Disclaimer: I do not own GoT/Asoiaf
A/N: Originally called 'Defiance' I am reposting this story due to many pms asking me to do so. I am thinking of re-posting the entire story, re-writing and re-editing a lot of it. If you're interested in re-reading it, please let me know in a review!
Chapter 1
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The gentle rocking of a ship should have lulled the infant in his arms to sleep, but she only lay awake as if in anticipation of the events that were to unfold from this day forward, the day of her birth, the death of her family, the ruins of her dynasty, the rise of her future…
Flashback
"Mother!" A small blonde-haired child wailed; his eyes locked onto the woman withering in pain on bed as a storm raged outside. A hairless man familiar to him, another man that was not, and two women hovered over the queen. The man and women worked over her, while the young boy watched with morbid fascination at the happenings as his mother screamed out in pain. The boy looked to the hairless man, "Mother, what's happening to her? Is she dying?"
"She is giving birth, little prince." The man supplied an answer; it was the only one he could give to the child; he was just as worried as the physician aiding the queen.
His mother cried out; blood dripped from her most scared of area onto the sheets. "There's blood everywhere," The blonde boy whispered as the thick substance slid from the sheets to the castle floor. With a piercing scream drowned by the storm raging outside Dragonstone's walls, the queen collapsed in exhaustion.
The physician stood; in his arms was a baby, "A healthy princess; my queen."
"Why is she not crying?" Weakly, the queen reached out for her daughter. "Give her to me. Give me my daughter." Rhaella took the infant, milky pale skin, soft as flower petals to the touch, a crown of silvery blonde hair upon her crown, and eyes the color of lilacs blinked up at her. "She's beautiful, my sweet child." A weary smile upon her face, she reached out a hand towards her son, "Viserys, my darling prince, come meet your sister." Quietly, the young prince went to his mother's side and gazed upon the babe in her arms. He squinted at the newborn; it was small and odd, quiet and looked up at him with eyes lighter than his own.
"What is this?" A voice disturbed the small group; Rhaella looked sharply to the entrance of the room. Even in her weak state, bloodied and exhausted she appeared fearsome as a true mother dragon. She blinked as confusion and shock swirled together in her eyes. "Oberyn Martell."
The viper gave a curt bow, "My queen." He glanced at the bald man; a brow raised questioningly, "Varys."
Varys eyed him carefully, "What is the Prince of Dorne doing so far from home?"
"I thought the answer would be simple." He raised the spear in his hand, gave it a skillful whirl. "Word spread quickly of the sacking of King's Landing, the Targaryens' failure to prevent my sister and her children's death at the hands of the Lannisters. Did you think I would merely remain in Dorne and mourn for my family's loss?"
Rhaella's eyed him darkly, despite her fatigue she raised to sit with a fierce glare, arms wrapped protectively around her remaining children. "Have you come to seek revenge upon my family?'
"You misunderstand, as much as I blame your son for failing my sister and her children; it was Tywin Lannister who ordered for their deaths." Oberyn's voice was ragged, almost animalistic from the emotion riding it.
"Does your brother know you are here, does Prince Doran know of what you plan to do?" Varys questioned calmly; he knew better than all not to temper the serpent.
The Martell heir smirked, "For a man without balls, you ask a lot of brazen questions."
Varys merely offered him a smile, "You are outnumbered. Robert Baratheon is now king. He resides in the Red Keep, House Lannister, Stark, Arryn, Tully, they all fight for him. If you choose to battle against him now, you will surely lose. Has Dorne not lost enough men at the Battle of the Trident? Your uncle was one of them from what I recall."
"As was your crown prince, Rhaegar. As long as I can cut down Tywin and the monstrosity they call 'The Mountain' nothing else matters."
"What of your brother? Would you take his last remaining sibling from him as well? And what of your daughters, two, if I am correct, would you leave them fatherless?"
Oberyn eyed the older man, "What is it you would have me do then?"
"Return to Dorne, live another day, live to fight another battle. You can obtain the revenge you seek, but you must be patient. There are few who still hold hope for our kingdom, and of our rightful heirs." He looked down at the young boy and infant. "There is still a chance to resurrect House Targaryen."
Oberyn scoffed, glared at Rhaella. "The Targaryens' have already failed us once; they failed to protect my sister and her children."
