(Jon)
Jon had heard stories from his Uncle Benjen but words could not fully express just how awe inspiring it was to see the Wall for the first time. Stretching three miles across and over seven hundred feet high the colossal structure was a marvel to behold and the fact that it was made entirely out of ice was almost impossible to believe if it wasn't standing right in front of him. He'd actually seen it from a distance but as the small silhouette of white grew every larger as they drew closer it fully set in that this would be where he would spend his days after finding the truth of his mother.
"Let's go boy." Almost there. Jon said. He and Ghost had been traveling for a few days and he would be happy to finally see his uncle and have some warmer food. Though he'd be lying if he stated that there wasn't something freeing about sleeping under the stars away from any stern glares or muttered insults.
They came to the gates of Castle Black and were heralded by a man in black clothes from on high.
"Who goes there?" The man asked.
"Jon Snow. I am here to speak to my Uncle Benjen Stark." Jon responded back. He waited for a minute before the gate was opened and he and Ghost moved through the gates. Jon would be lying if he said he wasn't excited to see Castle Black and the men of the Night's Watch. He took his horse to the stable and smiled as he was greeted by his Uncle Benjen who held a surprised but happy look on his face.
"Jon! By the Gods what are you doing here lad?" Benjen asked as he embraced his nephew. Jon returned it happily, he loved his uncle and was like the other Stark children was always happy when he visited to bring them stories and gifts.
"I wanted to see you Uncle and talk if that's ok." Jon said. Eh noticed many of the Night's Watch were staring at him and Ghost with suspicion, fear, and curiosity.
"Aye lad they would be fine." Benjen said as he turned to take Jon somewhere private before being interrupted.
"So, this is the bastard."
Jon turned and saw a slim man that looked older than his father with black hair and hard black eyes. It was his eyes that put Jon on edge. He'd seen them pointed at him for years. Eyes that held bitterness, anger, frustration and a lot of rage.
"This is my nephew Jon Snow, Ser Alliser." Benjen said coldly. Jon had rarely heard his uncle take such a tone and was put on the defensive. Ghost barred his teeth silently and Ser Alliser paused at the threat.
"Aye he's the bastard as I said. Why does he have a dangerous animal walking around the castle? That mutt should be in the kennel." Alliser said, looking at Ghost.
"He's well behaved and has superb manners." Jon said as he eyed the man, feeling his ire rising and leaving the subtle jab at Alliser's lack of manner understood but unspoken.
"A beast trained by a bastard. I can only imagine the grief you have given the honorable Eddard Stark. Tell me boy, what did you do to get your father to kick you out of that comfortable castle and sent up her to freeze so soon? He didn't even send a raven to Benjen from the looks of it. Mayhaps he was finally tired of having his bastard sully his home." Alliser said nastily. Benjen looked ready to hit the older man but Jon reacted first. He moved to stand in front of the black clad man and even though he felt his blood set aflame at the insults he kept his head and words as cold as ice.
"It appears you have a problem with me ser. I would think a member of the Night's Watch would disregard one's parentage and upbringing and instead welcome a future brother." Jon commented. He refused to let the man get a rise out of him by calling him bastard. It was a word that always angered Jon until he realized he was giving others power over him if he reacted every time t was uttered. He instead chose to wear the slight in silent frustration. Never allowing anyone else to use it against him and play him like a puppet.
"Aye he has the right of it. Back off Thorne." A gruff voice said.
All in the yard turned and looked at the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch Jeor Mormont. Jon had heard tales of the old bear from his uncle. The former Lord of Bear Island was still an imposing figure despite his old age. On his shoulder was a black raven that seemed to be staring directly at Jon.
"I was simply testing the mettle of our future brother, Lord Commander." Thorne said, his response earning a snort of disbelief from Mormont and Benjen. The older man walked off with another sour look on his face that Jon imagined was how he looked most of the time.
