Here's number 86! we only have several more chapters before this is finished! Woo! Big thanks to MSquared79 for all her help. She is an amazing beta and none of this would be as good without her help.

Announcement! After a few reviews about the beginning being so unoriginal and me rereading it and agreeing with them, I have decided not to rewrite the story, just the chapters themselves. Scenes will be adjusted to be different but get the same point across and it won't be as copy and paste as it is. I think the work on them will be done by the chapter after the next chapter.

Don't forget to leave a review and enjoy!


Jon

Jon had only seen the Harrenhal once before when he was returning from the armistice to Winterfell on the back of Rhaegal. They didn't go near the castle, but even as far as they were Harrenhal was enormous. It paled structurally compared to the Wall but there was a similar presence both had. And given that it was half melted stone, the original structure must have been a sight to behold and envied.

When the armies were miles away, Harrenhal sat on the horizon and looked like five large candles without flame and hardened wax drizzling down the side. It was an ugly structure, but still mighty all the same and acted as both home and tomb for the dozen of Houses that flew their banners over its walls after Harren the Black and his line were wiped out.

There were still remains of bodies littering the ground within and without the castle. A dozen heads mounted on spikes were nothing but cold skulls which were gathered and buried, giving the remains of the dead some peace at least. Withering Banners of Houses Lannister and Bolton were found in places they were left and forgotten, but it meant little since they were put to use as fuel for fire.

The armies made camp surrounding the entirety of the castle, but the Unsullied were the only ones along with half a dozen men of each realm that were stationed within Harrenhal itself. The giants however preferred privacy and took to the woods nearby with their mammoths. They were intrigued greatly by the land.

They would only be at the castle for a few days before they would continue on. But they meant to delay their progress. After what Bran had said about Arya and the others, they needed to stop and be cautious to the eyes that were watching. But it was all part of a plan to capture one of Cersei's scouting parties. Bran could see everything whenever he wanted to, but he didn't know what he was meant to look for when he did.

Tonight, the leaders of the main factions of the Targaryen Army would meet in the Kingspire tower with their king. The war room was too small for a hundred lords, so it would be simplified greatly.

Jon stood at the head of a large table covered with a large map of King's Landing and the surrounding lands. There were small map pieces to mark the many forces that made up the army, but to avoid needing a piece for every House and sigil there were only heads of dragons, direwolves, horses, and Unsullied helms that represented all sworn and fighting for House Targaryen, not including the Iron Fleet commanded by Yara and Theon. Representing Cersei's forces were Lion heads for those who were foolishly still loyal to her and skulls for the sellsword companies. There were more skulls than lions, far more.

In the war room with Jon to discuss the battle plans were Bran, Ser Davos, Tyrion, Ser Bronn, Lord Royce, and Sam. Bran was seated closest to where the city walls were, pointing out all the defenses and traps that he could see in his visions or patrols with his flock of ravens. Ghost lay in the corner of the room, resting and waiting for his master, while Ser Will waited outside the room for his king.

He moved a finger to the western side of the city, pointing at the fields outside the gates. "Cersei's placed hidden spike pits all across the field. I can see every one of them but it won't matter to everyone who will be charging straight to them." he traced his fingers done a line to the side of where he pointed. "But there are also several paths free of spikes here, here, here, and here. They're wide enough that ten men could ride side by side." He pointed out two that led to the center of where Cersei's army would be and two that went off to the side. "But the center is clear for a large force. They plan to attack with a spearhead formation of the Long Lances and follow with their war elephants."

"We won't make a dent in her defense with only attacks of ten men at the front." Lord Royce said. "We'll need to find a way to force them out of the little nest."

"I'd imagine Dragonfire would do just that." Said Bronn. "Only trouble is, Cersei's got scorpions on the walls and the roofs in the city."

"Fifty-three, to be exact," Bran said.

"And If a dragon can be brought down with just one on the field, fifty-three will do just that and keep the beasts dead."

"Then we'll have to use our own ordinance to take out as many of them as we can." Jon decided.

"What ordnance?" Bronn asked.

