Wolf of Numenor

by keller.blair1

Jon snow the bastard of Eddard Stark has spent the last six years in Highgarden finding true friends among the reach lords and ensnared the heart of the golden rose. His Journey shall take him to lands far from the shores of Westeros and here he shall find true kinship among the faithful. Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien sinomë maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta.

51. Birth of the king

The chapter was so long i had to split it into two parts some 30,000 words in total so kindly leave a review

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Jon found himself floating in a current as if a river were drawing him downstream; The grey rain-curtain of the world rolled back, and all turned to silver glass, and then he saw it the fortress of Mandos where all of Eru's children reside after their death.

Jon knew that it was an endless fortress of winding passages and tunnels meant to house all the Fëa of Arda, and even deeper in this great fortress was the doors of night where Morgoth was cast out into the void.

But Jon didn't expect this ...

Very vast were those caverns that they made stretching even down under the Shadowy Seas, and they are full of gloom and filled with echoes, and all that deep abode is known to Gods and Elves as Mandos.

"So I come here now to rest, at least my merry tale was interesting..." Jon said with some bitterness.

"It is not necessary to be so cynical, young mortal ... Although, many who have passed through these halls have acted as you have done ..." Said a deep voice surprising Jon, who turned to see who spoke to him.

Standing behind him was the spectral form; he seemed one of the Noldor; despite his ethereal appearance, he could see that this figure was tall, dark and proud dressed in silvered mail and upon his brow was a circlet of silver, he appeared most proud and valiant as akin to an Elven king of old and Jon had never stood before an Elf of such beauty save perhaps the Lady Galadriel.

"I am Jon Snow... And I know we are in the Uttermost West, where now is the Doomsman who shall be my judge? " Jon said, speaking solemnly, though the elf said nothing, merely gazing at him as if peering into his soul.

They stayed that way for a long time until that elf sighed.

"I apologize for not answering your question, but I sensed your spirit was bound to one whom I love", Said that mysterious elf.

"Who are you?" Jon asked curiously as he knew this was no mere elf.

"My name is Fingolfin ... Son of Finwë and Indis, brother of Finarfin, Findis.. and Írimë who was your lover," Said that elf with a slightly scathing tone.

It was then that Jon knelt in reverence of the mighty elf.

"I ... I am honoured to be ... In the presence of you oh noble king of the north who alone stood before the Great Enemy ..." Jon said, bowing.

When the elf saw him, he smiled slightly and approached Jon.

"It is not necessary so much formality Jon, I know very well who you are and what you have achieved .. Herenlóunga," Fingolfin said with a smile.

"My Lord ..." But the noble elf stopped him.

"Be silent, Jon.. we have little time for pleasantries; come with me," Fingolfin said in an authoritative tone.

"Where are we going, my lord?" Jon asked curiously.

"To the throne of Námo... There he and the King of Arda await you. I was sent by them to receive you as your soul is rather mystifying," The elf said, slightly worried.

"How so?" Jon asked.

"Try to walk ..." Fingolfin said sadly, and Jon did, but when he took two steps, he felt like he lost all his strength, and fatigue overwhelmed him.

"What's wrong with me? ... I feel as though my bones have turned to steel," Jon thought with surprise.

"What's wrong with me? ... I thought I would be free of all pain save for my sins?" The young Targaryen said, looking up as Fingolfin helped him to his feet.

"All will be revealed by the High King ... Come, quickly," said Fingolfin helping Jon walk.

"Thank you ..." Jon said.

For a time, they walked through the rooms of command; the great cavern was adorned by the most splendid tapestries that Jon had ever seen; many told tales that he knew from his time in the Grey Havens while others were utterly unknown to him.

"The work of Lord Námo's wife, Vairë, is splendid; her beautiful tapestries have adorned these halls for many ages telling the story of Arda," Said Fingolfin smiling at Jon's astonished look.

"They are without equal", Jon said, feeling rather cheerful as they journeyed through those vast halls they saw the Fea of many an Elf who were rather surprised to see a mortal being led by their King.

"Though I am rather bewildered, I thought these halls would be far more foreboding ..." Jon said.

"These are the halls of the Eldar. You are one of the few mortals who enter them. The halls of the Atani are in a different and far section of the fortress from where we are now," Fingolfin said to a surprised Jon.

"Why am I here and not with my people?" Jon said.

"Patience, young lord, your questions will be answered ... We are almost there", said Fingolfin looking up at the grand stairs that wound ever upward into shadow.

"By the Valar ..." a terrified Jon whispered as Fingolfin held back his laughter.

"I uttered those words when I entered these halls so many centuries ago," He said with a dreamy expression.

"And we must ascend these stairs?" Jon asked, somewhat startled.

"Of course, a young wolf," Fingolfin said sarcastically.

"He has the same biting wit as my sweet Lalwen; it seems they are alike in many ways," Jon thought, with great sadness, knowing he would never gaze upon his lovers again.

Feeling Jon's discomfort, Fingolfin sympathized with him as he longed to be in the arms of his beloved Anaire again.

"And whom I should never have left", thought Fingolfin bitterly.

"Come now, Jon Snow ... I'm afraid our meeting must be brief as the Elder King and the Doomsman awaits you ..." Fingolfin said with resolution.

"That is all well and good, my Lord... but why are you aiding me?" Jon asked, confused, as he followed after the High King.

Fingolfin didn't respond at first, and Jon believed he had offended him.

"Well ... Actually, I had hoped to have this discussion when we reached the top, but the road is long, and I think we have much to speak of," Fingolfin said with a smile.

"What do you propose, my Lord?" Jon asked curiously.

"Throughout this fortress are great pools of water blessed by Lord Ulmo that grant us the ability to peer into the world beyond as if we were gazing through a mirror we hoping to see those whom we love, until we are given new life, or they join us here", said Fingolfin with a sigh.

"And Fingolfin has watched his descendants for many ages," Jon guessed.

"I saw the death of my daughter Aredhel whose impulsiveness led her to death, I also saw the fall of my sons Fingon and Turgon, who fell due to their pride and the betrayal of our own blood, and now they wander these halls much like my half brother Fëanor, "Fingolfin said with loathing so much so that Jon recoiled in fear.

"I'm sorry I frightened you," Fingolfin apologized.

"Think little of it, my Lord. I know the tales of their treachery," Jon said.

"Yes, but I have no wish to recount the tale of Fëanor, who shall never be free of his misery... Returning to our conversation... I also saw Eärendil and his sons Elrond and Elros, from whom the kings of Númenor descend," Said Fingolfin, who now looked at Jon with something like pride?

"I'm afraid I don't understand, my Lord ..." Jon said, causing Fingolfin to sigh in exasperation.

"Very good... Tell me, Jon, how much do you know about your mother's kin, House Stark?" Fingolfin asked, arching an eyebrow.

Jon only looked at Finwë's son in shock in all his days in Westeros and Middle-Earth; he had found no knowledge to indicate that the great houses were descended from the High Men of Númenor except for his beloved Shiera.

"I am well versed in the stories of my house, my Lord", replied Jon confidently.

"Excellent, then tell me the tale of House Stark ..." Fingolfin demanded with authority.

"What does he hope to achieve with this? ... we First Men share no kinship with the Noldor," Jon thought.

"Brandon Stark, also known as Brandon the Builder and Bran, the Builder, was the legendary founder of House Stark who is said to have lived during the Age of Heroes. Scholars believe an ancient king's actions have been exaggerated into legend, or the reigns of multiple kings have been remembered as one through the passage of time.

"What else?" Fingolfin asked impatiently.

"According to legend, Brandon built the Wall and Winterfell; some stories say he did this with the help of giants. According to a ballad in Maester Childer's Winter's Kings, or the Legends and Lineages of the Starks of Winterfell, Brandon also sought assistance from the children of the forest and learned to understand the True Tongue in order to do so.

Tales from the stormlands claim Brandon helped Durran Godsgrief build Storm's End when he was a boy. Some stories claim King Uthor of the High Tower commissioned Brandon to design the stone Hightower at Oldtown, while others state it was Brandon's son, who was also named Brandon.

It is said that Brandon gave the Night's Watch Brandon's Gift, a stretch of land twenty-five leagues wide, though some maesters argue this was done by another Brandon of House Stark. The Kings of Winter and Lords of Winterfell from House Stark descended from Brandon." Jon said, recalling everything he knew about his ancestor.

But Fingolfin didn't seem impressed.

"That's very good, Jon ... But now tell me who was his wife?" Fingolfin asked, amused when he saw the confused expression on Jon's face.

"His wife?" Jon asked, confused since in all the legends about the mythical founder of House Stark, the identity of his wife and Queen was never mentioned.

"I'm afraid that's beyond my knowledge ..." Jon acknowledged.

"Yes, I presumed so... Jon, the wife of Brandon" The Builder ",... Your ancestor was Almiel, the younger sister of Anardil, who later became known as Tar-Aldarion Sixth king of Númenor," Said Fingolfin with satisfaction, clearly amused by the shock of the young Stark.

"Excuse me, my Lord?" Jon asked in shock, believing that he had misheard while Fingolfin just laughed at his descendant's expression.

"Yes, I speak truly my child, all who call Brandon their forebear have the blood Númenor in their veins, and although a thousand of generations have passed, they all still carry the blood of the Three Peoples of the Noldor and the Three Houses of the Edain, as well as that of Melian mother of Lúthien "Fingolfin, said solemnly.

"I ... I ... How is it possible?" Jon asked, quite shocked.

"Almiel, despite being a Numenorean Princess, was a fiery woman ... much like your cousin Arya or your mother Lyanna," Said Fingolfin.

"And how was it possible that you came to know her?" Jon said, finally managing to get the words out.

"for many years Tar-Aldarion quarrelled with his wife Erendis and so to be free of her Tar-Aldarion travelled to Middle-earth to construct the first havens of Númenor in those lands, and so Almiel, who was a great friend of Erendis, hoped to convince her brother of his folly, she decided to go to Middle-earth in search of her brother, and thus became the first woman of Westernesse to set foot on those shores."

"Though it seems something went awry," Jon said, and Fingolfin nodded.

"A devastating storm sent by Ossë knocked the ship off balance and guided it into seas unknown to the Númenóreans," Fingolfin said.

Jon gulped at the name of Ossë as of all the Maia in Arda he was possibly the most violent of all.

From his studies, Jon had learned that Ossë is a vassal of Ulmo, and he is master of the seas that wash the shores of Middle-earth. He does not go in the deeps but loves the coasts and the isles and rejoices in the winds of Manwë, for in storm he delights, and laughs amid the roaring of the waves. His spouse is Uinen, the Lady of the Seas, whose hair lies spread through all waters under sky. All creatures she loves that live in the salt streams, and all weeds that grow there; to her mariners cry, for she can lay calm upon the waves, restraining the wildness of Ossë. Númenóreans lived long in her protection and held her in reverence equal to the Valar.

