A/N: Hope you are all staying safe from the coronavirus. Given that everything is on lock down, we can only hope for the best and that the virus ends soon.

On the bright side, I get to focus on writing. Enjoy!

Sam sifted through the various papers on the low table as he sat across Quartermaster Shin in his room. He was thankful for the cushion on the floor, as he had never sat on the floor before and knew he would experience discomfort after only a few minutes. He had to sit for what he assumed were several hours, going through tedious matters such as soldiers' pay, commissary affairs, and other matters pertaining to army supply.

However, occasionally, Kang Shin asked for Sam's help in cross-referencing what he called the "tip scroll." Sam was confused at the simple title for what Shin treated as an important set of scrolls, but that was before he looked closely at what the scrolls contained. Judging from how the characters were arranged, they formed names and particular numbers. Sam then cursed himself for overthinking the scrolls' meaning, as "tips" referred to exactly that, information offered by certain people and the numbers were amounts paid to those people for their information.

Sam found out from the other administrative officers that the Quartermaster was also involved in intelligence affairs aside from ensuring that the army remained sufficiently supplied. It made sense to Sam, as information from the field and other threats to the army would affect the supply trains and networks. Most of the sources were civilians, people who lived outside headquarters but were close enough to be reached by the quartermaster's subordinates.

Sam talked to the other officers who worked for Shin and learned that the most important sources were those from the steppes, as they were in a good position to monitor the movements of steppe tribes such as the Goi and the Chogo. Even though the Goi were clients of the empire, it was no secret that a few of the tribal chiefs were unhappy at what they perceived as "collaboration with the southern enemy" and thus they had to be watched to ensure that none of the more influential chiefs would step out of line. As such, sources from the steppes were paid handsomely.

With so much information coming in, Sam questioned on how to identify which information was accurate and had veracity and which contained lying and unnecessary details. That was where Shin came in, stated the other officers. He organized the reports based on dates and locations and examined those that came within a few days of each other at most and from roughly the same place. If both reports stated similar things, then the tip was considered reliable and thus included in Lord Joon's daily briefing, which was also attended by the other senior officers and commanders in the Northwest Army.

As intelligence was considered a vital area of the army, Quartermaster Shin had access to large portion of the army's funds, roughly one thousand taels a moon for tips alone. Besides making sure the soldiers were paid on time, Sam had to ensure that the sources were paid accordingly and that there was no inflation in the amounts. At least I'm not freezing in the cold and being made to wield a blade, Sam thought on the boredom of his current duties.

"Remind me again where you're from, Tarly," Shin spoke to Sam in goryeomal. As a native of the eastern provinces, that was the tongue he was most comfortable with.

Sam took a moment to find the words. "I am from Horn Hill, Quartermaster."

"Where in Westeros is that?" Shin kept his focus on his papers.

"In the southern parts, in the Red Mountains of the Dornish Marches to be exact," Sam said slowly.

"Ah," Shin nodded. "From what I've read of Westeros, the Dornish Marches is a hostile place and that those who live there have a reputation developed from fighting various conflicts with each other. Is your family such people, Tarly?"

"You could say that, Quartermaster," Sam replied sheepishly.

Shin set down his brush and looked at Sam in the eyes. Sam almost flinched from how piercing Shin's gaze was, and could sense malice behind them. It was the same malice that Sam saw whenever Alliser Thorne looked upon him and Jon.

"Don't do that, Tarly," Shin shook his head.

"Do what, Quartermaster?" Sam was getting nervous.

"When I ask you a question, you either answer fully or not at all. Don't give me half-answers like some cretin," Shin spoke.

Sam gulped. "I'm sorry, Quartermaster."

"Don't apologize. Just answer my question again."

Sam set down his brush. "Yes, my people do have roots in the Dornish Marches. My family, my house, is one of the major lords in that region."

"And let me guess. Your father is a warrior but you're not and he's disappointed that you are not built for combat. You were more inclined to the brush and paper and for that, he treated you very badly and that's why you're here. Did I miss anything?" Shin asked.