"The giants. I've seen them shoot men on the top of the Wall from the bottom. If we can get them in a position that gives them a good view…"

"Here," Sam pointed out an area on the map. "I've been to King's Landing before and there's a trail leading to a collection of trees. It comes above the level of the city. The distance should be the same."

"It's about a hundred feet farther," Bran said,

Jon ordered. "Will this place be in the range of Cersei's catapults?"

"Aye. So we'll need to take their attention elsewhere."

"The Dothraki will take the van against Cersei. We'll have the mammoth riders joined them and punch a hole for our forces to spill in. I'll lead the dragons to where that isn't and set fire to as many as I can. During that, we'll have the Westerosi cavalry split into two forces and attack at both flanks. We'll trap them with nowhere to escape." Jon moved a direwolf piece to each of the flanks of the lions. Then, he pulled four lions from the front forward to meet seven horses up front.

"They'll have the city behind them." Ser Davos reminded. "If they get trapped, they only have to retreat into the gates and close them. We don't have the means to break into the city."

"I don't think there's a door or wall in the world that can withstand Dragonfire. This castle should be proof enough." Lord Royce said.

"While the wildfire lingeries beneath the city, I think we can't risk getting the dragons near. We'll tear them down with the mammoths. No gate can withstand them." Jon looked outside and could see that it was pitch black. "We'll continue this in the morning before we leave. Get some rest." Everyone but Tyrion, Bronn, and Ser Davos left. While there was still much about the battle to prepare for, there were still other things that had to be discussed.

Jon didn't lift his gaze from the map though. He couldn't take his mind off the battle. He had fought in only four in his life. At the Wall against the Wildings, the Battle of the Bastards, the Ocean of Fire, and the War for the Dawn. Every time the odds were against them.

"A wise man once said 'A troubled man containing his thoughts ought best to be speaking them, or he might go mad.'" Tyrion quipped.

"'A wise man', Lord Tyrion, or yourself'?" came the question from Davos but in a light tone.

"Can they not be both?" Tyrion asked back.

"For you? No." Bronn said. "A wise man would've paid me after I did my job. You still haven't, unless this my castle now."

"You want this one? It's been cursed since the time of the Conqueror. No, no, I have a better idea," Tyrion replied. "Castamere will be yours for joining our ranks and all the silver and gold beneath it for commanding our forces. That's far more income than this place will bring with you as its owner. When the war is over and you've fulfilled your duties promised."

Jon had a feeling they might soon get wrapped up in their witty repartee, so he brought their attention to the map with his. "There are more than twice as many tokens on the map for us than there are for Cersei. When you look at it plainly, we have the victory. But she has had months to prepare when we have had weeks and weapons we don't."

Ser Davos stood to Jon's right. "It's nearly an even field."

Tyrion said, "When it comes to the battle, I'm certain that victory will ours."

"Aye, but at the cost of how many?" Jon asked. "The War with the Night King was all that mattered because it was an ultimatum. Fight to live or die trying. This is just a fight for power."

"Wars have never been clean of blood." Ser Davos informed. "That's the hard truth of it. Best we can do is make sure there's a damn good reason to have it spilled in the first place."

"I think overthrowing a mad woman on the Iron Throne is more than enough," Bronn replied. "If you want the war over, just take a dragon in the night and burn the damn place. It's dishonorable, but it keeps you alive."

"Bronn," Tyrion glared at him, "leave."

Bronn shrugged and left without another word which was nice to not hear.

Tyrion turned his focus back to the subject at hand. "Cersei may call herself queen, but the only thing she rules over is a single city and a few foolish Houses."

"I still think you shouldn't let them leave," Davos said. "We could've kept their leaders as hostages until it was over."

"I gave them the choice of mercy or justice." Jon reminded. "If they wish to still serve Cersei, then that's theirs to make."

There was a still silence between the three of them at the mention of the wildfire. "The battle will be ours, there's no doubt," Tyrion said. "But the real one will be stopping Cersei from lighting the wildfire."

Jon shook his head. "I believe in the others. They'll make in time."

"So do I, but will they kill my sister in time? With everything so laid out before us, it's hard to accept that the city may be lost and the people with it."

"We won't lose it."

