A FEW MOONS PRIOR

Jon Snow stopped his horse at the crest of the ridge and stared at the sight ahead of him. A part of him thought he would never see Winterfell again, that he would suffer a fate similar to his grandfather, his uncle and his father. But he went south, then to beyond the Wall and back south. Now he returned to his home with barely a scratch.

The bulk of the forces he and Daenerys led were leagues behind, but, wanting to get the Queen to safety as soon as possible, he had led this party faster. Now, he was but a hill away, the Queen and many of their advisors with hm.

Daenerys reached his side, stopping next to him. He could tell by the look on her face that she was hesitating. She feared being feared herself, that she would be seen as a conqueror, not as someone who was here to help them defeat the army of the dead.

"It will be alright, your Grace," he reassured her. "We will stick to the plan when we meet with the Northern Lords, but I will see if Sansa can begin speaking to those who have been most loyal to me personally."

Daenerys turned to him, a soft expression on her face. "Yes, your Grace," she replied. It was a code they had decided upon, to play down the fact that he had bent the knee. He saw her turn and look at the two direwolves who had appeared two days before, then returned her gaze to Jon. "They seem as anxious to get home as you."

Now Jon looked at Ghost and who he assumed was Nymeria. He had remembered Sansa telling him what had befallen her own wolf, Lady, on the Kingsroad, and what had prompted it. Now, it seemed that just as Jon had found one of his siblings in the most unexpected of places, so too had Ghost. He smiled when those red eyes turned to him, as if asking permission of him to head for home. "Go on, boy. Alert the Keep that we have arrived." Ghost and Nymeria took off like a shot, yawolling the entire way to Winterfell.

The party followed and then, as if it no time had passed, the gates opened and Jon, Daenerys, Tyrion Lannister, Lord Varys, Davos Seaworth, Brienne of Tarth, Gendry Waters and the Hound passed through them, Ghost on one side and Nymeria on the other. And, in front of him, he found his family.

He had thought often of how he would react when he saw Arya. A part of him wanted to jump off his horse, run and scoop her up in his arms. He and Sansa had approached each other timidly, as if they could not believe their eyes, until they collapsed in each other arms. But that reflected a childhood that lacked any closeness, because of his status in the household, and Sansa's attitudes towards it.

But Arya was different. She was his defender with her mother, Lady Catelyn, and Jon returned the favors, as often as possible. Now she was standing there, beside Sansa and Bran, awaiting their brother. He dismounted from the horse, pausing, deciding what to do. Instead of going to them, he walked to Daenerys and aided her off her mount. They looked into each other's eyes but for a moment, then something unspoken passed between them. She knew how much he had waited for this reunion, and he loved her more because, with a simple nod, she allowed him to be free of his duty as her lord and be a brother.

Jon turned back to his family, and rushed to Arya. They were soon in each other's arms, near seven years of pain and loneliness bleeding away.

"Hello, little sister," he gasped out, trying to catch his breath as they parted.

A small smile graced her lips. "Hello, big brother," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

He looked her up and down, surprised by the straight posture, the calm air that seemed to surround her. It was so unlike her. But, he figured, they had all changed a lot from how they were when they left.

Her eyes shifted away from him to the creature to his right. They went wide as a name whispered on her lips. "Nymeria?" The wolf stared back at her before approaching slowly. Arya was just as cautious. At last, she held a hand out and Nymeria sniffed at it before giving it a few licks.

Jon couldn't help but smile. "She and Ghost came upon our camp from the south two days ago. He came right to me, but she stayed back, accompanying us the remainder of the journey."

But it seemed his sister heard nothing of what he said, so he turned to Bran. He was no longer the eager young boy, full of a benevolent mischief. The eyes that Jon saw were old, far older than any of them. It was an unsettling sight to see from his now-youngest brother.

He knelt down in front of the wheeled chair Bran sat in. He didn't have the words, so he opened his arms and embraced him. But Jon only received only a gentle pat on the back. "Welcome back, Jon," he said, his voice nearly lifeless.

Jon stood, and threw a look to Sansa. His sister looked on sadly as the brothers were reunited, as if she knew just what had happened to Bran. He decided to not bring it up with her right now. But he did hug her, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"You've returned," she said, relief and pleasure mixing on her face. "It is good that you're home."

"Aye, it is," he agreed.

