Don't get used to it. Those of you who've been following this story for a while now will know how crazy my schedule can get. I will write chapters for as long as time and my muse permits.

That being said, enjoy the chapter and please leave a review. How am I supposed to know if I'm slipping if you don't tell me it sucks?

Chapter 42 – Complications Are Bad

Jon was struggling to regain control.

He hadn't meant to hit his father but when he apologised for bringing wights south of the Wall, Jon snapped. His fury rose up and engulfed him completely; both sides of his blood were in harmony, for once both sides were in complete agreement.

Normally, his cool wolf's blood was in complete control but ever since he had accepted the truth of who he truly was, his valyrian blood had been fighting to make itself known to him as well.

"Jory leave now. I'm fine. Go, clear the hallway and make sure no-one comes close. Understood?" Ned asked his loyal guard.

Jory nodded slowly and left the room with trepidation. Never in his life would he have expected Jon of all people to hit his father. Robb yes for he had his mother's temper and a good portion of the wild wolf blood in his veins, just like his uncle Brandon once did but Jon?

Never

They waited in silence while Jory did as he was order too and Tyrion took that opportunity to make his way over to Ned. He squatted down and examined his face, grimacing slightly as the blood trickled from the side of Ned's mouth.

"You'll live." Was the humourless verdict.

Ned grunted and winced in pain as he gingerly touched his jaw. Jon had a mean swing on him.

That had hurt…a lot.

Ned got up off the floor, pausing a moment as he felt a tooth move as he ran his tongue over his teeth. He would have to see Maester Lewin for that later. The last thing he needed was a toothache.

Tyrion watched as Jon paced back and forth along the wall on the far side of his father's solar, muttering mostly under his breath. He couldn't make out everything Jon was saying but if the occasional word he was hearing Jon speak in the Old Tongue was any indication, it wasn't flattering towards his father.

Ned sighed. He was in for a difficult fight.

"I had no choice."

"You had no right!" Jon hissed at him in return.

"I am Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I have the right!"

"Not when it comes to the dead!"

Ned's temper was starting to fire up.

"If don't I have the right then who does?" Ned growled at him in anger.

"I do."

"You?! Why you?"

Jon's smile was a bitter one.

"Because apparently it's my destiny." He spat, his tone just as bitter as his smile.

"Destiny?! What do you know off destiny? You're a child! You know nothing of such things!"

Oh that had definitely been the wrong thing to say.

Jon glared at him with hatred and moved.

He moved so fast that Ned had trouble tracking his movements. Before he realised what was happening, Jon had grabbed him and forcibly pushed him backward over his desk. His face loomed large in Ned's view, eyes blazing with a fury Ned had never seen from him before and for the first time ever, Ned was scared of his own son.

"I am no child and I know more then you EVER will!"

Jon snarled at him, hoping that this would be the last time he needed to remind his father that he was not the child that had belonged to this body.

He released his father's tunic from his grip and stood back.

"That will be the last time you call me or treat me like a child father, the last time. Do you understand me?" Jon demanded, his anger was raging, giving off so much heat that Ned was surprised that nothing had caught fire yet.

Suddenly Ned was very forcibly reminded that Jon was Rhaegar's son!

His stance was regal, his demeanour kingly and the righteous fury of a king radiated off him as an almost visible force.

Ned sucked in sharp a breath, seeing his nephew as the King he was for the first time ever and felt at first awe and then so much shame for raising him as the bastard he wasn't.

He lifted himself off his desk.

"I understand, your Grace"

The "your Grace" had been an automatic reflex for just then, Jon very much resembled his ancestors, the Winter Kings of old.

Jon had a sour expression on his face.

"Don't you start" He warned in a dark voice full of threat and danger.

Ned was beginning to see what Davos meant about Jon being an exceptional king.

Tyrion smirked.

Personally he wanted Jon on the throne. Not only did he have the right by blood and birth but he had a moral centre, compassion for all people, noble born and small folk alike and a sense of righteous justice tempered with mercy that had been lacking on the throne in the last hundred years or so.