"I have enough faith to think we won't. But we must prepare for the possibility that we might and that the people will die. It's a cruel move for Cersei, but she will not hesitate to do it. If King's Landing falls, we will fail."

Ser Davos interjected. "If the people die, then we fail. King's Landing is just a city. Maybe we could think of a way to get the people out before it's too late for them."

"Perhaps," Tyrion said, "but get them out how and where will they go? You're a good smuggler, but even you can't think of a way to get half a million people out there without being noticed."

"No, I can't. But we can get as many out as we can."

"Aye." Jon agreed. "We can do so much and at the same time so little. So we do what we can."

"But the question remains of how." Tyrion pointed out.

"I'm still working on that. No matter what we do, Qyburn's little birds might hear of it and tell him. Maybe if we sent ravens, people might be more silent about it. We have just the person who can do it."

"Let's send one to Cersei as well," Jon said. "We'll request a parley with her the day before the battle and give her something else to look at while the people escape."

"I don't think she'll accept." Tyrion guessed.

"She will. She knows I won't have her killed the moment she steps foot into our territory." And Jon wanted to see her once more to get the measure of her. She was imposing at the Dragonpit but after what he's heard of her recently she is less than a fool and greater than madness. "It's late, will talk more of this before we leave tomorrow."

"Hopefully we'll have more ideas by then," Tyrion commented. "Sleep well, your grace." He and Davos bowed before excusing themselves.

"Ghost, to me." Ghost immediately followed after Jon when the left the room and they were joined by Ser Will.

Jon was tired but didn't feel the rush to sleep. He wanted to have some time to himself.

Looking at Harrenhal up close made Jon think about King's Landing. What would it look like if the city was engulfed in the wildfire that lay beneath it? Would it be charred, melted, or turned into nothing but smoke and ash? Whatever the answer, there would be nothing left but a giant scar on the land to be haunted by the hundreds of thousands that would perish in the devastation.

Jon took to his own company, save for his escort of Ser Will Cole and Ghost. It was actually Ser Lonnel's shift, but at his request had taken to practice his fighting with Ser Jorah. As a crannogman of the swamplands, he was a skilled fighter but as a knight, he had much to learn. He had taken to learning how to use a shortsword effectively before switching to a broadsword.

Jon was at a part of the castle that wasn't crowded by men. It was a balcony overlooking the Godswood and God's Eye. He found this place in the afternoon when they first arrived days ago. When there was light, he could just barely see the Isle of Faces.

Being at Harrenhal felt strange to Jon. He had not seen the ghosts that were said to haunt the castle except his direwolf, but there was a presence here that reminded him of the crypts of Winterfell. Not only that but knowing that this place is where everything that threw the world into chaos began adding to the feeling. This is where his mother and father met for the first time. This is where they first fell in love. Thinking about it started to make him curious.

"Ser Will." Jon turned to face his Kingsguard.

"Yes, your Grace?" He stood half a foot taller than Jon and didn't wear his helmet tonight. His face was gruntish, but that may have been because of the black leather eyepatch he wore over his left eye.

"You fought for House Targaryen in Robert's Rebellion, didn't you?"

"I did. I fought in several battles in fact. I fought Summerhall, Ashford, and the Trident. After the Prince had fallen, I chose exile with many others."

"And did you ever fight with Rhaegar?"

"If you mean if I fought next to him, then no. I hardly knew the Prince. The only things I ever knew were things I heard and what I saw at tourneys I jousted in." Ser Will walked over to the railing of the balcony and leaned back on it. "From what I heard, Rhaegar was a great fighter, loved by every woman and sometimes snuck out of his castle to play his harp to the common folk of King's Landing. If you knew him well, you were more likely to find him in a library than a training yard."

"What about the times you saw of him?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. At tourneys, he fought in less melees than he did jousts."

"Fewer." Jon corrected.

"What?"

"Nothing. You were saying?"

"I came close to facing Prince Rhaegar once at a Tourney at Storm's End. But Jason Mallister had a truer aim than I did. Knocked me off my horse and onto my arse." Ser Will started to laugh at the memory. "I would've been part of the Tourney here had I not had to deal with some poachers on my family's land with my brother. After that, nothing until the Rebellion made me venture from home."