"The Great Enemy hated the Sea, for he could not subdue it. It is said that in the making of Arda, he endeavoured to draw Ossë to his allegiance, promising to him all the realm and power of Ulmo if he would serve him. So it was that long ago there arose great tumults in the sea that wrought ruin to the lands. But Uinen, at the prayer of Aulë, restrained Ossë and brought him before Ulmo; and he was pardoned and returned to his allegiance, to which he has remained faithful. For the most part; for the delight in violence has never wholly departed from him, and at times he will rage in his wilfulness without any command from Ulmo, his lord. Therefore those who dwell by the sea or go up in ships may love him, but they do not trust him."

"Although I owe him gratitude as he saved Sansa from her fate," Jon thought with trepidation.

"By the will of the Valar Almiel and their crew, they managed to reach an unknown continent and were able to settle there in what the people of that place would later call 'The Stormlands' .." Fingolfin said.

"They reached the shores of Westeros," Jon asked in surprise.

"Yes, but they could not return because the inhabitants of those lands set fire to their ships... Led by their King Durran who believed that the Númenóreans were spies of an enemy kingdom," Fingolfin said sadly.

"And they defeated them?" Jon asked, incredulous at the fact that Númenórean soldiers were defeated by the indigenous Westerosi.

"There were only twenty men and a Princess against an entire army, Jon. They had no hope of victory", Finwë's son replied sadly.

"And how did the paths of my ancestors cross?" Jon asked, enraptured by the story.

"Brandon had completed the castle of Storm's End for Durran, and he was grateful for his new fortress he gave Almiel along with all their treasure to him as payment," Fingolfin said with disgust.

"Did Durran offer a Princess of Númenor as a slave and concubine?" Jon asked in horror.

"He did not know of Almiel's identity, but even if he had known, it would have made little difference; however, Brandon took pity on the girl and accepted her only to save her from Durran's cruelty by taking her home with him," Fingolfin said.

"Winterfell ..." Jon said in surprise, and Fingolfin nodded.

"At first Almiel did not want any dealings with the" savages "who had slain her crew and treated her as a slave, but finally, after a great many years, she learned the language of those natives and was able to recount her tale to Brandon, alas she could not return to Númenor " as the men of the North were not skilled Mariners ... That broke Almiel's heart," Fingolfin said sadly.

"It's a sad story ..." Jon said sadly.

"The two served Erú's purposes; Brandon's courage and compassion charmed her, soon they were wed before the heart tree as thus Almiel became the first queen of winter and the Lady of Winterfell although Tar-Aldarion's sister loved Brandon deeply. The love of her homeland never left her heart, and through their union, her children and descendants carry the blood of Elros, "Fingolfin said sadly.

Jon only remained silent when he understood the implications of that story; he carried the blood of the dragon lords and the High Men of Númenor.

Jon and his cousins had been fascinated by those stories of great heroes and Mighty elves... And now they understand why ... They were the stories of their ancestors, they were the stories of his family.

Jon, Sansa, Arya and Bran and Rickon carried the blood of Finwë and Indis, of Fingolfin and Anaire, of Turgon and Elenwë, as well as the blood of Thingol and Melian.

They are descended from Beren and Lúthien as well as Tuor and Idril through Eärendil and Elwing and their son Elros.

They also descend from great mortal heroes such as Beor, and Barahir, the father of Beren, who saved the life of Finrod Felagund and Huor and Rian, who were the parents of Tuor they even shared blood with noble Túrin Turambar as he was the nephew of Huor.

"That's why I feel such kinship with the elves and Men of Númenor; I am no stranger, just a lost relative come home." Jon thought happily.

"I believe you ... My venerable ancestor, although it does me little good, my life has ended and this knowledge, although it fills me with happiness in this dark place, it does little for my lovers or cousins," Jon said sadly.

While Fingolfin smiled slightly, although he did not answer.

"We are here .." Said the noble elf to Jon's surprise.

"But what about the stairs?" Jon asked, surprised that he had gone all the way while Fingolfin watched him with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

"We are at the top, Jon... I told you that the story would pass the time now compose yourself we shall stand before the Powers of the World, Fingolfin said sternly.

Jon looked up with some embarrassment and great difficulty; before him were two figures, one of whom Jon knew very well the other was a stranger though Jon had some inkling as to his identity.

Sitting on a dark throne was an intimidating figure, a figure that could only be Mandos himself judging by his style of dress and rather queer appearance... The other figure was Manwë clad in his glittering raiment.

"I have fulfilled my order Lord Manwë, Lord Námo", Fingolfin said, bowing to the two Aratar.

"Thank you, Fingolfin... hello Jon... Of the many ways I thought we would see each other again ... I never thought that we would reunite like this," Said the King of Arda, his voice filled with regret.

"I'm sorry I cannot bow Lord Mawnë and Lord Námo, but I feel very weak although I should no longer feel the weariness of life," Jon said, regretting his lack of manners before the Valar.

The look that both Valar gave him at that moment made Jon assume that something was gravely wrong.

"We shall speak of your malady shortly, Jon... Although I must admit that the fact that you are enduring death and are not unsettled is rare, no one among the second born has shown such humility when standing before Namo," Manwë said proudly for Jon.

But Jon sighed.

"That is because I was responsible for my own death Lord Manwë; the savagery of my wolf clouded my mind, and that led me to folly that claimed the life of Lord Celeborn, "Jon said in a guilty voice.

"We shall discuss that in due time... But now you must not answer only to me," Manwë said, stepping aside leaving Jon to stand before the Doomsman of the Valar", who looked at the young Westerosi with indifference.

"Welcome, Jon Snow ... You have travelled many paths to come here," Námo said in a powerful but dispassionate way.

Hearing his voice, Jon was approached by distant memories in which Lord Ulmo showed him the pronouncement of the Curse of Mandos, and the knowledge that he now stood before its master filled him with dread.

"Lord Námo, I finally meet him, none escape the judgement of the Doomsman, and so now I shall face mine," Jon said with a resigned sigh.

And to their surprise, neither Manwë nor Námo uttered a word.

"No, Jon Snow... It is not time for your judgment... Not yet... You have been brought here for another reason," Namo said, putting a hand to his chin and now looking at him with slight interest.

"Why am I here then? Is it not my time to depart Middle-Earth?" Jon asked, bewildered.

"I'm afraid Jon, we can't allow it... Your task is not finished .." Manwë said compassionately.

Jon wished to question the King of Arda, but as he took a few steps, he felt weariness overcome him, and he collapsed before the three Lords.

"What's happening to me?" Jon said, struggling to get up as Manwë stared at the Lord of Command.

At that moment, Fingolfin helped Jon up, and Námo sighed.

"It is as Manwë feared, the blood that this young man inherited from his mother did not let him come here completely... Half of his soul stands before us... The other half remains in Middle-Earth," Namo said; he stood before Jon like a tower and cast a shadow over him like a stormcloud.

"What do you mean that half of my soul is in Middle Earth, Lord Námo?" Jon asked respectfully but genuinely confused by Námo's words.

The Lord of the Dead only sighed and approached the young mortal filling him with apprehension.

"When you passed from the mortal realm, your soul was split part of it journeyed here yet another piece lingers in Middle-Earth ... Apparently it stayed inside something or someone," Námo said with some amusement.

"How?" Jon thought with surprise, how could that happen? Until his eyes suddenly widened.

"GHOST!" He shouted, suddenly remembering the words of his beloved Shiera about the "Skin Changers" and how they could live after death inside animals ... At the cost of losing his mind and adopting savagery.

"Oh, by the Valar ... how did this happen to me?" Jon thought

"Yes, it seems to me that it is just what you imagine Jon Snow, half of your missing soul resides in your Wolf," Said the Lord of the Dead, looking at Jon fiercely and the young Westerosi wish at that moment to be swallowed up by the earth.

"And what will happen to me then?" Jon asked, terrified of the Valar.

"That will depend on you, Jon," Manwë said with a cheerful expression.

At that moment, hope-filled Jon's soul causing him to smile despite his weakness.

"I'm afraid we cannot allow you to leave Arda, though you deserve to rest now alongside your forebears ... Alas, you shall not leave this world for many an age young wolf, "Manwë said compassionately.

"What happened to Lord Celeborn, who lost his life to my folly and madness?" Jon asked as Lord Manwë's expression became one of grief.

"That remains to be seen," Said the King of the Valar, shedding tears of sadness for the noble brother of Thingol cut down in the bloom of his youth.

Instantly Jon understood that what happened to Lord Celeborn was more than a mere wound, and he wept freely, knowing his folly had led to the death of the Noble Lord though a small part of him was joyful, for he knew that Celeborn ought to have killed him had he discovered his love for Galadriel.

... I'm a craven bastard ... Jon thought full of remorse.

"The weapon that slew Celeborn was made with dark spells very old and full of hate; it was akin to a cancerous rot devouring the body and soul ..." Jon said, shuddering at the memory of that spear while Manwë and Námo looked at the young man with satisfaction.

"The development of your foresight is superb, Jon Snow... You must continue developing it because it will be advantageous as you grow older," Námo advised.

"You are right ... The weapon that sent Artanis' husband to these rooms was forged by Sauron; at this moment, Aulë and Irmo are attending Celeborn," Manwë said sadly.

"Is he well? .. Will he be able to reincarnate soon?" Jon asked excitedly, thinking that the noble elf could come back to life, but his illusion did not last long when he saw that even Námo, for a few moments, seemed to have sadness on his face.

"No, Jon ... The evil of that weapon is absolute; it corrupted his Fëa in a way we had never seen before," Manwë said.

"What does my lord mean?" Jon asked, concerned.

"When the Fëa of Celeborn came here, he was changing into a spectre... A being similar to the Nazgûl, only by his strength of will was he able to halt the foul magics as we left him in the care of Aulë, although they have stopped the change, none have mended Celeborn's Fëa, "Manwë said sadly.

"Aulë is trying to discover the mean through which Sauron forged such a weapon... He is convinced that this spear has an innate evil and power of its own that was not given by Sauron... He states that another Vala gave his strength to that spear, "Námo said seriously.

"A Vala? But that's not possible," Jon started to say.

"Only the 'Great Enemy' would possess such foul sorceries, though he is long banished to the void... Somehow the one who was his lieutenant has managed to evoke his power," Manwë said with a fierce expression.

"But that matter is none of your concern, young mortal ... You have a great many tasks to accomplish," Namo said, scrutinizing Jon's every expression.

"What would you have me do?" Jon asked.

"You must decide .." Lord Námo said, returning to his throne.

"What do you speak of Lord Námo?" Jon asked with such happiness to knowing he shall be reunited with his loves soon.

