A/N: Don't forget to leave feedback!
...
Jon stared ahead uneasily as he quickly dropped the blade in his hand, what happened- His thoughts started, only to to abruptly stop as he heard a whine come from beneath his feet. He turned to the sound, only to blink in confusion as he eyed the small pup near him.
"Ghost!?" Jon questioned abruptly as he stared at the unblinking red eyes of his direwolf. "What happened to you!?" He quickly knelt down towards his suddenly much smaller wolf. Had it been some sort of magic?
Before he could so much as raise the wolf up from the ground, he heard someone call out to him.
"You must be the bastard!" A cheerful voice spoke out earning his attention.
Jon turned to the new stranger, his eyes widening as he took in the man's stunted legs, hideous face and abnormal height. "What?"
Tyrion raised an eyebrow at the word, "Hard of hearing to? My the gods were not kind to you were they?" he questioned as he took a seat on the ledge.
"Who are you?"
"Dense too, one would think it fairly obvious, not many dwarves in a king's party." He snorted, albeit leaving out his name in the process idly wondering if the bastard had enough intelligence-
"Tyrion?" Jon suddenly questioned shocked, what had happened to the man's appearance!? The sudden question bringing him to his previous encounter with another man he'd failed to recognise.
"Lannister," The half-man corrected, "I am only a bastard in appearance I am afraid," He chuckled good-naturedly as his eyes turned towards the pup at the bastard's feet. "Is that animal of yours a wolf?" Tyrion questioned surprised as he waddled over towards him.
Jon had been about to answer before another thought entered his head, "What's all that noise?" He'd been hearing it for some time, music of some kind though mostly drowned out by... Some sort of celebration? Still, the sudden shock at seeing his wolf regress back into a pup had kept him occupied.
"I believe, that would be the feast currently going on."
"Feast? Where are we?"
Tyrion's face contorted into a bemused expression. "Did you hit your head on your way out bastard?"
"What? And stop calling me a bastard you know I am-" Jon froze as he took in the Lannisters background. Winterfell... He was in Winterfell.
"Am what?" Tyrion questioned immediately, interest piqued. "If you're going to tell me your father's Eddard Stark, then I am afraid you still count- Where are you going?" He questioned suddenly as he watched the boy run back towards the main hall. After a moment he turned towards the wolf still waiting on the ground. "You wouldn't happen to know what that was all about would you?"
...
Jon slowed down as he approached the main hall's open doors, a harried breath coming out, one that seized the moment his eyes landed on the front table. He could feel his hand shake, his breath refusing to come out. Evidently he hadn't gotten anyone's attention, the men and woman either too drunk to notice or simply didn't care.
"I believe you forgot this, bastard," He heard a voice behind passively state as he showed him the blood-stained dagger, "I may not be much of a swordsmen but even I know to clean a blade," Tyrion added on the moment Jon turned back towards him. A wide-eyed look on his face though he made no attempt to take back the blade. "I don't have all day you know, wine and wenches await-"
"Jon, follow me," Another voice joined the two still standing at the entrance, this time from inside the hall. Tyrion eyed the First Ranger of the Night's Watch, amusement still in his eyes as the man put a hand on his nephews shoulder, urging him to move... Somewhere. The two moving past him with nary a word, though the elder Stark did take the dagger out of his hand.
"It's as if I am invisible to these people," Tyrion muttered as he watched the two walk away, though both their movement seemed shaken for some reason. And here he'd thought the North's treatment of dwarves would be somewhat different. Alas, even a bastard seemed to dismiss him entirely, a new low for sure.
...
"So, Jon," Benjen started, as he turned towards him.
Jon stared around the area his uncle had decided to take him to, it looked like the Godswood he'd grown up with... Only... There was a sense of foreboding coming out, the bloody eyes carved into the tree almost seemed to stare right through him.
"Still want to join the Night's Watch?" Benjen questioned with a raised eyebrow as he took a seat in front of the large tree.
Jon turned between his uncle and the tree beside him, a bemdusedlook on his face before deciding to take a seat beside the man. "Uncle... What year is it?"
"The better question is, how on Planetos did you escape that crazed squid?"
Jon's eyes snapped to the man, widening in the process as he stood back up. "You remem-" He'd started before he felt a hand clamp his mouth shut. His uncle urging him to keep his voice down. Though he did nod to answer him.
...
"What do we do?" Jon whispered, his eyes glancing behind to make sure there were no one else about.