"My thanks Lord Mormont. Jon came to speak to me about his future with the Watch." Benjen explained.
"No harm done Benjen. Your nephew definitely has some wolf in him to match his pet." Jeor said with a chuckle as he went back inside.
"Come Jon. Let's talk." Benjen said as he led him to the kitchens to get something to eat. Jon was grateful for the warm food and they'd found a large mutton bone for Ghost to chew on. Jon knew he'd have to let Ghost run free soon to find more substantial game.
"I'm surprised to see you so soon Jon. I'd thought you were waiting for me to visit Winterfell in a few months and come back with me then. You didn't even send a raven." Benjen said happily but also a little suspiciously. He knew his nephew to be a smart lad and one that thought things through before making a move. He was curious as to the sudden appearance.
"Aye that was the plan before, but circumstances changed recently." Jon said vaguely. It was time to tell his uncle his plans and he was a bit nervous. What if Benjen strongly disagreed and forbade Jon to leave or worse sent a raven to his father?
"Tell me what happened." Benjen said with a serious look on his face.
"I had an argument with my father about the identity of my mother." Jon said briefly. Benjen's face froze for a moment without comment before he seemed to regain his composure.
"What did Ned tell you?" Benjen said softly, his face still set in stone.
"Nothing, and that's the problem. I don't know why he is so determined to keep her away from me, but I couldn't stay anymore." Jon said looking away. The following silence stretched for a long minute before Benjen spoke.
"Jon you didn't come to join the Watch, early did you?" Benjen stated more than asked.
"….No Uncle. I did not. I still expect to become a sworn brother one day but first I must know her identity. I don't even know if she is alive or not or what the other side of my family is like. Once I say the vows, I will never be able to leave except for special occasions and I must know. Please understand." Jon all but pleaded. He needed someone older to see his reasoning. Arya was one thing, but Jon still wasn't completely sure that this was a fool's errand doomed to fail and wanted some assurance that what he was seeking was a worthy endeavor. For several seconds Benjen didn't speak, just staring at Jon's face intently.
"I understand lad. I'd probably feel the same in your shoes." Benjen said with a sigh. Jon felt a huge weight leave his shoulders and was surprised to find that he had been holding his breath. An idea sparked itself in his mind and he followed it.
"Uncle Benjen, do you know who my mother is?" Jon asked hopefully. It was possible that this quest could end right here and now. If there was anyone that his father would have told it would be his uncle. A pained look crossed Benjen's face almost too quickly for Jon to catch.
"I'm sorry lad but I don't. Ned never told me." Benjen said softly, the last part more to himself then Jon.
"Is there any clue that you can give me that would help. I don't think me wandering the country side shouting, 'mother come out' is going to get me anywhere." Jon said with a smirked, tamping down the flash of pain that his uncle Benjen couldn't tell him.
"All I can tell you Jon is that when Ned came back to Winterfell after the war, you had a wet-nurse with you named Wylla that Ned had brought from Dorne. She was sent back once you were weened. He told me that she wasn't your mother but that might be the best place to start." Benjen said.
'From Dorne? I wonder if this means Ashara Dayne really is my mother.' Jon thought to himself, happy that he had a lead.
To be a child of the Daynes would make him kin to Ser Arthur Dayne the Sword of the Morning. Generally believed to be the best swordsman in the realm at the time of his death during the war at the hands of Jon's father, though Jon had his suspicions as to the validity of the claim as Ned had always been very tight lipped as to how he bested the famed swordsman.
"Thank you, Uncle. That's more than father ever did for me." Jon said angrily.
"Don't hold too much of a grudge against Ned, Jon. He must have his reasons even if for the life of me I can't think of any good enough." Benjen said, again looking at Jon and frowning a bit. Jon said nothing to this, silently brooding a bit before shaking it off. He had a lead and a destination, and it was more then he could say a day ago.
"I'll be leaving in the morning if that's alright uncle." Jon said as he stood from the table.