"You must choose your fate just as your ancestor Lúthien once did, to abide with the race of men or to become as one of the Noldor... You were indeed born as a mortal man with scant traces of elven blood and Maia in your blood, but much like Eärendil, you have won great renown, and so the Father of All has decided to intervene directly on this occasion and has allowed us to give you the choice of lineage, "Lord Námo said in a dispassionate tone.

Jon was shocked by the words of the Vala of the dead and glanced at the Elder King, who only mischievously smiled at him, clearly amused by the expressions of his protégé.

"Did Erú Ilúvatar truly grant me the privilege of the houses just as Eärendil?" Jon asked, astonished that Ilúvatar had decided to intervene on his behalf this time.

It was surprising ... And terrifying ... Why would the One go to such trouble for him? On second thought, Jon wasn't wholly convinced that he desired that answer.

"Yes, if you choose to be counted among the Firstborn Ilúvatar has decreed that you will be granted the grace, beauty and other skills of that race and when you wish you can leave to the Blessed Kingdom to live in Valinor and dwell there until the End of Days with the daughters of Finwë and Finarfin, But you shall be forever parted from your mortal lovers as I could not grant them the gift of houses, "Manwë said sternly.

Jon blushed deeply upon hearing the "King of the Valar" as Lord Manwë apparently knew about the peculiar "relationship" he had with Lalwen and Lady Galadriel, furthermore Jon could feel Fingolfin's gaze piercing him from behind.

"Or ... you can return to Middle Earth as a mortal man, in that case, Ilúvatar decree that you can dwell there again but without any assurance of long life or joy. Then you, your relatives, friends and your mortal lovers will receive the grace of the "Long Life" of the High Men of Númenor being as long-lived as Elros himself. Even then, they will all be subjected to a second death, and after a while, all will abandon the world forever, and their achievements and deeds would be nothing more than a memory, "Lord Námo said relentlessly.

Jon was speechless; he would gaze upon the blessed realm and spend his days in peace and comfort with the Lady Galadriel and his dear Lawlen. Though he could never gaze upon his loves again, knowing they would be parted from him never to return until the end of Arda, where they would be united in the second song.

He could choose to abide with men much like his forebear Elros still a great span of years was allotted, many times that of the Men of Middle-earth, and he would enjoy many days of peace and plenty before he laid himself down after the manner of the ancient kings of Númenor, and died.

The path of men was the bitterest of fates, but it is a burden he would bear for the ones he loves.

With a fire in his eyes, Jon gazed upon the Elder King and bellowed his answer with surety.

"I choose ... The way of men, mortality," Jon said, sure of his decision.

Hearing it, Fingolfin, who was silent, closed his eyes and nodded and shed tears as he imagined the misery of his beloved sister when she must be parted from her love until the day Arda breaks.

Both Valar nodded.

"Very well, Jon snow, when you depart from these halls, you shall be blessed with the beauty and the wisdom of the Eldar and the strength and hardihood of the Men of old as will those whom you hold dear, "Manwë said with a solemn smile.

"Did you perceive this, my Lord, that I would choose the gift of men?" Jon asked in surprise as the "King of the Valar" smiled.

"You remind me so much of your ancestors Beren, Tuor and Elros honourable to a fault with a will to match let it never be said that the men of Westeros should be found lacking in courage," said the King of Arda, looking at Jon with pride.

"Why didn't you tell me about the heritage of House Stark, my Lord?" Jon asked, bewildered.

"For everything, there is a time and a place, in those years you were not ready to receive nor understand your inheritance... But now you are no longer a child... It is time for the child to die and the man to be born, "Manwë said with authority, gesturing to Fingolfin, who produced a shield of exceptional quality; it was blue as the boundless sea and set with crystals and upon its face was the heraldry of Finwë a winged sun of many rays.

"My shield ... The one that I carried with me when I faced the" Great Enemy I have kept it since you arrived in Middle Earth, and since then I have watched you, you become a worthy heir I can finally bequeath it to use, use it well, "Fingolfin said with a look of fierce pride in his eyes.

Jon just looked at the beautiful shield and was tempted to touch it but didn't have the strength to lift it.

"It's beautiful, thank you... It's much more than I deserve," Jon said, looking at his ancestor with cloudy eyes.

"One more thing, Jon.. Ilúvatar shall bequeath one last gift," Manwë said, somewhat confused.

That aroused Jon's curiosity and surprise as well as Fingolfin's, although he was silent.

"A gift from Ilúvatar?" Jon asked in surprise.

"That's right, like the shield of Fingolfin, the gift of Erú will appear with you when you wake up ... But we do not know its nature as Erú did not see fit to tell us," Manwë said, sincerely intrigued by the decision of his creator.

"I understand .." Jon said, confused.

"Then, young man... It is almost time for you to depart this realm, but first ... there are a great many people you must meet," Lord Námo said sternly.

"Whom?" Jon asked, intrigued.

"You will know shortly," Said Lord Námo rising again from the throne and raised his arm, and instantly everything was as night.

"Farwell Jon... we shall not meet again for many many years when you awaken in your body, your shield shall beside you," Lord Manwë said solemnly.

"Farwell Jon... go with my blessing and the blessing of all Elves," Fingolfin said with a slight bow.

At that moment, Lord Námo approached Jon and stared at him, causing the young Targaryen to tremble.

"Your life as Jon Snow has ended ... And your life as Aemond Targaryen has just begun," The Vala said to a stunned Jon.

"Aemond Targaryen?… Is that my true name?… An astonished Jon wondered.

And at that moment, everything was filled with light.

When the light dissipated, Jon opened his eyes, and he no longer saw the throne of Namo nor Lord Fingolfin; he was in a different place altogether. It was a cavernous hall held up by lofty pillars of alabaster stone, each engraved with intricate scrollwork; the floor was of silver and set with many gems.

"Am I still in the Rooms of Command? ... Jon thought, surprised until he realized that he was not alone in that place.

In front of him were seven people sitting upon stone benches, but each was weeping.

One of them, the most striking, had deep purple eyes. He also had long, elegant fingers and was very tall. He was clad night-black plate armour, with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen decorated in rubies on its breastplate, and underneath the plate, he wore golden ringmail. Beside him lay a helm with gold, orange, and red silken streamers resembling flames.

This man was clearly a Targaryen.

The second person was a beautiful young woman of at least sixteen namedays; she was slim of frame with brown hair, long face and grey eyes, in fact, she reminded a great deal of Margaery and Arya, she was crowned with a wreath of winter rose and wailed and sobbed.

That young woman had to be part of House Stark, he was sure of that, and besides, Jon, for his part, had never seen a woman with such a miserable countenance.

The others were clearly Knights of the Kingsguard; each wore white cloaks and intricate suits of white enamelled scales, their fastenings for breastplate and other pieces made of silver though these knights looked as if they had seen death.

Jon knew in his heart who those people were, and with an expression of horror, he wanted to move away, but something prevented him from doing so, and it was at that moment they noticed they were not alone.

Jon gazed upon Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, his true parents who's folly had caused the deaths of many a noble soul .

For a few moments, no one uttered a word until Lyanna and Rhaegar's eyes widened as they realized who stood before him; they may never have seen their son in person, but thanks to the sources of Mystical water of the Valar, they had seen him grow, they knew him, from his days in Winterfell and the journey to Middle-Earth.

Without much thought, Lyanna got up quickly and running towards her son; she was able to hold him again to see her beloved child, whom she had left all those years ago.

"My child ... My beautiful child," Lyanna sobbed quietly.

For a few moments, Jon did not know what to do... He had dreamed for so many years to be in his mother's arms that now that it finally happened... Jon was dumbstruck all those years he had imagined his mother as a kindly maiden.

But upon discovering her childish treachery, that fantasy of his beloved mother had been destroyed still could he truly hate her for her folly.

She was his mother, his true mother. Could he not enjoy her loving embrace?

Jon reciprocated his mother's embrace and forcefully allowed himself to be loved by her for the first time breathing deep the scent of winter roses after many long years.

He did not know how long he was holding her until Jon felt a hand touch his shoulder and when he parted from his mother, Jon could see his father, Rhaegar Targaryen, crying as he looked at him with a mixture of feelings, happiness, pride, sadness ... And guilt.

For a moment, Jon considered merely embracing his parents ... But duty prevented him from doing so.

He came here sent by Lord Námo for a reason, and that reason was not just to be hugged by his parents ... As tempting as it was.

"Mother ... Father ... I finally meet you..." Jon said, painfully separating himself from his mother.

"Aemond ... My son ..." Rhaegar said.

"Jon... My name is Jon .." He snapped.

For a few moments, Rhaegar Targaryen looked like he would respond, but it seems that he decided not to and nodded.

"Very good ... Jon," Said the former heir to the Iron Throne, resigned.

"This is not the time to assume that name ... When I leave this place, Until then I am Jon Snow, the bastard son of Eddard Stark," Jon said proudly, defending the memory of the man who for better or for worse named him, raised him, protected him and taught him the value of honour.

Aemond Targaryen was a Prince, an offshoot of House Targaryen ... But Jon didn't feel like one ... Not yet.

... It is time for the child in you to stay in these rooms and for the man to come out ... Those were the words of Lord Manwë.

"But the time is not yet ... I have barely discovered my own name ... I still haven't held it as mine ... Jon acknowledged.

"It's the name we gave you .." His mother said, looking at him wistfully.

"I know ... But all my life, I have been" Jon "... I still haven't accepted that I bear another name," Jon said with sorrow when he saw the gloomy faces of his parents.

"Very good ... Jon," Said his mother Lyanna with a smile, kissing him on the forehead.

"I've spent so many years imagining what I would say to you when I found you in these aged halls ... And now that I finally see you ... I can't think of anything", said Jon laughing at the absurdity of his situation.

"We know you've had a horrid life ... We have watched you from afar," Lyanna said, trying to caress Jon's cheek, but this time he pulled away.

"Truly? ... Do you know what it was like for me to grow up as a bastard? unwanted? ... to be a stain upon the honour of my Uncle," Jon said, getting angry.

"Jon ... We didn't want that for you ... we wanted to give you what you deserve ..." Rhaegar hoping to appease his son, though it did little to quell Jon's anger so many had suffered for their folly, and now they try and waylay blame.

"What of Rhaenys ... AND Aegon? What of them? Did you think of them when you went galavanting across Dorne? What about their mother, Princess Elia ... Your wife, the one who was raped and killed by Lord Tywin's mad dog? ... were they part of some grand scheme? ... Or did you forget them in your flight of fancy? " Jon bellowed in a fury.

"Death of Elia has tormented me for many years; not a moment passes when I do not think of her, but please my son ... do not condemn me for it, not you. .. I have paid dearly for my folly, and now we shall remain here until the Doomsman deems we have given penance ", Said Rhaegar kneeling before his son.

