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The Return of the Dragon King

Chapter 3

The burning sword rose and fell. Its blade pierced the screaming demon's frozen heart, and black blood spurted out, burning at the touch of the flames that wreathed the warrior's sword. The man roared in triumph as he finally brought down the accursed one who had kept the world in darkness.

"You…you fool! You think you have won? You think my death means something? This victory means nothing! The light will fail again, and darkness shall return!"

"Night follows day, just as winter follows spring." The man spat in response to the demon's taunt. "But the opposite is also true, the day comes after the night, and winter gives way to the flower of spring. Such is the will of the Lord, the Creator, and nothing that you or your nameless master will say or do will change that."

The demon screamed and thrashed, but the golden flames freely-lit by the life most precious to the Lord's Chosen were too great even for the Nameless One's champion. Its essence burned away to nothing, its flesh, blood, and bone crumbling to dust on the dying wind.

Around the man on the battlefield the walking dead enthralled by the demon burst into flames as one, their tortured spirits released from their twisted prisons into the peace of death. As for the soulless minions of the Nameless One, they fled back into the cold and shadows, the cold light of their eyes and swords slowly vanishing into the distance.

Slowly, so too did the snow begin to stop falling, and the sky darkened with night for years beyond count grew brighter. Slowly, but steadily, until at long last, weak rays of light broke over the horizon, as the Sun finally rose once more. The warriors who had survived the battle looked on in awe at the man encased in armour before them, who had broken the unbreakable and won back the day.

The man turned to look at them, and then he looked down at his sword, burning with divine fire lit by the life of one to whom his heart would always belong, and who he would never see again save by the grace of the Lord. And he knew as surely as he knew that the darkness would return, just as he knew that another would rise to take his place against the darkness, that he would see her again.

That time would come soon.

But not yet…he still had a duty to finish, and make certain that the new dawn would not be tainted by what was left of the darkness from the moment of its return. And so he raised his sword, the chanting and cheers of his brothers echoing in the morning.

"Azor Ahai…! Azor Ahai…! Azor Ahai…! Azor Ahai…! Azor Ahai…! Azor Ahai…! Azor Ahai…! Azor Ahai…!"

Jon Snow woke up gasping, and spent a few moments catching his breath before getting up. Judging from the light coming through the flap of his tent, it was still fairly early in the morning, though not so early that he'd be risking a talking to for missing breakfast.

Especially since King Robert had constantly insisted that he eat breakfast with them, and with the rest of his family much to the displeasure of both Lady Stark and Queen Cersei.

"It's nice I suppose…" Jon thought as he put on his clothes. "…but I wouldn't want to aggravate either of those two too much. Not to mention that Joffrey doesn't seem to like me so much."

Clipping his sword to his belt, Jon took a drink of water from a skin before heading out. He'd only taken a few steps before an unpleasant voice caught his attention.

Speak of the devil…

"Well, well, well…" Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon drawled as he approached. Flanking him were both Robb and Theon, the former smiling reassuringly over the prince's shoulder while Theon just looked amused. Nearby Jon also saw Ser Sandor 'the Hound' Clegane of the Kingsguard hovering protectively. "…if it isn't Lord Stark's bastard. Woke up late today, didn't we?"

"It's as you say my prince." Jon said with a slight bow. He kept the disdain from his face and voice, but the slightness of his bow said enough. Joffrey's sneer grew ever so slightly.

"Didn't your father ever teach you manners? Or if even if he did, didn't they stick, bastard?" he snarled. Beside him Theon grew alarmed, with Ser Clegane coming closer as Robb's face stiffened. Jon's did too. "If you're going to botch the ways things ought to be done, then you might as well have not done them at all. Should I have you flogged, as a reminder to show the proper respect the next time?"

"My prince…" Sandor began with a wary look at the thunderous expression on Robb's face. "…Their Graces await you in the main pavilion. With respect, it would not do to keep them waiting."

Joffrey shot him an annoyed look, and with a scoff and a sneer at Jon stormed off followed by Sandor and Theon. Robb stayed however, and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "You alright there?" he asked, and Jon shot him a disbelieving look.

He took a deep breath. "How in the name of the gods do you do it?" he asked.

"Put up with him…?" Robb asked, and Jon nodded. "Don't forget: I'll be Lord Stark for most of that prick's reign. I have to put up with him whether I like it or not."

"For once I'm grateful that I'm a bastard." Jon remarked dryly, and Robb punched him on an arm.