He had the mentality and strength of will to remake Westeros into what it should have been. He would lead personally and his men would love him for he wouldn't ask them to do anything that he himself wasn't prepared to do and he would fight with them on the front lines unlike so many kings in the past. But he knew better then to press him on the issue because it would get him nowhere until Jon was ready to finally step and take it.

Jon shook his head and clamped down on his anger.

"What were you thinking father? I know you needed proof the of the wights to prove that the Others have returned but IT but could have been left at the Wall, under guard by the Free Folk who know how to deal with them better then you do!" Jon demanded of him.

"How did you get them past the Wall? Its magic may be weakening but it's still got enough power to make sure wights and the Others can't cross it."

"We used a small boat and ferried them around the Wall at Eastwatch."

"This is a very bad idea father. You shouldn't have brought them south of the Wall, let alone so close to our home!"

"I needed them close in order to show Tywin. That Robert is here now is fortuitous timing on his behalf…"

Was as far as he got before Tyrion interrupted.

"Them? Just how many wights do you have?" he exclaimed.

"Three. I have three wights and I took ample precautions in regards to capturing and containing them. I did listen to you when you told me about how you caught and transported the wight to King's Landing you know." He informed them.

Jon shook his head.

"There's no such thing as ample precautions when it comes to them." He said, and then paused as a thought came to him.

"Are they still active? Do they still move and snarl?" He asked with apprehension.

"Yes"

Tyrion and Jon exchanged dark looks.

"Is that not a good thing? We want them to be moving don't we?" Ned was now the one feeling the apprehension as he watched the young men exchanged looks.

"Wights are just dead bodies raised by black magic. They have no intelligence, no cunning, no other purpose to their existence other then what their masters deem them to have. It's the Others we need to worry about, the White Walkers. If those bodies are still moving, that means that whoever raised them wanted them here. They've not served their purpose yet." Tyrion explained to him.

"How many men did you lose capturing them father? How many?"

"Twelve. I lost twelve men out of the twenty five I sent. All orphan born or men with no family to miss or morn them if they died and I made sure they well paid when they returned. They'll lack for nothing." Ned said quietly.

Jon just lowered his head in sorrow.

Loosing that many men just to capture three wights was unacceptable to him.

"And their bodies?" he asked.

"Burned as soon as possible and their bones returned here. They were buried in the graveyard just inside the inner walls where those who died in the service of Winterfell lie because they gave their lives so Winterfell may survive."

"And the Other who raised them?"

"Not there according to the Free Folk who guided them north of the Wall. They did scout around just in case one was in the area but their instructions were to leave the Others alone and if one was in the area, to leave immediately. I made sure they were supplied with dragonglass knives, arrow heads and valyrian steel swords just in case."

Jon felt relieved. So his father hadn't been completely careless then.

Tyrion also sighed in relief.

"You will have to command that the graveyards in the North are dug up and the bodies burned. The crypts under Winterfell and every castle need to be cleared of bodies too. Even if they've rotted down to skeletal remains so the Night King can't get a foothold on this side of the Wall." Tyrion reminded him.

"I know but that will take time and we're not at war yet so we should be safe. If I remember correctly you said that wights can't raise the dead."

"No they can't but they can kill others so they can be raised." Jon replied.

That thought only intensified the feeling of dread in his guts that told him this would go very wrong.

"Lord Stark, this is the last time you or anyone makes a decision about the Night King and his horde without consulting Tyrion, Sam or myself first. We were there, we fought them and we died trying to stop them. You know nothing of them or how to stop them. We do." Jon laid down the law to his father.

Ned studied Jon carefully. Davos was right and Ned hated that fact. Jon would be the one to lead in this fight to come against the dead. As much as he didn't want it to be true, he could no longer deny it.

It would complicate matters for he knew the truth of Jon's birth will come out regardless should he take the lead in this fight or not and it would be a disaster. The Lords and their men would divide into two camps, Robert's and Jon's and go to war over who had the right to sit on the Iron Throne and Ned wasn't entirely sure who would win. But he knew if it came to that there was only one side he could pick.

The Pack stays together and will defend its own to the death.

