Chapter 20

As Jon woke up, his first thought was that this had to be a dream. After all, the room around him was completely alien and not at all like the Winterfell he grew up in. However, as his memories started trickling in, he realized this wasn't a dream at all, but instead part of a different world.

The bed he was in felt unlike his own bed, but in a good way. That was the only reason why he had even slept at all, given all that happened yesterday.

Bran's surgery, which he and Bran's guards weren't allowed to attend, had gone well according to the female Maester. Jon had thanked the old gods when he heard that news, and hoped that his brother would wake up today.

Opposite of Jon was a large pane of black glass. When he came into this room in the local inn, he had been too tired to notice it. However, he now wondered what could be the use of that.

On top of the room, there was another weird contraption, but one he knew the use off. When the sun set yesterday, he had been shocked to see bright lights appear above him. Apparently, using some kind of lever, one is able to turn on those smokeless lights. Moreover, since almost every building in this alien city has those lights, the whole city lights up like a bonfire during the night. Seeing this sight while riding to the inn had truly been an otherworldly experience.

After Jon got out of the bed, he moved to take advantage of another otherworldly invention. Somehow, the foreigners had made an ingenious system of warm water and pipes far beyond even that of Winterfell itself. Thin ran not only through this inn, but through the whole city. Using this system and some mechanical magic, their privies cleaned themselves after pressing a lever and fresh drinking water was always available. Similarly, the contraption Jon planned to use was described by a servant of the inn as a warm waterfall. Given that it had been a week since Jon last washed himself, he decided to give it a try.

The steaming waterfall far exceeded his expectations, as Jon had never felt more relaxed than under the endless stream of water. If Bran hadn't needed him at the so-called hospital, he might have stayed under this contraption for hours. Alas, after quickly scrubbing himself clean, he turned off the contraption and readied himself for the day.

While the foreigners had offered to buy him a set of local clothes that were more suitable for the warmer weather here, he didn't feel comfortable taking up said offer. Maybe once Bran was awake, he would try out one of their strange garments. However, for now, he would just wear his tunic and trousers, leaving his coat here.

Since Jon had been tired and overwhelmed upon arriving at the local inn, he hadn't been able to check out the place he and Bran's guards would be staying at. The only thing he remembered being the iron cage that moved upwards via some unseen mechanism. Hence, after using the same wonderful contraption to get downstairs, Jon was taken by surprise when he saw what appeared to be a small black bordered portal, hanging on one of the walls. However, what was beyond said portal was even more disturbing.

"By the gods! Is that the Wall?!"

On the other side of the portal, Jon saw what could only be the wall in its full glory. After all, as far as he knew, no other wall with a height measured in the hundreds of feet made of ice existed. Did that mean the foreigners knew how to create portals and lied about it?

After a few seconds of wondrous observation, he started to notice that something was off. Not only did it look like the other side of the portal was situated on top of a mountain, but it seemed to move at unbelievable speeds. On top of that, he heard a female voice speak from the direction of the portal in a very familiar tongue.

Just as he was solving the puzzle of the portal, the other side suddenly switched from the sky-view of the Wall to what could only be an otherworldly building. On the other side, a woman dressed similarly to the female minister who visited Winterfell continued to speak in the same voice he heard earlier.

"You weren't kidding about your giant wall, weren't you? How on earth did your people build it so high?"

Mesmerized by the supposed portal, Jon hadn't heard their escort Hauswald arrive behind him. Although Jon didn't know why the man was surprised, seeing as the foreigners could make buildings that were of similar height as the wall, he answered honestly.

"The story goes that my ancestor, Bran the Builder, build it thousands of years ago with the help of giants."

"Even so, building a wall that high and long would have required generations of people working on it, not to mention highly advanced knowledge of engineering. And even then it shouldn't have survived in such a good state for so long." Hauswald replied, clearly skeptical of Jon's answer.

"Well, it's the truth as far as I know it. Besides, do you know what that weird black portal does? I thought your people were unable to create portals to our world?"

"That thing is called a television, and it is able to show you things filmed by people from all around the world, even as they happen. Those reporters I warned you about earlier, they could have filmed you as you spoke with them and within an hour, most people in this country would have seen you talk. Speaking about that, look at the screen now."

As Jon looked back at the so-called television, he saw the enormous black portal between worlds. Then, suddenly, the point of view rushed forward towards a very familiar metal wheelhouse and helicopter. There, although very vaguely, he saw the outlines of himself, Bran, their direwolves and their escort as they moved towards the flying contraption.

"What? But, how?!"

"One of those reporters had a very good camera. Anyway, you and Bran are famous now. Being both sons of real medieval Lords, and two of the first people from Planetos to visit here, there was no way that wouldn't have happened. Though I expected it to be more overshadowed by the Glover debacle."

"But, I'm just a bastard. Bran is the only one of us who's a trueborn Lord's son."

"Most people won't even know that, and if they do, they'll either not care at all, or be even more interested in you."

Jon remembered his earlier conversation with Patrick and realized this world may truly not look down upon bastards at all, which would be almost as unfathomable as the existence of steel dragons.

