Jon Snow stood before the skeletal figure of the dragon that used to be Viserion. His grey eyes glared at the roaring beasts' frigid blues. Not too long ago this dragon was an ally. Together with its siblings it had flown beyond the wall to save Jon and his companions. That was where it had fallen. That was where it had been turned. And now it was here, killing for the undead. Jon clutched the sword in his hands tightly, the Valyrian steel blade the only thing that could manage to kill this thing. "I need to do this. Even if it is my last stand" the son of fire and ice thought as he raised his sword. With a shout he charged, sword held high. Viserion lowered its head and let lose a blast of blue flame. The heat hit Jon first before the fire engulfed him whole.
Jon woke up with a start, his breath coming in short gasps. Quickly he jumped out of bed and pushed himself against the old warm stone wall. His blanket was thrown off the bed and the thing itself was wet. He immediately looked at his trousers, fearing that he may have wet the bed. But to his relief it was not that. A shiver passed through him and then he realized that he was wet from sweat, the bed sharing his fate.
"Such a night terror" he thought while collecting the blanket. He could still remember every detail of it from first to last. He had gone to the wall, he had seen terrors beyond it that made his skin crawl. He had fallen in love with a wildling, he had camped with wildlings, he had even made love to one. But then he had lost her whilst defending the wall, she had died in his arms. He remembered being picked for Lord Commander of The Night's Watch. And then the very same brothers had stabbed him through the heart. But he had come back thanks to some savage god's intervention through his priestess. He remembered taking Winterfell back from The Boltons and he remembered Daenerys Targaryen and her three Dragons. He remembered the army of the dead attack Winterfell and he remembered facing the dragon alone.
The thought of the dragon made his knees weak. What was he thinking charging at it like it was some winged cow or something? Shaking his head, he decided on spreading the blanket on the lone chair in his room. It too was wet from sweat and would need to dry out. He went straight to the bathrooms. Maybe a bath could clear his head.
The bath did nothing of the sorts. The water was cold since it was too early to ask someone to help him draw some hot water. The day seemed to be colder than before as well, making Jon pull the cloak around him closer. He was in the training yard right now, Robb and Bran with him as well. Bran was being taught to hold and shoot a bow and arrow. Both Robb and Jon were instructing him. To Jon it felt like he had done this before. He looked back upwards and his eyes met those of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. He was smiling down at the scene before him. His eyes shifted to the right and he saw Lady Catelyn Stark doing the same. He looked away right as the woman was about to look at him.
"Go on. Father's watching" he spoke to a frustrated Bran, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "So is your mother" he added much softer. Bran tries once more and this time as well misses. Robb lets out a bark of laugh while Jon just smiles at the scene.
"And which one of you was a marksman at ten? Keep practicing, Bran. Go on" Ned called from his place above and behind them and encouraged Bran to try again.
"Relax your bow arm" Robb advised.
"Don't think too much" Jon added. Bran gave a small nod and went to try again. But an arrow flew past him and hit the bullseyes. They all turned around and found Arya standing with a bow in hand. She gave a small curtsy and ran, Bran hot on her heels and Robb's laugh echoing after them. The two then went off pick up the littered arrows. Jon snuck a look upwards and saw Ser Rodrick and Theon approach Lord and Lady Stark. A feeling of dread filled Jon as a scene played in his head. From above Catelyn looked down to glare at Jon once Ned and the other two had walked away. But Jon just stared at her blankly, not breaking eye contact.
They were all there like his dream. Lord Stark, Theon, Robb, Ser Rodrick and the deserter on the chopping block. Jon watched as the man kept muttering about the white walkers. About how he had seen them beyond the wall.
"Wights" Jon spoke before he even realized it and all attention went on to him. "Those wildling children were Wights. Not White Walkers" he spoke softly.
"So, you believe me?!" for a moment Will the deserter looked hopeful. But the hope died when Jon looked down and away from his face. He then looked at Lord Stark and in a shaky voice said his last words.
"Don't look away" Jon whispered to Bran. "Look away and father will know" he added. He was looking at the black brother before him, his hand on Bran. He felt a slight tug in his chest when the sword swung and the head rolled off. The man was a Man of The Night's Watch. He would have been his sworn brother.
With the deed finished everyone moved away from the now dead body while two men went to dispose of the head and body. Ned had gone talk to Bran while Theon jogged up beside Jon. "What was that about? Do you honestly believe what he saw?" the Ironborn asked.
The easy answer would have been to say no. White Walkers were things Old Nan told to scare the children of Winterfell. Jon and Robb used to be one of these children. And Jon knew Bran hears of them often as well. But his night terror, he had seen these things. He had seen them march to Winterfell, led by their King on the back of a dead dragon. "Winter is coming" he finally whispered, looking at Theon from the corner of his eyes. The Ironborn gave an unimpressed looking before walking forward and leaving Jon behind.