Benjen sighed as he looked back up on the heart tree. "The Wall needs to be prepared,"
Jon nodded wordlessly, "It won't be enough, we may even need the southern armies if we want any chance of winning,"
They'd the spent the good part of the last hour talking, confirming the fact they were truly alive again, in the past no less, trying to figure out what had happened and though they hadn't figured out exactly how they'd gotten the second chance they did, they knew it had something to do with the magical dagger in Benjens hand. Jon had told him how and where the blood engraved into it's blade had come from, his uncle a silent vigil as he listened.
After a moment of thought, Jon turned towards his uncle, a grim line on his face. "Joffrey needs to die, his existance-"
"Cersei too," Benjen added on, interrupting his nephew, he'd heard the tales, he didn't need to be convinced on the matter. The two Lannisters had been the one constant between the two different worlds. The only difference been Cersei's end. While it had been in a blaze of fire, it hadn't come from Daenarys, no, the mad woman had burnt down Kingslanding in an attempt to take out the army besieging her. Leaving nought but ashes in her wake.
"Fath-" Jon stuttered the word, both because he knew it wasn't true, aswell as his own disbelief that the man was alive, again. He still couldn't process the fact. "Uncle can't go south,"
"Do you know what had changed his mind the first time?" Benjen questioned, the man had known his brother hadn't originally intended to accept the Hand's pin. Something-
"Littlefinger," Jon answered immediately, Bran had told- Jon froze on the spot. "Bran... He hasn't lost his legs yet..." Without another word, he quickly pulled himself up. "We need to warn them." he stammered as he turned about to dash back into the hall before he felt a hand clamp on his shoulder holding him in place.
"And say what exactly? It has yet to happen Jon,"
"So what? We just wait until it does!? Wait until they push him out!?"
"Jon, you're but a boy right now-"
"I am not going to let them cripple him again!"
Benjen shook his head slowly, "Jon, think this through, if you barge in in claiming your brother is going to get pushed out of the window by the Queen and her brother no less, what do you think the King would say?"
"I'd say he'll listen if we tell him he has no true born children, that his wife is cuckolding him with her own brother!"
Benjen sighed, "They will never believe you, you know that."
"Uncle might..." Jon whispered before his eyes locked onto his uncles. "Especially if you tell him!"
"Tell him what? That were from the future?" Benjen questioned with a raised brow, "Even my brother has his limits,"
"What if we tell him things we've no place knowing? You're a man of the Night's Watch and I am but a bastard as far as anyone knows, if he see's the truth in our words regardless then he'll have to believe the rest! We've no reason to lie to him uncle!"
"That would simply push him to go south, if only to confirm it and when he does-"
"The Queen will have him executed..." Jon slumped as he stared back down towards the ground.
"Accusations would only push him to accept Jon, we need him here, if only to prevent the North from being engulfed in the souths wars... We'd need something he couldn't dispute, something no one else could have... Jon?" Benjen questioned, somewhat worried at the glint that had appeared in his nephews eyes.
"You're right. There is one thing he doesn't need to confirm. One thing only the gods themselves could've revealed to me," Jon stated wordlessly as he turned back away from the Heart tree, his eyes locked onto the Great Hall.
...
Eddard Stark stared at his wife, panic growing in his stomach as he noticed her shaking hands.
"Can you read it-" He'd been about to question before he heard three knocks on the door, causing him to release a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He turned back towards the door to his chambers, taking a few steps past the bemused Maester. He ignored the way his wife's panic in hiding, both, the letter in her hand as well as her state of undress as he made to open the door, prepared to get rid of whoever it was-
"Forgive me milord but your brother refuses-" The guard started before the two intruders simply opened the door themselves and walked in uncaring.
"Benjen?" Ned's simmering anger disappeared as he at his brother and... Jon? he felt a sigh of relief escape at the sight. All things considered, he felt he had a good idea of what the man and boy were likely to ask him though he'd refuse them all the same, Jon was far to young to consider taking the Black. Still he knew this could wait until the morning, whatever it is Lysa had sent takes precedence-
"Uncle, we need to talk." Jon stated passively, his eyes watering as he barely managed to keep them locked to his own.
Ned stared at the two, his gazes shifted uneasily, the silence that permeated the sentence seemed to suffocate the room. He knew if he turned around at that moment he'd either see confusion or anger in his wife's eyes at the words. Whatever it was... Given the look both his brother and nephew were sending him, it'd likely turn to cold fury.
Oddly enough, Lysa's secret letter didn't seem all that important anymore. Though whether that was due to the fact he still had yet to learn of it's contents, or because he was about to tell his wife he'd been committing treason for the good part of 5 and 10 years, he wasn't entirely sure.