"Very well I agree to your terms in all matter pertaining to the Night King and his Horde. I need to speak to Tywin first thing tomorrow but after that I shall take you with us when I show Robert and the rest of them." Ned agreed.

Jon heaved a sigh of relief. He hated fighting with his father and hadn't meant to go so far but instead of backfiring on him as he expected, his rough handling of his father seems to have been beneficial as he had stopped fighting Jon and had agree to take direction from him in regards to the handling of the dead horde.

"Speaking of my father, I do have a question for you Ned." Tyrion told him.

Ned looked at him.

"Why in the name of all that is holy would you send a betrothal offer to my father, offering Sansa as my potential bride without consulting with me first? I could have pointed you in the direction of one of my younger, more handsome cousins." He asked.

Ned frowned.

"Did you not want to marry my daughter?"

"It's not that, I'd be delighted to, it just…why me?"

Ned's frown cleared up as he understood.

"All I ever wanted for my daughter is for her to be safe, happy and protected. I know that you'll do everything in your power to make sure she is because you already did. I have spoken to her this very day about the possibility of this betrothal going through and she's actually quite content about it. She told me that at least she'll be marring her very good friend and she shall be quite happy with that. It's remarkable how much she's grown under your guidance and friendship."

He smiled.

"You're a good man, Tyrion Lannister and I'd be proud to have you join my family."

It wasn't long after that that Tyrion was once again standing in front his father.

"I accept the betrothal."

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

"Ned! What in the name of the Seven happen to you?" Catelyn Stark cried as her husband entered their bedroom that evening before the feast, the bruise on his jaw from where Jon's fist had struck him was still darkening.

"It's nothing to worry about my love. Everything is fine." Ned replied with a wince as he removed his tunic.

"Fine? Everything is certainly not fine husband. You have a bruise running all the way across your lower back! What on earth did you do to yourself my love?" Cat enquired as she ran a gentle hand over the bruise that was slowly turning black in colour on his lower back.

Ned winced again but this time in memory of the event. He was sure that Jon hadn't realized how hard he had slammed Ned into the desk.

Cat sighed and motioned for him to sit on the edge of the bed while she grabbed the small pot of salve they used for bruises.

"What happened Ned?" She asked as she got behind him and started to apply the salve to the bruise on his back.

Ned heaved a sigh of relief as the salve started to numb the pain in his back.

"Jon did. We had a bit of a disagreement about the wights. Suffice to say he did not approve of them being south of the Wall or so close to Winterfell itself." He informed her.

Cat shuddered in fear.

She didn't blame Jon for his feelings on this matter in the slightest. She too, didn't like those…things being so close to her children. Cat had read her husband the riot act when she had found out what he had ordered to be done and would have whole heartily agreed with Jon's suggestion of keeping them at the Wall, as far away from her and her children as possible.

She didn't know how her Uncle Brynden could stand to stay there and guard them! The only reason she hadn't grabbed up her children and left Winterfell already was because she trusted Uncle Brynden to keep her family safe from those things.

"Well, I can't say I blame him at all! Those things are unnatural Ned and an offence against the Gods and the natural order of things. I hate knowing that they are so close by. I'll be very glad when their finally dead for good!" Cat said as she finished applying the salve to his back. She wiped her hands on a scrap of cloth, closed the jar then moved off the bed to stand in front of him.

Ned sat there in silence, staring at his folded hands.

"What's wrong my love?" She asked him gently.

Ned sighed and looked up at her face.

Cat was shocked to see tears running down his cheeks and remorse in his eyes.

"Oh my love, what is it? What bothers you so? Tell me please. Tell me how I can help."

He gave her a sad smile.

"I made a mistake Cat. A very grave mistake."

She knelt in front of him quietly, taking his hands in her own, waiting for him to continue.

"I made a mistake with Jon."

"How so?"

"I raised him as my bastard. Not only did I lie to him, you, my children and Westeros, I also broke my promise to Lyanna."

"Oh Ned." Cat cried as she rose to sit next to him on the bed and embraced him in her arms.

"You made the only decision you could at the time. As much as I wish you could have trusted me with his secret, I understand why you couldn't. It was the only way to protect him from Robert and Tywin. He was only a babe Ned. He did not deserve to suffer the same fate as his siblings, it was the only way to save him."

