tywin Lannister used to argue through raven post TM about my future. My grandfather wanted me as a possible heir to Casterly Rock in case his nephews didn't prove themselves competent enough. That would have led to either Tommen replacing me as the prospective heir of the Stormlands or even better for the stability of the realm, he could inherit something else while one of my Uncles got the Lordship and Lord Paramountcy as if was their due.

That idea brought my thoughts to a halt. I couldn't recall what exactly possessed father to make me the heir of Storm's End with all that entailed, and that might actually be quite important for my continued well-being. For certain, figuring out that little mystery would be yet another thing to deal with in the foreseeable future.

Finally, I managed to calm down my racing thoughts to properly concentrate on the here and now.

"Mother, to what do we own the honor?" I asked.

Ever since Durran had turned fourteen, such family breakfasts were no longer an almost daily ritual. Cersei had been too busy doting on Joffrey, making him even bigger spoiled brat than he used to be, while the Durran began spending a lot of time around Renly and Ser Barristan Selmy, who was his primary tutor in sword combat.

Cersei interrupted my musings.

"The hand of the King had gotten sick all of a sudden," she informed us in a sweet tone.

Oh, shit. I thought I had more time to plot and prepare.

"That is tragic," I supplied in a neutral tone.

"Indeed, Durran." Mother said, though you couldn't tell she was in any way disturbed by this turn of events by the way she spoke. In fact, she appeared quite pleased.

"What's the big deal?" scoffed Joff.

I rolled my eyes at him and even mother gave him a look that might have held the tiniest hint of disapproval.

"Who could become the next Hand of the King if the worst happens, the Seven forbid? That is the issue," I said, giving him something to think about and winning a nod of approval from Cersei.

While Joff was trying to make his two brain cells rub together, I speared another piece of yellow cheese with my fork and started chewing carefully. This one was edible as well.

"Grandfather of course!" exclaimed Joff.

I almost choked on the cheese and had to hastily wash it down with wine. As if. I was well aware, as everyone who paid any attention, that Robert wasn't too thrilled with the Lannisters having as much influence within King's Landing as we currently held. Making Tywin Lannister the Hand of the King, well that was going to happen when the Seven Hells froze over. Even if I didn't have some knowledge about a possible future, the logical choice at least in father's mind would be Eddard Stark.

Stark, he honorable northern man. That poor sod would have no idea in what he would be getting himself into if he accepted the position. It was more likely than not that I would be one of the people plotting against him. If he was truly as honorable as the show and the common knowledge I could now recall indicated about the man, he would be an enemy if, when the secret went out, which was too bad. Under most circumstances Stark would be one of the few people in this wretched world I could trust, however as things stood I did like my head to remain firmly attached to its rightful place, thank you very much. Preferably with a crown on it in the future too.

My crazy older brother notwithstanding, I had it too good to risk loosing all the power and security my position could give me even while Robert was still alive. That reminded me, I needed to have a hear to heart conversation with mother and "uncle" Jamie, about regicide among other bracing topics. I had no illusions how the King would react if the truth ever got out while he was still drawing breath. In such a case, my best bet would be either to flee to Essos or taking the Black. If I was really lucky that is and I had no intention of either baking in the desert of freezing my balls on the wall waiting for the zombies to come and try eat my face.

I took a sip of wine lamenting the lack of Kaf and looked at Joff.

"Unlikely, brother. If Jon Arryn doesn't recover, father's choice for his next Hand lies north," I stated the obvious.

My mother nodded absentmindedly. It was obviously that she was plotting something, though that was nothing new. She was always doing so.

"Eddard Stark!" she almost spat the name. "He would be troublesome!"

How interesting. One would think that she wouldn't be too pissed off with such a choice. Grandfather was clearly out for now as a contender for the position and speak whatever you will about Stark, but there were much worse choices for a Hand of the King. At least speaking from the point of view of our family.

"Perhaps," I agreed. "On the other hand, there are other people who we would like even less as the Hand of the King."

"There is something else..." Cersei trailed off. "Ever since you left for Storm's End last year, your father has been making noises about finding you and Joffrey wives."

"Ah. How interesting!" I exclaimed, adding just the right amount of false cheer in my voice.

It really didn't fool anyone, but Joff, who was pouting. Cella giggled at me while struggling with a piece of lemon cake and my mother even allowed herself a small, amused smile.