"Prick…" he said, and Jon grinned. A moment later and Robb did too. "…as it stands though Joffrey's attitude might be a problem. If the reports about Aegon Targaryen are true…"

"Reports…?" Jon echoed as he and Robb walked towards the main pavilion. "Robb please tell me you have not been eavesdropping. You know what happened the last time we did that."

"I wasn't eavesdropping." Robb responded. "Father's been letting me sit on a few of his councils for a while now, haven't I told you?"

"No you haven't."

"Oh…" Robb said, suddenly looking and sounding crestfallen. "…sorry…it must have slipped my mind…"

"Don't worry about it." Jon said reassuringly. "I'm not exactly the kind who needs to know what goes in father's councils."

Robb stopped walking and grabbed Jon by a shoulder. "You're my brother Jon." He said. "Nothing will ever change that. You hear me? Nothing…!"

"Robb…"

"Say it with me Jon…" Robb interrupted. "…nothing. You are my brother Jon, and that will never change. No matter what happens, I…WE, will always be your family. Winterfell will always be your home, and the same goes for the entire North. You might want to make a name for yourself in Essos, but you are always welcome here, always."

"Lady Stark is not going to be happy."

Robb laughed. "No, I suppose not." He agreed. "Though as I said, I will be Lord Stark. Who I choose to welcome is my business. It's her business if she wants to get displeased, but well I can live with a bit of that."

"I don't want to put you in a bad spot…"

"Enough Jon…" Robb said, placing an arm around his brother's shoulders and again making for the main pavilion. "…now as I was saying…"

"I'd say that father's councils aren't my business…" Jon interrupted dryly. "…but you'll press on regardless, wouldn't you?"

"You are my brother." Robb replied with a grin, and Jon laughed briefly.

"Alright out with it already then."

"As I was saying…" Robb said. "…Aegon Targaryen is – apart from the rumours of him fucking his sister – though that's probably just slander…"

"And even if it isn't…" Jon said. "…he's a Targaryen."

"There's that…" Robb agreed. "…anyway, Aegon Targaryen's supposed to be quite the opposite of Joffrey, quite easy to get along with and very intelligent. Right now he doesn't have much support outside of Dorne, but if Joffrey becomes king and still acts like you saw earlier…well the Dornish and the Reachmen aside, there were plenty of Vale and Stormland loyalists during the last war. If Joffrey pisses off enough of the Seven Kingdoms…"

"…then we're in for a Targaryen Rebellion, much like Joffrey's father and the Blackfyres before them."

"Except that the Targaryens have a direct claim to the Iron Throne." Robb said grimly. "Don't forget: King Robert's claim to the Iron Throne is based on his descent from Aegon the Unlikely through his grandmother."

"That's going to be problematic."

"Understatement of all things Jon…" Robb said as they approached the main pavilion. "…now enough about this: it wouldn't do to talk about the Targaryens in the king's presence."

"No it wouldn't."

"I heard you had a fight with Joffrey earlier." Arya said, riding closer with Nymeria at her horse's heels.

"Did not…!" Jon protested while Ghost sniffed at the she-wolf following his master's sister. She nipped at him with a mix of warning and playfulness in turn.

"Did so…!" Arya shouted back, and sticking her tongue out at Jon. They were riding for White Harbour, and would be there around noon. They'd have their luncheon with Lord Manderly, and Jon would set sail on one of the trade ships for Braavos in the late afternoon. "Robb told me."

"Robb talks too much."

"He only cares Jon." Arya said with a roll of her eyes. "Especially since you seem to think that once father's gone to King's Landing you won't be welcome in the North anymore. You worry too much: even if mother doesn't like you around, she won't actually bar you from Winterfell, not when you grew up there at father's word. And Robb and the rest of us will always welcome you."

"You know Robb said the same thing earlier."

"Because it's the truth…" Arya said smugly. "…and father taught us never to lie."

Jon laughed. "Yes he did." He agreed.

"See…?" Arya said and Jon sighed.

"Fine…" he said. "…I'll stop worrying that when I come back from Essos I'll find myself cooling my heels outside the gates because I didn't get an invitation to come back."

"You will come back, won't you?" Arya asked and Jon glanced at her. Two pairs of Stark eyes met each other, and not a word passed between the siblings for the next several moments.

"Yes I'll be back." Jon finally said. "I promise little sister."

"When you come back, I won't be so little anymore."

"Probably not…" Jon conceded. "…I'll be sure to come back with a present, maybe dragon eggs or something like that."

