Disclaimer: I not own anything apart from the plot and my own creations. The universe of ASOIF is solely owned by GRRM, and the adaptation by HBO.

Good read!


« Your grace, the Queen,

I am pleased to let you know that my journey and arrival to the great Volantis was uneventful for the most part. Only a few rats and pirates, nothing really troubling I reckon.

The venerable triarch Doniphos Paenymion has fetched for me immediately at the Harbor when the ship arrived. He currently hosts me graciously into his own ancestral home for the entire duration of me stay in the Old City.

We already discussed the terms for his help, immediately at our first meeting, I was glad for the direct approach to be honest with you, and to my mind, his price is very much correct. I feel, my Queen, that it will be much more safe if I do not transmit his message in this letter, in the case something unfortunate came to happen to our correspondence during its journey.

The Library is truly a sight to behold, as much as the entire city of Volantis, and has much potential for my quest. My research has only began but I already have collected more information that in the entirety of Meereen's accessible records. The time of my return will be dependent on the results of said reads, but I will apply myself to be as swift as possible for Your Grace.

On another matter, if the Spider's little birds didn't already transmit the information, I am pleased, my Queen, to let you know that one of your dragons has been spotted flying over Volantis a couple of days after their escape. I do not unfortunately have anything to say about Rhaegal.

Please remain well,

Lord Tyrion Lannister."

Ambivalent feelings surged in Daenerys when she finished the imp's letter she received only a few moments ago. She trusted the Lannister (what an irony indeed!) in the complicated matters of politics and diplomacy. She knew that she had much to learn about those subjects if she wanted to meet success as a Queen, and having such a brilliant and renowned mind to her service could only be beneficial. If he said the bargain was fair, it probably was.

However, she also knew that diplomacy and good relations with other political figures could sometimes be incompatible with her aspirations and ambitions as a Queen and conqueror.

She guessed she would have to wait for his return and listen to what Tyrion would have to pass on, to make the final decision about the Volantene's end of the bargain.

Also, the confirmation about Viserion's moves by a trusted adviser was very much welcome. She was completely aware that she couldn't trust Varys entirely, who knew what his agenda was, but she had to make concessions it seemed, because his network of spies, little birds as he called them, was very much useful in lots of situations. Information is key, it appeared. Nonetheless, she was worried and anxious. She paced in her solar from one and to another as questions marched succinctly through her head.

Where could Rhaegal be? If Viserion went west or towards the less populated north of Essos, where was he headed? And, the most important, why did they separate in different directions? Did they have specific locations to go to? Were they that cognizant?

If those two, who were the less rambunctious of her children, didn't stay together, she could really not imagine them reuniting with Drogon, who had always been the more problematic of them all.

The black dragon was the one that at the same time depended the most and the less on her. Her link with him was the strongest, but Drogon was recalcitrant. He was troubled and caused much trouble. But, at the same time, even if he was the most rebellious one, he was always tied to her. Often, Rhaegal and Viserion were aloof, ignored her or even tried to attack her if she attempted to make them obey to her, unlike their black sibling who after much repetition, in the end succumbed to her worded commands.

If the two, Viserion and Rhaegal, went away from her location, she knew, deep down, that Drogon stayed in the surroundings of Meereen. And, it warmed her heart in the same time that it worried her. An uncontrollable dragon was a heavy duty on the shoulder's of the small people in Meereen's environs.

She hoped that Tyrion's quest to find useful information on dragons and dragonlords in Volantis will be a success. Because she needed it direly. She had to understand them to control them and to make a good use of them in the coming war to retake her rightful throne. Or it would all be for naught, a Dragon Queen, Mother of Dragons she was called, without any children to listen to her.

Meanwhile, in Meereen, she still had to stabilize her power on the city. She knew that their victory a forenight before the Lannister's departure, in the attempted coup d'état by the Sons of the Harpy had a huge impact on the populace. It was much more subdued and frowning since then. The market emptier, the children sadder and the men angrier.

However, it did not stop the numerous attempts on her life.

Even if dozens of their numbers died in the attempt to kill her and her government in the grand Arena was a failure, thanks to her vigilant Unsullied and the timely action of Drogon's flames, the Sons still sent assassins for her and killed every one of her soldiers they could access.

She was conscious of the fact that unrelenting oppressiveness will not have a positive effect on the people of Meereen, but she still had to send organized patrolling troops every few hours through the streets in order to show that they could not make her fear them. She, and she only, was the new ruler of the city, she was their Queen. Even if it tore her heart apart to make people that relied on her suffer, she had to show strength through the use of violence to stop further spilling of blood and political insecurity.

