JON

Jon couldn't eat. He barely slept. For when he did, he would have dreams so vivid and real that he felt as though he would drown in them, and when he awoke he would linger there for ages, stuck in limbo between waking and dreaming.

He would dream of his mother, and his father, and sometimes of Elia Martell and her children, sometimes he would dream of the man he'd called father his whole life, but no matter how his dreams turned, they would always end with a milky-eyed three-eyed raven cawing at him, and he would wake with a start.

"Help!" it would cry, for it's wings were broken. But Jon didn't know how to help.

Jon was trapped in his own world, longing for the family he had never known he had, and now would never know and would never have.

He missed them.

Missed them so deep it was a constant ache in his heart. He thought he had understood this pain before he had known, but he hadn't. He knew nothing. He had known nothing, and now he never would.

He would not see anyone. No one but Missandei, who he would do nothing but learn Valeyian from...what should have been his mother tongue, what he should have known from birth...he learned it with a fevour that surprised Missandei now, because he felt like it was one of the few things he had to connect himself to them.

He read. He read everything he could get his hands on. The Maester found him every book in Winterfell's library about the Starks, which he had read before, but now re-read multiple times, and he would linger over the passages about Lyanna, reading them over and over again until the ink was smeared with his tears. He also read about his Rhaegar, read every book he could find about Targaryens, of which there were many more books than about than his mother. He read everything he could about them, where he was from, who he was. He read of Aegon the Conqueror again...his namesake...Aegon...he was Aegon...son of Rhaegar...not a bastard, not a bastard...

Heir to the Iron Throne...

That part he hadn't even processed, hadn't even really cared about it, really, not when there was this ache in his heart for his family that he could not fill.

He could have spoken to Daenerys...his only Targaryen family left...for she visited often, talking to him outside his door, and sitting there, back at the door, for long hours at a time...but he was frightened to talk to her, because he knew he would tell her everything...and what if she hated him for the part he had the least amount of interest in-the throne? What did he care...he only wanted her...but he couldn't...he couldn't open the door...

Tell her that I'm sorry I couldn't be with her...tell her I'm sorry she's been alone...tell her that I love her, and that she's strong and brave, just as you are...

But what if she did not believe him?

He couldn't fathom that, for the visions were now more real to him than anything he'd experienced before. He revisted them in his mind, over and over and over again, lingering over his mother and father's first, last and only conversation with him...

He spent hours in front of the mirror, trying to find them in his face. He realized just how much he looked like Lyanna, suddenly, then, and how little he looked like Rhaegar. His father could only be found in his facial structure, true, in his cheeks, and his brow, and in his curls which weren't even the right color. But he found his mother in his eyes, and he clung to the mirror, as if he could see them there with him...as if he could bring them by his side...

Jon was lost, so, so lost...

The only time he would leave his room was to go to Bran's, who had still not woken from their shared dream. He lay there in his furs like he had so many years ago, still as a stump, eyes white and unseeing, yet Jon knew he saw all. He, too, was lost, and Jon didn't know how to save him. Sometimes when he slept and right before he would wake he would feel him, could feel him screaming, and there was always, always the Raven-reaching out for the only connection it had-Jon.

"Help!" it would screach. Jon would try to reach it, to help it in his dreams, but it was always out of reach. "HELP!"

And Jon could do no more than sit with him...and be just as lost as him...because he felt like this world wasn't truly real, either.

He didn't know how to help. Didn't even know how, really, that Bran had shown him what he did...

Sam tried to help Bran, by reading. He sent for books from the citadel, but they had yet to arrive. There was precious little mention of any Three-Eyed Ravens in any books, and that was the only lead they had to go on. The Maester had tried many things...many drugs and potions, but they only seemed to make it worse, whether by sending Bran into a sweating fever or by making him moan but not wake...and eventually they agreed it was best to do nothing, rather than risk making it worse, and perhaps Bran would wake on his own...

Sometimes Sam would sit with Jon and Bran, and he wouldn't say much, but Jon could talk to him. Because he'd already known. But he didn't understand, not really. And Jon always felt more lost when he'd speak to him than he had before he'd opened his mouth...

