Chapter 6 – And now our Task begins
'Don't Panic?' he laughed to himself and he and the world before him started to fade away.
'I have got to stop reading Douglas Addams' he mused as it all went black.
In Winterfell of the past, a young Jon Snow, tossed and turned in his bed.
Nightmares of the most horrible sort plagued his mind and Jon was praying to the Old Gods to help him wake up. With a huge gasping breath, Jon's eyes snapped open as he shot upright in bed, dizzy and disorientated as his younger and older souls merged into one. Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair and looked around the room.
His room.
His old room from childhood.
He was home.
Jon got up from the bed and looked out the small window. Dawn was just breaking. Never did Jon believe he would ever see such a beautiful sight as the Northern dawn again. Jon smiled and moved away from the window towards a small table with a basin of water by the fireplace, stripping off his night shirt as he went.
He leaned down slightly and filled his cupped hands with water, bringing his hands up to his face and washed the sweat off his face and torso. He grabbed for the towel next to the basin and started to dry off his face and arms. As he started to dry off his chest, he suddenly froze as he noticed something on his chest that shouldn't be there.
He grabbed the small mirror that hung above the table and positioned it for a good view of his chest. 'What in seven hells?' he asked himself in stunned disbelief as he touched the scars that had appeared on his chest. They had no right to be there as these were the scars he carried from the Munity at Castle Black, 4 years from now.
"I'm still dreaming, I have to be" Jon said aloud.
"Sorry, but no. You're very much awake" replied a voice behind him.
Jon spun around fast dropping the towel and mirror while grabbing for a sword that was not there. "What? How? But?" Jon tried to speak but promptly passed out on the floor.
"Well, THAT went well" said the sarcastic voice of R'hllor standing next to Jon's unconscious form. "Oh yeah, THIS is the great hero that will save the world" he finished and then settled in to wait for the boy to wake up.
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Jon stirred and slowly opened his eyes. 'What am I doing on the floor' he thought.
"Well, it's about time" said that voice again.
Jon closed his eyes as the events of earlier rushed back into his mind. "I thought you couldn't be on the mortal plane without fucking with the balance of the world?" Jon asked in a slightly rough voice as he picked himself up off the floor. He stretched out his sore body and sat on the bed.
"What are you doing here R'hllor?" he asked as he reached for a cup of water that was sitting on the bedside table.
"I came to check on you honestly. See how you were doing. Given your reaction, I'd say it was a smart thing to do." R'hllor replied.
"I was coping just fine, until I saw…." Jon trailed off and waved a hand in the direction of the scaring on his chest. "Really wasn't expecting that." he finished off touching the scars once again, as if to reassure himself it was real.
"Ah yes, the scaring. Well, our mutual friend with the wickedly sharp scythe, said something about betrayal leaving scars on the soul, but to be honest, I stopped listening after the betrayal part. Anyway the short of it is, because you travel back in time his way, when your souls merged, the marks of betrayal on your soul manifested itself physically. Oh and speaking of physically, I'm not really here. Death taught me his little non-corporal trick and he was right you know…."R'hllor trailed off into silence with a wicked grin on his face.
Jon rolled his eyes. "I just know I going to regret asking, but he was right about what exactly?"
"He should have never taught me this. I'm going to have way too much fun with this trick" R'hllor replied as he faded into nothing.
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Down in Kings Landing, Tyrion's younger self was going through the same experience that young Jon was. Suddenly waking up in almost the same manner as Jon, he was also dizzy and disorientated while his two souls merged. As soon as the dizziness had passed, he got out of bed and walked over to the sideboard, poured a glass of wine then went and sat down in his favourite chair to think on what he needed to do first. 'Winterfell first,' he thought.
He just taking a sip of his wine when a voice said from behind him,
"Well, this is disappointing. I was hoping to find you passed out on the floor in shock." R'hllor sounded disappointed that this wasn't the case.
"So sorry to disappoint you." Tyrion replied with a smirk as R'hllor walked around the table to face him. Tyrion tilted his head at the god and studied him for a moment.
"Death's little trick?" he asked in a curious tone.
"Yes indeed." Was the reply.