"Of course, Jon. I'll keep your secret from Ned as long as I can. Once he finds out though he'll be sending people to try and find you." Benjen warned as he stood as well and placed his hand on Jon's shoulder
"Hopefully by then I'll have my answer." Jon said as he turned to leave. Benjen was silent as Jon and Ghost exited the room and fell back to his seat as a thought refused to leave his mind.
'Could it be? It's crazy to think but could he really be yours Lyanna.' Benjen wondered silently. Without absolute proof he'd never suggest such a thing to Jon. The news would be devastating to the lad and the implications as to the father even moreso. In the end it wasn't for him to say. He had a feeling that the truth, no matter what it maybe, would come out soon.
That night Jon sat on the bed in one of the recruit's rooms that Benjen and Jeor Mormont had allowed him to stay in for the night. Jon felt a lot of conflicting emotions from the day's events. After leaving his uncle Jon had walked around the castle getting the lay of the land so to speak of the place, he still believed would be his home in the future.
He was not impressed in the least.
He'd been raised on stories of how the Night's Watch was an honorable institution to join and serve. To protect the realm from wildlings and other dangers. To be a sword and shield against darkness. What he found was nothing of the sort. There were a few brothers that were shining examples of the stories he'd heard, his uncle Benjen being one. However, more often then not all he came across were peasants, murders, rapists, thieves and more that had chosen the Wall over execution or losing a hand. The Night's Watch was less a resected organization of men determined to protect the realm from the dangers beyond the Wall and more like a prison colony where the other kingdoms sent their scum to die.
'Father never told me this. Even Uncle Benjen didn't tell me this.' Jon thought frustratingly. Would he still have made up his mind to join years ago had he been told the truth? He didn't know.
It wasn't all bad though. His uncle had taken him to the top of the Wall and allowed him to gaze over the horizon. He felt exhilaration at the sight and the feeling of freedom. Should he join the Night's Watch, he knew he would be spending a lot of time at the top of the Wall.
"Time for bed boy." Jon said to Ghost. The direwolf lay beside his bed and barely looked at Jon as he relaxed. Jon closed his eyes wishing for peaceful sleep before tomorrow.
He didn't get his wish.
Jon awoke a short while later in a cold sweat gasping for breath. He could barely remember the nightmare but what he did remember chilled his blood. He'd been atop the wall overlooking the horizon when the sun was blacked out by thick dark clouds and it began to snow. The snow came so hard and fierce that he couldn't see and suddenly the wind had become a gale that swept him from the top of the Wall. He'd screamed on the way down before hearing a voice.
Fly
Jon's body was halted before it hit the ground and he flew to the far North. He couldn't describe what he saw, mostly dark and horrible shapes and creatures long thought dead. He saw giants, shadowcats, giant wolves and bears and many more. What he then saw were corpses, except they were moving. With blue eyes and decomposing bodies, they slowly walked around seemingly directionless. Jon looked down at them curiously from on high before as one they stopped and looked up at him. Jon felt his terror increase as the bodies slowly moved aside and the creatures, he'd only heard about in stories from old nan to scare children appeared. Like living ice, they almost glided across the ground.
They wore what looked like armor made of translucent ice and all had the same terrifyingly cold deep eyes. They too looked at Jon and the one he could only consider the leader due to the ice spikes growing from his head that almost resembled a crown raised a hand at Jon and the young man suddenly found himself plummeting o the ground once again. This time he didn't stop and slammed into the snow-covered earth. He surprisingly wasn't dead but dream or not he could swear that the cold was robbing him of breath like ice was forming in his lungs. The leader of the creatures slowly walked up to Jon and reached out to try and grab him. Jon found that he couldn't fight, nor could he move. He didn't know if it was possible to die in his sleep but felt he was about to find out.