Seeing his father, the last dragon, meekly kneel before him out of guilt, Jon could perceive that he was remorseful, and that began to soften his heart. Although he had not forgotten that his brother, his grandmother Rhaella and his Uncle Viserys, his beloved Dany suffered unimagined hardships for the folly of this man.

"Rhaegar ..." Lyanna said, comforting her love, being like him tormented by guilt.

"Stand ... Father, I don't wish to see you kneeling like a beggar... So tell me why ... Why? ... Why did you betray your families? ... Did you not foresee the folly of your actions ... Mother, you were sworn to Robert Baratheon a Great Lord of the kingdom, I know very well the character of Robert Baratheon, yet you could not see beyond your own desire ... "Jon said now gazing upon his mother who merely bowed her head.

"You're right ... We should have thought better about what we were doing But I didn't care, I wanted to be free ... I thought I wanted to be free from Robert. Still, after being confined here for many years, I realized that I was not running away from him ... I was fleeing from duty, I wished to find love... I was so narrow-minded; I merely saw a man ruled by his vices, and I couldn't bear the thought of being some pretty bauble in his collection And not long after our engagement, I eloped with a crown prince who was already married ... In the end, I was not better than Robert he dare not lay with a married woman" Lyanna said weeping.

"Lyanna ..." Rhaegar began to try to comfort her, but she rejected him.

"No, my love... We shall take the honourable road this time... We will take responsibility for our deplorable actions. Make him realize that we are not greedy fools and that after spending what seems like hundreds of lives in this fortress, we have grown wiser, "Lyanna said, caressing the face of her love.

"Very good .." Said the Silver Prince, eager to leave this cursed place.

At that moment, Jon desired to ask his mother something he yearned to know since he learned the truth of his birth.

"Mother ... I know what I'm going to ask you is rather strange ... But I must know ... If you had married Robert, do you think you would have been happy with him?" Jon asked in dismay.

His mother closed her eyes and, for a few moments, did not answer. Jon was worried he had angered her.

"If you had asked me that question years ago, I would have merely laughed," Lyanna said softly.

"And now?" Jon asked.

"I don't know ... Maybe if I had been happy with Robert ... Your uncle was fostered at the Eyrie by Lord Jon Arryn since the age of eight, where he befriended Robert Baratheon. Ned brought Robert's suit to Winterfell, and your grandfather Rickard agreed to the betrothal. However, that night I confided to Ned that Robert would never be able to keep to one bed. I had heard of his daughter Mya stone, which Ned could not deny. Though he attempted to persuade me that what Robert had done before our betrothal was insignificant and that he would love me, I informed him that love could not change a man's nature ... And now I understand that I was completely wrong, "Lyanna said, taking Rhaegar by the hands.

"Mother ..." Jon said, surprised.

"As I already told you, Robert was ruled by his vices; perhaps I was right, and he would never have been faithful to me without mentioning that most of our marriage would have been drinking, eating and hunting, But never I know for sure, after all, love changed the nature of your father Rhaegar and your Uncle Ned who went against their principles because of the love they both had for me. Perhaps if I had married Robert, I would have changed him for the better ... Or perhaps I would have been nothing but a pretty bauble, I don't know, and I'll never know ... The only thing I know is that in the end, I was not different from Robert, or mayhaps I was worse than him, for I knew my love was wrong... That's all I can tell you, son; I'm sorry if it's not the answer you expected, "Lyanna said with a sad smile.

But Jon just smiled; true was not the answer he expected, although to be honest, he did not expect a response.

"It's better this way", Jon said, hugging his mother again, and she happily hugged him back.

"You are an extraordinary man, Jon.. we have seen everything your exploits.. your conquests," Rhaegar said, arching an eyebrow as Jon blushed, much to his mother's amusement.

"I ... I ..." Jon said, attempting to speak, but his mother merely smiled.

"You must care for them Jon... I want a great many grandchildren?" Lyanna said, enjoying her son's embarrassment.

"MOTHER!" Jon shouted, embarrassed to everyone's amusement.

"I am so proud of you, Jon, you have become a much more remarkable person than I could have ever imagined; you have attained greatness on your own merit ... You have slain that foul wyrm you have brought prestige and fame to our House even if you do not wish to bear our surname, "Rhaegar said proudly.

"I cannot bear the name Targaryen... I'm a bastard; whether snow or sand, it matters not," Jon said, confused but to his wonderment, his parents' gaze hardened.

"No, Jon ... You are not and have never been a bastard," Lyanna said sadly while Jon looked confused.

"I have never been a bastard? ... But does that mean? ... Jon thought with tears in his eyes.

"Jon, your mother and I were wed," Rhaegar said.

"But you were already married to Princess Elia," Jon said, bewildered, and to his surprise, his parents turned scarlet.

"Yes.. well, we Targaryens have a very peculiar history with wives ... Aegon the Conqueror married Rhaenys and Visenya," Rhaegar said, hoping his son would understand.

"Until the Faith forbade polygamy after the reign of Maegor" The Cruel "and no longer allowed such debauchery..." Jon started to say, stopping suddenly and blushing just like his parents.

"Ah.. you understand," Rhaegar said, chuckling at Jon's bewilderment.

"Aahh ..." Jon said sadly.

"Jon, do you think we have been blind to your conquest chief among them your half-sister and aunt?" Lyanna said, losing patience with her son and hitting him on the shoulder.

"By the Valar, you're are just like Arya," Jon said, amused.

"The Septon we bribed happened to bring several fone bottles of Arbor gold, and so we celebrated fairly well ... It wasn't the wedding we had hoped for, and so I hoped that it would suffice as a dowry ..." Rhaegar said in amusement.

"I understand, but I beg you let us speak no more of this .." Jon said sadly as his mother snorted.

"That's why your loves enjoy teasing you, my son .." Lyanna said with a crooked smile, and Jon felt more and more embarrassed.

"I had always dreamed of conversing with them like this; it is truly a shame death has parted us," Jon thought sadly.

"Is my uncle here?" Jon asked, joyful at the thought of seeing his Uncle Ned again, but at that moment, his mother's eyes filled with tears again.

"No, my son ... Your uncle Ned, unlike us, did not have so much to atone for and soon left the Rooms of Command to find his eternal rest," Rhaegar said.

"And you?" Jon asked, and Rhaegar sighed.

"When a soul of the secondborn enters here, we are judged by Namo and are granted punishment or reward for our deeds in life", Rhaegar said.

"And you?" Jon asked.

"Due to our actions, we were sent here by the will of Ilúvatar to reflect upon our folly and grow wiser in body and mind," Lyanna said with a sad smile.

"You know of Ilúvatar?" Jon asked, surprised.

"There is little else to do here except reflect, repent and study," Rhaegar replied with a smile.

"And how long must you remain in these halls?" Jon asked, dismayed, but at that moment, his parents grimaced.

"Too long, far too long," Lyanna said.

"We shall be free of our burden when Men claim Dominion of the Earth" those were the words Lord Námo", Rhaegar said to a stunned Jon.

"They shall remain in these halls until the last ship leaves the Grey Havens and the forges of the Dwarves run cold... Jon thought, horrified, feeling compassion for His parents.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry .." Jon said, shedding tears, but his mother stroked his cheek and wiped them away.

"No, son, do not weep for us, it was our selfishness, hypocrisy and madness that led us here, and now we will pay for the suffering of all those taken before their time in that cursed rebellion," Lyanna said with melancholy.

"Regrettably, alas, we have led others do their doom ..." Rhaegar said, looking to the five Kingsguard who shared their punishment, and one of them got up and approached until he was in front of Jon.

He was dark-haired, tall, and extremely beautiful with haunting violet eyes that reminded Jon of his dear Ashara.

This man was Ser Arthur Dayne "The Sword of the Morning" ... And he was the brother of his beloved Ashara.

"Greetings, Prince Aemond ... I have not gazed upon you since you were a baby... It fills my heart with joy to be able to see you again even in these hallowed halls," Said the Royal Guard bowing.

Jon had bittersweet feelings for the man since, on the one hand, the name "Arthur Dayne" was spoken of with reverence and awe among the smallfolk of Westeros, a true knight without peer ... alas he was cut down when he refused to stand aside, though Jon bore him no ill will he was merely defending him from Robert, beside him stood Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Jonothor Darry, Ser Oswell Whent and Prince Lewyn Martell though they didn't speak and merely eyed him with curiosity.

"It's a pleasure to meet a legend like you, Ser Arthur", Jon said graciously, but the knight shook his head.

"No, the honour is mine, my dear prince, for I have seen your skill with a blade and daresay you have become far better than I, although tis a pity we cannot cross blades," Arthur said remorsefully.

"I'm sorry that you must reside here until the age of men," Jon said pityingly, but Ser Arthur shook his head.

"No... Do weep for us, my prince; I am only saddened that you could not be reunited with your uncle Eddard or perhaps Brandon; he would have been proud of the man you have become," Sir Arthur said with remorse.

"He knows not that my uncle was a wolf in sheep's clothing ... Jon thought nervously.

"We let the sense of duty hinder our love and compassion and countless innocence suffered for our folly ... like your grandmother the Queen Rhaella," Ser Arthur said, clenching his fists.

Jon just growled as he knew very well the horrors inflicted upon Rhaella by his grandfather.

"Tis a horrid truth, my Prince ... We do not deserve admiration nor praise from anyone; we do not even deserve to wear the white cloak nor to be called knights ..." Ser Arthur said, his broken stoop and withered like an aged tree it seemed the years of guilt had weighed heavily upon him.

"My uncle Ned always thought of you as a Knight worthy of reverence and commanded no less for those who spoke of you," Jon said, and Ser Arthur smiled in appreciation.

"It is laudable that Eddard held me in such high esteem, and I would like to thank him for his gesture, but my Prince, I am afraid I deserve neither pity nor mercy," Ser Arthur said, with sadness.

"Arthur ..." said Rhaegar, trying to comfort his friend, but he denied him.

"All is well, old friend, we've been here long enough to know we are undeserving of the title of Knights; we failed in our duties to protect the weak and allowed a tyrant to murder countless innocence," Ser Arthur growled with remorse.

"I'm sorry," Jon said, and the former Kingsguard groaned.

"My Prince ... though it is not my place, I ask you fulfil two oaths ..." Ser Arthur asked.

"Name it, my lord", Jon said, intrigued.

"Chiefly, take care of my sister Ashara and see that her life is filled with joy", Ser Arthur said with a smile when he saw Jon turn so scarlet he resembled the rubies on his fathers' breastplate.

"Ser Arthur I…" Jon stammered nervously as his parents laughed at him.

"Do not speak of that subject Prince Aemond, please ..." Said the knight as he would rather not hear of his beloved sisters love life as it was rather Unusual; he knew that the Prince and Lady Shiera would love for his sister Ashara and give her days of peace and comfort.

