A/N: I know that this is not exactly an correction but I thought it would be interesting to show you guys my thoughts of what Jon was thinking in that farewell scene. Almost the entire chapter goes according to script, so if you don't like that, I suggest you skip it. The next chapter will be written about the Jon and Dany scene, in a way that I think would make sense. It might not seem like Jon's character to have thoughts like this, so remember this is just my interpetation of the stuff that went down. Also, tell me if you guys are interested in seeing my version of season 8...
Jon walked silently down the street. He was flanked on all sides by guardsmen, who were there to discourage him from trying to escape. He stared at their stone-cold faces, which showed no emotions. Jon recognized two of them as northmen while the other few were Targaryen men.
Fucking Cunts. After everything I have done for them. Escaped death, fought a fucking ice dragon and saved them from a tyrant queen and this is how they treat me? Like a piece of shit on the floor? I saved them from death. A little bit of fucking gratitude would be great.
But Jon kept his disturbing thoughts to himself. They were at the docks now, close to the ship that would take him to the end of the world. Jon glanced sideways and caught the look of Grey Worm. The eunuch stared at him with so much have that Jon thought that he would leap from the ship he was on and drive a spear into Jon's gut. But Jon didn't blame him. Grey Worm was raised a slave, trained to follow orders and ask no questions. He had just lost the love of his life and was in no condition to be rational. Jon turned and continued his walk in silence.
Jon walked past the ruins of former glorious buildings as he silently approached a small solitary boat that would take him to serve his punishment for saving the world. He stopped and exhaled. His three remaining siblings were all lined up, waiting to greet him.
Bran, no longer the small boy he was, sat in his wheelchair glumly with a blank expression. Jon never considered this...thing to be his brother. The Bran that he knew had a lively face full of emotion. Whatever he was now, Jon was sure that Bran would never be the little brother who looked up to him.
Sansa stood there, as beautiful as ever, dressed in a silver gown decorated with the grey direwolf of House Stark. Jon looked at her proud expression and high chin. Power hungry bitch. Sneaked in to seize power for herself. All that time in captivity had turned her into something even worser than Cersei Lannister. Jon could almost not even recognize her. He could see the steel in her eyes, betraying no emotions.
And his Arya stood the last. She was a woman now, all grown up with her hair tied back in a bun. Arya was the one who reminded Jon of Ned Stark the most. She had her sword Needle and her Valyrian Steel dagger strapped to her waist. That made Jon smile. Even now, she's prepared to kill someone. Sansa moved forward andArya followed her, pushing Bran's wheelchair as they moved to meet Jon.
"I wish there had been another way." Sansa said sadly. "Can you forgive me?"
For what? Letting Grey Worm exile me to the Night's Watch after doing precisely what you wanted? For ruining my life? Even when Dany was alive I was not sure whether you were on my side.
"The North is free thanks to you." Jon said, ignoring her question.
"But they lost their king." Sansa spoke in a sad tone. Aren't you happy about that?
"Ned Stark's daughter will speak for them." Jon said slowly. If only it were the younger one. "She's the best they could ask for."
Sansa smiled sadly and moved in to hug him. Jon accepted it gratefully. He inhaled the fresh scent of her ginger hair. May the gods grant her some wisdom, for if not, she will be the doom of us all. The other kingdoms would not like the fact that the North was granted independence and there will be conflict soon. The North will need a strong leader soon, and I hope that Sansa Stark more like her father than her mother.
Jon moved away and looked sadly into Arya's grey eyes. A tear was forming there, which genuinely shocked Jon as he had seen the woman that Arya had become and thought her incapable of this. Jon hugged her and moved on. the emotion was too much for him to bear.
"Your Grace." Jon addressed Bran, going down on one knee. "I am sorry that I wasn't there when you needed me."
Bran looked at him with empty eyes, "You were right where you were supposed to be."
The bastard must have planned everything. Telling me about my true parentage, not warning us about the future. And they say that no one evr wins the Game of Thrones.
Jon moved onto the boat, where other men of the Night's Watch sat. Jon settled in as he prepared to sail far away from everything he cared.
"It should've been you, milord." A raspy voice spoke from behind him.
Jon turned to face aslight bald man with a beak of a nose. He spoke in a Bravosi accent "Pardon me?"
"The kingdom sould've been yours. All seven of 'em."
Jon shook his head. "I didn't want it."
"I know that." The man shook his head. "But you should've thought about what the Kingdoms wanted rather than what you wanted."
"Who are you?" Jon asked curiously.
"I was many things, my friend." The man said slowly. "I was the first sword of Bravos. I taught a young lady how to fight with a sword. I fought a knight of the Kingsguard and lived to tell the tale. But now, I'm no one."