"Any idea who are the lucky ladies?" I asked. Though whoever had to marry Joff would be very unlucky gal if he lived long enough for such an occasion. Needless to say, that wasn't something I was willing to allow. Giving my brother chance to spawn wasn't good idea on so many levels…

"The Tyrell girl and one of the Starks…"

"Well, well... That's actually not too bad an idea," I thought aloud.

Cersei frowned at me, even though the reasoning should be obvious. The Lannisters and the Starks weren't best of friends, especially after Tywin's stunt with the previous royal family. Which reminded me, the Mountain needed to die in order to patch up relations with Dorne or at least buy us some more time before they did something regrettable.

"I can see why father wants a marriage with the North. It's no secret the bad blood existing between the Lannisters and Starks. Then there is the Tyrell's ambitions to think about. Binding them to us would have many benefits." I thought aloud.

Mace Tyrell, no to mention his mother, the Queen of the Roses, they wanted close ties with the royal house. They would love if Margery became the next Queen, which would benefit us a lot as well. Such a union would give us a greater access to the Reach, with its food, money and equally importantly armies... Besides, that would placate the Tyrells, making them less likely to try fucking up with us too much and help secure their position as well. Not to mention that Durran had fallen hard for Margery and I inherited his crush, which was another double edged blade to deal with.

"So, how has it been around here? Anything too interesting you didn't write about?" I asked, changing the topic.

I wasn't up to speed with the more current events in King's Landing. I got dumped in Dorran's head last night, just after he came back from Storm's End. That thought sent my mind racing again.

The Stormlands currently were another can of worms. While, Renly liked me, he was far from thrilled that soon enough I was supposed to be replacing him as the acting Lord of the Stormlands. Technically it was about time, with both myself and Joff being of age for the past couple of years.

"Not really. I wrote you about everything of importance," Mother informed me.

She did write, sending me ravens at least weekly while I was away from the snake pit, though roughly half of those letters contained gossip and useless trivia instead of anything even remotely useful.

The rest of the breakfast passed in relative silence while we had some utterly trivial small talk, disrupted only by Joff's whining about marrying a northern savage.

=Sith=​

Queen's Chambers

Red Keep

King's Landing

Eventually Joff went to torture something or someone, and my other siblings left to meet their tutors, which left me to have a private conversation with mother. We retreated to her private chambers, which were rather well furnished, when you take into account the general tech level of Westeross. In practice, even the luxury of the Royal quarters within the Red Keep couldn't make up for the lost high tech comforts someone from a world like twenty first century Earth, not to mention the Corcusca galaxy, would take for granted.

We went deep within Cersei's sanctuary after she chased out her serving girls. Once we were reasonably sure of our privacy, I turned towards my mother and frowned. This was going to be one unpleasant conversation.

Before broaching the subject of murder and treason, I walked around, looking for eavesdroppers and hidden passages where someone could be hiding. Cersei noticed my actions and looked confused for a moment, before figuring out what I was doing and pointing me in the right direction. There was no one skulking around in either of the three secret passages leading out of the Queen's chambers.

"What is so important that you take such precautions, my son? While I'm glad you are taking the Game seriously enough, I can't help, but wonder what have you go to such lengths to secure a private conversation." Cersei's tone betrayed her sudden worry.

"Oh, I'm sure you know well enough, mother," I almost sneered at her, though I was able to barely keep my expression and voice neutral. "I know," I declared.

My only answer was a raised eyebrow.

"Who is my real father. And my siblings'…"

Those words got me a reaction. Oh, they did.

Cersei blanched and looked wildly around us. The shocked look on her face, the way she became deathly pale, they were telling. But in the end, it was her eyes which told me the truth. Yeah... I got the confirmation I needed in order to proceed planning multiple murders.

"We need to have a looong conversation, mother..." I smiled at her.

If the way her eyes widened was anything to go by, she wasn't reassured by my expression.

=Sith=​

"The morning Jon Arryn died, the Game of Thrones changed. A new player marched on the board and from then on, I was certain of only one thing. My Prince would be King even if we had to wade through rivers of blood to make that dream a reality!"

- Ser Marrek Storm, Sworn Shield of Prince Durran Baratheon

"It's a small thing, really. I didn't think that Jon Arryn knew the truth. Even if he did, it died with him. I truly believed that. However, in the end, it simply didn't matter. Some of us thought that he died of sickness. Others, that he was poisoned. The truth, well it was irrelevant, you know. The Hand of the King was dead so obviously, the King needed a new Hand... We were to prepare for a journey to the North.

Winterfell... That's where everything changed…"

- Ser Jamie Lannister, Kingsguard