What Ser Will knew of Rhaegar was most of what anyone his age would know. Jon hadn't expected him to know Rhaegar personally. In fact, hearing things about Rhaegar from someone who hardly knew him was intriguing. The only thing was, there wasn't much to be heard from Ser Will.

"And what did you think about him when you heard the rumors of what he did to Lyanna Stark."

Ser Will eyed Jon curiously. "Do I need to worry what my answer will be?"

"No. Knowing the truth relieves much of what we all thought we knew to me. You may speak freely."

"In truth, I felt sorry for the man before the disgust. Whatever kind of man who has everything and anything he could want to kidnap and rape a woman truly has nothing. I heard about Princess Elia's frailty, but even so for a man to be driven to do that obviously isn't satisfied with his life. But then the ravens flew and came calling me to arms. I almost joined the rebels, but I swore an oath to answer to my king, not a usurper."

"And what about when you heard of the truth?"

"Same answer, but without the disgust. Only the pity."

Jon wasn't hurt by that. He almost felt the same way. Until the day he was told the truth about himself, he had resentment towards Rhaegar and sorrow for Lyanna. When he was told, he thought his feelings would change but they didn't. He felt a longing to meet them so his feelings might change. How was he supposed to love a man and a woman he never met?

"Thank you for honest, Ser Will. I'd like some time to myself for the rest of the evening."

"Yes, your grace. I trust your wolf is protection enough?"

Jon smirked at the knight. "The best I've ever had."

"Hmm, then I have some expectations to exceed in my service." Ser Will took his leave, leaving Jon alone with Ghost.

It was quiet. No sounds except the winds whistling quietly through branches of trees in the Godswood. Everything was so still. It was the first time the castle actually felt haunted.

The silence was broken by a lone raven cawing out as it perched itself on the stone railing. It looked directly at Jon and cawed out again.

"Bran, is that you?"

The raven flew off, down into the godswood.

'I'll take that as a yes. Ghost, to me." He followed the raven to the weirwood tree, unsurprised at seeing his brother beneath it. His eyes were white, as they were when he was caught in a vision. Jon waited patiently, but Ghost was having none of it after a few minutes. He went over and licked Bran's hand.

That seemed to bring his brother back to the present. "It's a sight to behold, isn't it?" Bran turned his gaze to the Kingspyre Tower. Even half melted it stood above the rest. "This is where your parents met, you know."

"I know." Jon nodded. "I just don't know how they did. What we all thought we knew was so muddled and away from the truth." Every written record about what happened here was based on things unknown that led to a lie.

"You want me to tell you what happened?"

Jon was unsure of how to answer. "Yes, but at the same time, I'd rather not hear it from you. I don't mean it to be rude, but I might become envious of you to the point of hating you for being able to see what I can't but desperately want to."

Bran showed a smile surprisingly. "I understand. So would like me to show you instead?"

"What?" Jon nearly laughed when Bran asked. "I'm not like you or Rickon, Bran. Warging is all I can do. I can't look into the past like you can."

Bran looked up at the night sky, still smiling. "We may not have the same father, but we share the same blood. Our House is strong with the magic of the Old Gods. You can't do it by yourself, but I can help you. I just need something to help me first. Or rather someone."

"Someone? Who are you talking about?" Jon was deeply interested now. If Bran could actually do this, then he would be able to finally see his mother.

Bran's eyes turned pure white and his expression became blank. Moments later, the sound of wings cutting through wind became clear and Lyarras swooped down into a clearing. She crawled past the trees to the weirwood, to Bran and Jon.

Bran returned to himself when Lyarras brought her head to him. "Did you know that dragons are the greatest sources of magic? Not just breathing fire and living for centuries, but filling people with wonder and awe unlike anything in the world. And at the same time, terror and hopelessness." He placed his hand on Lyarras's nuzzle and pet her softly before holding his free hand to Jon. "What would you like to see first?"

Jon had no idea what he wanted to see. He never thought that this kind of chance would be given to him. "The first time my mother and father met." Jon reached out his hand and took Bran's. The moment he did, everything seemed to feel strange and he was pulled into a forest. It was no longer night but day, and summer instead of winter.