Sam's eyes widened. How did he know? He knew that Quartermaster Shin could read people, as that came with his duties of ensuring the army was supplied and looking over intelligence reports, but he didn't know that Shin was that good.

Shin scoffed. "Of course. Such a shame, really. The quibble or brush can determine the fate of more lives than a blade ever could and thus your father proved his stupidity by rejecting you."

Sam blinked. "Stupidity?"

Shin sighed. "That's the problem with men in general. They cannot see past what's in front of them, be it with their blades or with their cocks, and your father and family are no exception. I should know because I used to be one of them."

Sam nodded. "I know, Quartermaster Shin. You served in the cavalry under Lord Joon before you decided that being in administration worked better for you."

"But that's not everything. I realized that as a soldier, I might determine the fate of one man, three at the most, but the world will keep marching on. With the stroke of a brush, thousands of lives are affected. And that is power, Tarly, a concept many might think they understand but few actually do," Shin explained.

Sam narrowed his eyes. "So is that why you went into administration? To have power?"

Shin pursed his lips. "The empire might not have nobility that can command armies like in Westeros, but they still hold considerable influence at court and in its many establishments. The general might have passed the examinations, but then again, men like him are guaranteed to pass since they had the resources and time to prepare since birth. As for me, I come from rice farming stock and the only reason why I was able to pass was because the monks at the village monastery helped me."

"Why are you telling me this?" Sam asked with surprise at Shin revealing much about his background.

"Because I want to say that I am better than you in many ways that you cannot imagine and also General Kitara," Shin answered.

Sam frowned. "Because you were not nobility but you still were able to rise through the ranks to become Quartermaster? And you think that makes you better than me?"

"No matter how your father treated you, Tarly, you lived an existence more comfortable than most people, people that you would never meet naturally," Shin pointed out. "You had servants and people you can call on. For me, I had to earn my way in this world and it wasn't handed to me on a platter. And I was able to push through that impenetrable barrier that divided those who ruled from those who are ruled. Would you be able to do that if you were in my position?"

Sam took a moment to form his answer. "Maybe not," Sam admitted. "But there are some things that you cannot attain from sheer effort alone."

"And what would that be, Tarly?"

"You might have worked your way up the ladder and obtained a powerful position, so I applaud you for your efforts," Sam commended Shin. "However, you were part of the ruled as you say and learning how to be among those who rule is not something that you can learn by yourself. One mistake, and you're cast out with little chance of returning. And what will you say of your efforts then?"

Shin's jaws tightened. Oh, you haven't thought about that possibility, have you?

"And what would a white devil like yourself know about effort?" Shin scoffed.

Sam shook his head. "I might be young and inexperienced with the world, Quartermaster, but I know what nobility and seen the effects of power. You only know an idea of it and that's not the same."

Shin suddenly stood up. "I've just remembered something. I have to meet with General Shun to answer his issues with the cavalry's conditions. Therefore, I must delegate the completion of the rest of today's expense reports to you."

Sam's eyebrows were raised in confusion. "That's going to take me more than a few hours, Quartermaster, and we're already past midday. I have to return to Kushiro by dusk."

"Then you better get work quickly but efficiently then," Shin told him before moving out of the room.

Sam sighed. Why didn't I keep my mouth shut? Lord Joon gave him duties to fulfill and Sam was going to see them done, even if some of those duties were imposed upon him out of pettiness.

On the other hand, Sam was getting better at reading the Yi-Tish tongues and decided to see this as a chance to get a completely good hold on them.

After the day's work was done, a courier was responsible for submitting them to the Adjutant-General of the Northwest Army, who managed all administrative matters for General Kitara. However, Sam decided to form his own relationship with the Adjutant and walked to his room himself.

Sensing the unease by the guards outside of the door at the sight of a 'white devil' despite being there for three moons, Sam told one of them, "I have the scrolls that Quartermaster Shin told me to deliver to Adjutant Dae. I am here to deliver them personally."