Now, Jon regained his composure and wore the mask of a king, even if he no longer was one. He walked to Daenerys and, taking her hand, brought her forward. "May I present Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen." He left out all her titles, having forgotten again the long list he had been introduced to at Dragonstone. "Your Grace, my sister, Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell," Sansa curtsied perfectly, "my other sister, Lady Arya Stark," Arya, who had finally turned her attention away from her direwolf gave him a sharp look, while he threw her a confused one back, "and my brother, Lord Brandon Stark."

Bran's expression was blank still, only drifting a few times between the two of them. It made Jon more uncomfortable.

But Daenerys didn't seem to notice anything strange. "It is a pleasure to meet you all. Jon has told me much about you." It was perfunctory, meant to break any tension that may arise.

"It is an honor to meet you, your Grace," Sansa replied, curtsying again. She was acting like the perfect lady, but her eyes held suspicion in them to both Daenerys and he.

Jon looked around, surprised to see a few other familiar faces. But one brought a smile to his face. "Sam!" Jon called out.

Samwell Tarly stepped forward from beside Gilly, a nervous grin on his face. "It's wond-wonderful to see you again, your Grace," he stuttered. Then he nodded to Daenerys. "An honor to meet you, your Grace," he added, bowing slightly.

"What are you doing here? You haven't completed your training as a maester, have you?" Jon asked.

"No, well, it's just-" Sam replied, more jumpy than usual. "I felt that I could be more help here than reading over must-musty tomes in Oldstown."

"Well, you've already helped out immensely," Jon said, embracing him again. "We found the dragonglass and have mined it to forge weapons in the coming battle. We even have a master blacksmith to help us, Gendry Waters of King's Landing." He nodded his head to Gendry, but didn't notice the look on Arya's face when he said the name. Nor did he see her look at the rest of the arrivals, noticing one other face familiar to her.

"He was the one who told you about Dragonstone?" Daenerys asked, her calm expression faltering for a moment. Jon only nodded and Dany turned back to Sam. "Then I would like to personally thank you and discuss your discovery with you later."

"Ye-yes, your Grace. Of course, your Grace." Sam's reactions didn't help stop the smirk from forming on Jon's lips. Daenerys made him nervous, so there was no telling what was going through his friend's mind at the sight of Queen.

Before he could continue with any other introductions that were needed, Jon heard the voice of Tyrion Lannister. "Jaime?" the dwarf said. Jon looked around and saw amongst the small gathering Ser Jaime Lannister standing behind Sansa. He had last seen the knight in King's Landing, at the parley, and he was surprised he had already arrived in Winterfell. It had been an unusually long journey up to White Harbor, taking nearly three weeks, and then the winter snow had caused a number of stalls on the way. But it was still too little time for a whole armed force to reach the North first.

The man couldn't look graver if her tried. Jon caught his eyes as they looked down in shame, before returning the stare.

"We have a great many things to discuss," Bran said, breaking the quiet that had befallen the gathering. "Sam, please take me back inside." Without another word, Sam did as he was asked and wheeled Bran inside.

Jon threw a look to Davos and the older man understood. "We'll wait for you inside," he said as he led all but Sansa, Jaime, Tyrion and Daenerys to the Great Hall.

Once they were gone, Jon gritted his teeth as he anticipated what was to come. "What happened?"

Tyrion began cursing, knowing full well that Cersei had gone back on her word without Jaime even saying a sentence

But then, Jaime began to explain. "I met with the heads of the Lannister forces after you departed King's Landing. Cersei saw them and ordered them out. Then, she proceeded to tell me that she had not intention of marching our army North and that Euron Greyjoy was bringing in the Gold Company to Westeros to bolster her forces down south." He took a deep breath before continuing with, "When I told her I intended to keep my vow, she threatened to have me executed on the spot. The Mountain only awaited her order."

Jon's gaze shifted to Tyrion and then to Daenerys. He saw the same look in her eyes as he had when she had flown Drogon to the Blackwater Rush and massacred the Lannister force returning from Highgarden. He awaited the eruption he was sure to come.

But Daenerys, as she so often did lately, surprised him. "Does she plan to attack at our backs as we fight the dead?" she asked quite calmly.

"I am not sure. She gave me the impression that she merely is bringing in the sellswords to increase her defense of the lands she holds," Jaime answered. "But after she told me that and I said I was keeping my vow to fight alongside you, she declared me a traitor and I was not informed further on her plans before I left."

"Were you able to bring anything to augment what we already have?" Tyrion asked, his question devoid of hope.