"I understand, but it was not Queen Rhaella's fault, Prince Rhaegar chose to abduct Lyanna Stark and cause this war." Varys justified, Oberyn merely shrugged his words off.
"I have already lost one child," Rhaella sighed wearily. "I cannot lose anymore. Tell your brother if Dorne will protect my remaining children, when the time comes, both will marry a Martell. Together, House Targaryen and House Martell will rise to rule the seven kingdoms."
Oberyn's eyes narrowed like slits of a snake. "How do I know you will not go back on your word?"
"Take my children with you to Dorne," Rhaella whispered, she withered in pain in the bed. "I cannot protect them anymore." Tears ran freely down her face as she pressed her face into the infant's warm cheek before holding her out with shaky hands to the Dornish prince. "Keep them safe."
Slowly Oberyn took the infant, the child was asleep. "What is her name?"
"Daenerys." The storm thundered outside the castle walls. "Daenerys Stormborn." That had been the queen's final words as she descended into the darkness, for the first time since his arrival, he felt a flicker of emotion, sadness, sympathy, possibly fear as he watched the light in Rhaella's eyes dim; her hands fall limp, life's breath left her body.
Varys's eyes genuinely sadden at the loss of their queen, he looked expectantly at Oberyn. "What will you do now?"
"I will do as she asked. I will make sure her children survive. Robert will arrive soon; he will want every single Targaryen killed. I will take Daenerys and Viserys with me to Dorne. Burn the queen's body before Robert's men arrive, tell them the babe was stillborn and burned along with the queen's body. Let Robert think Viserys has been taken away across the Narrow Sea, hidden away in the Free Cities, even he isn't fool enough to travel such a distance to find him."
Varys nodded quickly to the instructions given to him, "Yes, I have many connections across the Narrow Sea; I will send word."
"Good, see you do so quickly." Oberyn glanced once more to the deceased queen, then at the child in his arms. With a single nod in Varys's direction, he took his leave. Upon the Dornish ship, Viserys had already been led away to a room; Oberyn looked down at the stirring infant, curious lilac eyes looked up at him, as if she seemed to sense the absent presence of her mother. Her face scrunched, her eyes watered, her lips parted in a whimper. Oberyn cooed to the child. "Your mother is gone little one, but you have me. I will protect you now. Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen, until the world is ready to accept your existence, you will be known as Tyene Sand daughter of the viper."
End of Flashback
Twelve years had passed.
It had been a storm that night, the first one in many years in Dorne, Oberyn had been unable to sleep, plagued by nightmares of his sister's death. He had gone for a walk through the palace, deciding to check upon his sleeping daughters. As he had approached Dany's room, he had heard the sound of soft weeping, and a harsh voice whispering amongst the thunder claps.
"N-no-" A tiny voice whimpered. "S-stop!"
"Shut up! Did I say you could speak little sister?" The voice snapped at her coldly. "You did it now, you have awoken the dragon!"
"I'm sorry, Viserys." Her voice whispered the strident of her voice shook with fear. "Please, stop."
The sound of flesh meeting flesh, the harsh sound of a body falling to the ground echoed in his ears. He threw the doors open to her room, the candles had been blown out from the sheer force, violent arcs of lightning illuminated the room. He had found her in a heap on the floor, nursing her cheek, her brother stood over her with what appeared to be a horse crop. Her lilac eyes met his, shining with newly unshed tears, begging him to help her.
"What are you doing Viserys?" Oberyn seethed at the young prince.
"I'm your rightful king; you dare to speak to me that way!" Viserys hissed below his breath. Composing himself, he turned furious eyes onto the red viper. "I was teaching my sweet sister a lesson. She disobeyed me."
Oberyn's eyes narrowed, unreadable, cold, calculating, all much like that of his namesake, a viper waiting to strike. This caused Viserys to lose his composure partially. "I think it is time you return to your room, Viserys. We will speak tomorrow." When the older Targaryen heir refused to move, Oberyn smirked morbidly. "That is of course, if you wish to do otherwise, I can always do it myself the hard way. The choice is of course yours, little prince."
"Who do you think you are speaking-" Viserys lashed out at him.
"Watch your tongue boy," Oberyn hissed snakelike. "If I, were you, I would be careful when choosing my next few words."