"How about a sword of Valyrian steel, like the one father has…? It's more useful than a stupid egg that'll never hatch anyway."

Jon laughed. "Fair enough…" he said. "…still, don't be too shy asking for souvenirs from Essos now."

Arya stuck out her tongue before leaning over and punching him on the arm. "I'll be waiting for you." She said. "So come back alright…?"

"I will. I promised didn't I?"

"I don't understand." Joffrey said softly to his mother. They were seated at the high table in New Castle at White Harbour. Nearby his father was having a good time with the Lord Manderly, both men enjoying themselves with rich food and Dornish wine. "What does father see in that bastard? And Lord Stark…father's not exactly a paragon in that area, but at least he doesn't keep his little animals in the Red Keep."

"The men of the north are much like the Dornish Joffrey." Cersei responded, her voice just as low to keep people from overhearing. "Where the Dornish are decadent they are barbaric. What the Dornish disdain the men of the north are ignorant of."

"And I would marry a northern lady?"

"Are you displeased with her then?"

"Well no, she's…pretty enough I suppose, and she knows how things are ought to be done. And for anything more, well I'll have you around mother. I'm sure you can teach that northern girl – Sansa I think it was – what else she needs to know."

"Yes…" Cersei said, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "…I can do that. And I will. You deserve nothing but the best my son."

Joffrey smiled as his mother patted him on a shoulder. "Don't worry mother…" he said, unaware of Jon's walking past at that very moment. "…when I'm king, you won't need to worry about those shameful things father's made you put up with all this time. It's as you said mother, all that bastards deserve is to be drowned."

"I'm looking forward to it, Joffrey." Cersei said with a smile. Jon meanwhile took his seat at a nearby table repressing a shudder.

"Even if they are bastards…" he thought. "…they're still kin. Kin-slaying…am I…are we witnessing the rise of another Maegor the Cruel? Another Aegon the Unworthy…? Will Robert Baratheon be remembered as the Viserys I of the Baratheon Dynasty?"

Jon glanced once at the high table. Should he warn the king? The idea made him snort with disdain. Without proof of what he'd heard, there was no point. The queen and the crown prince would deny everything and make Jon look like a slanderer.

And then Robb's words from earlier came back, and he shuddered. The Targaryens' wrath was legendary, even without their dragons. If Joffrey gave them an opportunity to rebel, regardless of whether or not they won, the realm would burn at the hands of the Targaryen dragonlords.

He glanced back at the high table, and then his eyes fell on his father, sitting stoically at the king's right. Perhaps there was something he could do after all.

"You are certain of this?"

"Father I will admit that the crown prince and I do not see eye-to-eye." Jon said. "But I would not lie about something like this either."

"No…" Ned Stark agreed. "…you wouldn't. Still there's no proof, and it'll be your word against those of the queen's and the crown prince's."

"That's why I came to you father." Jon said. "You are the King's Hand after all."

"So I am…" Ned agreed, stroking his chin in thought. Father and son stood silent in a corner of the New Castle for a few moments, and then Ned smiled. "…what do you suggest then, Jon?"

"Me…? I…"

"You brought this to my attention, and you've given some thought to it. What do you think should be done?"

"An eye perhaps should be kept on His Grace's bastard children…?" Jon suggested after a moment's thought. "Maybe get them someplace safe…?"

"The former is easy to do…" Ned said. "…the latter not so much…though perhaps there might be a way to solve two problems at a time..."

"Father…?"

"Robert's been complaining you see." Ned said to Jon. "About the Lannisters getting too influential at court…"

Jon nodded in understanding. His father had never approved of Tywin Lannister's influence at court, and especially how he'd gotten away with sacking King's Landing and ordering the attempted murder of Princess Elia and her children. That both Jon Arryn and Robert had had no issues with his actions – and Robert marrying Cersei Lannister afterwards – had opened a rift between them, bridged only by their shared grief over Lyanna Stark's death.

"If we can send Joffrey to be fostered like say with Stannis at Dragonstone or with Lord Hoster at Riverrun…" Ned said. "…then maybe he can grow out of his mother's shadow."

"Her Grace could still be a threat to the king's other children." Jon said. "From what I heard Joffrey got his ideas from her."

"I know one of Robert's bastards." Ned said with a smile. "Mya from the Vale…she's a good girl…perhaps if I can get Robert's agreement – and get him in a good mood by having Joffrey grow up outside of the damn Lannisters' influence – then perhaps I can manage to have the rest of Robert's bastard children moved somewhere safe where they can build their own lives freely."