The guard hesitated before announcing Sam's presence through the screen door. After hearing Dae bidding Sam to enter, he walked through the screen doors as they closed behind him and looked upon the Northwest's adjutant.

Although less powerful than the Quartermaster-General, the Adjutant-General, Yuxin Dae, interacted with General Kitara more frequently than Kang Shin did and thus the two had a closer working relationship with each other.

From what Sam heard of Dae, he had come from a wealthy merchant family who was close to the prime minister, the second-most powerful official in the empire loosely similar to the Hand of the King, and had just entered the nobility. But being the second son, Yuxin Dae opted to take the military examinations and worked his way up to become a cavalry brigade commander. Sam thought it was strange that someone from a family such as his would choose cavalry before remembering that only knights or houses of some considerable repute could afford horses. That's when Sam understood that the army was a social establishment as much as it was an armed one, which would explain why many such as Lord Joon and Dae would start out as cavalrymen.

But then, Sam was confused as to how a man like Kang Shin was able to been if he had told the truth regarding his background. A question for another time, Sam thought.

"You're not the usual courier from Quartermaster Shin," Dae remarked in nihongo.

"No, Adjutant. I am not," Sam replied. "I am Samwell Tarly—"

"Yes, yes, I know who you are. You're Lord Joon's white monkey," Dae blurted out.

"I beg your pardon?" Sam knew instantly that was a very low insult.

"He found you and your friends stranded and you follow him and Quartermaster Shin around like his bitch," Dae scoffed. "What shall we do with you?"

Sam laid the scrolls on his table and wanted to leave quickly. "These are the scrolls of this army's expenses and the intelligence reports compiled by the quartermaster. The quartermaster sends his regards," Sam dipped his head before turning to leave.

"I didn't dismiss you, you white devil," Dae stopped him. Standing up from behind his table, Dae came closer to Sam. He looked at him up and down. "It's a wonder that the beasts in the world didn't devour you. Good thing that you're not a soldier, otherwise you would be the first to be killed. Your belly would make quite the target for enemy archers."

Sam controlled his nervousness. "Is there are a point you're trying to make, Adjutant?"

But to his surprise, Dae smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Lord Tarly. I'm just trying to measure you and most men would have been quaked at what I just did. Have a seat, my lord."

Sam sat down slowly on the cushion opposite of Yuxin, relieved that he wasn't serious but still uneasy.

"I have that you have done some fine work with the Quartermaster, Lord Tarly," Yuxin sat back down on the cushion. "He's not an easy man to please and anyone who does so is someone to take note of."

"I haven't pleased him, Adjutant," Sam answered. "But he hasn't complained."

"So I've heard. Now usually, someone who does excellent work for three moons is eligible for a promotion," Yuxin stated, which caused an innocent smile to form on Sam's face. "However, that only applies to those with officer commissions and therefore you are not included." Sam's smile dropped.

"Then why tell me this?"

"Because you have done fine work for this army so far and such work merits a reward, wouldn't you say?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't expect much rewards. General Kitara's generosity is more than enough."

"Come now, my lord," Yuxin said. "That attitude is not a way for you to move up in the world. You might be of nobility, but you also have to show some initiative. Take what you can and no one should tell you differently."

"There are some who might disagree with that," Sam replied, thinking of his father's response whenever he chose books to the sword.

"Then they are fools, for the world awaits no one," Yuxin answered. You are the second person to call my father a fool.

"What reward are you thinking of?" Sam wanted to end the suspense.

"I've put in a word with the Captain Han, who was sent here from the capital to help acquaint our troops with the new black powder weapons. He needs an assistant who is good with numbers and is capable of dealing with changing conditions, and your name came up," Yuxin explained.

Sam exhaled. "If I may be frank, that doesn't seem like a promotion. I'm already doing similar duties with Quartermaster Shin and I fear that my duties with this Captain Han would interfere with my current duties."

"It is a promotion, Lord Tarly. An assistant to an officer sent from the capital requires a military commission, which you shall be given when you take the position."