Suddenly, as if by an invisible hand, Jon was yanked back into the air and out of the monster's grasp and flew to another location. He traveled over more forested areas until he came upon a giant weirwood tree. Surprisingly, he didn't stop but flew down into a hidden cave entrance under the roots. He passed through a series of twists and turns before he finally slowed and was able to stand on his own two legs. He looked around but the cave was dark, the only light being from luminescent moss on the walls. He almost missed the figure staring at him, so entwined in the roots as he was. Jon at first mistook it for a skeleton, like the many lying on the floor around him both animal and human being present.
The man was old and gaunt. His skin pale as a corpse and seemingly hanging off his bones. He had long thin white hair and one single glowing red eye. The other had a root growing through it.
"Awaken." The skeletal man stated, his one red eye glowing.
"What?" Jon had asked. Trying to make sense of the things he had seen.
"Awaken!" The figure shouted as Jon was sent hurtling through the roots and earth before everything went dark and he found himself gasping for air in his bed.
'What a dream, or more like a nightmare.' Jon thought. It couldn't have been real could it? The White Walkers, Giants and other such creatures were mere myth were they not? Jon looked down at Ghost who was staring back at him.
'Then again some think direwolves were exaggerated myth and yet here one sits looking at me.' He thought and he rose to his feet and grabbed his harp. He needed fresh air and a place to play. It would calm his nerves. Ghost rose with him and he headed out into the night after putting on his cloths. The cold air felt good on his hot body and he found himself heading to the large library his uncle had shown him earlier. Jon's fascination with books and history returned to him as he walked down rows and rows of text.
'Robb joked at times that I should have been a maester.' Jon thought with a chuckle remembering just how long he could stay in the Winterfell library and lose track of time until someone, normally Arya, found him.
His merriment didn't last long as he remembered what drove him to find solace in books in the first place and he sat at a nearby table and began to play his harp. He had no true song or melody that he was seeking to make. He simply allowed his fingers to weave their way as they chose and soon the space was filled with a solemn, almost sad tune. Jon played for a while, allowing his mind to relax before he noticed Ghost raise his head at the door. A few seconds later it opened, and an elderly man walked in using a walking stick. Jon rose to help him before the man held up a hand to stop him.
"Please don't rise on my behalf. I was curious as to whom was making such a wonderous sound." The old man said as he walked to Jon. Jon inspected the new arrival and knew he had to be almost twice as old as Jon's father. He was bald, wrinkled, shrunken and from the looks on his face blind. How a blind man had come here by himself Jon didn't know but he soon amended his thinking when the man turned his head as if looking at Ghost.
"MY name is Jon Snow my lord. Before you is my direwolf Ghost." Jon replied and he moved over and allowed the elderly man to sit.
"I am no lord Jon Snow. I am a simple maester. Maester Aemon." The man replied as he sat and surprisingly held his hand out to Ghost to sniff. The direwolf did so and relaxed, which made Jon relax. Ghost had an uncanny ability to sense danger and duplicity. If he was comfortable around the man, then Jon would trust his companion's judgement.
"Maester Aemon? You couldn't be Aemon Targaryen, could you?" Jon asked in surprise. Aemon Targaryen would be over a hundred years old by this point. Aemon's eyes widened in surprise as well.
"I am indeed. I am impressed. Few here recognize that fact. How did you know?" Aemon asked curiously.
"I enjoy reading books and studying history sir. I recognize Aemon as a typical Targaryen name, and I remembered that you came to the Watch after forging your chain and your brother Aegon the fifth ascended the throne." Jon replied, excited to meet one so old and knowledgeable.
"Many have forgotten or chosen to ignore the history of the Targaryen's after the war Jon Snow." Aemon said lowly, as if remembering a bad memory.
"History and learning are never bad things no matter what or whom they may be about. Also, Aemon the Dragon Knight was a hero of mine growing up. I won't blame an entire family for the actions of a few members." Jon said earnestly. He felt an immediate kinship with the elderly man that he couldn't explain. Perhaps it was due to him having a wealth of knowledge that Jon was not privy too.