"Very good, Ser Arthur," Said Jon, embarrassed by the laughter of his parents.

"Thank you, Prince Aemon ... and should you ever return to Westeros, I beg of you rule our lands justly and change the ideals of our people, chiefly chivalry, many a man who was named a Knight was no more a beast with titles and keep reaving, raping and sneering at those they deem lesser than themselves. That must change ... many have suffered the cruelties of these false knights. And so I beseech thee my Prince defend the domains entrusted to you. To protect the weak and fight for the right. Always to fight the enemies of virtue and order. Never to break faith with a friend or ally; these are the true ideals of Knighthood and ones that the coming generations must learn." Please, my Prince, "Said Ser Arthur kneeling before Jon.

Jon was surprised by the request of Ser Arthur; it had been many years since he had seen Westeros, and he had no desire to return; he had fallen in love with the beauty of Middle Earth and the majesty of its kingdoms, But his heart told him that his happiness would not be eternal, and he must one day return to the land of his birth.

Groaning, Jon agreed, and the legendary knight kissed his hand and returned to his companions, who were looking at Jon with gratitude and respect.

Rhaegar and Lyanna hugged Jon, and this time he embraced them as a son should embrace his parents.

It was then that Jon began to fade, and Lyanna and Rhaegar wept bitter tears, discerning that they shall be parted from their darling boy.

"It seems that this is goodbye ..." Jon said with tears in his eyes.

"We shall not always be parted, my son," Rhaegar said with a smile.

"Farewell, son, remember we shall always love you…." Lyanna said with tears in her eyes.

"Thank you, Mother, and you as well, Father," Jon said, smiling slightly.

"Jon... Please tell Rhaenys that I beg her to one day find the strength to forgive me for everything I did to her, her brother Aegon and her mother; eternity is not enough time to regret my choices... And that I love her and their brother, and I just hope they are happy even if they do not recover the "Iron Throne" ... Tell her to please ", Rhaegar begged.

"I'll do it, father…." Jon said with a nod.

It was then that Jon could no longer see his parents and or the Kingsguard ... He could only see a very intense pure light until suddenly he could feel pain again, a great discomfort.

The march to Annúminas was far shorter than the march to Isengard. Nobody spoke much during the whole trip, and none had the desire to it was a grim mood, and it seemed as if all colour had drained from the world.

All had still lost being well-loved and did not know how to deal with it without being consumed by pain ... Not to mention that when they arrived in Minas Anor and much later in Annuminas, they had to give the terrible account.

Both King Elendil and his son Anárion were shocked when they discovered Jon's death.

They bore Jon upon a golden bier, and passed southwards in silence. Then they laid the bier upon a great wain with Riders of Arnor all about it and his banner borne before, and Loras being Jon's dearest friend, rode upon the wain and kept the arms of the great warrior.

The Lady of Belfalas had used her magic to preserve the body of Jon, and now it appeared he was merely asleep, something that everyone hopelessly desired.

After that, Lady Galadriel behaved rather coldly, although she chose to escort them back to Arnor, she did not converse with anyone except her aunt Írimë and Lord Glorfindel, who were no better than her.

The daughter of Finarfin had lost the two men who had captivated her in the same night; she felt overwhelmed by the grief of losing her husband and the guilt of not saving Jon ... The only comfort that She had left was the book of poems and songs that Jon composed for her, which filled her with joy and love; however, her heart was wracked with guilt as she felt she was betraying Celeborn, who gave his life to slay the Nazgûl.

But that book was the only thing that could give her peace in those moments, so much so that the Lady of Light clutched the book to her chest every night, feeling it was the one thing that bound Jon to her alone.

Galadriel felt a sinful and selfish whore, but she did not want to share Jon's gift with anyone, not even her aunt Írimë who's misery was terrible to behold.

Finwë's daughter had been parted from her two great loves, and she felt hollow as if all the ages of this world had crashed down upon her, and she was utterly alone she knew that one day she would be parted from Jon but dared not think it would be so quickly.

Oh, Írimë spent all day playing with Jon's curls and sometimes kissed him in the vain hope that he should wake from his eternal sleep.

Glorfindel and Galadriel felt sadder with each passing day and could feel her slowly fading away, taking on an sickly appearance as they neared Annúminas.

"Perhaps I can sail to Valinor once there we will be together again until he must leave Arda, he will implore Erú to allow me to leave with him ... I hold no love for this wretched world if my beloved dragon must depart from it." Írimë thought in despair.

As for Arianne, Rhaenys, Daenerys, Shiera, and Ashara, each wept bitter tears, and none could mend their wounded hearts; it was an especially bitter poison to swallow.

Well, the man they had all fallen in love with had now left Mandos untimely, and although they wanted very much to meet him ... they knew perfectly well that Jon would never forgive them for committing such madness.

It was especially hard for Ashara and Shiera, who had never foreseen falling in love with the young Targaryen, and yet fate was cruel to them again, let them enjoy the delights of love and romance, only to snatch it away selfishly.

For Ashara, it seemed fate would damn the thrice more as she must deliver the news of Jon's demise to Sansa and Arya.

As for Glorfindel, as soon as the former nobleman of Gondolin discovered the fate of his pupil, he burst into tears and said parting words in both Quenya and Sindarin and cursed Sauron just as Fëanor had Morgoth for the slaying of Finwë.

They had first reached Minas Anor, where they realized that the City had been besieged although it was a hasty offensive, it was in Osgiliath where the greatest misfortune befall Gondor as the Lord of Dol Amroth had fallen in battle and left no heirs.

Dol Amroth was a promontory, ruled as a hereditary principality from its stronghold, situated on a peninsula in Gondor facing the Bay of Belfalas. A noble Númenórean family of "The Faithful" settled by order of King Elendil in Belfalas and built a fortress on the promontory. When the "Kingdoms in Exile" were formed, Elendil gave their ruler the title of "Prince of the Kingdom", and his kingdom became known as Dor-en-Ernil.

And now that fortress had lost its Lord.

When Anárion learned of Jon's death, the outburst of anger and pain from the Lord of Mines Anor had been terrible to behold; he raged and cursed Sauron, promising to slay the Lord of Mordor for his crimes against his people.

Once he had calmed his mind, Anárion used his Palantirí to inform his Father of the tragic news so that they would prepare in Annúminas for the burial of Jon and Lord Celeborn as well as to send messengers to The Grey Havens, The Valley of Imladris and the Kingdom of Khazad-Dûm "as King Durin was a dear friend of Jon.

Jon had forged many friendships among the Lords of Middle-Earth, and all would wish to say farewell.

As for Lord Celeborn, he had been one of the Sages of Middle Earth, a mighty and wise elf who was loved by his people, he had given his life in that horrible battle ... He deserved a proper burial worthy of his status.

The army spent several days in Minas Anor mending their wounds and gathering provisions before continuing their march to Annúminas.

However, in all that time, Shiera, who had been watching Jon's bier from afar, did not fail to notice something that caught her attention.

Ghost, Jon's direwolf, had refused to leave his master's body; it was then Shiera recalled an ancient tale about the Skinchangers."

Skinchangers could possess the body of an animal upon their death and live as said animal, it was then Shiera began to formulate a plan that was rather queer, but if Jon's spirit had entered the body of his wolf, then perhaps they could use the magic of the elves to restore his soul.

I hadn't deemed it possible; a hopeful Shiera cried with excitement and joy.

However, healing a corpse was beyond her and Ashara's skills, and even if it was plausible, she had no idea if Jon had actually transferred his mind to his wolf and if so, there was no way of knowing how much Jon left after spending so much time inside the animal.

But she required aid; she had no hope of doing this alone; first, they must reach Annúminas and then Shiera would reveal what she had learned.

After 5 weeks, the whole company had managed to return to Annuminas, where they were received by a splendid retinue... However, there was no celebration nor feast, for the realm of Arnor had lost many noble sons.

One by one, the bodies were placed in the City Square and wrapped in shrouds of silver cloth, each bearing the Scepter of Annúminas.

Jon's sarcophagus was placed in the centre of the city; all who gazed upon the Wolf of Westernesse saw that he was at peace though this did little to dissuade them from their grief, and all wept bitterly for the death of so noble a man.

King Elendil greeted them with tearful eyes and praised Jon's bravery though all could see his grief; Queen Rhaella cries were more akin to a wounded animal as she lamented the death of her grandson while Sansa fell to her knees and howled in misery.

Seeing her protégé mastered by grief, an equally heartbroken Ashara ran to hug her hoping to console Sansa in her misery.

Arya was calmer than her sister, but she wept freely as well and rushed towards Jon's coffin though the Gryphon barred her path, bearing it great claws intending to rip her ribbons, Ghost sprang to her aid snarling at the Gryphon, and all was quiet, but at the last moment, the Gryphon bowed its head and laid next to the sarcophagus and Ghost's led Arya by the hand to the tomb of Jon.

When the little wolf saw the corpse of her beloved cousin, at first, she thought he was asleep as his hand was still warm.

"Jon's spirit has departed for the Halls of Mandos; I merely used a spell to preserve his body beyond the count of days... He is now in the dream of death" I am sorry, my child ", Galadriel said. Alas, Arya merely wept bitterly for the loss of her beloved cousin.

Seeing the youngest Starks grief, Rhaella took pity on her and hugged her so that they might share in their sorrow; the younger Stark accepted the comfort of Jon's grandmother, weeping as they hugged each other.

"You must share all you know with me ..." King Elendil said, approaching the fellowship.

"We will, father ... However, I wish to know if the other Lords have arrived yet?" Anárion asked.

"Gil-Galad and Elrond will arrive in one more week as for Durin and Círdan will arrive in two days", replied the king of the Dunedain, confused.

"In that case, I beg you, father, to wait for them to arrive because the story of the fall of Jon and Lord Celeborn is as great as it is unpleasant, and I don't think I have the heart to listen to it many more times. They have suffered greatly with each retelling, "Anárion said in a pleading tone, and Elendil, seeing the melancholy of Jon's loves, agreed.

"Very well, I will wait Anárion ... Lady Galadriel," Said the High King bowing to the Lady of Belfalas, who only nodded indifferently.

"King Elendil," Said the Lady of Light with cold cordiality.

"I am so sorry for your loss, my Lady ... Lord Celeborn was an exceptional elf," Elendil said with genuine sorrow.

Galadriel thanked him for his gesture while holding back her tears and being consoled by her aunt, who looked increasingly weak and sickly.

"Aunt ..." Galadriel said, worrying more and more about her father's sister.

"Sshh ... My dear niece, everything will be fine," Írimë said, kissing Galadriel on the forehead and hoping to ease the pain of her niece's heart.

Despite the tragic scene unfolding, one person in the entourage had an anxious expression on her face, almost of hope.

The Sea Maiden had seen Jon's wolf jump to protect his cousin Arya and the beautiful bastard Targaryen was joyful.