"Actually, I was able to bring some. There were my men who aided the Freys in retaking Riverrun," Jaime explained "But with the deaths of, well, almost all the Freys, Lord Edmure Tully was able to seize his home back. I arrived just as the battle was to begin again for the damned castle, and told the generals what had happened in the Dragonpit. I implored them for their help and, thankfully, they were more sensible than our sweet sister and more loyal to me."

"How many?" Daenerys asked.

"Of the Lannister forces, five hundred. But the Tullys marched with us, adding another thousand between their own forces and that of some of their houses."

Now another thought popped into Jon's head. "And where is Lord Baelish? I would think he would still be shadowing you."

Sansa's face turned to ice, making her look like her mother more than usual. It was a look Jon was sadly familiar with. "Lord Baelish was tried and executed for the crimes of treason and murder." Then before Jon could ask any questions, she turned to Tyrion and Jaime. "My Lord, Ser Jaime, I would like to personally apologize for our family's accusations against you." She turned back to Jon. "He murder Lysa Arryn. He had Lysa Arryn poison her husband Jon Arryn and send a raven to Mother and Father accusing the Lannisters. He conspired with Cersei and Joffrey to have Father imprisoned and executed on false charges of treason."

Jon sucked in a breath at the thought of the implications of her words. Everything that had happened, beginning with his father being named Hand of the King, had all been orchestrated by one man, a man who continued to manipulate events as the world descended into chaos from the collection of his earlier schemes. He was actually angry he had not been given the chance to confront Littlefinger. But he nodded. "Father always said, our way was the old way."

Sansa understood him. "I passed the sentence, but it was Arya who was his executioner. I know that is not in keeping with Father's beliefs but..."

"It was close enough," Jon consoled her, though he was distressed at the thought of both his sisters going through with such a thing, and Arya being the one who killed him.

"Anything else I need know?" he asked, a note of humor whispered in his words.

Now, Sansa looked to Daenerys, her eyes crinkling with sympathy. "Tormund and Ser Beric arrived here a week ago." She hesitated, not wanting to look at them as she said her next words. "The Night King brought down the Wall at Eastwatch," she said, her face pained by her next sentence. "With a dragon."

From the side of his eyeline, Jon saw Daenerys begin to collapse. He was quick enough to catch her before she hit the ground. "Daenerys! Dany!" he cried, worry seeping into him as his propriety slipped. He hoped Sansa wouldn't notice. A moment later, the Queen opened her eyes and stared up at him. He didn't know what to say, the guilt so great within him. "I'm sorry...so sorry." He held her tight, repeating his apology in a whisper.

"It's not your fault," she replied, even though her words did nothing to assuage his feelings. Not saying another word, Jon helped Daenerys to her feet and all went into the hall. Jon knew they had a lot to discuss, but as he passed through the threshold, all he heard was Arya's voice yelling very loudly.

"You've been alive and traveling with Jon all this time?" she shouted. "How did you even survive?"

"I told you to go for the heart, you little bitch," the Hound replied calmly for someone getting screamed at.

That made little sense to Jon, but her next comment made even less. "And you!" Jon saw Arya pointing to Gendry. "I thought the Red Woman killed you too!"

The young man nodded his head in Davos' direction. "Ser Davos freed me and sent me on my way off Dragonstone. Suggested I hide right under the Lannisters' noses in King's Landing. Been working at the forges there ever since." Then he gave Arya an intense look. "I'm glad you made it back to your home."

"It was a long road back," she said as they joined the group.

"You know my sister?" Jon asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Gendry turned to him, fear written on his features. But as he stepped forward, it was Arya who explain further. "He and I escaped King's Landing together. It was after King Robert died, after..." Her voice faded for a minute, and Jon saw a sharp pain in her eyes. He knew when they were talking about. "His master was informed about the king's order to kill all of Robert's bastards."

"My Lady!" Davos' face looked panicked as he turned to Daenerys and Jon. Jon understood and for a few seconds, shared his advisor's worry. Daenerys had no love for Robert Baratheon and was liable to turn her fire on the young man for the fact about his paternity. Davos hadn't even wanted Gendry to reveal that fact to Jon and was peeved when the he had confessed it immediately after he introduced the two. Not that Jon would have held that fact against Gendry. As he had pointed out, their father's were best friends.