A little distance of walking after, they found a dead stag with broken antlers. While they all studied the dead thing, Jon was walking away from the scene. This scene too was all too familiar to him. He knew where next he needed to go. He knew what he would find if he went there. Behind him he could scarcely hear his brother and father shout for him to stop. Their voices seemed far away to him, like they were on the other end of some tunnel. He kept walking, his eyes staring intently forward. And then he found it. The carcass of the giant wolf with five pups whimpering around her. The rest weren't that far to reach it and stood there stunned.
"It's a freak" Theon muttered in disgust.
"It's a Direwolf" Ned corrected the boy sternly. The tone made Theon drop his head. Jon knew what was going to happen next. His father would want them a quick death and Theon would volunteer. He would end up speaking for the wolves and the Stark children would get a wolf each. So, he cut all that chatter down.
"Lord Stark" Jon spoke up just as Theon was about to speak. "There are five pups here and you have five children. The Direwolf is the sigil of your house. They were meant to have these pups" he put his argument forward and passed a pup to Bran. They all were looking at Ned for his words, Bran with a bit more hope than the rest.
"You will train them yourselves. You will feed them yourselves. And if they die, you will bury them yourselves" his voice was steel and his posture anything but lax. Bran gave a swift grinning nod while Jon passed the wolves to Robb. And then he walked away from the dead wolf.
"Where are you going?" Robb asked. But Jon did not answer. He merely crouched and picked up another pup from the snow. The pup that was his.
"The runt of the litter" Theon snorted. "That one's yours snow". That it was. This one was his.
Back at Winterfell the wolf pups were welcomed with open arms and excitement by the children. Even the always proper Sansa was buzzing with excitement when she held her wolf. Arya named hers Nymeria after the warrior, Sansa called hers Lady while Rickon named his Shaggydog because of its fur. Robb named his Greywind while Bran couldn't think of one. Jon named his Ghost and had not let the pup out of his sight or arms. Even while feeding it he held it close to him. It was like something in his wanted to never let go of the wolf, like if he did something would happen to it.
Nearing the setting of the sun Jon made his way to the hall for dinner, Ghost tucked under his cloak. But he stopped right when he was at the stables. There was a raven sat there, staring at it intently. Jon had seen many a raven in his life before now. Most of them in the rookery. But this one was strange. Its beady black eyes seemed to hold some form of intelligence that made Jon uncomfortable.
"Go away" the boy hissed at it, flailing his arm out. But the raven did not even budge. It opened its beak instead.
"Snow! Snow!" it called out and Jon stood frozen on the spot. Did it call out to him? Surely not. Ravens speaking a few words did not surprise Jon. Maester Luwin had said that Ravens did such things if they hear the words a lot. So maybe it was just repeating the word it heard.
The bird spread its wings wide and took flight. Jon was barely able to dodge the thing as it flew at him. The gust ruffled his hair slightly and Jon stood straight. The bird was now on the other side of the stables.
"Snow! Snow!' it cawed again and took flight. Jon felt himself being pulled towards it and he ran after it. The Raven flew around the whole open yard before it led Jon to the entrance of the crypts. Jon stood there in silence and intently watched the doors. The gates were never closed and remained chained against the walls. Every time Jon even came close to this place, he could feel a pull towards it. But he had never gone in. Not before now. He descended the steps to the crypts, hearing the echoes of the Raven's call. The stairs were spiraling and the stone was wet. He had to be careful as to not trip and fall. But once he had descended, it was a straight walk. The crypts were never totally lit. A few torches burned to just fight back the darkness. In the dim light he studied the faces of every single statue, each a King of Winter. And then there were the Wardens of The North, after Aegon Targaryen had made them bend the knee on the back of his dragon. He soon found himself passing by the statues of his grandfather and uncle Brandon. But he stopped right in front of the statue of his aunt Lyanna. The crypts went on past that but Jon didn't need to go beyond her. For the Raven was perched on the stone's head.
"Snow!" it called again. But Jon was busy studying the features of the statue. Lord Stark never talked about his sister. Even when asked he would just recount how she was kidnapped and nothing more. So, Jon knew next to nothing about her. Yet as he looked at her, he couldn't help but feel a familiarity with her. One that went beyond just faces and names.
"Now it begins" a foreign voice spoke and Jon suddenly found himself in the middle of sand and sun. Before him stood a large tower and men ready to fight.
"No. Now it ends" spoke another voice. This one Jon found was somewhat familiar. It was maybe how the words were said or maybe the accent. He knew it was a Northern man.