Sometimes, when he went to Bran's room, Daenerys would catch him in the hall. They would meet each other's eyes, and Jon would want to tell her everything, but fear held his tongue like a vice. He wasn't sure if he hated his silence more than she did.

At first, she'd tried to talk to him, hug him, hold him, kiss him, but he'd stood there, heart raging.

Tell her, the voice in his head would scream. TELL HER.

But he could never speak...

"Jon, please..." she would say to him though tears. "Please just talk to me...at least hold me...anything..."

Eventually she had given up, and had only looked away with tears in her eyes...

He'd stopped coming to her room at night, and so she came to his, and would sit at the door for he could not find it in himself to let her in.

Until one day someone banged at his door, and it was not Daenerys, but Arya.

"Let me in, Jon," she said angrily. "Before I break down this door."

And Jon was so shocked, for she'd not visited him once since he'd fallen into his stupor, that he opened the door. She brushed past him angrily, and sat in his chair, arms and legs crossed, and stared at him.

"What?" he said.

She didn't speak.

Jon slammed the door shut.

"Dammit, Arya, either tell me what you want or get out."

She only stared.

"What are you looking at?" he said, anger rising in him.

"I'm looking at you," she said calmly. She looked him up and down. "You look awful."

"Shut up," he said loudly. She merely shook her head at him.

"You know it's been almost a month since you'vde locked yourself up in here," she said. "A month."

Jon scowled.

A whole month...

Suddenly, he remembered, looked up at her in alarm.

"The dead..?!" he managed to croak out.

Arya pursed her lips at him.

"Don't worry, somehow we've managed without you. Daenerys has already led seven raids against the dead, and I myself have led three. Sansa's been training to fight. We haven't been able to mount a full scale defense yet, as we haven't got enough Dragonglass, but we've managed to hold them back until more shipments get in. Brienne's led five, Jaime Lannister four, Greyworm's led at least twelve, and little Lyanna Morment just led her very first raid."

Jon felt ashamed.

"Sansa's also been training. She's seen the dead, what they can do, now, and she doesn't want it to happen to her. I've been training her when I can. She's not much of a fighter, but she's fierce. I didn't realize she had this side of her. But soon she'll be able to lead a raid of her own."

Jon looked away. He felt like less than a shadow of a man.

"How far past the wall have they gotten?"

"They've barely reached the Kingsroad. Something's stopping them...it's like once they cross over where the wall was, they become slower, like they're...losing life. There's been reports of them just falling apart. And it's just the Wights...the White Walkers haven't even crossed over. They just sit there, right before the line of the wall, and stare. The Night King doesn't even fly on Viserion, he just sits there staring..."

"What?" said Jon sharply.

Arya stared at him.

"You didn't know? He rose Daenerys' dragon from the dead, and has been riding him. Other than knocking the wall down he hasn't moved for a month...well, since the day you came back, really."

Jon fell onto the bed and put his head into his hands. He couldn't breathe...

"I didn't know," he said. "That...that can't be easy for Daenerys...I'm sorry..."

Arya softened.

"Who are your parents?" she said softly after a while. "I know Bran showed you."

Jon closed his eyes. He wanted to crawl under a hole and never come out.

"Thank you for taking care of everything while I've been indisposed..." he said, trying to change the subject. Arya cut him off.

"Don't try to change the subject. Besides, if you really want to thank someone, thank Sansa and Daenerys. They've kept both the North and everyone else together. It's no easy thing to lead in times like this. Sansa's really stepped up to do what was expected of you."

Jon felt ashamed of himself once more.

"Now it's time to tell me, Jon, because keeping it all in your head hasn't done you much good so far."

He looked up at his little sister. She had that determined look on her face, one he'd seen many times before.

"Rhaegar Targareyn and Lyanna Stark," he blurted out without finesse.

Arya's face fell open in surprise.

"Oh," she said, and it clicked for her much faster than it had for Jon.

"Yeah," he said.

"So father wasn't...your father. He was your uncle."

"Yeah."

"And Rhaegar...but he raped Aunt Lyanna..."

"No," said Jon swiftly. That was one rumor that would have to be corrected, swiftly. "They loved each other. I saw it with my own two eyes."

"What about Elia Martell?"