A broken sigh escaped her lips from the unease and despair she felt. It was not only about the current situation of her city, which was dire indeed, but also from the dominating worry about the state of her precious children flying away from her. A mother always worries, she heard. She hoped they would remain safe and unharmed, and, mostly, that they would not cause too much trouble wherever they landed.


The bleak light of the morning sun woke Jon from his uncomfortable sleep in between the hard granites that concealed him for the night. He could feel and see the piles of snow amounting the high points of his face and body, covering the furs on his skin. It did not seem to him that feeling accustomed to not having the full sensation of the cold will come very soon. He was grateful that he would not die from frozen blood and cold bones, but he was still uncomfortable with the idea that some kind of fire burned in his own body, warming him from the inside.

Jon looked out of the mounts of stone slowly to assess any hostile presence, namely guards, here. He knew there must still be patrols, or at least a new batch of patrolmen coming with the dawn. Carefully, once he surmised no one was near, he climbed out difficultly of the hiding place he improvised the night before.

"Ghost!" he called in a mixture of a shout and a whisper. After a long moment where he thought the direwolf went away, he looked left as he heard a small branch cracking under the beast's weight. Relief surged through him at the sight of the white huge wolf holding in his jaws a pale rabbit. He had been worried when his faithful companion had not emerged from the bush he saw him lie in the previous evening.

Jon salivated at the sight of a fresh piece of meat. He hadn't eaten anything but hard roots and a meager amount of frozen fruit the day before, and after his adventures in Winterfell, hunger gnawed at his guts unrelentingly.

He decided to make his need wait and first reunite with Viserion in order to find a place to rest properly. Where they would be able to start a fire without a huge risk of discovery. He walked towards the west, using trees and stones they,his siblings and him, marked as rambunctious children to locate himself in the Wolfswood.

As he heard a small grunt coming from what could only be a giant animal, Jon surmised he did not lose his ability to travel through the dangerous forest even after the substantial time he was parted from Winterfell. Only a dragon could emit such a sound.

The sight of his white scales and golden horns appeased him. Made him feel safe. He approached gently and securely the dragon and slowly caressed his powerful snout. His other hand descended to the snow white pelt of his old friend.

The box he had safely guarded under his arm throughout his entire journey among the frozen leaves and trees, suddenly felt heavy to him. As if, when the feeling of safety came, it also brought the heaviness of the revelations that awaited him.

He knew that whatever would be revealed in his mother's letter he did not have the time to read entirely in the crypts, would have the effect of an earthquake on his life. Already knowing that Ned Stark was not, in fact, his blood, his father, put tears in his eyes and uncertainty in his heart.

Slowly, he detached himself from his two bonded beasts and decided that staying in the clearing would not remain safe for much longer.

He asked Viserion through their link if he could look out for a big enough cave or abandoned place in order for them to rest and eat. The dragon, to show his compliance, lowered slightly his head and moved it from left to right, in a full circle.

In a sudden movement he took flight and pushed through their connection the sight he had. Jon could see himself underneath, Ghost at his side, and then the dragon looked to the right, where in a few hundred feet he could see the entrance of a cave in the start of the nearest mountains, big enough to even host Viserion comfortably.

He nodded to the dragon in appreciation and told him gently to find a prey for himself. As he marched in the direction he had been showed, he saw the majestic beast fly over their heads and hunt for food.

The walk had been unhurried and careful. Jon did not want to fall in a guard's ambush in his haste for shelter and food. His feet on the frozen ground were soft and Ghost remained as silent as ever by his side. On the way, he grabbed some provisions such as winter berries and nuts to eat when the meat disappeared.

The opening of the natural cave was wide but not very high. He had to crouch a little bit to pass through the threshold without hitting himself. He went further down the cave and finally reached a wider room where traces of human occupation could be seen: polished rocks to rest on, engravings on the walls and a circle of stones where the fire was intended to be.

Jon put down the box and foods he had carried until then on one of the banks. He turned to Ghost and talked as though he had a human mind.

"Ghost, stay here and guard the treasure please. It is very important. I am going just outside to fetch wood for the pit."

And he did just that. As he came back, arms laden with pieces of wood he found on the grounds or took from dead trees, he saw Viserion was already there, sleeping after the feast he had no doubt swallowed just before.