"You need me!"
Oberyn smirked cruelly, "We only need a Targaryen, and we have two. An heir and a spare, you could quickly become the spare. I will not repeat myself a third time. Return to your room and do not leave it again, for if you do, I will know."
Viserys glared angrily at the older man, he threw the crop at the Dornishman's feet and stormed off, but not before throwing a furious glare at his trembling sister. Oberyn waited until he heard his footsteps down the hall, called for a guard to follow the Targaryen boy to his room. Oberyn shut the doors to her room. Quietly he lit the candles in her room; soon the entire room was dimly lit by a warm golden glow. He knelt in front of her.
"Can you stand for me?" Oberyn asked her gently, offered her a hand. Mutely she nodded, stumbled to her feet on her own accord and looked up at him with wide lilac eyes. He guided her to sit on her bed, in the light of the candles he was able to take in her appearance. Her once perfect silvery braid was ragged as if it had been snatched roughly, her left cheek she had been holding was now growing blue and purple, her bottom lip was cut and swollen, and she clung tightly to her tattered sleeping gown as if an animal had ravaged it. Oberyn sighed heavily, "I need to see, can you remove your hands for me? Just for a moment?" She stared at him; her eyes seemed to glaze over, like a fearfully trained animal. Her hands fell away limp, her sleeping gown instantly pooled to the floor, revealing all of him to her. There he saw the angry, red marks along her breast buds as if the tender flesh had been pinched repeatedly. Her torso was covered in old and new bruises, along her arms was broken flesh, as if nails had been dug deep into the pale skin and dragged down it like a furious feline. At the base of her throat were dark finger prints, where hands had once been wrapped tightly around. With a heavy heart, Oberyn pulled the sheet from her bed and swaddled her in its warm fabric. Her eyes were wary of him. "How long has your brother been doing this?"
Her voice was soft, sweet like chimes as she spoke, "I don't remember. He would always come at night, hurt me, told me I made to many mistakes. I made him unleash the dragon, and then he would leave."
"Why did you not tell me of this?"
"Because it was my fault, I made the dragon come out."
Oberyn reached out a hand and gingerly pressed it to her bruised cheek, "No, my sweet girl. You did nothing wrong." Her darkly composed expression remained unconvinced, and he felt his heart ache for her.
In the early dawn, the storm had begun to recede; Oberyn had cleansed her wounds, stayed with her and sung her Dornish lullabies until the sun arose, and somewhere in that time, she had fallen asleep, her head on his lap, her hand tightly woven around his unwilling to let go.
She had been awoken late in the afternoon by Princess Arianne, Obara, and Nymeria, both eager to play, they had helped her dress, taken her to Prince Doran and Oberyn who had been sitting and sharing a meal together. She had bowed shyly, noticed the small smile upon Doran's face as he spoke. "Come child, eat, you are a growing girl, you need your nutrients."
The young Targaryen had merely nodded, taken a seat closest to Nymeria. Oberyn and his brother had shared brief glances, before the younger prince spoke. "My sweet girl, your brother is going to be leaving us, he will be sent across the Narrow Sea to the Free Cities." She froze at his words, looked at them with poorly veiled concern. "It is for both your safety, keeping you two together was not wise. You will remain here in Dorne, and your brother will reside in Pentos. One day, you will meet again, but until then you will stay us."
Daenerys had only nodded, quietly eaten her meal and returned to her room. Sometime later, Oberyn had knocked upon her door, found her sitting upon near an open window overlooking the Water Gardens. "Is it my fault my brother is going to be sent away?" She turned to look at him, lilac eyes so wide with fear.
"No," Oberyn sat down beside her. "Do you know why you have two names, Tyene Sand and Daenerys Targaryen?" She shook her head slowly. "Before you were born, many bad things happened, and because of those bad things, there are many bad people who wish to harm you and your brother because of your name."
"Why?"
"One day, when you are older, I will tell you the story of your family." He reassured her. "For now, all you must understand is that because of those bad people, we are separating you and your brother in the hope, if those bad people tried to harm you or your brother, at least one of you may survive. Do you understand?"
Dany looked at him with uncertainty, "I think so."