Right before him the fight broke, seven versus three. But soon the fight was two versus one and the Northern boy was on the losing end. He was about to die Jon realized, his heart racing in his chest. But to his relief he saw the other one land a blow on the back of the knight and the Northern boy dealt the finishing blow. But there was no celebration for them. A piercing female scream made the Northern man stare up at the tower before breaking into a run. Jon followed the man up the steps.
The scene inside the tower made Jon take a physical step back. There was blood all over the bed where a female was laying. Her hair was a mess, sweat making it wet. The Northern boy ran to her and knelt beside her. "Lyanna" the boy said softly. But the panic was clear in his voice.
"Is that you? Is that really you?" the girl asked and raised her hand slowly. The boy took it and the girl let out a laugh. "You're not a dream" he spoke with joy in her voice.
"No, I'm not a dream. I'm here. Right here" a tear rolled down the boy's face.
"I've missed you, big brother" the girl whispered softly.
"I've missed you, too" the boy said it back with a shaky voice. "I don't want to die" the girl whimpered when the boy lifted the hand he had on her stomach and saw blood on his hand. Jon's own stomach gave a violent. By now he had recognized just who this boy was .How could he not? He looked so much like himself after all. And that brought the realization of who the girl was. He was watching his father failing to save his little sister. He watched Ned panic, standing and shouting for water and a Maester. But Lyanna called him back and brought him close to her.
"If Robert finds out, he'll kill him, you know he will. You have to protect him. Promise me, Ned. Promise me" Lyanna whispered and one of the handmaidens walked forward with a bundle in her arms. "Promise me Ned" Lyanna said again.
"I promise" Ned spoke gave his word and Jon found himself suddenly lacking breath and having dryness in his throat. His father never talked about another child, that too the child of the little sister he loved so much. What happened to the child? He had survived Jon was all too sure about. Then where was he? The answer to that question came to him faster than he had wanted and suddenly his knees felt weak.
"Jon" the voice of Ned spoke and Jon turned around. The older version of his father stood there, a hand on his shoulder. Slowly his surroundings dimmed out and he was back in the crypts, Ghost squirming under his cloak. "Why are you crying?" the Lord of Winterfell asked and Jon noticed the wetness on his face. With the free hand he wiped the tears away and Ned went to stand beside him, facing the statue. He said nothing and Jon stood there calming himself down and readying his thoughts. "You don't usually come down here" Ned spoke after a moment of silence, still looking at the face of his sister.
"I saw a Raven fly down here" Jon spoke in a shaky voice and Ned gave him a curious look. "It settled on aunt Lyanna's statue and was calling my name"
"Must have heard it from somewhere" Ned explained. But Jon wasn't done just yet.
"Then I saw a tower somewhere with lots of sand. Seven people were fighting three knights" if he had noticed, he would have seen Ned stiffen suddenly. But Jon wasn't done yet. He told him exactly what he had seen, starting from the fight to where he saw Lyanna on the bed dying. He left nothing out.
"She made you promise. To protect her son from King Robert" Jon stated it blankly, his eyes red and tears falling freely from them. "And you did! I don't know how I saw it but I did. It was not a dream so you cannot shrug it off. Tell me the truth father. Swear the truth on my life and the memory of your younger sister. Who am I? Am I really your bastard?"
Ned Stark stared blankly at Jon with a multitude of emotions running wild in his eyes. Jon met that stare with a confident glare of his own. He was holding Ghost tight to himself and the wolf was squirming slightly in his hold. "You're crushing the pup" Ned finally said with a somber voice.
"That's not what I wanted to know" Jon hissed out. But he did loosen the grip on Ghost and the pup relaxed once more. "Please, tell me the truth"
"You are not my bastard" Ned said it in a whisper. "You are the son of my younger sister Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen" he confessed. But the confession did nothing to comfort him. Instead Jon found himself short of breath and his legs weak once more.
"My life is a lie" Jon whispered, staring wide eyed at the ground. "So, what am I? Rape spawn? Why didn't you tell me?!"
"It was not safe" Ned cut in sharply. "It still is not to this day. Robert still holds hatred for the Targaryens. If he finds out you will be killed on the spot with no trial or otherwise. And I will not let him do that" Ned cupped Jon's face gently and Jon almost pulled away from the touch. "You are still my son. I was the one that raised you. I'm the one that looks after you like you are my own. And that will not change. No matter who your parents are" he leaned in close and planted a soft kiss on Jon's forehead. "Go to your room for tonight. I'll have someone bring you the food so you can eat there. We'll talk on this matter in details on the morrow" and with those words Ned walked away, his posture stiff. Jon watched him go before looking back at the statue of Lyanna Stark, his mother. He stayed in the crypts for a while longer before he walked away from there.