"Wise words for one so young. Who taught you the harp?" Aemon asked Jon with strange look on his face.
"I am mostly self-taught." Jon said. His father never cared for him playing the harp though he didn't try and stop Jon from doing so, as long as it was only when he was alone or with his sibling, something that still struck Jon as odd.
"Why the harp Jon Snow." Aemon asked curiously. It was seen as more of a women's instrument. At most a minstrel would use one but even that was the exception, not the rule.
"I don't know honestly. It was during a feast that I met a traveling minstrel and he allowed me to keep it after I showed an interest.
"Oh? And where do you call home Jon Snow? Who is your father?" Aemon asked. Given his last name was Snow it was obvious he was from the North, but it was unusual that a Northern Lord would allow their bastard to remain in their household much less attend a feast.
"Eddard Stark." Jon replied simply and Maester Aemon froze for a second. Jon assumed it was due to the fact that his father was one of the driving forces behind the rebellion and war that destroyed Aemon's family and steeled himself for any angered words Aemon would speak. In truth Aemon's thoughts were on a completely different manner.
"Jon Snow if you wouldn't mind, would you allow this elderly man a favor?" Aemon asked. Jon nodded silently but then remembered that Aemon was blind.
"Of course." Jon said. He was surprised when Aemon's wrinkled hand touched his face. He found this odd and a tad bit alarming but didn't move as the elderly man gently ran his fingers over his brow, nose, cheekbones and even his lips.
'I should have asked what the favor was before agreeing to it.' Jon thought in annoyance. Soon enough it was over, and Aemon's face was a mixture of emotions that Jon couldn't decipher.
"What is your purpose here Jon Snow." Aemon asked softly. Despite the last few minutes Jon regained his composure and assumed Aemon's previous actions were an odd habit for the man and given his advanced years he would give him some latitude.
"I wanted to speak with my uncle Benjen about my future with the Watch." Jon answered honestly.
"Why would a young man such as yourself choose the Night's Watch if I may ask." You are not like many that come here now. Not unless you have attempted a crime?" Aemon asked.
"I have not sir. I was told that it was an honorable chose to make with my life." Jon said shortly, his prior feelings returning.
"You were told you say? I don't imagine you were informed as to the state that that Watch was fallen into." Aemon responded gently.
"No, I was not." Jon said, his temper flaring at both his father and uncle.
"Do you truly understand what you'd be giving up Jon Snow? You would hold no lands, have no wife, father no children. Do you know why these are requirements? Aemon asked him. Jon did not. As a bastard he knew there were no lands he could inherit, and he expected no woman to want to marry him or bear his children, so he'd never thought to deeply as to that part of the vows.
"What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms? Love is the bane of honor, the death of duty." Aemon said, his eyes misting at the thought of the life he could have lived had he made different decision. He didn't regret where he was or what he chose but there would always be thoughts of a wife and children he could have had.
"I am a bastard sir. What right do I have to those things?" Jon said angrily as he looked away. He was a bastard, that his father took him in and gave him so many comforts was more then he should have expected but once again he found himself frustrated at the limitations placed upon him due to his birth and the things he could have, even if he wanted them.
"You have every right that anyone born into this world has. As you told me early. The family you are born into and the circumstances of your birth don't define you and shouldn't determine your future." Aemon said sternly, causing Jon to look at him again.
"It almost sounds like you're discouraging me from the Watch sir. After looking at it I'd think you could use all the help you can get." Jon said with a smirk.
"I have no doubt you'd be one of the best Jon Snow. Hearing your words and knowing you uncle, I could even see you one day being named first ranger or even Lord Commander." Aemon stated with no trace of sarcasm or humor. The words rocked Jon to the core in surprise. It was one of the few times someone his elder told him what he could do and accomplish rather then what he couldn't, and he didn't know how to respond.