Oberyn chuckled, "That is good enough for now. Nym, Princess Arianne, and Obara must be looking for you, why don't you join them in the gardens?"
Dany smiled brightly, "Okay!" She scrambled to her feet to hurry out the door, only pausing when Oberyn called to her.
"Dany," She halted in mid-step. "Outside of these walls, who are you?" He looked at her expectantly.
The young Targaryen blinked; her eyes narrowed snakelike without conscious. "Tyene Sand, daughter of the red viper."
Oberyn smirked, "Good. Go play, my sweet girl." As Dany ran off down the halls, the older prince limped into the room upon a cane.
"What did you tell her?"
Oberyn's smirk fell, eyes flashed with an unreadable emotion. "What she needed to hear. Her brother will be like his father if he were ever to rule."
Doran sighed heavily, "The Targaryen madness runs deep in his veins."
Oberyn glanced out of the window, could see his two daughters and Dany playing chase. "Not in her."
"Not yet," Doran cautioned.
"Never," Oberyn hissed in a quick succession.
Doran smirked kindly, "You've grown fond of her my little brother."
Oberyn shared his smile, "As have you, my dear brother." He glanced out once more as her silvery hair glowed like a golden crown from the sun beams. "I will train her, so no man will ever hurt her again."
"She is the blood of the dragon; she will grow to be ferocious."
Oberyn turned to his brother with a resolute smirk, "Yes she will even more so under my guidance."
"Her name day is coming, have you arranged a suitable gift for our dragon." Doran questioned as he looked out at the Water Gardens, he watched his eldest child, his only daughter frolic along with her cousins and Dany.
Oberyn watched the girls vigilantly, "Yes, a very suitable gift indeed. From the shadowlands beyond Asshai. The perfect gift for a Targaryen." Doran looked curious. Oberyn smirked faintly, "Dragon eggs, my dear brother. They are petrified eggs from centuries ago, but nonetheless beautiful, worthy of my little serpent."
It had been a few days since Daenerys had received her name day gift, she had been in awe of the three dragon eggs. The silver-haired girl had stood staring at the ornate chest open, displaying the beautiful eggs. One was deep green with bronze flecks along its shell, another white as snow with streaks of bronze and gold, the last was the most beautiful, gleaming gold with swirls of darker gold. They called to her, in silent whispers, as if invisible strings bound them together. She had but to touch the golden egg, heat radiated from the egg, as if there was a heartbeat tucked away within the shell's confinements. The Martells' and Viserys had watched curiously when the young Targaryen as held the golden egg to her cheek and whispered contently, "It's so warm."
It had been nightfall when Daenerys had heard the shouting, her brother was screaming furiously. Another voice was quick to quiet him with a harsh hiss of warning, Viserys had immediately done so. Quietly, Daenerys had crept down the hall towards her brother's room. He had not dared to enter hers since Oberyn had found them. Threw the crack in the door she could see her brother glaring, weeping angry large tears.
"You're sending me away?" He shrieked.
Oberyn looked unamused, cold, even dismissive of the young boy's tearstained face. "I have received word the necessary arrangements have been made. You will reside in Pentos with Magister Illyrio Mopatis."
"Why, why do I have to leave? Send Daenerys away!" Viserys argued angrily.
"I have already claimed Daenerys as my bastard daughter in the eyes of Dorne's people, you have never left the palace. No one knows of you. It is easier this way." Oberyn spoke with little sympathy for the child. "You will leave tomorrow on a ship with an escort."
"No, you cannot do this to me! I am the heir!" Viserys hissed madly. "I am the dragon, I am the son of the dragon, I am the heir to House Targaryen!"
"You are nothing but a weeping child," Oberyn snarled at him, silencing him at once. "You will leave tomorrow, I suggest you get some rest, you will have a long journey ahead of you."
Daenerys had quickly returned to her room before Oberyn could notice her. That night Daenerys laid hidden beneath her bedsheets, trembling. Images of her brother's anger burned in her mind; they racked her body with tense waves of fear. Sometime late in the night her body and mind had given in to an exhausted, deep slumber. In her dreams, she dreamt three tiny dragons, wove around her leg, arm and neck. She was laying in a bed, naked, with these tiny little beasts. It was there she saw it, the blood, thick, red liquid glistening as the sun rose to brighten the room. It was then she saw the source of the blood, it was coming from her between her legs, her womanhood. Blood coated her thighs and pelvis; the tiny dragons were covered in her blood. They watched her, a pair of bronze, golden and red eyes. Jade green, creamy white, and beaten gold little bodies with delicate leathery wings, so warm on her skin.