"So telling you that wine is over there would be rather pointless then?" he asked with a snigger. R'hllor gave him a dirty look.
"What are you doing here?" Tyrion asked.
R'hllor sighed. "You're no fun. Jon's reaction was much more entertaining." He grumbled.
Tyrion laughed lightly. "Ah, so may I assume you have come to check up on us? And if that is the case, how is young Jon doing?" he queried of the Lord of Light. "Although given your opening statement, I'm going to assume he ended up passed out on the floor yes?"
"Yes he was." R'hllor smiled at the memory "well he saw me then passed out. Although to be fair, he had just received a fairly nasty shock." R'hllor's tone had darkened by the end.
"Oh? Care to explain?" Tyrion was concerned for Jon. He'd already been through the seven hells and back and that was before he died for the first time.
"He kept the scars from the Mutiny." R'hllor replied in a dark voice.
"Death," he continued "Well, for one thing, he remembers the Time Before like us. Surprised me, but he did warn me that this would happen which is why I went to Jon first and before you ask, it has to do with betrayal leaving scars on the soul itself that never go away. In Jon's case, the scaring on his soul was so great that it physically manifested itself in this life as well."
Tyrion's eyes darkened with anger. "Allister Thorne is going on my list" he muttered in anger.
R'hllor frowned at Tyrion in concern, "it's all very well and good to plan revenge but you have other, more important things to do. Have you a plan to get to Winterfell?" He asked. Tyrion looked over at the god.
"Plan?" he asked "I don't need a plan. I am Tyrion Lannister, the Imp of Casterly Rock, the Demon money and a notorious lover of whores. I'm also known for my insatiable curiosity. If I wish to travel north and visit the Wall, then I go north and visit the Wall. It just happens that it's lucky for me that Winterfell is on the way to and from the Wall isn't it? My father, cunt though me may be, won't care what I do as long as I don't do anything that will force him to go to war. Hmm, speaking of Tywin Lannister, he definitely needs to die and sooner rather than later but in such a way that I don't get blamed this time….." Tyrion trailed off musing to himself.
"You would really kill you own father again?" R'hllor asked slightly shocked that he would contemplate doing it again.
"Did you not hear me? He needs to die. The Lannister's tore Westeros apart trying to keep the Iron Throne and while Cersei, Joffrey and Baelish may have stated the war, my father did some of the most reprehensible and shameful things this country had ever see during it. For the good of the Realm, Tywin Lannister needs to die "Tyrion stated in a flat voice, without emotion. "Furthermore," he continued "Yes I will kill my father for the good of the Realm, only this time, I'll make sure I can't get the blame for it."
Tyrion looked at R'hllor. "Oh don't look so shocked" he chided the god.
"You had to know that we were going have to get out hands dirty in order to survive the Long Night. Besides, some of your follower's actions may have actually encouraged the Long Night to come faster. You really need to take your people in hand and give them a sound talking to." Tyrion took another sip of wine while he watched the god's reaction to this.
R'hllor was twitching in agitation as he was once again reminded of what his followers had done. Tyrion was right, he realised. He was going to have to take a firmer hand with his people. He smiled faintly, "A sound talking to?" he asked.
"Well rip them a new asshole isn't polite talk here in Kings Landing. The ladies all have frail sensibilities that we must not upset." Tyrion said in a light tone and then he sighed.
"Send Melisandre to the Wall to serve Jon when he gets there. After all, he IS the Prince that was Promised. That way, if history repeats itself, at least she'll be there to raise him, for the fourth time, if necessary and being a fire priestess, she'll be able to help kill wrights if nothing else."
"As for those of your followers in Essos, keep them to the original timeline as much as possible. When it comes time for Kinvara and the others to help out in Meereen, we need to change the spiel a bit while still keeping the peace. This is what I came up with; Daenerys Targaryen is kin to the Prince that was Promised. She is Bran the Builder come again. They will stand side by side in this war just as they did eight thousand years ago and help defeat the Night King and his armies with the help of her dragons. Now, as she is Bran the Builder in this version, it will be Daenerys that will help rebuild the world and usher is a new age of peace and prosperity." R'hllor had a look of concentration on his face as he thought on what Tyrion had said.