Not the fact that the girl was in danger but that when she saw the wolf defend the girl, she was more and more sure that Jon was still alive inside the wolf.

Now she only had to pray to Erú that Jon's will was strong enough to endure until Elrond's arrival; Shiera had no doubt that the Lord of Rivendell could ... Heal Jon's body despite his passing, this was an art that neither she nor Ashara mastered ... yet.

Shiera gazed upon Jon with hope without realizing that the Lady of Light had sensed something in her heart since they were travelling on the road, and since then, she has been watching her closely, sensing something horrible.

Later that night, both Ashara and Shiera were taking care of Sansa and Arya, who were devastated by the death of their beloved cousin, but Arya being a reckless child, expressed her pain the only way she knew how.

Fighting with his sister over any trifling matter.

"Shut up, Arya!" Sansa said with tears in her eyes.

"Why? It's the truth ... You didn't want Jon; you stopped sending him letters when mother asked you to," Said Arya, hoping to fight with her sister.

An angry Sansa lunged furiously at her sister, and soon they were rolling on the ground like rabid wolves.

"Shut up! ... You know nothing of the matter!" Sansa said, starting to scratch her sister's face.

At that moment, Ashara and Shiera entered the room, and when they saw girls in such a state, they moved to separate them.

"By the Valar! What's going on here?" Ashara yelled in a fury.

"Arya began taunting me ... She said awful things about I didn't care about Jon and that she was his favourite sister!" Sansa said, crying.

"Arya, is it true?" Ashara asked, disappointed with the little wolf.

"Yes, they were not lies; Sansa never cared for Jon in their first meeting at King's Landing; she treated him as a common beggar and feared his blood would taint her," Arya said, in a rage.

Sansa burst into tears and threw herself against Ashara's chest, and cried so that Lady Ashara sent an angry look at the little wolf.

"Go to your room Arya .. I'll talk to you later," Ashara said sternly.

"But ..." Arya began to say indignantly but understanding that she had gone too far.

"Come on, girl ... You already caused too much trouble," Shiera said, taking the little wolf by the arm and escorting her out.

When Arya left, she began to cry and told Shiera that they had begun to remember their time in Winterfell and how Sansa abandoned Jon on the whims of their mother.

"I ... I didn't want to ... I just ... I don't know why I was arguing with her ..." Arya said, sobbing.

... I know why ... Shiera thought, hugging the little girl.

"I understand you, little wolf ... may grieve in various ways, and through cruel fate, we lash out at those we hold dear ... But you can't fight with your sister, your only sister ... Now they only have each other," Shiera said before placing a kiss upon Arya's head.

"Jon is a deceiver... He lied to us, he said he would come back ... And the fool died," Arya said, breaking into tears.

"It wasn't his fault Arya ... war makes corpses of many brave men," Shiera said with bitterness, still hugging the girl.

"Did you love him?" Arya asked, looking into her eyes.

"Yes, I loved Jon greatly. I could never bear to be parted from him, and now that he has passed on, my heart aches," Shiera said, beginning to weep too.

"Curse you Sauron, you destroyed the home of my ancestors preventing me from knowing it and enjoying its splendour and beauty ... Now because of your machinations I lost the love of my life ... I will never forgive you ... I name you chiefest of my enemies, and you shall pay for your treachery I swear this by all the Valar... Shiera thought with hatred, vowing vengeance against the fallen Maia.

"Why did Jon have to die?" Arya said, crying without being aware of Shiera's dark thoughts.

Shiera didn't answer and hugged her tighter, putting aside her idea of revenge on Sauron for the moment.

Finally, after a week of mourning, The remaining Lords of Middle-earth arrived. Annúminas was filled with a great many caravans bearing many different sigils, whether silver stars of Gil-Galad, the hammer and anvil of Durin's folk, and the Ship and the Silver Swan of Dol-Amroth.

Kings Gil-Galad and Durin, as well as Lord Elrond and his wife Celebrían and finally Lord Círdan, who was delighted to see his former protégés again despite the grim tidings of their reunion.

After all, the old elf had come to love Jon like a son, a son he had lost and would never see again until the ending of Arda.

Upon seeing his chief guests, all the nobility of Arnor prepared to receive them and in the first row were King Elendil clad in silver plate and mail, upon his brow was a circlet of silver, and in his left hand the sceptre of Annúminas. To his right was Anárion, as he desired to see his family again; Isildur elected to stay in Gondor to begin rebuilding Osgiliath.

While to the left of the Great King were the "Emissaries of the Valar" as well as Lady Írimë, Galadriel and Lord Glorfindel.

Upon meeting, Elendil and Gil-galad embraced as friends. While Elrond and Celebrían perceived Írimë's sickly appearance recognizing that she was dyeing much to their horror.

"Welcome, my lords," Elendil said.

"It has been too long, my friend", replied Gil-Galad.

"Yes... And regrettably, we must reunite through such grim news," Elendil said sadly.

"I'm not afraid not," King Gil-Galad said, looking at the Westerosi, noticing Jon's absence among them, which affirmed the rumours.

"Well, that's enough! Will they keep the rest of us here all day? " Growled King Durin approaching the other monarchs.

Hearing the proud Lord of Khazad-Dûm, the Westerosi merely gawked as this was the first time many of them had laid eyes upon the Moutain fathers.

In the case of the Stark sisters, they were surprised by the appearance of the Dwarves since despite Jon's descriptions and their studies, they thought these peoples would be of similar bearing to Tyrion Lannister, only to realize that it was not the case.

However, when Jon was not there, his curiosity about all the mysteries that still remained to be discovered in Middle Earth had gone away for both sisters; everything had become cloudy and grey.

Despite this, they smiled slightly when they saw the comradery that existed between the three kings.

"Of course not Dúrin," Elendil said.

"Alas, the roads are treacherous, and the storms have been rather queer as if some foul magics have turned nature against us," Durin said grumpily.

"On that, we agree ... That storm was horrible," Gil-Galad said with a sigh.

"Ha, is the pointy-eared elf king scared by some water?" Durin said, chuckling as his companions giggled in hopes of irritating the elves.

As the kings discussed what Jon's death meant and the evils of Sauron, Galadriel and Celebrían embraced each other.

Mother and daughter wept bitterly for Celeborn.

"Mamil," Celebrían said through tears.

"Yelde", Galadriel replied.

"When I received the news from Imladris, I desired to come to see you ... I'm so sorry," said Celebrían crying wildly.

"I know my girl, I know ... What happened to your father was horrible misfortune caused by the sorcery of Sauron," Galadriel said with pain as she remembered Celeborn's repulsive appearance.

"Elrond said nothing of Ada's death, only that he had fallen at the hands of one of the Nazgûl when he came to the aid of Jon Snow," Celebrían said.

"Thank you, Elrond ... Galadriel thought gratefully, looking at Elrond, who nodded as he dare not tell his wife what Khamûl's spear had done to Celeborn.

"We shall avenge him, my daughter, I swear it," Galadriel said, kissing her daughter on the head.

At that time Elendil, Gil-Galad. Elrond, Círdan, and Durin approached Westerosi and Anárion.

"Very well, I informed Gil-Galad and Durin, now my son, I want to do your part, all the Lord of Middle-earth are here... Tell us what happened during the battle, even the death of Jon, "Elendil commanded. Anárion, Loras and Robar glanced at each other and then at Jon's lovers, and all wept as they must remember the day they lost Jon.

"As you command, father .." Anárion said, and so he recounted the tale of the battle.

Loras told them what he knew from Jon's counsel with Aulë and the reforging of Ringil and the warning of the evils of Sauron, who had forged a weapon of terrible power to slay Jon.

Upon hearing that his friend Jon had had the privilege of speaking with Aulë, King Durin and his Dwarves roared in excitement, and their eyes filled with tears.

"Did he truly speak to Mahal?" King Durin asked, regretting Jon's death more than ever.

"Aye, King Durin, I witnessed the power of Ringil with my own eyes," Said Loras, as he told of Jon's battle against the Nazgûl and how the magic of Ringil broke the magics of the ring and released Khamûl from his thralldom.

The three kings and Elrond listened in fascination to the story about Ringil's great power; all three were convinced of one thing.

Sauron wroth would be terrible, and his retribution swift.

"Continue Loras" Elendil demanded.

"Yes, my king", Loras replied, also telling them about the armament that Khamûl carried, a spear and on its blade was traced the Black Speech of Mordor, signifying that the weapon was far more terrible than the Nazgûl who wielded it.

Loras then told them how Jon had tasked them with recovering the spear so that it may be destroyed; alas, even with the aid of the elves of Belfalas, their efforts were for nought, and the spear had vanished.

"That's all, my king," Loras said sadly.

"For Sauron to forged such a weapon is disconcerting," Elrond said with one hand on his chin.

"I cannot imagine the vile sorceries used in the forging of such a weapon," King Durin said with concern.

"Tis more troubling that such a weapon has disappeared", King Gil-Galad replied.

"I agree ... it seems the Men of the East reclaimed the spear and spirited it away to their lands," Elendil said.

"We are of like mind, my king; we searched the entirety of the field, but it was useless," said Robar.

At that moment, Shiera, who had remained silent, decided to finally reveal her plan.

"King Elendil, King Gil-Galad, King Durin. Lord Círdan and Lord Elrond," Shiera said, bowing.

"Well, met Shiera.. it has been many years since we have spoken," Círdan said with a sad smile.

"Greetings Lord Círdan, and indeed years have passed ... It is a pity that our reunion is so bitter," Said the Maiden of the Sea, beginning to weep.

Seeing her love in that state, Ashara embraced Shiera hoping to ease her pain; once Shiera calmed down, she hoped to share her knowledge of the Skinchnagers.

"Hearken to me Great Lord of Middle-earth and my fellow Westerosi ... Since we departed from Isengard I have poured over many tomes of ancient lore, and Jon may yet live ... we may be able to summon him from the Rooms of Command, "Said the beautiful Targaryen bastard before everyone's shocked and surprised gaze.

... Wait a little longer, Jon, my love ... If what I think is true ... Soon you will be in our arms very soon ... Shiera thought, resting her head on the shoulders of an Ashara who was rather shocked.

After Shiera's speech, everyone was astounded, chiefly the lovers of Jon, who commanded an explanation from the Shiera.

King Elendil thought to summon all present to the hall of stars where they may discuss this news away from prying eyes.

When they finally entered the room behind the throne where the Palantirí was kept, King Elendil locked the door and levelled his gaze to Shiera.

"Very good, Shiera Seastar ... Tell me, why do you think Jon is still alive?" Asked the king.

Shiera, feeling penetrating stares from everyone, sighed and took a step to the centre of the room.

"I strongly believe that before his body died ... Jon's soul placed itself in the body of his Wolf. He is undergoing what is known as the" Second Life ", Shiera said.