Daenerys felt herself suddenly being shaken violently. She was broken from her dream with an abrupt cry as her tiny dragons vanished from her sight, she reached out a hand to them, grasping at nothing by the air. Lilac eyes burst open to see maddened darker ones staring down at her. Viserys dragged her roughly off the bed, Daenerys could only gasp as she fell to the floor, he grabbed her by her thick braid, dragging her across the floor as she cried out.
"Viserys, stop please!"
"Shut up you little whore!" Viserys rounded on her, roughly grabbing her bruised cheek. "You did this, you got into Prince Doran and Prince Oberyn's ear, what did you tell them you little bitch?"
"Nothing I swear," Daenerys wept.
"You lying bitch!" Viserys yelled as he struck her across the cheek, Daenerys cried out, tears rolled down her stinging cheek. "You thought you could get rid of me? I'll show you; I'll show them all who the real dragon is. The one true heir of House Targaryen! I'll show them all!" He shrieked madly at her.
"Let me go!" Daenerys cried out as he dragged her down the hall into his room, it was there she smelt a strong smell, oil, lots of oil. He threw her onto the ground in his room, it was wet. Oil covered the entire floor. Daenerys looked up horrified as Viserys poured a jug of oil all over her head and sleeping gown.
"Viserys, no, stop, please!" Daenerys wept and pleaded.
"They think you're the true dragon, don't they? It's why they're sending me away, but I'll prove them all wrong. I am the rightful heir." Viserys walked past her, she followed him with fearful eyes, her eyes widened as she saw the ornate chest holding her dragon eggs. "These rightfully belong to me, not you." He grabbed the white egg. "They may be dead and cold, but these dragon eggs are my birthright not yours, do you hear me!"
Daenerys looked at him curiously, how could he say they were cold. She had felt such warmth from them as if living dragon were deep asleep in the eggs. Viserys walked around the room shouting words of nonsense at her, he blamed her for everything that had gone wrong in their lives, blamed her for their mother's death. She died, while Daenerys lived, an unfair exchange he deemed it. He stopped his ranting and had gone completely still. He grabbed a large torch and lit it ablaze from the candle at his bedside.
"Tonight, little sister the true dragon of House Targaryen will rise." Viserys said quietly. The door of the room was thrown open as Oberyn, Doran, two maids, guards, looked on in horror.
The first maid looked terrified, "I told you my princes, I heard shouting." Both maids were fond of Daenerys and had gone to bring the girl a late-night meal as she'd often awaken hungry late in the night only to find her bed chambers empty.
"Viserys, what are you doing?" Doran said calmly, Oberyn beside him was seething in a simmered rage at the sight of Daenerys's fearful gaze begging him to save her.
"You doubt I am a real dragon; I know you do. I will show you all, who the true dragon is!" Viserys yelled as he threw the torch onto the ground, the maids rushed into the room in a hurry as it was engulfed in flames.
"Dany!" Oberyn shouted, the last image he saw was her tearful lilac eyes glowing in the flames. Doran and the guards caught and restrained him as Doran shouted for guards to begin dousing out the flames. The entire room was ablaze and smoke filled, Oberyn quickly helped his brother to safety as guards rushed with water to put out the flames. It was sunrise when they managed to confine and extinguish the flames, nearly the entire wing of the castle had been burnt down.
"Father," Nym was weeping, they had been evacuated from their rooms by their father and guards as they all stood in the gardens staring at the burnt ruins of their rooms. "Dany, where is she?"
Oberyn sighed heavily, his heart ached with loss with heavy grief. "She was caught in the flames with Viserys." Obara and Arianne looked mortified as Doran hugged his young sons to him. Quentyn and Trystane wept into their father's arms.