"You know, that's actually rather brilliant." He said slowly "It had the benefit of being true while still honouring Daenerys as a saviour and it might just help her solve some problems in Slavers Bay too. If the slaves there know that they will get to have a place to call their own and be free, they might actually decide to help her work towards it. How did you come up with this idea?" R'hllor asked with respect to Tyrion.
Tyrion smirked "It's what I do. I drink and I'm brilliant at politics." He laughed as he put a new spin on an old comment.
Once his laughter had stopped, he thought on what he needed to do in order to depart for Winterfell as soon as possible.
"It will take me about two days to organize everything I need in order to leave. As I won't be traveling with an entourage of hundreds, it won't take me a month to get to Winterfell. I also won't take a wheelhouse. I can ride well enough although I am sure I will just hate my saddle and horse long before we get to the Neck and Moat Cailin." He said.
"R'hllor, May I asked a favour of you? Would you be willing to go to Jon and let him know I should be at Winterfell in roughly two weeks? The faster we convince Lord Stark to do what is needed the better. Stubborn and honourable as he is though, it could very well take the next year and a half just to get him to think about it."
R'hllor smiled. "well I see you have things well in hand here so I will do as you ask and go to Jon and let him know, then I think I'll go and look in on my followers. Get an idea of what the fuck went wrong before I try to correct it. I shall speak to you later Tyrion." R'hllor replied as he just disappeared.
Tyrion rolled his eyes. "Show off" he muttered under his breath.
Another thought suddenly struck him "I wonder if I can find Bronn, at this point in time he should be in the Riverland's…" Tyrion trailed off as he started to get dressed. 'First organise to get the hell out of Kings Landing, then find Bronn.'
As he finished dressing he called in his current squire, who Tyrion knew was a spy for his sister and ordered breakfast 'and dear Pod. I really must get Pod back too.' He turned to his desk and began to compile a list of things he needed for his journey to the North while he waited to break his fast.
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Jon's hands had finally stopped shaking after taking a few deep breaths and getting a firm hold over his emotions. The shakes had come after R'hllor had left, the memory of when he received the wounds that healed into these scars was so intense, it was as if he was back there, getting stabbed all over again. Jon reached for the cup of water again.
He wished it was ale.
He took a couple of sips, put the cup down and started to get dressed for day. He wasn't exactly sure when in the timeline he was but he figured he would find out soon. The best way to do that was to break his fast with the rest of his family.
Jon stopped just before his hand reached for the door handle, as the air left his lungs. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. His family. They were all alive. Jon could have been mistaken for a statue of stone at this moment. His body was completely frozen as the realisation that his siblings were alive, safe and happy.
Robb, so young, so carefree. Sansa, a gentle and innocent girl who believed in gallant knights, loved to sew and wanted so much to be the Lady of a great house. Jon frowned; Sansa didn't deserve what happened to her in the Time Before. Jon and especially Tyrion, would do all they could to spare her the same fate again.
Arya, the wild wolf who would never be tamed. He would definitely make sure he had Needle made for her again. It saved her life many times in the Time Before. Her ending….no, Jon refused to think about that. He would make sure it never happened.
Bran would have use of his legs and be climbing everything, worrying his Lady mother half to death with his antics. Bran would go North to Brynden Rivers and the Children. Lady Catelyn will probably kill him for it but Bran had to go. It was his Destiny in both timelines and Rickon, his little baby brother who Ramsey Bolton killed just goad Jon into a foolish attack. 'Must kill Ramsey Snow' he thought to himself. There was no way in the seven hells he was letting that psychopath come near his sibling again.
And then there was Lord and Lady Stark. The man who was not is father and the woman who hated him for all the wrong reasons.
After Jon and Sansa had reclaimed Winterfell, they sat down together over many nights and spoke about their childhoods. Sansa apologized repeatedly for being a mean and horrid little girl to him as a child. She felt guilty and ashamed about the way she treated him. After all, it didn't matter if they didn't share the same mother. They shared the same father and that is all that should matter she would repeatedly point out. Jon for his part had completely forgiven Sansa years ago and told her so. She is his little sister, he told her once, and it was her duty to be a brat to him. After all, Arya was the same way with her. Sansa had laughed and conceded he had a point.