He arranged a small mount of small wood in the ring of stones, and after a moment, wondered how to start the fire. There were no pieces dry enough to have a strong enough friction to create a spark. He looked at Viserion, smiled, and asked him to send fire to the prepared pyre.

Unfortunately for his clothing, he did not have the presence of mind to consider the strength and wideness of the dragonfire. The few furs he had patched up enough to cover his arms burned instantly.

He laughed after a moment of surprise, at the sight of the jarred clothes. It was not much of a trouble since he already had to find appropriate ones after his burned in his attempted funeral pyre. The laughter appeased the tensions that had been building up inside him. It released a wave of content through his nerves that calmed him immediately while a small smile came to rest on his lips.

The rabbit Ghost had killed for him had been succulent after cooking him on a spindle above the fire. He had skinned the carcass and carefully cut through the fur to use it in the future, after boiling it evidently. Smile always in place.

Satiety made him languish and sleepy. However, he resisted the call of his coming dreams and instead opened the problematic box to reach his mother's letter.

He grabbed it carefully, as if it would explode if not handled with care. The same caress he had done the day before was repeated on the rich parchment that moment. He contemplated for a long moment the wisdom of opening it.

In his mind, he could still backtrack. He could still remain the baseborn son of the great Eddard 'Ned' Stark. He could still remain part of the loving family he had grown up with. He could still remain the problem of Lady Stark.

But, he knew, in his heart and troubled conscience, none of those things could be. They were all dead. Betrayed. Tortured. Butchered. Burned. Injustice had been the prize for their honor and power.

Still, reading the letter would only be a confirmation that everything he had ever known would crumble just before him. His family. His home. His watch on the Wall that died with him when they betrayed him. Everything would be left in the ashes of dragonfire, and Jon was not sure if he was ready to face this.

After moments of contemplation, turning and petting the richness of the paper continuously, he decided that he could not cower in front of the truth. If he did, he would only dishonor them all. His brother Robb, his precious Arya, his father Ned. He would always consider him as that he had then decided, whatever the actual truth of his parentage may be. He raised him as his own, and he could not renounce him.

His mind made up, and barriers of memories put at the front of his thoughts, his fingers unrolled the letter and held the elegant cursive writing in front of him.

"My baby boy,

I hope that wherever you are, you are safe and healthy. It breaks my heart to write this to you instead of saying it to you as a young handsome man, but I feel my body already fading away to nothingness. If Ned respected his promise as I know he will, for that is the man he is, you have been protected and kept away from numerous people. You will probably think you are his bastard, a Snow, or maybe Sand if he instead takes in consideration that you were born in Dorne. However, dear, it is not the truth of the matter…

I hope against all hope that Ned has prepared you for the truth, but I know in my heart and conscience that it shall probably not be the case. If he protects you, he can most certainly not tell you.

I am your mother. Lyanna Stark. Daughter of Lord Rickard and Lady Lyarra Stark, Wardens of the North. Sister to Brandon, Eddard and Benjen. Be assured that you remain as much of a Stark as you always thought you were, my little wolf. However, ice is not the only thing that flows through your veins my child. Fire is just as powerful in you.

You are not only Direwolf, you are also Dragon.

In you, runs the blood of kings. Kings of the North and Winter, and also Targaryen kings. Your father was the Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.

Please do not make assumptions in your haste. I know that erroneous stories fly through the tongues of the Realm, the result of scheming evil minds, but the truth you will discover in the journals I left for you.

My little Jon, know that both of your parents loved you very much. Your father sang to you when you were still in the womb and I hope his gentle soul passed in you.

The forces of life are slowly living me, I fear. Please beware of danger. Many will seek to kill you, use you or manipulate you for the blood in your veins and your rightful claim to the throne. Protect yourself. Protect those you held dear to the full extent of your abilities. Do not cower in face of fear, make it your greatest source of power. Be courageous and honorable for Winter is Coming.

Make your own rules and be your own man. Do not let established ways and customs make a slave of you.

Do not be full of yourself, but have confidence. Do not obey blindly, but respect others. Treat everyone with the same regard: peasants, farmers, whores, beggars and lords are all your people.

Be safe my love. Live fully. Be wise. Make love, honor and strength the words of your life my son.

Your mother that loves you deeply and will remain by your side for ever,

Lyanna Stark Targaryen."


Hope that you all liked it!

As always if you have any question, recommendation, grammatical or spelling error to point out, or would just like to let me know your feelings on the story, please feel free to do so by reviewing. I always reply!

See you soon!