Sam was confused. "A commission?"

"Yes," Yuxin affirmed. "It's only a temporary commission, mind you, but you would be treated as an officer."

"Do you have permission from General Kitara to offer me this?"

"Yes, I do." But Sam had learned something very important. As obstructive and vindictive as Kang Shin was, he never lied to him and was very brutally honest with Sam. For Yuxin, he was smiling and kind, but such a face was meant to cover a malicious intent and Sam knew that there was more to what Yuxin was offering than what he was revealing.

"And so, you wouldn't mind if I were to return to Kushiro by dusk and ask the general if he gave you permission to offer me that?" Sam asked. As expected, the smile on Yuxin's face disappeared. "And I'm guessing that Captain Han never told me he wanted an assistant?"

Yuxin sighed. "Looks like you are not thick. Well, my father said that appearances could be deceiving so I better remember that the next time."

Sam cocked his head. "So what's your real reason for offering me this?"

Yuxin licked his lips. "Quartermaster Shin is a commoner, as you might have heard." Sam nodded. "And yet he has major responsibilities. One has to wonder how he does it."

"I don't see where I fit in this," Sam said.

"I am getting to that. You're a white devil and thus your position in this empire will never be secure. That is, unless you have a more permanent post," Yuxin pointed out.

"And what is your point?" Sam wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"I require copies of the intelligence reports he receives. Not the ones he submits to the general, but the ones he deems as unnecessary. There is information worth looking over there and I would like to be the one to know about it. If you report to me and hand those copies over, I will talk with my father and he'll have you sent to the capital, where you shall receive a post more fitting for someone of your talents. What do you say?" Yuxin offered.

Sam knew that whatever Yuxin was offering did not have good consequences, but he couldn't afford to antagonize the adjutant. Mustering the calmest face he could, Sam breathed in and out before saying, "I will keep your offer in mind, adjutant. You're asking me to make a major decision and I shall need some time to consider it."

Yuxin bobbed his head, somewhat satisfied with his answer but also displeased that he didn't accept it. "You do that, but careful. Don't take too long to deliberate on it."

As soon as Sam left the main pavilion and rode back to Kushiro on horseback, he let out a heaviness that he didn't know was in him. Before coming to Yi-Ti, he was resigned to a fate at the Wall and to books. But now, he was dealing with underhanded maneuvering by officers and with affairs that he never thought he would have to deal with. The books he read never did explain on how he could cope with such a drastic change in circumstances.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. How come the books told nothing of how to deal with dangerous people? Sam thought sullenly as Kushiro came into view. Yuxin Dae was definitely dangerous, as his kind face was merely a cover and Sam was beginning to understand how to not trust smiles. Even his father never smiled at him, but he never lied. And I thought my struggles with my father taught me all there was in the world,


Jon walked with Chanhee in the tall grasses outside of Kushiro, with Ghost following close behind. It was near dusk and almost time for evening meals, but found that the diminishing rays of the sun shining on the grasses made for quite a sight. Especially when the winds blew, the rays made the grasses looked more like waves of the sea. Jon never had much experience with the sea prior to the start of his journey eastwards from Eastwatch, but he began to find some peace whenever he looked upon the ocean and the grasslands around Kushiro provided such a comfort.

"You brood more, Jon Snow?" Chanhee asked Jon in guanhua. Like Chanhee, Jon became better at speaking all three tongues of the empire and had Sam to thank since he understood the struggles. However, it was still a long way before he could have full conversations in them.

"Just appreciating the view here," Jon replied. It was the truth, as it was during dusk was Jon able to have respite from his studies in the mornings after breaking his fast and from the rigorous physical trainings under Hoon Ti in the afternoons. Dusk and the hours after their evening meals before going to sleep were the only times that Jon could fully appreciate the beauty of this place. Has the beauty around Winterfell, but it's much warmer here, Jon mused.

"Is that all?" Chanhee inquired.