Oberyn walked through the ruins, his daughters close behind. He looked up to the sky, the blood red comet was passing overhead, its long tail filling the sky. It was the color of blood itself. He and Doran had spoken of its coming arrival, he'd nearly forgotten altogether about it. A bleeding star that could be seen by daylight but outshined the moon by nightfall. He followed the end of the comet's tail down to the ground, it was there amongst the soot, ash and rubble did he see something stir. He caught the unmistakable glisten of silver in the coming sunlight. "Dany," He whispered as he ran forward, Nym, Arianne, Obara close behind as Doran was aided by Areo, his guard and sons. Oberyn froze, his eyes fixated as a small body rose from amongst the ash.
There she stood, Daenerys Stormborn, her pale skin covered in soot and ash, her lilac eyes shone brightly. In both arms covering her breasts were two dragons, a jade green and a white. A larger, golden colored one sat perched on her shoulder; its tail wrapped around her neck. The Martells' stood speechless as the sight of the tiny dragons and Dany. There was no one else.
"D-Dany," Nym, Arianne and Obara whispered.
"What happened to Viserys?" Oberyn whispered, though Dany heard him.
"He was no dragon; fire cannot kill a dragon." Daenerys spoke softly.
Four more years later.
"Leave my sight and never return!" Lady Stark lashed out at him.
In the cold north, a young man dressed in a black fur cloak stormed into the stables, dark curls shrouded his face for a moment as he struggled to contain his emotions. Unwilling to linger on his onslaught of frustration, pain, and anger he set to work tacking his gelding. A large white wolf remained silently at his side, always quietly observing his master; he'd comfort him with soft touches and gentle croons.
"Jon wait," A voice called, a voice filled with warmth and apology. "Mother, she did not mean it."
"Robb, leave me be."
"No, you're my brother. You want to ride; I'm coming with you."
"Robb," He sighed with a great heaviness in his voice. "She's your mother, you should apologize to her."
"There is nothing to apologize for, Jon. What she said to you, it was unfair. Whether we have the same mother or not, you are our flesh and blood."
"And you don't know how much that means to me." Jon offered him a barely-there smile. "You're lucky you have a mother, do not tarnish your relationship with her for my sake."
Before Robb could retort, a voice startled both men, "Robb, that's enough." They turned to see the Warden of the North, Ned Stark, he had been returning from a ride when he'd heard his sons. He held out the reigns of his stallion to Robb. "Put him out to pasture. I must speak with your brother." Without a word Robb took the reign from Ned's hand, began leading the horse out of the barn to cool him down. Ned sighed, his eyes softened as he spoke, "Come with me."
Silently he followed after his father, never uttered a word. They walk had led them to the Winterfell crypts. At the lowest levels of the crypt, Ned set his torch aside, paused before a large, empty tomb. He pressed a hand against the cold surface, sighed heavily as he turned back to his son.
"Why have you brought me here, father?" Jon questioned in confusion, Ned studied him, a sad smile on his lips, Jon looked more Stark than any of his siblings, but he was never treated as one.
"I think it's time we talked about your mother."
Jon's eyes widened, his lips parted, mouth suddenly run dry. No words came. He just stared at his father with anticipated confliction. Ned turned back to the tomb, moved the lid, reached into its dark depth and removed a sheathed greatsword. He touched the delicate carvings in the scabbard.
"Your mother wanted me to give this to you when the time came for you to become a man." Ned paused to glance at his son. "She wanted you to know wherever you went, whoever you became, you would know your lineage, know you were very loved by her and her family." Ned unsheathed the greatsword; the blade was pale as milk glass, it glistened brightly from the light of the single torch, like a beacon in the darkness of the crypts of Winterfell. "This greatsword is named Dawn. Its last wielder was-"
"Ser Arthur Dayne.", "Your uncle." Jon and Ned spoke in unison. He handed the sheathed sword to Jon, who took the greatsword, removed it from its sheath to gaze at the beautiful blade.
"Unlike most ancestral swords, House Dayne does not pass its sword from lord to lord, only a knight of House Dayne who is worthy can wield it. Your mother, Ashara, she said your uncle wanted you to inherit Dawn, even before you were born, she said he knew you would be worthy of such a great blade." He paused, took a deep breath. "I met Ashara at the Tourney of Harrenhal. She was a beautiful and uncommonly kind, I'd never met a woman like her. I did not intend to ever see her again." He watched his son as he continued. "After my sister, your Aunt Lyanna was kidnapped by Prince Rhaegar, I went to find her at the Tower of Joy after the war ended, there I fought Ser Arthur Dayne, and I killed him, and I lost Lyanna. She had died due to childbirth, a stillborn son. I decided to return Dawn to House Dayne, when I arrived at Starfall, I saw Ashara again after nearly a year, in her arms was a babe. And that babe was you. We shared many emotions that day, I had just murdered her brother, and there she was holding my child. We had talked greatly that day; she thought it would be best if I took you best to Winterfell, so you would have brothers and sisters to grow up with, she said she would never bear another child."