Jon understood that she was only copying her mother's behaviour and that she didn't really understand why her mother was so cold towards Jon but in order to be the perfect little Lady her mother always wanted her to be, she copied her mother's behaviour whenever Lady Catelyn and Jon were occupying the same room.
Lady Catelyn on the other hand, well Jon may have forgiven her behaviour towards him as he could understand why she was so cold to him but he couldn't she had even treated him with a fraction of respect that came from just being human, then he would have had no problems, but she looked at him like he was dog shit to be wiped off the bottom of her shoe.
Even then, he can't entirely blame her because she wasn't in possession of all the facts. It was a combination of Eddard Stark's lie, honour and a promise he made to a dying woman in the mountains of Dorne, that was the cause of all this.
If Jon was being completely honest, he still hadn't forgiven his Uncle for withholding the information on just who his mother truly was.
Well not this time. This time, the truth will come out much sooner and Jon was sure that Tyrion, in his own unique way, will make sure that this time, Lady Stark would direct her anger where it truly belonged.
Jon reached for the handle opened the door. He had to admit to himself that he was looking forward to the time when Lady Catelyn realised that with his true father was Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, that he Jon Snow was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne and Westeros. Perhaps it was petty of him, but the look on her face when she figured it out would keep Jon smiling for many, many years to come.
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It took two days for Tyrion to organise everything he and his escort would need while traveling North. Up to and including warm clothing for when they got to Winterfell and warm fur collared cloaks for when they went to the Wall. While the journey to go and look upon the Wall was a cover story for those here in Kings Landing, Tyrion actually intended to visit the Wall as he did in the Time Before. The only difference was the timing.
Tyrion had just finished instructing the captain of his personal guard to be ready to leave at first light when Cersei opened the door and swept in, walked over to the sideboard and poured herself a glass of wine.
"You may leave captain. Get some rest, we leave at first light." Tyrion told his captain, Linkon Lannister, from the minor House of Lannister in Lannisport. "Goodnight My Lord" He saluted and walked out the door closing it behind him.
Tyrion turned to Cersei. "Good evening sweet sister. My, don't you just look lovely tonight. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" he asked in a slightly snide tone, not wanting to get into a nasty name calling argument tonight.
Cersei looked at him with barely concealed disgust. "I've been told you're leaving Kings Landing. Just where are you going you little worm?" Cersei demanded.
So, it was to be like that.
"I'm heading north Cersei. I wish to travel around a bit. See some of Westeros. Visit the Wall before I die. To be honest sweet sister, I fail to see why you even care. I would have thought you would be happy. I'm leaving Kings Landing and your sight for at least a year or more." He replied while passing her to re-fill his empty wine glass.
Cersei sneered at him. "I don't trust you, you little beast. You're up to something. I know it. You're planning something against me." She snarled at him. Tyrion just looked at her like she was crazy.
"Planning something? With who exactly? The Lords of the Riverlands? Please, they barely tolerate us. The Lords of the North? Sister, the Northmen want our whole family dead. They would rather kill me then help me plan something against you. Dear sister I do believe you are beginning to get paranoid." He replied.
Cersei was silent for a moment, "I don't believe you" she stated.
Tyrion gave a frustrated sigh.
"Cersei, I'm going north. I'm going to drink northern ale, fuck northern whores and piss of the edge of the Wall. That's all. Now please get out as I leave early in the morning and I'm tired." He told her trying to get her out without more of her unpleasantness.
Cersei just stared at him. Hatred for him evident in every part of her being.
"I hope they kill you and leave your body for wolves." She hissed at him before she opened the door exiting the room, slamming the door behind her.
"Always a pleasure sister" he grumbled in hatred and resentment as he readied himself for bed. He climbed in and got settled in a comfortable position. 'Stupid bitch. You just made my List' Tyrion thought to himself before he dropped off to sleep.
Next chapter, Jon suffers and Tyrion finds an old friend