Jon looked at the ground before looking back up. "There are a lot of things that I've grown to like in the past moons. It's not an easy feeling to accept that the world is bigger than you thought, but considering what I've just learned, maybe that's not a bad thing to understand that a whole world exists outside home."

"You've never been outside Westeros before coming here?" Chanhee kept up the slow pace.

Jon was hesitant to keep up his pretense as a bastard, but it was necessary despite growing to like Chanhee's company. "I'm a bastard, so there are not a lot of chances afforded to those like me. I've met people from all over Westeros, but I've never travelled myself. But in less than a year, I visited places that I've only read about in books. I drank wine in Braavos, heard singers in Pentos and Lys, talked with a sellsword in Tyrosh, and became familiar with the politics of Volantis. The books cannot match personal experience."

"I do not know," Chanhee replied. "I do not read."

Jon nodded in understanding. Chanhee might have spoken guanhua sufficiently enough besides her native tongue, but she was from the steppes and tribes from that region such as the Goi didn't have access to proper education.

"But tell me more about Westeros. What is it like over there?" Chanhee asked.

Jon smiled, excited to finally explain where he came from to someone who didn't know. "It's a large place, though. Where would you like to start?"

"Well, start with where you came from," Chanhee answered.

Jon talked to Chanhee about Winterfell, about his time spent with Arya and training Bran with the bow before and after the incident where he fell, and his time in the training yard with Robb. As much as he thought of Theon as an ass and poking at his false bastard status, Jon had to admit that the bad stuff were just as memorable as the good.

"You must close with this Arya," Chanhee remarked.

"She my sister," Jon answered.

"Is a blessing when brothers and sisters are close. I never was to mine," Chanhee admitted.

Jon glanced at her. "You no talk about it if you don't want."

"No, it fine," Chanhee answered. "After all, I the one to put knife in his back. I nine."

Jon was shocked at that revelation. Chanhee's a kinslayer?

Chanhee laughed. "Your look on face. No, I didn't kill him. Never much a brother anyway, but he good at stealing horses. Till one day, he stole horses from wrong man and got killed for it."

"I'm sorry," Jon offered.

Chanhee waved it off. "Do not be. He a lousy brother." Then, Chanhee stopped walking. "How you have it?"

"Have what?"

"Your skin was burnt, but not much," Chanhee pointed out. "How you have it?"

Jon knew that there was no way for him to explain it without giving away his Targaryen heritage. However, Chanhee revealed something personal to her and Jon felt that she deserved something from him.

"I come from the Starks and they have some magic in their blood. It's possible that some of it was used to protect my hand," Jon gave her a half-truth, like with Lord Joon.

Chanhee nodded. "But you said that the Starks come from ice. What about fire?"

Jon shrugged. "I don't know the full extent of the magical properties in my blood." That was somewhat truthful, since it was only recently that he became aware of his forefathers.

"Maybe with time, you will be able to discover more. I can help you," Chanhee said.

Jon smiled. "I'd like that."

From the balcony of Kushiro's main keep, Joon Kitara watched the exchange between the supposed Stark bastard and the Chogo woman. Walking back inside, he picked up the red dragon egg that was among Jon's possessions. Setting it down, he picked up the journal, which contained handwriting from the well-known Bloodraven. Looking through the pages, his eyes focused on a certain passage in the middle:

Sixth Moon, two hundred and twelve years after Aegon's Conquest,

The second Blackfyre Rebellion has been contained before it could do as much damage as the first one and the pretender, Daemon the second of his name, taken into custody. But unlike the first one, the second Daemon did not have the combat prowess of his father and namesake and had displayed poor planning in his attempted seizure of the throne.

And yet, throughout my interrogations of this pretender, I cannot ignore that this one has uncommon abilities. He claims to have the dreams our common ancestor Daenys "the Dreamer" had, in which he predicted that his brothers would die and that the dragon egg at Whitewalls would hatch. This Daemon is technically a dragon courtesy to Daena and Aegon the Fourth of His Name, so the dragon egg hatching might have referred to himself after the dye was washed from his silver hair. He also talked about how Ser Duncan would join the Kingsguard, which is a serious possibility given his abilities.