Cat tried to console him but it didn't work.

"He was born to be King Cat. He was literally born as The King. Anyone with a claim to the throne above him was already dead by the time Lyanna gave birth. He was the King from the first moment he drew his first breath and I raise him as a bastard. My bastard. Do you honestly think that's what Lyanna wanted for her son? What Rhaegar wanted for him? No, I know they didn't because I wouldn't want our children to suffer the same fate if I were in their position. They have every right to be as angry with me as I am with myself. I'm sure Lyanna is just waiting to beat me senseless for how I have treated her son."

"Wait, wasn't Viserys in line before him?"

"No. He was Aerys's second son. Rhaegar was Aery's heir and after he died, his children stood to inherit the throne. If all of Rhaegar's children died, only then would Viserys rise to the throne. Also he also didn't know about Jon which is why he tried to press his claim. That and he was madder than his father." He quickly explained.

"Of course, I'm sorry, I should have remembered that. Then why did Jon renounce it in favour of Daenerys instead? He is the heir, not her."

"At first it was because he didn't know the truth and when he did find out who he truly was, he didn't want to believe it was true at first and when accepted the truth, he never wanted the throne in the first place, not even the Winter Throne, which is also part of his birthright and that is my fault.
I should have raised him as his station demanded, even if only in secret. I could have sat him down when he was old enough and told him of his parents but I did nothing. I ignored him as much as I could out of fear and that's unacceptable." Ned berated himself.

Cat was silent. She'd never heard her husband speak like this before. He was always in control of himself, even when they were alone. To hear him speak so freely was both a gift and a curse.

"Jon understands why you did what you did and has forgiven you for it otherwise he would not call you father. But there is nothing you can do about it now. You can only make sure you do right by him in the future. That's all we can both do to make up for our mistakes." Cat included herself in this as she knew she also had a lot to atone for in regards to Jon.

"Do you want to help him regain his birthright?" she asked him very quietly.

Ned gave a bitter laugh.

"I won't have a choice. Jon told me this morning that some people are dreaming about the future he comes from. And while we can only hope people write it off as only strange dreams, I fear the worst. Someone, somewhere out there knows who he is. Robert will find out. It's only a matter of time and when that time comes, House Stark will kneel to Jon and no other. I have to protect him Cat, I need to."

Ned begged her to understand.

Cat looked at him. She understood what he was saying and what he was asking of her. So she made her decision.

"Then I shall do all I can to convince House Tully kneel beside you my love and help you convince the Northern Lords to kneel to Jon as well."

Ned looked at her with such hope in his eyes, it almost made her cry.

"You mean it? Are you sure my love? It's a very dangerous game we play and it could cost us all our lives even the children's, during Jon's attempt to claim the throne from Robert." He asked her.

Cat gave him a gentle smile and nodded.

"I'm sure Ned. The Northern Lord's already respect him so it shouldn't be too hard, besides, a king with Stark blood in his veins on the throne of the Seven Kingdoms? One with a legitimate claim and raised in the North in Winterfell? They would jump at the chance to put Northern blood on the throne of the Seven. Not to mention there are still those who support House Targaryen south of the Neck who would declare for him if his claim could be proved to their satisfaction so it's not all bad. But it puts one very large target on him Ned. He'll be in danger for the rest of his life, even more danger then he's in now. Are you sure he's ready?"

Ned looked her in the eye.

"He's ready."

She wanted to cry.

"This isn't what he wants." Cat reminded him sadly, feeling pity for Jon for the storm that would result from this.

"No, this isn't what he wants, but he's the King Westeros needs."

#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

The feast that night was long and exhausting and this time, Jon couldn't skip attending it as he had the night before. While Robert and Stannis wouldn't notice or care if he was missing from the high table but Tywin would. It was best not to do anything to arouse Tywin's interest; he was already too much of a curiosity as it was.

That had been Tyrion's advice to him.

