Jon of Westeros
By
Ritchy Targaryen
Notes:
This story is based mostly upon the videogame [The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt] and the TV series [Game of Thrones]. Although, I'm a big fan of both franchises I'm highly disappointed with the lack of fanfics for the Witcher fandom. So here I am with my own work.
This is a crossover, meaning it blends two different worlds and many characters, so I can take liberties with certain alterations within my story. So this is set in alternative Westeros where Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen survived Robert's Rebellion. Aegon and Rhaenys live as well as their mother.
This is a threesome: Jon Snow | Jaehaerys Targaryen / Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia) / Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon | Ciri
So, you might notice English is not my native language but I'm doing my best to write this down. I need a Beta-reader.
Summary:
Jon lost his mother and sister due to man's desire for coins. Heartbroken and feeling let down by his own family, Jon leaves King's Landing as he searches for his sister Visenya. But he didn't know that his destiny would lead him to another path. Jon would soon enough discover that. And even if he didn't want it, The Prince That Was Promised needed his Lady of Space and Time.
PROLOGUE
The crow's squawk woke Jon up.
He blinked several times trying to separate the illusions of the dreams from reality, his hands trembled as he felt sweat running down his forehead; some hair stuck to his skin.
Jon felt as if a rope were wrapped around his neck, an immense pressure prevented him from breathing well. He immediately grasped his throat trying to reach the damn rope, but his fingers only found skin and sweat, and he immediately got up off the ground. He tried to swallow hard without much success and coughed several times while rubbing his neck. Jon had never feared dreams, neither the twisted nightmares he had to live. This dream was new and extremely irritating. The shadows of nightmares could no longer chase him, but he still had in his mind the memory of the raw malice behind those eyes.
Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning, watched his protégé from the opposite distance at the campfire that separated them. The prince he saw growing up in the security of the Red Keep was still a child, someone whom Queen Lyanna would be proud of, but now the prince's eyes had that confusion that long ago he had not seen in them.
Jon pressed his forehead to his knees, grabbed the black curls growing from his head, and buried his fingers in his dark mane. He felt his heart racing in his chest with accelerated beats. After a while, Jon looked up at the mountains where the sun was beginning to rise. Calm washed over him at that instant.
"A nightmare, cub?" The young prince ignored his guardian and rose from the ground. Despite having slept, he was so exhausted. "Did something happen?"
Jon found comfort on a rock near the fire and propped his elbows on his thighs. Without looking away from the flames, he nodded several times.
"Anything you want to tell me?"
Jon sighed, laced his fingers, and leaned in a little more. Ser Arthur Dayne was able to recognise the shadow of the beard that grew at the edge of his jaw. The prince growled.
"I dreamed..." He looked at Arthur. "I dreamed that I was in King's Landing." He focused his attention on the fire. "I was training in the Red Keep when suddenly…"
"Rhaenys?" Jon smiled.
"Mm-hm," he sighed. "You know? Rhaenys has never been a fan of training with me or Aegon, and somehow it seemed so real."
"Was she bothering you with something?" Jon tossed a piece of cloth into the fire, an old bandage.
"No," he shook his head, "she was babbling about magic."
"Who would have said it?" He laughed. "Little, sweet Rhaenys."
The young prince would begin to feel the warm caress of the Sun on his cheeks, slightly irritating his eyes and making the armour glow. The golden light brought some calm which Jon welcomed it with a slight smile, but remember the warmth of the sun also led to a painful memory settled in his mind of when the winter roses bathed with their aroma the home he lost. He puffed, trying to hold back the tears.
"We should get going," and he rose from the hard rock, unravelling his fingers to adjust the straps of his gloves.
"Wait." Sir Arthur was already on his feet, his helmet tucked under his armpit. "Where do you plan to go?"
Jon raised an eyebrow and looked at his tutor, his teacher, and most confident knight. The old royal knight only arched his neck in a certain way that a crack was heard.
"Won't you come with me, Sir Arthur?" He already knew the answer but he wanted to try to convince him.
"No, your grace," Jon growled at that final word. "I like the very idea of going on an adventure with you, Prince Jaeha–…"
"I don't like that name," Jon said with a frown and folding his arms, "not a bit. I am Jon, that's my name, and I will be Jon forever. That is the name my mother gave me."
Ser Arthur shrugged.
"Hugh... Jaehaerys. That was the name your father gave you… but that doesn't matter." He sighed and made an apathetic gesture with his hand. "You know that I would never abandon you on this strange journey you are trying to start -whatever you want to call it- but your father, King Rhaegar, has given an order and he will not stop looking for you for anything in the world."
"What's stopping you from accomplishing your mission?"
"Actually? Nothing."
Jon snorted.
"But I have known you well enough to know that you will not stop, you will always find a way to escape again." The slight smile he had turned in a terrible expression of pain as he remembered the reason behind. "I wish it hadn't happened."
"Is there no way to convince you?" Arthur knew Jon ignored his words in spit of his own tears, so he shook his head. "Will you return to King's Landing?"
"It is where my duty lies," Arthur replied, stroking his steed down the trunk and whistling with his teeth. "Jon, are you sure you don't want to go back to your family? To your siblings? to your uncles? To your father?" He grabbed the reins and untangled them from the tree. "Don't you want to go home?"
Jon smiled, but his eyes drowned in the darkness of agonizing grief. He affirmed his mare's saddlebags as he listened to the knight, but mainly focusing his attention on securing all of his stuff. From one of his saddlebags, he took out a small piece of cloth, the last remaining piece of a loved one whose memory turned in poison his blood. He looked at Arthur and nodded to himself.
"Think of your brothers."
"You and I know," he began in a low voice, "that Aegon only seeks to make my father happy by spending time with me." He stroked the soft fabric in his hands, the perfume of winter roses still on it. "As much as I want... I can't go back, I won't, King's Landing stopped being my home. The Red Keep is no longer my home. And my family are now to me strangers after my mother was killed and my sister was taken."
Jon approached his teacher, gripping the last possession he had over his mother and sister. The little grey silk cloth that still smelled of winter roses. Sir Arthur looked at him peculiarly.
"Here," he said, offering the extended cloth. "It is the last thing left of my mother and Visenya."
Sir Arthur took the cloth and saw the sigil of Stark House growled in the grey field next to the three-headed crimson dragon of the Targaryens and a ring of winter roses.
"There's you too, Jon," she said, looking away from the fabric.
"I ceased to exist the same day my mother and Visenya were stolen from me." A tear escaped Jon's violet eyes. "It will be proof enough that you found my body."
"Jon. What do you plan to do?" He noted the absence of people near the Kingsroad.
Jon shrugged and looked up at the sky
"Find answers, find out who killed my mother and why, and try to save Visenya."
"What will I say to your father when I return? Where will you go?"
"I don't know that yet." He smiled sadly and squeezed his guardian on the shoulder. "I will take care of myself."
Ser Arthur just nodded and looked at his protégé one last time before getting on his steed.
"Our paths will cross one day."
"Of that, I'm not so sure, Arthur."
"Farewell, Your grace."
And, with one last handshake, Prince Jaehaerys Targaryen son of King Rhaegar Targaryen and the late Queen Lyanna Stark turned away from the famous knight ser Arthur Dayne to resume his own journey.
Following his heart to the place that, for some reason, had a connection to his dreams and the death of his mother and the disappearance of his younger sister