"Thank you for the compliment." Jon said after a minute. Aemon waved it away before speaking again.
"Think nothing of it. I only speak what I believe. It's refreshing to hold a conversation where the other person doesn't believe I am senile or about to either fall sleep of die in front of them." Aemon chuckled causing Jon to do the same.
"You said you were here to talk to Benjen about your future with the Watch. Does this mean you will not be joining today?" Aemon asked carefully once again. Though sightless his eyes seemed to look through Jon.
"Not yet. I need to find out the truth of my mother and my other family through her before I can say the vows." Jon said.
"I take it Lord Stark did not tell you her identity and Benjen didn't know it was well then. After what we spoke about Jon Snow answer me this question. What will you do when you find out the truth?" Aemon asked him confusing Jon.
"I'm not sure of your meaning." Jon said curiously.
"What if the answer you find is not to your liking? Or worse what if it is?" Aemon asked sagely. Jon was stopped short of answering that he would come back and saw the vows as he truly pondered on Aemon's words.
'What will I do if she is alive or barring that if she comes from a family that would like to take me in?' Jon thought to himself. Aemon smiled as he could tell Jon was thinking of his words.
"You don't have to answer that question to me Jon Snow only yourself. But enough of that for now. If you plan to venture out and find her why are you up so late into the night playing our harp? Shouldn't you be getting your rest?" Aemon asked curiously. His question brought back Jon's thought on his dream and a ball of cold ice formed in his chest. Jon didn't know why but he explained his dream to Aemon. To anyone else, he would keep it to himself lest they think him crazy, but he had a feeling Aemon would not. No surprisingly, Aemon's eyebrows rose high on his bald head and a deep contemplative look appeared on his face.
"That was quite the dream Jon Snow." Aemon said after a minute.
"I agree. Is this the part where you tell me it was all a dream and to not let it concern me?" Jon asked somewhat hopefully.
"I could but I don't like to lie. I've lived a long time Jon Snow I have seen things many would call crazy or impossible. Tell me true. Do you believe it to be a simple dream?" Aemon asked him knowingly.
"I don't know what to believe." Jon said evasively. Aemon didn't call him on it, instead allowing Jon to process the validity of it at his own time. That being said it did reinforce a thought that had been nagging the elderly man for a while and he chose to take a leap of faith on this thought and the feeling behind it.
"If you would allow me a moment Jon Snow I must return to my room." Aemon said as he slowly rose to his feet, leaning on his cane.
"Do you need assistance?" Jon asked as he began to rise. He stopped as Aemon held out a hand again for him to continue to sit.
'Please don't trouble yourself. I will be back momentarily. Once you've walked these halls as long as I have you can find your way around with no light at all." Aemon said with another chuckle. As he slowly walked out of the door. Jon watched him go and looked down to see Ghost was staring at where Aemon had left. The direwolf had a look in his eyes Jon didn't recognize. It wasn't long before he heard the tapping of Aemon's cane and the door opened. Showing surprising strength for someone who looked so frail, he held something wrapped in a black and red cloth.
"Jon Snow, I wish you good fortune in your quest and want to give you a gift to help you along the way." Aemon stated as he sat down and handed the cloth wrapped object to Jon. Jon slowly removed the cloth and found that he held a sheathed sword in his hands.
Jon pulled the sword out and almost dropped it in shock. The grey ripples that weaved their way through the metal told of it's original. The handle was wrapped in leather and the pommel had orange metal like small flames coming from it. A red gem sat in the center of the gold cross guard that looked more expensive then Jon could even guess at.
"This is Valyrian steel." Jon said in reverence. He knew this as Ice, the Stark legendary broad sword was also made of the precious metal though Lord Stark only using it for ceremonies like executions. He, like all of his siblings save Sansa had always marveled at the weapon.
"Yes, it is. What you hold was once held by your childhood ideal." Aemon said with a smile, knowing Jon would connect the dots.