Jon felt exhausted. The combination of food and the warmth of the great hall was lulling him to sleep, regardless of the noise level. He hadn't really stopped moving since he'd retuned to the past, always moving, planning and plotting in order to be ready for what was to come. Jon desperately just wanted a few days where he could just sit still and do nothing.

"Have we been here long enough for your father's satisfaction that nothing is amiss? I'm desperate for my bed Tyrion." Jon was almost begging Tyrion to tell him he could go.

Tyrion shot a look at where his father was sitting. He was deep in discussions with Ned, Robert, Stannis and Keven. He wouldn't notice if they left now for Tyrion was feeling the same as Jon.

"Yes, we can go now. He's thoroughly distracted, he won't notice."

With quick good nights to those who sat around them Jon and Tyrion quickly moved out of the great hall and towards their rooms in the family quarters where Tyrion had also been re-housed when they returned to Winterfell.

Neither one of them felt inclined to fill the silence. It had been a stressful day for both of them and both were deep in thought as they got closer to Jon's room when they heard a noise.

They crept forward on silent feet, keeping watch on the shadows as they went. They rounded the corner into the hallway that housed Jon's room. The only light came from a torch at the opposite end of the hall. They stopped as a shadowy figure once again tried to open the locked door to Jon's room.

They moved forward again, Jon was silently studying the figure as they once again tried and failed to open the door, but something was off. The figure's movements were jerky, as if they were in a daze and not the smooth movements of someone who knew what they were doing. The person looked familiar but in the shadows, he couldn't be sure who it was until the clouds that covered the moon cleared and a shaft of moonlight pierced through the window illuminated the hallway and the figure in full detail.

"Gendry" Jon breathed out in surprise as he saw who it was.

He got a good look at Gendry's face and saw that it was slack and non-responsive. His eyes were open but they were fixed and had a far-away look to them and they lacked their usual spark.

Gendry's actions were not the actions of a fully conscious man. He was dressed for bed and had no shoes on, his dirty feet attested to the fact that he had left his bed walked to Jon's room from his own located in the residential quarters of the smithy.

"He's sleepwalking!" Tyrion quietly exclaimed.

Jon knew that he was right as he had seen both Robb and Sansa do the same thing when they were little. It had scared Lady Cat almost to death when Sansa had been found on top of the outer ring wall clad only in her nightdress and without a clue as to how she had gotten there in the first place.

"Let me deal with this. He could cause you some serious harm without realizing it to Tyrion. I'm bigger and a lot quicker than you, he'll have a harder time accidently hurting me."

Tyrion nodded in agreement and dropped back behind Jon to observe.

"Gendry…"

Jon quietly spoke to him as he approached, making no sudden movement and he wouldn't even try to touch him until he was awake or he'd get hurt. He remembered that lesson from when Robb had accidently pushed him hard into the wall when he touched his shoulder to try to wake him.

Gendry acted as if he didn't hear him and kept persistently trying to open the door. He wouldn't be able to because it was locked and only Jon had the key. Something was up.

"Gendry…"

He tried again, a little louder this time and once again, Gendry ignored him. Jon decided to try something else he'd discover when he was a child. Sometimes, if you spoke to a sleepwalker, they would answer you without realising it.

"Gendry, why are you trying to get into my room?" Jon asked him in a normal voice, no longer quiet as that hadn't seemed to have worked.

Gendry grunted.

"Need to."

"Why do you need to?"

"Don't know. Just do."

"You don't know?"

Jon was starting to have an idea though.

"Don't know, just do. Need to be in there. Need to, need to, needs me, needs me, needs me…."

Jon had heard enough.

"GENDRY!" Jon shouted his name and smacked his hands together loudly.

Gendry jumped about a foot in the air as he came abruptly awake.

"Huh? What? Where am I? Lord Jon? What?"

He looked down at himself.

"Why are my feet dirty?"

Gendry was feeling very confused. The last thing he remembered was going to bed in his room but now he was somehow somewhere else he didn't know and had no memory of how he got here.

"Gendry, Gendry, calm down. You're fine. I think you had a sleepwalking episode." Jon tried to calm Gendry down and explain.

"What? Sleepwalking? I've never done that before in my life, not even as a child." Gendry quickly denied.