Bran walked past Jon which was surprising to see. "This way," Bran said.

Jon followed after Bran and walked with him through the trees. The ground was grassless and filled with many plants growing into the spring season. The trees were just starting to show their leaves.

"Where are we?" Jon asked.

"A few miles west of Harrenhal. Look over there." Bran pointed to a small rise in the land and immediately a rider in full plate armor appeared. He carried a lance and a shield with a weirwood painted on it. But unlike most weirwoods that had a sad face, the shield sported a smiling weirwood, or rather a laughing one. "I give you the Knight of the Laughing Tree."

Jon knew the story of this knight. He appeared at the Tourney of Harrenhal and unhorsed three men from House Frey, House Haigh, and House Blount, respectively. The Mad King thought the mystery knight was an assassin and ordered his head to be brought, but the knight disappeared with no trace except for his shield.

"And the challenger, the Crowned Prince Rhaegar Targaryen." After Bran said that, a rider in black and red armor decorated with dragons rode from the same direction the knight of the Laughing Tree had come.

Jon was speechless when Rhaegar removed his helm and stared down the mystery knight. "You can unhorse knights easy enough. What about someone who knows what they're doing?"

The mystery knight held his lance aloft and readied himself to charge. Rhaegar put his helmet back on and prepared just the same. With no signal, the two knights charged for the other, each of them lifting their lance for the strike.

Jon noticed that Rhaegar's lance was significantly short than the mystery knight's was. It was war lance, not a tourney lance. It wouldn't shatter as easy and packed a heavy blow when struck. But it was four feet shorter. If Rhaegar was going to make this work, he going to take a direct hit and hope he wouldn't be knocked off his horse.

The Mystery knight's lance struck square on Rhaegar's shield, forcing his body to turn but he was able to keep his aim true and his lance struck the mystery knight's shield and grazed to his chest. The force knocked both Rhaegar and the knight off of their horses and to the ground.

The horses galloped away without their riders. Both Rhaegar and the mystery groaned as they tried to get to their feet.

Rhaegar drew his sword when he got up and pointed it at the mystery knight. "Yield now, and I will show you mercy. I wouldn't want to kill a man as challenging as you.

What no one realized until now was that the mystery knight's helmets had twisted and gotten stuck, leaving him half blind. He tried to turn it back into place, but the damn thing wouldn't budge.

Jon enjoyed what he was witnessing, but irritated that it was not what he asked for. He faced his brother. "Bran, I asked you to take me-"

"Look." Bran interrupted.

Jon looked back at Rhaegar and saw that he sheathed his sword and was attempting to help the mystery knight.

"Hold still!" Rhaegar demanded.

"No! Don't!" A muffled voice sounded.

"I've almost got it!" Rhaegar pulled with all his strength and the helmet finally came loose and off the Mystery Knight's head. What shocked him and Jon was when a mess of long black hair flowed out of the helmet. Hair that was attached to a woman.

She back away from Rhaegar and held her shield in front of her face, but it was too late.

"You're Lyanna Stark," Rhaegar said with half a smile.

Jon froze in place when the mystery knight lowered her shield and revealed the face of his mother. She had the same eyes as he did and the same kind of hair. And the way they both looked each other was the way Jon looked when he was brooding. Now he knew who he inherited that trait from.

He wanted to say something but realized there was no point. She wouldn't be able to his words.

Rhaegar started laughing uncontrollably. He laughed so hard he fell to his knees.

"So I'm a woman." Lyanna hissed. "What's so funny about that?"

"Nothing," Rhaegar told her, "I'm laughing from amazement that someone like you could best me. Not even knights with three times the victories as me have been able to knock me down."

"It's because you weren't riding right. You sit on your horse like it's a chamberpot. I only fell because I wasn't prepared for that lance." She stared him down with a fierceness just like Lyanna Mormont.

There was a brief silence between them. Rhaegar couldn't stop looking at her in amazement. "You are marvelous, Lady Lyanna. But my father wants your head."

