Hi guys! I didn't expect to continue this story today. My problem is that I know where I want this story to go, but it was difficult to find a way to get there. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. If you do - or even if you don't- leave a review to help me improve. I do not own Jon Snow and any other characters, places, created for Game of Thrones.
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Jon noted the bones of rats and small animals that wandered the crypts in front of the feet of his dragon.
He approached the dragon carefully, hesitant but steady. The dragon's onyx eyes stared at his every move, but in a moment he felt the rough white scales under his palm and breathed an inward sigh of relief.
The dragon must have sensed the Targaryen blood in him and had taken a liking to him instantly. Jon could still barely believe his eyes. I have a dragon, he thought, still stunned in disbelief. The dragon was calm and relaxed. He looked around and saw piles of bones behind him. There were no chains, but the dragon seemed content inside his crypt.
Hmm I can't keep on calling him dragon can I? , Jon Snow thought.
"What should I name you?", he asked out loud to the dragon before him. He laughed inwardly at the thought of the dragon replying. He once asked Daenerys what the names of her dragons were and why they were named so.
Viserion for Viserys her brother, Drogon for Khal Drogo her late husband, and Rhaegal for Rhaegar Targaryen "The Last Dragon"- his father.
He sat cross legged on the stone cold floor of his crypt while absentmindedly patting his dragon. Jon doesn't know how long he thought on what to name him, he thought Arya would find it laughable. Suddenly inspiration hit him and he knew what his name should be.
"I'll call you Edrion from now on." he said to the dragon. His onyx eyes looked at him lazily as he relaxed under Jon's touch.
Edrion it is. After the one who probably put you here, Eddard Stark.
The problem now was glaringly obvious, but it took Jon awhile for it to cross his mind. Then it dawned on him, how am I going to get you out of here? he thought.
They were in the deepest level of the crypts, and the stairs were much too narrow for a dragon of Edrion's size.
Now that he thought about it, his dragon was almost as large as Daenerys' dragons, smaller by a few feet or so. But he was no longer a baby, he grew up on his own.
"Sorry Edrion, it took me so long to find you." he said. Jon didn't want to keep his dragon down here in the crypts but he could think of no way to lead him out.
"I'll come back, I promise." Jon said to reassure Edrion. He pat his head one last time before he turned to walk away. He left his crypt, went up the spiral stairs, and walked out into the snow-covered outside.
He could think of only one person to ask, and headed straight for his room.
He might even be expecting me, he thought.
He headed into the castle and went straight through winding hallways until he stopped in front of a wooden door.
He knocked two times politely and said, "It's Jon."
"Come in" the voice replied.
He entered the room and headed by the bed to talk to the one who probably held the answers.
Bran.
"You found him already?" Bran asked all-knowingly. His voice at times seemed far away when he talked. Jon still wasn't used to this new Bran, he had an involuntary shudder.
"Yes. But he's far down in the crypts, there's no way to let him out to the surface without destroying it."
"That's true", Bran said while staring at Jon, blue eyes to black eyes, "There is no way." He said definitely.
"Wha-? So I'm supposed to leave a dragon hiding below Winterfell? Dragons need to roam free, it's in their nature." Jon said, not understanding that he should do nothing.
Bran remained calm as he directed the conversation elsewhere, "Have you ever thought why Winterfell was built on top of hot springs?"
"Winterfell is found in the north. The hot springs are necessary to survive the winter." Jon said matter of factly with a puzzled look on his face. The water from the hot springs flowed through Winterfell's walls, without it during winter would be the line between life and death. He'd known this since he was little, and Bran should have known this as well.
"True. But Winterfell was built for more than just to pass the winter inside it's warm walls." Bran said, before Jon could say anything. Bran continued, "There will come a time in the near future when the need for the dragon will be known to us, and there will be nothing in its path to stop it from rising.
The Stark words are winter is coming. Father always said, a Stark must always remain at Winterfell. When winter comes, we hold the key to ending it." Jon noted that Bran's voice seemed ominous at that moment.
"That's all you need to know for now," Bran said, his words doused with finality. Jon saw Bran start to lie down, and took that as a sign to leave.
Jon walked slowly towards the door. As he reached to open the door, he heard Bran's voice, "What did you name him?" he asked. Jon noticed that when he spoke this time his voice held a childlike quality, unlike his voice from before.
"Edrion."
"Edrion," Bran smiled at the name, "it's a good name. Don't worry about him, he was born in darkness, it's what he's used to. And I know that Ghost and the other direwolves have been helping him with food." He smiled knowingly.
Then Jon left and wondered about the day when Edrion would be needed. He feared the day would arrive too soon.
As he walked back to his quarters, amidst the snow outside, he noticed red eyes looking his way. He saw Ghost with a fresh kill in his mouth. He watched him until he lost sight of him somewhere behind the ruined part of Winterfell.
He recalled what Bran said, and decided to trust Ghost for now to take care of Edrion.
The moon was full and high in the sky. Jon thought about every word Bran said, trying to understand them. For that one night, he fell asleep without remembering the faces of those he had known. All his worries would have to wait until day breaks, for now he decided to rest.