Jon looked hard at Gendry. He thought he knew why Gendry was here but he needed to be sure.

"Gendry, I'm going to ask you a question and I want you to answer it by telling me the first thing that comes to you. Don't think, just answer alright?"

Gendry was still feeling confused but nodded his head.

"Why do you need to go into that room?"

"It's calling me."

And that confirmed his suspicions.

Jon sighed and taking the key out of his pocket, unlocked the door and open it.

"You better come in."

Jon motioned for Tyrion to join them and entered his room, turning to observe Gendry as he entered. Gendry's head automatically turned to two chests, one resting on each side of the fireplace in his room.

Jon and Tyrion's eyes met and Jon saw the understanding in Tyrion's. He jerked his head, indicating for Tyrion to close and lock the door and turned his gaze back to Gendry.

"Go on then." He gave his permission.

With one last glance at Jon, Gendry shot over to the chest on the left hand side, trying to open it. Jon walked over to join him, removing a chain from around his neck with two keys dangling from it.

"Allow me." He said.

He unlocked the chest and stood back, watching as Gendry's hands rested on the lid, but not opening it just yet.

"What's in there?"

"I think you already know Gendry, or you'd not be here now."

Gendry opened the lid.

Three dragon eggs glittered in the light of the fire. One was bronze with grey flecks of colour pattern throughout it. The next was green with specks of blue and the third was red with gold streaks running through its shell.

Jon could hear it now.

"He calls for you Gendry. Claim him."

Gendry picked up the bronze and grey speckled egg.

"Damn. I forgot he's got Targaryen blood. His great grandmother I believe on his father's side." Tyrion mutter just loud enough for Jon to hear.

"Why isn't it stone?" Gendry's voice floated across the room for them to hear.

"We found them in a sealed vault. There were markings around the door that I think were a spell of preservation as far as I can tell. Whatever it was, it kept the eggs from turning to stone as they aged. These are…fresh…I guess would be the most apt description." Tyrion explained to him.

"Why do you have them?" He asked as Jon closed the lid and locked it again. Jon gave him a fond smile as he watched Gendry cradle his egg as if it was a human baby.

"You know we went to Valyria. We were exploring and stumbled across a hatchery. These and a few other things were all that was left. The time is coming when dragons will once again fly over the lands, better that the eggs are here with us, protected from who would try to hatch them for evil purpose." Tyrion once again explained.

"Hatch them! Only a Targaryen can do that!" Gendry exclaimed.

"Quiet! We don't know who's skulking around and no, Targaryen's are not the only ones who can do that. Anyone with enough valyrian blood in their veins and a little magic can hatch them. It's just ever since the Doom, the Targaryen's have been busy telling anyone who would listen their version of the truth about dragons. Mostly to make sure others wouldn't try to hatch their own dragons to challenge them I'm sure. Anyway, most of what they knew about dragons was wrong. They were a lesser family among the Dragonlords so that's not much of a surprise." It was Jon's turn to explain.

"Actually Jon, I read something I think you'll find rather interesting. While only those of Valyrian decent can hatch them, the dragon itself won't necessarily choose a rider of Valyrian decent. The treaties I read on the bond between a dragon and its rider states that the dragon will choose its rider. There were unbounded dragons in Valyria and it was speculated that those who didn't choose a rider out of those presented to it, was that their riders were either not born yet or not Valyrian blood. The bond can't be forced between dragon and rider. A dragon must choose his rider, not the other way round."

Jon's eyes lit up.

"So that's why I feel like the other eggs reject me. Oh they tolerate me handling them but every time I touch them, I get the strangest feeling of…wrong. That's the only way I can describe it."

"What about your egg? What does that feel like?"

Jon grinned.

"Like coming home. It's the same type of feeling I had with Ghost only draconic in nature. Gods I miss him. I miss Ghost."

"What are you both talking about milords? Who's Ghost? Why do you have a dragon egg Lord Jon? Why do I have a dragon egg? You're both talking but you're not really saying anything!"

Jon and Tyrion flinched badly. They had gotten careless but who could have known that Gendry of all people would be able to bond with a dragon of all things!