"You can come and try to take it, but you won't have the remains of one when I'm done with you."

"And a direwolf too," Rhaegar stated. "You're an incredible rider, but I can already tell you're not a good fighter. You won't last a minute against me."

Lyanna looked nervous as she tried to keep her resolve.

"But it's such a shame I couldn't the Mystery Knight. Only the shield he carried."

Lyanna's became surprised and her fierce mask broke. "What?"

"The shield you found, didn't you know it belongs to mystery knight?" Rhaegar arched his brow at Lyanna, waiting for her to catch on.

"You're letting me go?"

"How can I let you go? I never caught you. You were at Harrenhal during the entire search." He stepped closer, but Lyanna kept her guard up.

"You're trying to trick me."

"Not at all. You could call it admiration."

"Pardon, your grace?"

"For your skill, bravery, and valor. Only a few have been able to unhorse me and the way you defended that man's honor...if you weren't wanted by my father I would see that you were knighted. You possess the true qualities of a knight." Rhaegar stepped closer to he until he was only an arm's reach away. They both spent a moment just looking at each other, but more in the sense of their characters than their features.

"Do you promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I swear on my life and honor as a prince. I only wish I could reward you somehow."

"Don't tell anyone, that's how."

He calmly took the shield from her without resistance. "Best get back before I do."

Jon and Bran were taken to the tourney grounds of Harrenhal. The morning had turned into afternoon and hundreds of people have gathered all around, cheering loudly. And sitting high above them all in a booth of stone was the Mad King himself.

The sudden sounds of galloping hooves made Jon turn around and he saw a horse charging straight for him. He jumped out of the way while Bran remained unfazed. The horse passed through him and he looked amused at Jon.

"Oh, right." Jon got back to his feet and looked to the horse. The rider atop was in golden armor and just broke his lance against Rhaegar's shield.

"Come, there's a spot over there we can watch." Bran led Jon to where they both had a clear view. Both Rhaegar and his opponent prepared for their next tilt and charged for one another. "It's the final tilt between Rhaegar and Ser Barristan."

When the jousters were in range of the riders, Rhaegar's struck true and he unhorsed Ser Barristan.

A crier appeared on the field and praised the winner for all to hear. "Hail the champion, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen!" Everyone watching applauded and cheered loudly for their gallant prince as he removed his helm. "Now the time has come to crown your queen of love and beauty!" A servant came out and placed a crown of winter roses on the end of Rhaegar's lance.

Rhaegar looked over to where his wife Elia sat and she looked absolutely happy that he won. But as he rode his horse over, he passed her without a second glance. Everyone fell silent when Rhaegar placed the crown before Lyanna.

"Er… the queen of love and beauty, Lyanna of House Stark!" The crier attempted to regain the energy of the audience but very few applauded and cheered. No one was smiling at what just happened. No one except Rhaegar.

The world vanished all around into what could be called a sea of mist that reformed into a hillside near a river. Drinking from the waters was a horse and standing next to it was Lyanna with the hood of her cloak draped over her head.

"Where are we now?" Jon asked.

"A day's ride north of Riverrun," Bran told him. He pointed out to a group of three riders coming from the south.

Lyanna noticed them approaching and pulled down her hood. She looked relieved and at the same time afraid.

The leader of the riders, Rhaegar, dismounted as soon as he could and ran to Lyanna. The moment they met, he kissed her deeply and so did she to him. When they finally parted lips for breath, Rhaegar spoke to her. "Did you tell them?"

"I… I couldn't bring myself to. So I left a letter for Brandon. He should have found it by now. I just hope they can forgive me."

"If your father is the opposite of your brother like you said, then I'm sure he will. I've made the arrangements for us. There's a small tower in Dorne that no one uses. Until everything is ready, we can stay there."

Lyanna sighed in relief before her gaze went to the two Kingsguard still astride their horses.

"Lyanna, forgive my manners. May I introduce the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Gerold Hightower and the Sword of the Morning Ser Arthur Dayne.

"My lady," Ser Gerold greeted.

"Rhaegar, they're sworn to king, not you."

"Yes. But to me, they are my brothers. And I know they would never betray me."