'My ideal? Aemon the dragon knight? It can't be! Then this sword is…'
"Dark Sister." Jon whispered. The sword had traveled with one of Aemon's kin, Bryden Rivers or Blood raven when he had been sent to the wall decades ago and thought missing ever since.
"Correct. I can tell by your tone that you understand the significance of this sword." Aemon stated.
"I can't accept this! This is an heirloom of the Targaryen. Queen Visenya herself used it during Aegon's Conquest over three hundred years ago!" Jon exclaimed, unable to comprehend how Aemon came into possession of the weapon and why e would give it to a bastard of all things.
"Correct. A student of history you are Jon Snow. But you are wrong. I can indeed give it to you. When Bryden came to the wall he quickly became the Lord Commander of the Watch but before he ventured beyond the wall on a mission, he wouldn't explain to me he handed me the sword and to me to keep it until one worthy came to see me. I didn't understand his words, he was always so cryptic, but I feel that you are meant to have it. I certainly can't use it." Aemon said with a smile and laugh.
Jon could only stare that Aemon. He'd only met this man and within an hour he'd delivered to Jon something that many felt was lost to time, never to be found again. There were multiple houses across the realm that would pay more gold then could be imagined for a regular Valyrian steel sword. But Dark Sister? One of the most ancient and prestigious swords in the history of Westeros? Jon could sell it and his great, great, great ancestors would want for nothing.
'I'd never do that. I'd die before allowing this sword to be sold like a piece of bread or barrel of ale.' Jon thought and he put the sword back in its sheath. He already had the sword that Robb had made for him and was not going to get rid of it by any means. He'd still us that sword for whatever came and would only use Dark Sister if the need called for it. The last thing he needed was to have it stolen or recognize by the wrong people.
"I will always cherish this gift. A hope to one day be worthy of it like the great men and women who used it before me. I promise you that one day I will find some way to repay you." Jon said as he grabbed Aemon's hand tightly to let him know his conviction was true.
"If you will forgive an old man's request then Jon Snow." Aemon asked grasping his hand just as tightly.
"Anything you ask of me I will try to accomplish it with my dying breath." Jon swore.
"My family is not completely destroyed. I have a niece and nephew across the Narrow Sea in Braavos. I ask that after you find your mother's identity that you seek them out and protect them if at all possible. A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing." Aemon said with his clouded eyes firmly on Jon as he spoke the last of his statement.
"I swear it." Jon said. He didn't care that it was treason to say such a thing. It was widely known that King Robert Baratheon hated the Targaryen's with an almost fanatical passion and would pay handsomely if anyone could kill or capture the last two remaining. To protect them would put at odds with the King od Westeros and all that followed him, but Jon couldn't find it within him to care in the slightest.
'I was going to be a Night's Watchman anyway. That would free me from any jurisdiction of the King.' Jon thought. Even if he decided not to join then his sword would be there to protect the remaining Targaryens in any way he could.
"Thank you, Jon Snow. I believe it's time for this old man to retire for the evening. Though if you wouldn't mind could you do me this last favor? Could you play your harp for me?" Aemon asked. Jon smiled widely as he picked up his harp without a word and began to play. The soft music resonated through the room once again and tears flowed down Aemon's face. A while later Aemon stood and walked to the door he stopped at the entrance and told Jon one last thing before he left.
"Your journey will be long and hard Jon Snow. I will give you one last piece of counsel, the same I once gave my brother when we parted for the last time, King Argon the fifth. I feel you are too destined for great things. You are half the age of Aegon, whom I called Egg. Kill the boy Jon Snow. Winter will one day be upon us again. Kill the boy and let the man be born." Aemon said as he closed the door behind him.
Jon sat at the table well into the night pondering these words, his hand never letting go of Dark Sister. The cold chill returned to him and when he eventually went to sleep the cold blue eyes of the White Walkers stared at him