Many were filled with shock and possibly dread, and in the case of Jon's cousins and Ladies ... Hope and happiness.

The only one who didn't understand what Shiera was talking about was Durin, who put a hand to his beard.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're talking about, young lady .." Said the Lord of Khazan-Dum.

"I will explain later, King Durin…." Lord Elrond said, approaching Shiera.

King Durin grunted at the thought of being the only one in the room to not understand the strange magics of the Westerosi.

"It better be like this.. because if my assumption is true, we don't have time to waste…." Shiera said in a tone of steel.

"It seems to me that you no longer have time ... Jon died, his soul can no longer return to his body ..." Elrond said, remembering what he had learned from the Shapeshifters in Harlond years ago.

"Lady Galadriel placed a spell upon his body so that it would remain while .." Arianne said with tears of joy and excitement in her voice.

Those who understood the concept of Shapeshifter began to feel excited as hope welled up within them.

But Elrond sighed sadly when he understood what would be asked of him.

"I know what you would ask of me, and I fear the consequence; though I possess the skill to heal his body, I know little of the magic of the Skinchangers to think it would succeed ..." Elrond said, looking at Shiera reproachfully.

"What does Lord Elrond mean?" Rhaenys asked, happy to get her love back.

"Yeah, I know nought of these Northern magics ..." Durin growled.

And the Lord of Imladris lamented.

"We the Children of Ilúvatar, both the Elves and the Men, exist in two parts: a" spirit "or" soul "called Fëa that comes from the Secret Fire of Ilúvatar and the second part is a physical body or Hröa that is made of the material to Burn."

"And what of the dwarves?" Durin growled, feeling that his race was being slighted.

Everyone groaned as the pride of the Dwarves was brought forth.

"I am afraid that the exact composition of the Mountain Fathers is only known to Lord Aulë, King Durin; it was not my intention to offend you, but I must explain these magics as I know them; please do not interrupt me," Elrond said sternly.

"Very good Lord of Imladris", Durin mumbled gruffly.

The Westerosi who met Durin in Khazan-Dûm smiled as they realized that the old king had never changed.

"they have a "spirit" or "soul" called a fëa which comes from the Secret Fire of Ilúvatar, and a body or hröa which is made out of the material of Arda. The Elves compared the relationship of hröa and fëa to a House and an Indweller. For this reason, when death (which is the separation of the two) occurred, the fëa was said to be "houseless" or "in exile". Fëar are said to come from beyond the created Universe, directly from Ilúvatar, while hröar are of course begotten by parents. According to the Elves, the fëa is nearly powerless without the hröa, and likewise, the hröa would die without the fëa. Only when they are together are the Children of Ilúvatar complete beings who can take part in the history of the world, for which reason they are called the Incarnates by the Elves.

"But what does that have to do with Jon Lord Elrond?" Sansa asked.

"I'm getting there, my girl, the destiny of us Elves' fate is to live as long as Arda exists; they are bound to the world and cannot leave it. Unlike Men, Elves do not die of disease or of old age. For this reason, their hröar are much more well adapted to the presence of their fëar than Men. Their spirits are in considerably greater control of their bodies. In turn, the Elves' hröar are much more durable than those of Men, and they can heal from wounds that would be fatal to mortals.

"For example, because of the pain," Daenerys said, alarmed, looking at Írimë's decrepit appearance.

"Yes, since fëar are indestructible within the world, while hröar can be broken by the disorders of Arda Marred, "death", which is their separation, is an ever present risk of existence in Middle-earth, even for the Elves. They may be slain or lose the will to live, for instance, because of grief. When an Elf dies, the fëa leaves the hröa, which then "dies" and is reabsorbed into Arda. The fëa is called to the Halls of Mandos, where it is judged. After a time of Waiting, the fëa may be reincarnated into a newborn body that is identical to the previous hröa if allowed by Mandos. It is only by coming to Mandos that an Elvish fëa can hope to be reincarnated, as the Elves do not possess this ability in themselves. Alternatively, a fëa might decide to stay in Mandos until the end of Arda, or it may be denied reincarnation if it had done much evil in life."Elrond concluded.

"Like Fëanor" Said Queen Rhaella.

"Yes, he will never leave the Rooms of Command until the breaking of Arda," Said the Lord of Imladris.

"But Jon is not an elf," Arya said.

"No, The situation of Men is much different from that of the Elves: a Mannish fëa is only a visitor to Arda, and when the hröa (inevitably) dies, the fëa leaves Arda ultimately. This severance of fëa and hröa happens after a short time, especially as the Elves measure it. For this reason, it is said that Men are not bound to the fate of Arda as the Elves are and are released from Time itself. This mode of mortality is called the Gift of Men by the Elves and is a fate unique to them, as you well know. It is important to note that Men themselves, however, rarely view death as a Gift and even have traditions stating that they also possessed immortality until they were corrupted by Morgoth.

What happens to Men after death is unknown to any of the inhabitants of Arda, except perhaps some of the Valar. The Elves said that they went to the Halls of Mandos as well, though without choice in the matter and were there given up to Eru, though this is mere speculation. "Elrond said with his hand on his chin.

"And we cannot remain in this world somehow?" Arya asked.

"That's impossible little one," Lord Círdan said sympathetically.

"Why?" Little Stark asked.

"Because it is Erú's will", Círdan replied.

"It cannot be contradicted", Sansa questioned.

"Precisely," said the Lord of the Gray Havens with a sad smile.

"Some were cursed to stay in Arda. However, the Valar proclaimed to the Elves that eventually, the race of Men would participate in the Second Music of the Ainur, whereas the ultimate fate of the Elves is unknown. Because the fëar of Men must leave the world while the Elves must remain in it until its end, it is said the fates of Men and Elves are sundered., "Elrond said, finishing his lesson.

"We already knew that, but what does that mean for my brother?" Rhaenys asked impatiently.

Elrond merely groaned in sadness though Celebrían sought to comfort her husband, and it appeared to work as the Lord of Imladris smiled.

"Spell or no, Jon's body is scored by many wounds, and healing them will be an arduous task..." Elrond began.

"But you possess the arts to heal, correct?" Írimë said with an anxious expression.

"I am obliged to answer the honestly ... So, yes, but that is not the only quandary", The Lord of Imladris continued.

"What else?" Ashara asked, feeling more and more impatient.

"Due to the nature of fu Fëa, there is no way of knowing if Jon's spirit will return to his body... If what Lady Shiera told us about the" Skinchangers is true ", It is possible that inside Jon, there is nothing left of the man, only a beast," Elrond said calmly.

The latter made Jon's Ladies think about whether what they were trying to do was right; they wished to pull someone from the Rooms of Command, which was not natural ... but a sin of the natural order. But this could be their only chance to see Jon again.

"Please, Lord Elrond .." Heal Jon", pleaded a tearful Sansa.

"My girl ..." Elrond tried to say.

"Please, Elrond", Lady Írimë said with tears in her eyes, clutching his robes with what little strength she possed.

Seeing her in such a mournful and gaunt state, Elrond's will faltered as it was apparent that Lady Írimë was dying of grief, as did her own great-grandmother, Lúthien when her great-grandfather Beren perished for the first time.

Although the two were distantly related and Elrond did not wish the Lady's death, he could not help but think that this would have dire consequences.

Looking for aid, he glanced at the wisest person in the room ... the Lady Galadriel.

The Lady of Belfalas was unusually downcast throughout the conversation; she would have already expressed her opinion on such an important matter, but now she only listened to everything around her with an indifferent expression on her face.

"Mother?" Celebrían asked, confused by her mother's attitude.

"Do it, Elrond ... You must help them", Said the Lady of Light, looking at her son-in-law seriously.

"My Lady, I did not think that you of all people would agree with this ..." The Lord of Imladris said in surprise.

"I ... I am not, but I feel that this will be important for the Ages to come, just that it is not clear to me if it will be for better or for worse," Galadriel said, struggling to control her emotions so that her daughter did not discover the proper intentions.

She would do it herself, but Galadriel knew perfectly well that in the healing arts, Elrond surpassed her considerably.

Finarfin's daughter knew that Elrond's reasons for not agreeing were fitting, but even so, her intuition told her that they must try; they must fight to bring Jon back.

Galadriel had already lost her husband. She couldn't bear to lose Jon, too, even if her love for him wracked her guilt and shame.

Realizing there was no point in further arguing a reluctant, Elrond nodded in defeat.

Jon's body was cleaned and dressed as befits a Prince and placed on a bed of sheets outside the palace with Ghost at his side and several guards watching.

Throughout the night, Elrond, Shiera, and Ashara worked to create Miruvor, the only substance capable of healing Jon's body despite no longer possessing life.

Although Shiera and Ashara could brew their own draught, the Miruvor created by Elrond was much more potent as he possessed far more knowledge of its brewing and distillation.

However, according to Elrond himself, his Miruvor was nothing more than an inferior brew of the original since the original is made with the flowers that grow in the fields of Yavanna in Aman; these plants would not grow outside Valinor, and so the Miruvor of the West was far greater than any they could brew here.

Yet Elrond's Miruvor was the closest in likeness to that mythical substance that could be found in Middle-earth.

It was in a tempered flask; the Miruvor was clear and colourless, with a pleasant fragrance.

"It's ready," Elrond said that despite his doubts, he was pleased with his work.

"Do you think this shall works?" Ashara asked hopefully.

"I don't know, everything is based on the theory that Jon's mind resides in his wolf, and if so, we don't know how much sanity has given way to the savagery of the beast," Elrond said analytically.

"If this doesn't work ..." Ashara began fearfully.

"At least we tried, but I know it will work, I know," Shiera said with tears in her eyes, praying to the Valar to be correct.

The Westerosi Ladies accompanied Elrond to where Jon's body rested, sheltered from the wind and illuminated by the stars, guarded by his faithful Wolf though the Gryphon was nowhere to be seen it had gone hunting.

The Wolf only saw them and did nothing to stop them, which led Elrond and Ashara to believe that Shiera may be right.

The Westerosi Ladies witnessed how the son of Eärendil poured the precious liquid on the wounds, and before their stunned gaze, they saw the colour return to Jon's body and his wounds began to close.

Shiera and Ashara, with a smile, went to check Jon's body and, weeping with joy, they found that he had warmth.

"He's alive .." Ashara said, crying with joy.

"Yes .." Shiera said anxiously, waiting for the moment when her dragon would wake up.

But that moment never came ...

Although Elrond used all his Miruvor, Jon's condition did not wake. In the end, it seemed that the Lord of Imladris was right .. Jon's soul did go to the Rooms of Command.

Realizing that their efforts were in vain, the two maidens howled in misery.

Upon seeing them, Elrond felt compassion for them, and despite wanting to comfort them, he decided that it was best to let them grieve, so he quietly left, leaving Shiera and Ashara to vent their pain for losing their beloved dragon forever.