As a descendant of the dragons, to deny that this Daemon had the dreams would be to discount my own heritage. I might not have the dreams like Daemon claims to have or have the unburnt trait like some Targaryens were known to possess, but I can know when things can happen based on my own instincts. I also have the silver hair that only Valyrians would have and my abilities in combat manifested in a different way but I became like my ancestors before me with the bow, as was the case of Alysanne Targaryen.

A dragon cannot hope to be understood by the masses, but I have a duty to the realm and this Daemon must be dealt with. We cannot kill him, as Bittersteel would simply replace him with his younger brother Haegon. But him being blood doesn't concern me very much, as I'm already considered a kinslayer for killing the pretenders in the First Rebellion. If my grave must be spat on so that the realm would be preserved, so be it.

Joon had heard tell of this Bloodraven, but it was another thing to get a glimpse into the mind of such a notable figure. From Joon's experience, the memory of Bloodraven was distorted into a conniving sorcerer since people feared what they didn't understand. His actions in Westeros would have been made him a revered figure in Yi-Ti, as the imperial court understood the importance of cunning and the necessity of resorting to what outsiders would view as "underhanded tactics." In Yi-Ti, there was no such thing as underhandedness, as opponents had to dealt with by any means necessary. In another life, Bloodraven would have been my hero, Joon mused.

But going back to the matter of Jon, Joon knew that there was something off about him. Seeing his skin not that damaged from the fire increased his suspicions, and given his possession of Dark Sister, the dragon egg, and Bloodraven's journal, he realized that Jon had a closer connection to the dragons than he admitted. Assisting Aemon Targaryen? What a joke. Being an assistant did not warrant such gifts, or people would start aspiring to become assistants.

Joon also knew that Jon was lying or telling him half-truths when it came to his heritage. He couldn't deny that Jon had the blood of the First Men in him from what he read about them, but Joon knew that given the recent revelation, it must not have made up all of the blood in Jon's veins.

Joon talked with Hoon Ti regarding the matter. "I know he's not telling the truth about who he is," the blind captain of Kushiro's guard stated.

"How do you know?"

"He reacted… peculiarly whenever I talked about the Targaryens, Jaehaerys, and more recently, Rhaegar Targaryen. My first thought was that he was curious, but curiosity doesn't result in hitched breaths or deep conflicts."

"How can you sense conflicts in a person?" Joon remained amazed at Hoon Ti's perceptiveness despite his blindness.

"I've learned to sense things without my eyes and it's also something that you cannot develop on your own. If I were to guess, Jon is… related to the Targaryens. Or at the least has Valyrian blood in him," Hoon observed.

"Hmmm," Joon nodded.

"What do you plan to do?" Hoon asked.

"I have to find out the truth, but he's not going to respond if I ask him straight. No, I'll have to use something else."

"Such as?"

"Tell Jon that I require his presence at my evening meditations tonight before evening meals," Joon told Hoon.

"But I thought those meditations were for yourself only," Hoon crossed his arms.

"It's not just any meditation. Maybe some strong scents might give me the answers that I seek," Joon explained.

"I see," Hoon bobbed his head in understanding. "I hope he won't react badly."

"He won't," Joon answered with confidence.

After climbing down the stairs of the main keep, Joon walked to Kushiro's shrine,

the place of worship at the castle for Yi-Ti's spirits. Walking up the long path of stone stairs, one hundred steps, he arrived at the shrine, with its cypress bark roof, and a large shrine gate that stands near this place. Joon lit an incense stick, placed it in front of the tablet that had his father's name, the previous Lord of Kushiro, and bowed before it on his knees three times.

Joon then made his way inside the shrine's sanctum, which was simple room with a wooden floor and a small Juniper tree. He then lit the incense again, this one being stronger than the previous one due to having a higher concentration, and he sat down while crisscrossing his legs, resting his hands on his knees, and closing his eyes.