"We are sworn to protect the crown prince," Ser Arthur said. "We are not to judge him." He shrugged his shoulders at her. "But I support my friend in his choice."

Rhaegar smiled at him before turning back to Lyanna. "Come, there's a ship waiting to take us to Starfall."

Lyanna nodded before mounting her horse and waiting for Rhaegar.

"That's enough for tonight, Jon." Bran placed his hand on his shoulder, but Jon shrugged him away and chased after the horses.

"Mother!" Jon called out. He didn't mean to, he just did it.

Lyanna halted her horse and turned her gaze behind her.

Jon froze in place when he thought she heard him, but not once did she ever meet his eyes.

Rhaegar and the others turned to her. "Is something wrong, Lyanna?" Rhaegar asked.

"I just have a feeling...I might not see my home ever again."

"You will," Rhaegar assured her. "When all of this is over, you will see your home again."

Jon and Bran returned to themselves. Lyarras backed away from them as they both caught their breath.

Jon had never felt such a fatigue weigh on him before. Warging took its toll but this was something else. It made him feel like the moments he experienced just before dying. It was horrifying and at the same time exhilarating which made it dangerous.

But that last moment he witnessed, he felt his heart break. He thought she heard him, but it perhaps was only a coincidence.

Jon turned to Bran who had already recovered. "Wait, not yet."

"That's enough, Jon. Believe me, when I was first using this power, all I wanted was to stay in the memories of those time, but that's all they are."

"Bran, please."

"It is beautiful beneath the ocean, but if you stay too long, you'll drown. I have seen greenseers of old waste their lives trapping themselves in the sight."

"I understand. Really, I do. It's just a memory no matter how much I want to be real before me. After tonight, I never want you to take me with you ever again. But I just need to see one last thing, please."

Bran sighed and eyed Jon silently. "I wish I had your fortitude and resilience to the ignorance the sight can bring back when I first learned how to use it. Summer, Hodor, Leaf, they all would still be alive if I hadn't given in to my temptation." He stretched out his arm to Jon. "One more and then no more."

"Aye." Jon took Bran's hand.

"Where do you want to see."

Jon had to fight to get the words out of his mouth. "The day my mother died."

Bran hesitated, but he nodded in acceptance to Jon's request. His eyes flashed white and soon after Jon felt himself being pulled back into the sight with Bran. The were hallway outside of a room. The sounds of quiet voices barely echoed to them.

Jon looked to Bran. "Could you wait here?"

"Aye. I already know what's in there." Bran stepped back to give him more space before Jon proceeded into the room.

When Jon entered he beheld a sword stained with blood leaning against the bed his mother was in. Next to her was his father, Ned, receiving a baby wrapped in a blanket.

"Promise me, Ned," Lyanna's body was covered in much blood, enough that she would not be able to recover. Her skin was pale as snow and her eyes barely open.

Jon walked over to the bedside opposite of himself and his father, knelt down to his mother and watched her. He reached out to her hand, trying to take it in his own, but felt nothing as his fingers rested in hers. It tormented him, but he had to be here for her when she passed.

"Promise me." Lyanna whispered.

Jon gazed upon his mother with much sorrow because he was only a shadow in this memory. "I never met you truly," Jon spoke to ears that could not hear his voice. "I didn't even know you were my mother until a year ago. I know Ned didn't tell me to protect me, and I forgive him for that. I just wish you could hear me say… I love you, mother."

Jon felt a sensation lightly squeeze his hand. He looked at it and saw his mother's fingers lightly hold his. He looked at her face and saw her eyes close as the last of her life slip out of her.

Jon returned to himself again, but this time didn't feel the fatigue. Instead, all he felt was the sting of the salt from tears. He wiped his eyes clean and looked at his brother.

"Jon, she-"

"Thank you, Bran, for showing me this. I'm going to bed now. You should too." Jon could tell that Bran knew what he felt, but would rather not know the truth of if his mother really did take his hand or not. Maybe it was just a movement of her body before death. But knowing that he felt something and maybe she did too was enough for him.

Bran was going to say something but held back. "Aye, we should."


Next chapter shall be uploaded next week! See you then!