"He deserves to know Jon."

"I know but it's not our place to tell him."

"Jon, you've been where he is. You know better than anyone how it feels not to know who you are."

Jon sighed and walked over to the fireplace. He bent down a little and stretched his arm up into the chimney shaft all the way to his shoulder.

Gendry yelped in concern.

"Lord Jon! The fire!"

Jon just grinned at him and removed his arm from the shaft. In his hand sat a large covered egg shaped bundle. He walked over to where Tyrion and Gendry were sitting on his bed, placed the bundle on the floor so the ash on the eggs covering wouldn't spoil his bed and held out his hands to Gendry for inspection.

Gendry grabbed at Jon's hand inspecting it closely with wide eyed shock.

"Targaryen blood. It can make some of us fireproof. See," he said as he wiggled his fingers in front of Gendry's face. "No burns."

Gendry's face currently resembled a fish out of water.

Jon knelt down and started to unwrap his own egg.

"You're a blacksmith, burns are a part of daily life for you yet you have no scars or burn marks that I can see. So either you're incredibly lucky or your great grandmother's blood flows strong in you, like my father's blood flows strong in me. I think this makes us cousin somewhere along the line. Tyrion, what do you think?"

"I think so yes. Third or fourth cousins possibly. I'd have to check."

Poor Gendry was lost again.

Jon stood up with his egg in his hand. It was a metallic grey in colour, almost the same shade as valyrian steel. It even had a similar wave pattern that valyrian steel had once it had been properly forged but in a silver colour.

"That's beautiful." Gendry breathed in appreciation.

"Thank you. So is yours."

Gendry got up the courage to ask the question he'd been secretly longing to know the answer to for most of his life.

"Who is my father? You know who he is don't you?"

Tyrion looked at Jon and indicated that he should answer this question.

"Yes Gendry, we do."

Jon gently handed his egg to Tyrion who held onto it with delight. He wanted to be ready for whatever reaction Gendry had.

"Your father is Robert Baratheon, the current King."

"…"

"Gendry are you alright?"

"Huh."

Gendry just sat there. He wasn't sure how he felt about the revelation of who his father was. He had suspected that his father might have been of the nobility; Master Tobho wouldn't have taken him on if his father had been just a normal person.

But the King?

He wasn't sure how to handle that.

"This doesn't really change anything does it though? I'm still a bastard, just a royal one whose father doesn't know or care that I exist."

Jon shook his head.

"Actually Gendry, you'll find that the egg in your arms is what will make the difference here. You're a Dragonrider, or you will be once he's hatched and grown enough." He said tapping Gendry's egg for emphasis on how much his life would change.

"It's also the biggest problem because they will hatch; we weren't lying when we said that the time for dragons to own the skies again will soon be upon us. Well it will be a problem for me, not so much for you I think." Jon grimaced as he said that.

"I don't understand milord."

"Call me Jon, please. I was a bastard just like you not that long ago so I'm still not used to being called Lord." Jon asked him.

"Gendry, what I'm about to tell you, you cannot tell anyone. Not a single soul. Do you think you can keep a secret of that magnitude?" Jon had to ask him.

Gendry looked at Jon and then down at the egg in his arms. He was already going to have to keep a large secret. King Robert didn't look kindly on those who were associated with anything to do with dragons, both the animal and human kinds.

"I can." He simply replied.

"I am not the son of Eddard Stark. I am the son of his sister Lyanna Stark."

Gendry's jaw dropped open in shock. He knew the story as well as anyone!

"Your father is Rhaegar Targaryen?" He whispered, hoping no one could overhear him.

"Yes."

Gendry gulped as he realised something else.

"My father killed yours!"

Jon nodded with a grim look on his features.

"He did."

"Are you going to kill me?" He asked in a small voice.

Jon looked at him in horror.

"What? No! Of course not! Why on earth would you think that?"

Gendry slumped in relief.

"I'm sorry. It was a stupid question. Ignore me Jon, I'm just a stupid bull, like your sister says" Gendry apologised.