Breathing in the incense aroma, Joon was taken aback to when his father told him that he would have to join the army.

"I don't want to go," Joon said to his father.

"But you must. There is no greater way to make a man out of you than serving the emperor as a soldier."

"But who's going to take care of the castle when you go to the capital?"

"Your mother will. Now, I've already arranged for Abbott Cao to help you study for the military examinations in the eastern mountains and you shall be there before this moon is out. You're not the first soldier in our family and you certainly won't be the last."

"But I don't know if—"

"I shall hear no more of this," his father cut him off.

Joon might have hesitated to join the army as his father intended at the first time, but he discovered a passion for soldiery as he studied and finally became an officer. He was proud to wear a uniform and the last twenty years saw him rise to become a general while also being groomed to take his father's place as Governor of the Northwest Province. All of that would have never happened had he resisted his father's wishes and he thus learned something important: the most important and impactful decisions of life can come from a path one might not choose to walk on at first.

"My lord?" Joon heard Jon call out behind him.

"Ah, yes. Do come in," Joon sat up and bid Jon to enter.

"What is this place?" Jon looked around.

"This temple was built by my family over a thousand years ago and I come here to release the worries in my mind while pondering on the important lessons of life," Joon waved his hand throughout the temple.

"So are these the spirits that I've heard about?" Jon looked at the tree.

"Yes, but unlike your Faith of the Seven, there are no central founding figures. It is comparable to your Old Gods, but unlike the Old Gods, there are no absolutes to our way of worship. There is no absolute right and wrong, and nobody is perfect. What we believe are optimistic beliefs, as we see people as good, while evil spirits cause evil. Consequently, the purpose of most rituals is to keep away evil spirits by purification, prayers and offerings to our spirits, those that reside in nature," Joon explained.

Jon nodded. "That sounds interesting."

Joon smiled. "It is. Now come sit alongside me," he gestured to the spot next to him.

Jon copied Joon's sitting posture. "Usually you light incense before entering this place, but considering that this is your first time, I shall overlook it."

"My apologies, my lord."

"It's excusable," Joon closed his eyes. "Now, how this works is that you close your eyes, breath in and out until you are calm, and release your worldly inhibitions."

"May I ask for what purpose?"

"The world sometimes clouds us from our selves rooted in the spiritual, the one that matters more than who we are to others. To reach a certain level of attainment, we must empty ourselves of the world's limits and thinking and seek what is inside of us ourselves."

"But why now?" Jon asked.

Joon looked to Jon. "Because I think that it's time you become familiar with the other side of the empire's customs and you have much on your mind everyday, so this might do you some good."

Jon exhaled before closing his eyes and taking several breaths. Meanwhile, Joon peaked at Jon to see the effects of the incense entering his nostrils. Hopefully, this works.

Immediately, Jon's breath became shaky and his hands trembled. He was struggling to keep upright as the effects of the incense became stronger than Joon anticipated. Maybe he's not used to the higher concentration.

Suddenly, Jon's eyes rolled back into his head while he fell backwards on the floor. As Joon rushed to his side, Jon felt his mind enter an empty space before it turned into what looked like a tent.

Jon felt himself enter this tent, but instantly felt heaviness inside of it. Looking around, he saw a large man lying on some furs, but his eyes were unseeing and no breaths escaped his lips. Jon blinked before he heard someone crying, turning to see a woman with her head on her knees and in pain. Looking back to the man, he noticed a pillow next to him.

Jon walked closer to the woman, noticing that she had silver hair but was largely disheveled. He wanted to say things to comfort her, as he could tell that the man who was dead meant something to her.

Unexpectedly, the woman stopped crying and lifted her head off of her knees. With tears still on her eyes, she looked up as if she could see that there was another person in the tent staring down at her.

Jon gulped, seeing her violet amethysts. Between that, her silver hair, and the man Jon now recognized as a Dothraki chief, he could only conclude that this was Daenerys Targaryen, his aunt. At long last, I finally see you.