Thankfully, to the relief of all, Daenerys merely raised an eyebrow. "And to think, the last Targaryen besides me in the world and it is a bastard son of the Usurper." She smiled at his confusion, then offered an explanation. "We are cousins, you and I. My grandparents were siblings to your...great grandmother, was it?" She looked to Lord Varys, who nodded to the question.

The blacksmith's only response to her was a series of unintelligible sounds from his mouth.

But it was then that Bran spoke up. As he had appeared older than he was, his words held an unworldly amount of knowledge, an eerie context. "No, Daenerys Stormborn. There is another with your blood who still lives." Now, utter silence fell over the room. Bran sighed deeply before beginning again, looking at Jon. "I said to you we had much to discuss. I had hoped to have been able to tell you this more privately, but perhaps it is best we are all gathered here."

Sam stepped beside Bran's chair. "I'm sure whatever you have to say can wait." His tone was beseeching, as if he wanted Bran to hold off on whatever the information was.

"No, it must be done immediately." He looked at a few of the faces present, lingering on Jaime and Varys for some reason. "It was meant to be this way." Bran turned to Jon and Daenerys before continuing. "Jon, the question you have always asked, since you were a small child was, who was you mother."

Jon's blood ran cold. His brother was right, he had always begged their father for her name, where she came from. But Eddard Stark had taken that information to the grave. "You know who she is?" He didn't have a clue as to how Bran would have learn that. "How do you know?"

"He has visions," Sansa piped up. Jon's head whipped to her. "He knew that Littlefinger had betrayed Father in the Throne Room."

Jon looked back to Bran, awaiting an acknowledgement. Without a thought, he slipped his hand into Daenerys' surreptitiously as he awaited an answer.

Bran launched into his tale. "I have seen the creation of the Night King by the Children of the Forest. My abilities allow me so see where he is, even now." Then a touch of sadness fell on his face. "I have seen the Stark children in their youth and the bond they had. I have your birth and how you came to be brought here to Winterfell. That is the reason why you are here." Now Jon's heart was beating faster, almost more than he could handle. Dany's hand squeezed his tighter, making him blink at last. His mind was warring with itself: a part of him wanted to know, but something in his brother's face feared that knowledge. For some reason, Bran turned his attention to Ser Jaime. "You wanted to go with Ser Arthur, Ser Gerold and Ser Oswell when Rhaegar sent them to Dorne, is that correct?"

Jaime fidgeted under the gaze of the unwelcome attention he found himself receiving. "Ser Arthur was my mentor, the man who knighted me. When I heard he was being sent away from the capitol, I did want to go, but I was commanded…" He stopped his explanation, as all there knew what he'd been commanded to, and how it ended.

Now Bran looked to Varys. The Master of Whispers had not said much since their arrival at Winterfell, merely observing the goings-on around him. "A little bird told my father that his sister Lyanna had been taken to Dorne by Rhaegar, to a place called the Tower of Joy in the Red Mountains."

Varys' face remained as unreadable as Bran's when he answered, "Yes. I had heard that was where she was being held in the time since Rhaegar had taken her."

"But she was not taken, not by force," Bran said. "Rhaegar knew her to be the part of a prophecy he had been obsessed with since his youth. A prophecy we are seeing played out today." Then he looked back to Jon. "He was fire, and she was ice. Together, they would bring the Prince who was Promised." Another pause, and then, "The rebellion that came from the kidnapping of Lyanna Stark was all a lie. They ran off together, in love with each other and dedicated to fulling what had been foretold. They married each other in the presence of the Old Gods and the New. And they had a son, though neither would live to know him." Now Bran looked to the Lannister brothers. "But she knew she needed to ensure that the prophecy came true, so when her brother found her, she begged him to protect her son She knew what had happened in King's Landing and feared the wrath of Robert Baratheon and Tywin Lannister on a child of dragonblood. So Ned Stark made a vow to his dying sister, one he kept to the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor, to protect his nephew."

He could not believe what he was hearing, even as he realized the many implications. Every fiber of his being denied Bran's words, his brother's words. "I am the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark," he said, trying to remind all gathered what he himself knew. "A motherless bastard got from a...a tavern wench or...a whore."

Then, with one final blow, Bran destroyed the identity Jon Snow had known all his life. "No. You are the son of Rhaegar of House Targaryen and Lyanna of House Stark and Targaryen, trueborn, the blood of kings within your veins. You never were a bastard, but Jaehaerys Targaryen, Third of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. You are the Prince That Was Promised."