"Anyways, your fellow Westerosi have already gotten here, so it's time to leave. By the way, you had one of the tamest reactions to our television. One of your knights needed to be talked down after drawing his sword here in the lobby. Although, to be fair to him, the news was talking about the Syrian civil war."

Jon. having been fooled by the contraption himself, didn't blame him in the slightest. After they reached the fabulously decorated entrance of the inn, he heard Hauswald mumble something in his own native language before addressing them.

"We have a problem. The press found out about your location and now there're more than a dozen journalists waiting outside, between us and our ride. While I would recommend ignoring them, you are of course free to answer their questions. Just keep in mind that everything you say is watched by millions via those televisions we saw earlier."

Hauswald hadn't lied about those so-called journalists. As soon as they left through the glass doors of the inn, they were greeted by flashes of light and a small horde of people, some of them holding an oddly shaped black stick.

"How is life as a lord's son on the other world?"

"Are you overwhelmed by the differences between worlds?"

"Are you upset that Germany and the Netherlands stole your father's land?"

"Do you agree that the German military acted irresponsibly and your countryman should be released immediately?"

Jon took a step backwards from both the sheer number of questions and the lack of space those people gave him. If Ghost was here, his companion might have attacked those men.

"Everybody, stay back! You're scaring the boy and preventing him from seeing his injured brother!"

Even though Jon, as a grown man of almost fifteen name days, didn't like being called a boy by Hauswald, it did cause the so-called journalists to back off.

Before entering the iron wheelhouse, he heard how a few of them tried to interrogate Bran's guards, but they didn't get anything more than a "Get out of the way!" for their efforts.

Inside the iron wheelhouse, Jon mused on the questions asked by the reporters. Why were they asking him, a bastard, the type of questions only his father could answer? And there was something else too.

"Ser Hauswald, why did it seem like those people wanted me to denounce Germany?"

"Well, that is mostly because it would boost their viewer numbers. However, there is also some significant opposition in Germany against the recent actions of our government, most notably the way we bought your father's lands."

"What was wrong with that? Did their leaders offer too much for it?" Jon asked in confusion.

"No, quite the opposite. They believe we're cheating you out of your land and shouldn't even have attempted to buy it, no matter how much sense it makes strategically."

Jon felt like he would never fully understand these foreigners.

"Ghost!" Jon exclaimed happily as his companion rushed towards him.

"I've never seen a dog even half as calm and composed as Ghost." Maester Klinger, who had arrived in Bran's room early, mentioned. "Professional dog trainers could learn a thing or two from you."

This was vastly different from yesterday, when she had been opposed to the idea of letting Ghost and his brother's wolf stay near Bran. However, after Bran's unnamed pup made it clear he was not leaving Bran alone, and Hauswald said some words in his own language, she had relented.

Speaking of Bran, his brother was lying peacefully on his bed. Although Jon might have imagined it, he thought Bran looked healthier than yesterday. Hopefully it meant his brother would wake up soon.

Before Jon could ask, the female Measter already answered his unsaid question.

"Your co... brother is still doing well. His sleep seems more natural now, and it wouldn't surprise me if he woke up within an hour."

This wasn't the first time one of the foreigners had trouble speaking the common tongue, so Jon dismissed the stuttering in the female Maester's words.

"While we wait for him to join us, I can share the initial results of our DNA analysis."

Jon's interest was piqued when that small word was mentioned, as he remembered it to be the name of the contraption that could look back in time.

"We're now confident that our worlds have been connected before, as the DNA of Bran, Dylar and Erner is far too similar to that of early Eurasians for it to be a coincidence. From the appearance of the threonine allele, we've deduced that another portal likely opened somewhere around Eastern Europe or the Middle East in between 18 and 11 thousand years ago."

Though most of what the Maester said was magic to Jon's ears, he noticed one thing.

"You mentioned Bran and the other's, but what about me?"

"While one of your parents is almost certainly a descendent of the group of Caucasus Hunter Gatherers that crossed through the portal, the other is not. In fact, we've no clue yet what historical lineage your f.. parent might be related to."

Wait, did that imply?!

"Are you able to find out who my mother is?"

Even though his father had promised to tell him, Jon was not going to wait months if the foreigners knew the answer already.

However, the female Maester was reluctant to answer him, and eventually said: "Although we have some ideas on who she was, I don't think we should be the ones telling you that."

"What?! Why can't you just tell me who she is?! I've waited years for my father to even drop a hint of where she lived, what she was like or even just her name. And now I finally have the chance to learn something about her, and even you refuse me!"

Maester Klinger was taken aback by the fierceness in Jon's voice. Seemingly conflicted she thought for a moment before opening her mouth.

However, Jon didn't get to hear her answer as Bran's silvery grey wolf let out a loud bark before jumping on Bran's bed.

"Jon, what is this place?" A familiar, but frail voice called out. There, on the bed, sat Jon's now awake little brother with wide-open eyes, and a wolf pressed against his body.

AN: As always, thanks to everyone who left a review, followed, or favourited my story! You are the ones who keep me motivated.

Apologies for not meeting my 2-week schedule, too many things happened to take up my free time in the weeks around new years. Hopefully, I'll finish the next chapter sooner.

From your feedback, I've decided to change the chapter titles to include the PoV in brackets. The changes should be visible soon.