"It's alright Gendry. I probably would have asked the same thing if I were in your shoes. Actually, I am in your shoes, only difference is that your father actually wants to kill me…if he knew I existed that is." Jon groused in good humour, trying to put Gendry at his ease and succeeded as Gendry chuckled at his plight.

Jon gave him a sly smile, remembering what he'd said about Arya.

"Arya been teasing you again hasn't she?" He asked with a grin.

Gendry blushed just a little.

"Sometimes. It's her favourite insult for me, Stupid Bull. She normally uses it when she thinks she's losing whatever argument we're having at the time. Or if I say something to embarrass her. Or if I call her my Lady. Actually, she uses it a lot." Gendry returned Jon's grin.

Both Jon and Tyrion laughed.

"That's my little sister. She was always one for insults when she's on the losing end of something. She's a bit of a sore looser if you hadn't figured it out yet."

This time all three of them laughed together.

"Do you have somewhere you can hide your egg Gendry? Or would you rather I keep it here with mine?" Jon asked wondering if it was a good idea to let the egg leave his room just now with Robert and Tywin in residence.

Gendry thought hard.

"No. I think it would be best if I leave it here with you until the King leaves Winterfell. I can still come and visit him can't I? Will you allow that milord?"

Jon rolled his eyes as Gendry call him Lord yet again.

"I think that would be wise and of course you can come and see him. We'll have to be careful about the visits but I think we can arrange something. Have you thought of a name for him yet?"

"No not yet but how do you know it's a he?"

Jon stared off into space.

"I don't know, I just do. Like I know that my egg is female, I don't know how I know, I just…know."

Gendry nodded his head. He thought he understood. He too could feel something from his egg, he just didn't know what it was yet.

"Will he be warm enough in the chest?"

"He should be but if you're worried, I can hide him in the same place I hide mine."

"Could you please? I'd feel better knowing he's safe and warm here in your care." Gendry asked him as he reluctantly handed his egg to Jon.

"Hard to let go isn't it?"

Gendry's face was pensive.

"Yeah it is. I should go." He said.

"Wait a moment." Jon told him as he hurried over to the cabinet he used to keep his outdoor wear in. He searched around for a few moments and finally emerged with an outdoor cloak in his hands. He looked at the cloak and then Gendry, measuring his height and size in his mind against the cloak in his hands.

"It's not perfect, but it'll do for now. You'll stick out like a sore thumb if you walk around in just your night shirt." Jon said as he handed Gendry the not quite big enough cloak. It would be enough to get him back to his quarters without undue notice. He looked down at Gendry's dirty feet.

"Sorry, but I don't think my shoes will fit you." He apologised.

"That's fine milord, you've been more than generous, besides I'm a former street rat from Kings Landing, having no shoes is normal where I come from. The only difference between here and there is the cold."

Gendry flung the cloak over his board shoulders, trying to cover as much of himself as possible.

"What do you think?" He asked them.

"It's not as bad as I thought. It'll certainly see you through to your quarters. Tyrion, could you show Gendry to the door closest to the smithy? I don't think Gendry knows where that is." Jon said as Gendry nodded his head in agreement with Jon.

"I would be happy to show you how to get there Gendry. That way you can use it to sneak back in here to visit you egg. Jon, what time do you think we'll leave tomorrow?" He asked.

"I'm not sure. Depend on what how early our fathers speak together."

"Knowing my father, it'll be early."

"Then most likely an hour before the midday meal. They won't want to eat before or after seeing what father's been hiding." Jon replied.

Tyrion shuddered, remembering his reaction the first time he saw a wight.

"Good point. In that case I shall wish you a pleasant sleep. Goodnight Jon."

"Goodnight Tyrion, Gendry."

"Night milord."

Silence descended on the room as the door closed.

Jon rubbed his tired eyes. He was truly exhausted and had experienced too many shocks to his system today as it was and tomorrow would prove to be another long day.

Jon turned to his bed, the dragon eggs glittering innocently in the firelight, taunting him.

By the Old Gods and the New, why did his life have to be so complicated? It had been bad enough the first time around but now?

If Jon ever met the God or Gods of Fate and Destiny, he was going to kill them.

Slowly.