"I suppose that's the best we can hope for."

Ned smiled at Jon. "Sympathy for others like you…?" he said, and Jon looked stricken.

"Father I…"

He broke off as Ned laughed and patted him fondly on the back. "Don't fret Jon…" Ned said. "…I can't blame you if you did. The way you grew up…plenty of bastards would kill for a chance to grow up like you did. That you would think of them speaks well of you. I'm very proud."

"I…thank you father…"

The trade ship wallowed in the waters of the harbour, Jon rummaging through his pack before his expectant sister. Apart from Arya – who'd talked her father (much to her mother's displeasure) into letting her see her brother off – also present were his father and to his surprise, the king and two of his Kingsguard. Finally Jon found what he was looking for.

"This is…" Arya said while Ned supressed a groan and Robert laughed.

"You were always complaining that you never had a real sword of your own."

"Jon…" Ned began weakly. "…Arya…how long has this been going on?"

"For a while now…" Jon admitted weakly as Arya happily drew her new sword from its scabbard.

"And just how much has your brother taught you, young lady?" Ned asked his daughter.

Arya shrugged. "Stick them with the pointy end…" she said, and Ned groaned as Robert laughed again.

"Oh let it go Ned." Robert barked. "It's not like Lyanna didn't know how to use a sword. She's your sister. And she's your daughter. From the look of things, the apple didn't fall far from the tree."

"That's what I'm worried about." Ned said before looking meaningfully at Jon and Arya who looked slightly-ashamed. "On one hand I'm angry that you kept this from all of us. You're children, in Jon's case until today, and we have responsibility for your wellbeing. On the other hand though, Jon's been trained in the use of a sword, so I'm glad you looked to someone who at least knew what he was doing as opposed to figuring things out on your own. Gods know what might have happened then."

"We're sorry father." The two of them chorused, with both Nymeria and Ghost lowering their heads in sympathy.

Ned sighed and placed a hand on their shoulders. "With that said…" he said while looking at Arya. "…keep it away until we get to King's Landing. Your mother's going to give me an earful if she finds out, and maybe even take it away. But once we get there, I promise I'll get you a proper instructor."

"Really…?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

Arya's response was to jump and hug her father, who smiled and hugged her back. As she stepped back, he turned to Jon. "I've said this before…" he said. "…and I'll say it again. I've very proud of you, and I wish you all the luck and success you will need in Essos. Just come back and visit when you can. Whether it's me or your sisters at the capital, or your brothers at Winterfell, you will always be welcome."

"Father…" Jon said softly, and after Ned smiled he stepped forward and embraced him like Arya did. "…goodbye, and thank you for everything…"

"You're my son…" Ned said. "…that will never change, no matter what."

Jon smiled, and then turned to the ship as the captain shouted about the shifting tides. "Well…" he said, hoisting his pack as Ghost got to his feet. "…I'd best be off."

"One more thing lad…" Robert said while stepping forward. Jon bowed…and then gasped in surprise as Robert put a cloth bag in his hand. From the weight and feel it was probably full of gold coins. "…just something to help you start with…"

"Your Grace, this is…"

Robert waved him to silence. "You're a good lad Jon." He said. "And I owe your father so many things, things I could never repay. So just shut your trap and pocket it, alright?"

"Yes Your Grace. Thank you."

Robert smiled, and with a silencing look at the ship's captain he turned back to Jon. "Remember lad…" he said. "…you might be a bastard but that gives you something that the rest of us, your father, your brother, the rest of your siblings and even me with that chunk of iron in the capital doesn't have: freedom. You can be and do whatever you want, and make your life as you see fit without anyone telling you otherwise. So don't waste it away, and become someone who you can look back on ten years down the line and be proud of."

Jon looked at the king with surprise at this, and Robert nodded. "Best be on your way lad…" he said. "…the tide's shifting. Good luck and may the gods be with you."

Jon smiled and nodded at the king and his relatives, and with Ghost following boarded the ship that would take him to Braavos and from there to a destiny of his making.

A/N

Jon is not Azor Ahai reborn he just had a dragon dream of the first Azor Ahai.

I didn't rehash the execution of the deserter, the finding of the wolves, and so on because, well what's the point? It's the same in the book, so why bother? Needle and Arya though, well it's different so I put it here.

It'll be a while before we go back to the Targaryens I want to flesh things out a bit first in the Seven Kingdoms before heading back to them. There'll be plenty of focus on them later on, so for now we stay with the Starks (and maybe the next couple of chapters).