"Their...they had their marriage annuled. Rhaegar married Au...my mother... in a secret ceremony in Dorne. She was there. She looked lovely. She wanted the whole thing to happen, too. All three loved each other. Elia didn't want her children on the throne."

Arya's mouth fell open wide, and Jon could practically hear her thinking hard.

"So...so...so you're..."

Jon turned away.

"You're the true heir to the Iron Throne," said Arya, piecing it together.

Jon didn't answer. But he didn't need to.

"Woah," said Arya. "I did not see that one coming."

"Yeah, tell me about it," said Jon.

"No wonder you've been holed up in here," said Arya. "I can't...I can't imagine how all of that must feel."

"I thought I knew...I thought...I thought it wouldn't surprise me, finding out. I thought she would be some bar maid, or a whore, or...sometimes I'd dream she was a noble woman, but...I never thought...this...and father...father knew...the whole time...that he wasn't my father...he let Catelyn believe...he let everyone think...he let me think..."

He fell onto his bed.

"I didn't think I would care this much once I knew. Once father died, I'd...I'd given up hope of ever knowing...and to be hit with it like this...after...after everything..."

"Daenerys won't be happy when she finds out."

Jon looked up at her swiftly.

"I don't...I don't want the throne, I don't care about any of that..."

"I wouldn't say that to anyone but me until you think about it a little longer."

"I don't want it!" said Jon sternly.

Arya frowned, but did not say a word.

"Daenerys and I...we...we're..."

"I'm not an idiot, Jon, I know. Everyone knows."

Jon hung his head in his hands.

"It was meant to be a secret. At least until we were married."

Arya raised her eyebrows at that.

"Married?" she said, sounding a little dazed. "To the Dragon Queen?"

Jon looked up at her.

"I love her. I do...she's..."

He trailed off.

"She's like something out of a song," said Arya, nodding. "Like Aegon and Rhaeneys and Viseyna, riding their dragons into battle."

Jon softened. He'd not expected Daenerys to become a hero to Arya, but it was clear she had.

"She's something else on Dragonback. You should go on a raid to see her fight. It's marvelous."

"I know. I saw her past the wall when she rescued us."

They were silent for a moment, while Jon examined his fingernails and avoided Arya's eyes. Luckily, she didn't feel the subject needed to be pressed further.

"So your real name is..."

"Aegon Targaryen," said Jon, saying the name that sounded so foriegn to him aloud. It did not feel like his name.

"After Aegon the Conqueror," she said. "You're probably hundreth person to be named 'Aegon' in the Targaryen dynasty. Aegon Targaryen...hundreth of his name, protector of the realm."

"Shut up," he muttered. Arya stifled a smile.

"Well, you'll always be 'Jon' to me," she said. Jon was grateful for that. He wasn't sure he ever wanted to be addressed as 'protector of the realm' again.

"Aegon Targaryen. You're a Targareyn," said Arya aftrer a beat. Her eyes lit up. "My brother. A Real Targaryen."

"Half-Targaryen," he said. "Not sure you count as a real Targaryen unless your parents are also brother and sister."

"Well," said Arya. "At least you chose the right house to fall in love with someone related to you."

Jon snorted. Arya giggled. They shared a look, and Jon began to laugh. Really laugh, deep in his belly, and Arya doubled over with giggles. It had felt like a very long time since he'd truly laughed so hard, and he knew only his sister could bring that out in him. Somehow, he knew she felt the same as he.

Their laughter rang through the room, and Jon felt, for the first time in a month, that maybe everything would be okay.

A/N: I know, it's been AGES. I've been distracted by video games and life and a smidge of writer's block LOL. I've been thinking about where to end this stroy and where I want it to go, and I've got a couple ideas in mind but I'm not sure (Don't worry we're only about halfway there IF THAT lol), but I really do need to think about where & how I plan on ending this so I can stay motivated. I have a problem with finishing stories if you can't tell by my long list of "Incompletes" lol. Plus, I don't know how exactly they'll end GOT and I want to guess as accurately as I can. I personally think the White Walkers will end up killing everyone, I've thought that since I started, but that's just the cynic in me that doesn't want to get my hopes up ahahaha. So we'll see how I end this story.

Anyway, please REVIEW and tell me what you think! Reviews keep me motivated! :D