Jon's funeral was splendid as all the Arnor nobility and cavalry were present, making a line of knights to receive the body of their fallen hero.

Jon's body would be cremated in accordance with the traditions of House Targaryen.

Queen Rhaella allowed nothing else and fiercely defended Jon's ancestry and did so with such fury that none dared to question her.

Arianne and Rhaenys came first, their eyes raw and swollen from grief.

Daenerys and her mother walked arm in arm, their faces wet with tears.

Ashara and Shiera escorted Jon's cousins though none could console them, for they had lost the will to love each wept bitterly for love lost and grim fortune.

And finally, the Ladies Írimë who wept terribly, resembling more a fey than elf and then came Galadriel who fared far better than her niece though knew of her grief they were accompanied by Lords Elrond, Glorfindel and Círdan.

Beside the pyre stood Loras, Robar and Anárion, who wished to bid Jon farewell.

And finally, the kings Elendil, Gil-Galad and Durin, who looked on with melancholy and solemnity as the body of Jon was placed upon the burial pyre.

Warrior, leader, singer, poet, builder, scholar, blacksmith, shipwright and sailor ... It is madness that one so noble as he must be cut down in the flower of youth.

Seeing that everyone had arrived, Elendil cleared his voice and welcomed everyone with open arms.

"You have been welcomed to this funeral; this is a horrid time for the enemy has robbed us of a noble soul, one not of this land who travelled through biting foam and oceans long he came to these shores at the whims of the Valar and fought as a true Lord of Westernesse in defence of the free peoples and though he like shall not be seen in these parts and ages again we shall never forget his sacrifice, "Elendil said sadly.

Many of the townspeople shed tears for Jon, chiefly the maidens of Annúminas and his lovers.

"The young lord shall go now to the halls of his fathers where he shall feast and drink eternally," Said the High King of the Dunedain, giving a signal to the men to light the pyre.

When they saw the pile begin to burn, they all each remembered fondly the moments they shared with Jon; they felt that a feeling of great sorrow was consuming them.

The elves who had accompanied them sung a lament for the fallen lord, and their beautiful voices filled all with joy and woe in equal measure.

Out of doubt, out of dark, to the day's rising

he rode singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.

Hope he rekindled, and in hope ended;

over death, over dread, over doom lifted

out of loss, out of life, unto long glory.

But then a miracle took place ...

A hundred voices much deeper and more potent than those of the elves began to sing and was heard by all in Annúminas, and the elves stopped their lament, looking for the origin of that majestic melody.

Until they discerned it, it came from Jon's funeral pyre.

The music somehow fanned the flames, and they took on a life of their own, enveloping Jon in a cocoon of fire that then took on various shades of colour. Red, blue, green, yellow, orange, purple. All spinning in the cocoon at the marvelling sight of elves, men, and dwarves.

Having a presentiment of what would happen, the Ladies of Jon tried to run towards the cocoon, but King Elendil ordered them to be held until they learned what befell Jon.

Until finally, the music enlivened all who stood there and filled their hearts with fierce courage.

Galadriel, Gil-Galad, Círdan and Elrond could feel in awe as the sound seeped into their spirits and filled their minds with many wonderous images. His creation and the appearance of his ancestors in Cuivienen, the arrival of men in Hildorien and the creation of the dwarves.

Then the great ones among the Noldor widened their teary eyes with emotion and understood that it was that majestic music.

The music of the Ainur ... The Great Music that gave rise to Eä.

It was there when the music stopped leaving everyone dismayed, and the cocoon of fire with Jon's body inside it exploded, completely illuminating the entire City with a light dazzling that rivalled the star eternal. Faced with such a pure and intense light, everyone present shielded their eyes, lest they be blinded.

Finally, everyone began to open their eyes and saw something extraordinary. The entire city had been covered by nature, trees and flowers burgeoning uncontrollably from the ground, the walls ... Even the air in the city was so pure many thought they sat upon the highest peaks of Arda.

None believed what they saw until a yell was heard and a maiden pointed to Jon's funeral pyre ... And no one uttered a word.

The pyre had been destroyed was covered in ash, that being the only place covered with dust, and the timbers were now one on top of the other, ruining the glorious form that had been given to serve as a bed for Jon's body, in addition, Jon's body was left buried under the burned timbers ... But that was not what terrified them all.

A young woman noticed that the timbers were moving ... when there was nothing but Jon's body underneath.

To the amazement of everyone present, they could see how the blackened timbers began to move until finally they were cast aside.

At first, nobody believed what they saw, but now they could see Jon Snow covered in ash and dust.

Jon's lovers and family began to cry with happiness while their companions thanked Erú for his mercy.

There they realized that Jon was not alone on the pyre.

He bore a stout blue shield upon its face was the device of Finwë, a many rayed sun of gold.

But that was not all ... Gasps and shouts, and soon many bows were strung and axes drawn.

On Jon's shoulder was a very diminutive creature that looked like a serpent with tiny wings and that plaintively looked at everything around it with curiosity.

The elves who saw it noticed that it had bronze scales with greenish-blue highlights and bright green eyes.

If there was any doubt about the creature's identity, it began to choke from the dust, and a tiny bit of fire emerged from its small jaws.

A dragon, Jon, returned from the dead and emerged from the fire and ashes with a dragon.

Though it seemed that this hatchling was not alone as several others crawled from the pyre.

One had scarlet scales and pink membranes on its wings; another was pale blue, with silver markings. It had silver crests and pale blue wings; next came a dragon with gleaming gold scales, which shone like beaten gold in the sunlight, and pale pink wing membranes. Another had golden eyes and silverly golden scales. Then came another this dragon wings were a dark cobalt, while its claws, crest, and belly scales were the colour of bright beaten copper. And finally came a dragon of purest silver.

And all looking confused at what was transpiring around them.

They were dragons ... But the Lord of Middle Earth could feel that they were not the monsters that Morgoth created to defeat the elves but that these tiny creatures were birthed by the will of Erú, there was little doubt in their minds ... Ilúvatar had used his power and authority to grant the dragons a place in his song.

At that moment, Jon left his funeral pyre, seemingly confused by all around him as if he had woken from some strange dream.

In fact, he didn't even seem to notice the little dragons next to him.

Seeing such a great act as the resurrection and the creation of new life, all the citizens, knights and nobles bowed in reverence.

Seeing him, Lady Galadriel uttered "Norgalaben" and lowered her gaze.

It was there that a profound and powerful vision of the future reached her.

Galadriel saw Jon with all his lovers, even herself though they weren't alone.

Along with Arianne Martell were three children, two boys who looked like her and a girl who had blonde hair with grey eyes.

With Rhaenys Targaryen, there were also children, a boy identical to Jon with the same eyes, a girl similar to Rhaenys but with grey eyes, and a silver-blond haired boy with grey eyes.

There was Rhaella with a little girl on her lap who had Jon ebon locks and beautiful amethyst eyes.

With Daenerys Targaryen, there was a boy identical to her and two girls; one had dark hair and the other blonde hair.

With Ashara Dayne, there was a boy and a girl, both with dark hair and violet eyes.

With Shiera Seastar, there was also a silver-blond boy with violet eyes and a silver-haired, grey-eyed girl.

The following Ladies were clearly Jon's cousins.

With Sansa Stark, there were four children, two boys and two girls; the oldest was red-haired with violet eyes just like the youngest boy, but this one had grey eyes, as for the girls, both had dark hair, but one had blue eyes and the other grey eyes.

With Arya Stark, there were three boys, a pair of twins and a girl; the twins were indistinguishable from each other except that one had grey eyes and the other violet as the girl had silver-blonde hair and blue eyes.

But the last two shocked her.

Her aunt Írimë was surrounded by three children, a boy and a girl who had the golden hair of the Vanyar and violet eyes, while she had a baby in her arms with dark hair much like her grandfather Finwë and her cousin Caranthir but with sparkling emerald green eyes.

The last sight made her gasp:

She was with two twin children like her aunt, a boy and a girl both with Jon's hair but with her eyes and finally in her arms, there was a beautiful baby with her golden locks and with grey eyes but not the greys of the Noldor but grey eyes like Arya Stark's.

Galadriel gasped in surprise, putting a hand to her mouth as she gazed upon Jon.

"Could this happen, or will it inevitably occur? ... Galadriel thought with a smile, still grieved for husband, but this had granted her some hope.

The Dark Lord of Mordor was at the time in his forge on Mount Doom; he had been shaping the ring of his former servant.

Khamûl had been released from his thralldom, and his spirit is now resided in the Rooms of Command, although it would do his servant little good as Namo was most unkind to his servants.

But what mattered was that he had lost one of his Nazgûl to Jon Snow's cursed sword; it seemed his old master had decided to mettle in the affairs of men that spiteful fool.

Just thinking of Aulë filled Sauron with anger and resentment as his meddling lost him the Palantirí of Isengard and one of his chiefest servants,

And it seems that Erú acting in the world again ... Just remembering what transpired the last time he did it ... It caused the Dark Lord fear and anguish.

Erú had granted Jon a second life just as he had done with Beren a millennia ago.

With that in mind, he placed the ring in water to cool.

Although all was not lost, the husband of Finarfin's daughter had died at the hands of his spear; with it, the protectors of Middle-earth had lost one of their leaders though it filled him with elation knowing he had caused Galadriel such misery.

That was the sweetest of all; that arrogant and proud elf has been a thorn in his side since the days he bore the name Annatar.

Sauron had not foreseen the power the blood of Morgoth held, but it pleased him all the same; indeed, he was the wisest in the arts of smithing.

But now he has something more on his mind ... Revenge.

He could not defeat them through strength of arms that was apparent, but he could sow the seeds of dissension among the Westerosi just as he had done with High Men of Númenor.

The Valar hoped to spread their influence to the outer lands they would have never called their puppets to Middle-earth otherwise, and they hoped that they would prove worthy to lead those primitive men though they shall not contend with the will of the Lord of Mordor.

He thought maliciously as he gazed upon the ring that had been Khamûl's, of all the nine rings of men; this was now the mightiest.

He just needed a suitable wielder, someone powerful and wise but arrogant and reckless enough to believe that he could wield the ring without reprisal.

The Dark Lord has visited Westeros on numerous occasions, such as during the Dance of the Dragons or the First Blackfire Rebellion, and it has been amusing to observe the barbarism of Westerosi, but still, he has never found anything or anyone worthwhile ... Until now.

He already had a wielder in mind for his ring, someone who could spread the darkness and despoil any designs the Valar might have for those lands ... He merely lacked the proper counsel.

After that, the Dark Lord of Mordor took the form of a dark cloud and, leaving Mount Doom, flew in the direction of the East.

Sauron would search Westeros for his own Dragon.