"Because she loved you," Jon concluded quietly.
Ned didn't respond, only nodded slowly. "As much as I loved Ashara, my duty remained with Catelyn, I had already dishonored her once, and I could not do it again." He spoke softly, gravely, a solemn expression on his face. "If times had been different, I would have given up everything to be with Ashara. She asked me to take Dawn with me to Winterfell; it had been your uncle's last request, that you should inherit Dawn. I have kept it here in the tombs until the time came where you were ready."
Jon appeared even more conflicted now, his brown eyes unreadable, his lips in a permanent frown. "Why are you telling me all this now?"
From his cloak Ned removed a small scroll, handed it to Jon. "Allyria Dayne, the current Lady of Starfall, she is your mother's sister. She sent a letter, asking for you to visit Starfall." Jon read the scroll.
His eyes darkened, "it says she's written to me many times. Why have I never received those letters?"
Ned sighed, "I was waiting for the right time to tell you of your lineage."
A black scowl on his face, Jon rounded on his father, too overwhelmed by his emotion to compose himself. "I may be the bastard of Winterfell, but I am still your son. You had no right to hide this from me!"
"Jon," Ned began, but the words fell from his lips.
"I have always done what you have asked of me, always without question because you are my father, and an honorable man who I respected greatly. I see today honor means nothing when an honorable man has no honor for even his own son, even if he is a bastard." There was no spite, no anger, only heartbreaking disappointment in Jon's voice.
"Jon, that's not true."
"I'm going." Jon said with conviction. "I'm going to Starfall." His expression was impassive, so eerily similar to that of Ned's. His face guarded, and his eyes unreadable. A Stark through and through he was.
"Jon-"
"I've decided. No one will miss the bastard of Winterfell, not you, and especially not Lady Stark." He turned to leave the crypts, a dark frown on his face.
"You're not going anywhere, Jon. You're my son."
Jon paused, turned to regard his father, his eyes more intense than before. "This is the first time you've spoken to me as one of your trueborn." Ned felt his heart fall heavily in his chest. "If you think of me as your trueborn son, you'll let me go."
Ned said nothing, Jon had his answer.
Three days later, Jon said his farewells, Arya, Bran, and Robb were the most bittersweet. With a heaviness in his heart, a bit of fear in mind, a flicker of excitement in his soul, and his faithful direwolf, Ghost at his side, Jon entered the ship that would take him to Dorne. Ned had already sent a raven for Starfall with news of Jon's departure. The journey was long, many days spent in deep thought, some basking in the reminiscences of his siblings and the only home he'd ever know, and some he'd lay in his room trying to imagine the face of Ashara Dayne. In his lonely times, Ghost was lay next to him, gently nudge his large head beneath his arms and rest it on his chest with a soft croon to comfort him.
In the end none of it mattered, learning who is his mother was did nothing to quell the feelings of being unworthy of anything or anyone in him, it only generated more questions he hoped to find answers to. A new adventure was to begin, he promised his siblings to return was stories of his escapades.
The promise of seeing his brothers and sisters again was enough to sedate the qualms that arose in him. He would never be prepared for the events that would take place once he arrived to Dorne.
End of Chapter!
Please review if you'd like an update, thank you for taking the time to read my story!
I decided to change up the dragons, Sunfyre has always been my favorite so I wanted to add him instead of Drogon. As per how the dragon eggs were born, I read many different theories, life for a life, the red comet, blood magic, etc. The comet was present, Viserys and the two maids who died were the lives exchanged, but in my story, the dragons bond to Dany will be a bit different. She felt drawn to them in a way they chose her, and she is a true dragon, unlike Viserys, she was able to awaken the dragons from the petrified slumber, but required a sacrifice to hatch them.