Jon couldn't help but notice how beautiful she still looked despite looking like a mess, but then again, Valyrians were inhumanly beautiful. But Jon's first concern was how he might act right now, both because he could see his aunt and how he could help her in her emotional state.

"Who are you?" That surprised Jon, as Daenerys slowly stood up and looked at Jon straight in his grey eyes.

"Can you see me?" Jon asked with shock.

Daenerys nodded. "Now I ask again. Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"Um," Jon scratched his head, not knowing how to say his first words to his aunt Daenerys. "I am Jon. Jon Snow," Jon kept to his assumed identity.

"How are you here, Jon Snow?" Daenerys walked around him while he kept his eyes on hers.

"It's complicated," Jon answered simply.

"Please don't say that. My life has already been filled with enough complications already," Daenerys wiped her eyes before rubbing her belly.

"I assume that is your Dothraki husband?" Jon pointed to the dead man.

Daenerys nodded, but looked ready to cry again. Jon wanted to wipe the tears from her eyes, but decided against it. "My sun and stars, Drogo. And the father of my child, the child that I will never see grow up."

Jon's eyes widened. "I am so sorry."

"What's it to you?" Daenerys bitterly spat.

Before Jon could answer, they both heard loud roars outside of the tent. Exchanging glances with each other, they went outside to find nothing. Looking upon, Jon collapsed to the ground when he saw four large shapes descending upon the earth. Blinking, Jon was stunned to look upon creatures long thought dead to the world: dragons.

There was not just one, but there were four of them. Four dragons? One was black and the largest, the other white as cream, one green, and one red. The last one caught Jon's eye, as that red resembled the red on the dragon egg Aemon gifted to him.

Standing back up, Jon steeled himself when the dragons roared at him before the green and red dragons moved closer to him. Overcoming his initial fear, Jon began to appreciate… the beauty of these long-lost creatures. Taking several moments and several small paces towards them, he ran his hand slowly on both of their snouts. Jon smiled and laughed after seeing how they basked in his attention.

Turning around, Jon looked to see Daenerys confused. "In my previous vision, I only saw a black dragon and then two others just like the white one and the green one. Those are the colors of my dragon eggs, but I never saw a red one before now even though I don't have a red egg."

Jon didn't know how to answer that. Daenerys took a step closer to Jon. "Who are you, really?"

Before Jon could answer, he felt the tent disappearing into the nothingness and the dragons with it. Not wanting for his aunt to go without an answer, Jon managed to say, "I am the blood of the dragon."

Jon felt his eyes open and he was back inside the sanctum. Sitting back up, Jon saw Lord Joon eyeing him with astonishment.

"What was that, about you having the blood of the dragon?" Joon asked, stunned.

Jon knew that there was no avoiding that question, now that Lord Joon had an important piece of the puzzle. "Is that why you had me inhale that? To get answers from me?"

"I knew something was up when your hand wasn't severely burnt," Joon replied. "I believe you have some explaining to do."

Jon sighed, fighting the urge to curse himself for such carelessness. "Yes, I believe I do."


Elsewhere, Daenerys woke from that vision he had and was stunned when that comely man with raven hair and grey eyes said, "I am the blood of the dragon."

Daenerys thought that her grief must've been talking, but considering what she had seen with the maegi and the fact that she had seen visions of her dragons out of their eggs before, she wiped away her tears and stood back up. For the first time since she had to kill her sun and stars and seeing the deformed shape of her child, she felt hope run through her.

There is another. I'm not alone, Daenerys thought confidently.

A/N: Didn't expect that ending, didn't you? ;)

Joon deciding to take matters into his own hands and essentially cause Jon's reaction was necessary and I hope I showed the effects of a trip induced with incense. And now, we finally have Jon and Dany meeting, although Dany still doesn't know who Jon is despite knowing that they're related. I hope that wasn't too sudden and too abrupt and I hope I touched on the eastern spiritual traditions well.

And Sam is now dealing with his own problems. He better toughen up.

Next, we see Joon getting more answers from Jon and taking him on an actual trip.