295 AC - Beyond The Wall

Jon's POV

For the past few days, Ghost had become overly agitated. His wolf wasn't violent, but he'd caught Ghost staring longingly out at the land beyond the wall more than once. Ghost had also been sleeping less and was more likely to growl at passing Watch members.

He'd been wondering if Ghost longed for freedom beyond the wall, and after a third day of Ghost's attitude he'd gone to the Lord Commander to ask permission to go beyond the wall. The man had sat on the request for a day, before summing him back to the Lord Commander Solar and approving the request.

All of this had led to now. Ghost had been ecstatic, putting his nose to the ground immediately. He'd followed his wolf for a good few minutes before nodding and trying to turn back.

Ghost had not been pleased. The wolf grabbed his arm and pulled him deeper into the woods. However, now he was doing so at a jog. Keeping up was unpleasant.

"Ghost, what the hell!"

The wolf said nothing, not that he expected a verbal response. Instead, Ghost seemed to be going faster.

Finally, they stopped at the edge of a large open field next to a large hill. He turned back. The wall was definitely still visible, but no longer looming. They'd been walking for at least an hour if not several. He'd spend the rest of the day going back. Thorne would not be pleased, seeing as he had chores he needed to do this afternoon.

"Ghost, why did you do that?"

The wolf stayed silent, but his eyes were fixed on the hill. The small bond he knew existed with the wolf, though he'd never verbally confirm it with anyone, was teeming with excitement. Even without the bond, he could tell Ghost was excited. His tail was wagging, his ears perked up, and he was dancing in place. In any other situation, Ghost's behavior would have been funny. Now, it just made him a little worried.

He was right to be worried. The loud pounding comes from ahead of them, like heavy footsteps that belonged to a giant. Snow falls from the tree branches. He takes a few steps back, but Ghost takes off instead.

He sees it a second later. The head of an impossible beast. The head of a dragon.

It comes over the hill and it is unnaturally huge. He's never seen any of the Dragon skeletons he knows are in King's Landing, but he'd read some books about dragons. He doesn't think that any of the Targaryen dragons were this large.

The ground shakes as the large black form moves towards him.

Ghost is still moving toward the head, but he was frozen. Running didn't seem like the thing to do, but staying put didn't feel right either.

The dragon stops in the middle of the field and Ghost meets it. His wolf is jumping up to try to sniff the large head, which had fixed its gaze on him. Without looking away, the head lowers to the ground for Ghost to sniff.

As if in a trance, he takes careful steps toward the unnaturally large head. He couldn't look away from the green eyes, the same color as the wildfire drawn in books.

He remembers the odd feeling in the back of his mind the first time he looked at Ghost. The bond that formed between the two of them. Old Nan had talked about such things in her stories, about Wargs and Skinchanging. How the Starks of old would bond with direwolves, and others would bond with dogs or ravens. Something like that was happening with the dragon.

Finally, he was within reach of the snout. He pulls off his glove and places a shaking hand on the lower jaw. The dragon's eyes finally close with his touch and what sounds like purring comes from its chest.

His hand continues to rub the dragon's jawline, as he looks across the body. The scales are as black as coal, without a single scar in place. The sun glistened along its body and off the spikes. The dragon was beautiful.

A trill of pride runs through the back of his mind. He instantly knows that it's the dragon's pride.

Ghost is still sniffing the dragon, but he'd made it halfway down the body by now.

"How are you even alive?"

He doesn't know how to describe the feeling that comes across the bond, but he knows the answer to his question. Magic.

The bond was different than the one with Ghost. That bond was stronger at night when he watched through Ghost's eyes as he hunts or explored. He wakes up with the scent of dirt and pine in his nose, and the taste of blood on his tongue. He wonders if he'll be able to see through the dragon's eyes as it flies.

"How are you even this big?"

Again, he just knows the answers. This dragon was old, centuries old, 448 years old. That shouldn't be possible. Balerion was only just over 200.

"How did you know I was here?"

This time, the head turned slightly so the jaw was pushing against my chest. Its gaze was fixed on Ghost, who was down to the tail.

"You talk to Ghost?"

The dragon looks back at him and blinks. The same mental messages tell him that the two do communicate.

"I suppose I should ask your name?"

This time a name floats across the bond. Cannibal. There's a tinge of displeasure across the bond at the name.

"I suppose you need a proper name. What about Corras? Does that sound alright to you?" Pleasure runs across the bond once again. I stroke its snout.

I frown at that thought. Calling the dragon before him an it seemed rude. "Do you have a gender? All the books say you don't."

There's a thrum of laughter this time, but just like every other time he asks a question, he knows the answer. Corras is a female dragon.

Ghost finally seems satisfied with sniffing the dragon and returns to his side. Corras, in return, lowers her front wing. Ghost immediately starts climbing up the wing to the back of her neck.

"I suppose you want me to get on too?" No mental response this time, instead she pushes him toward her wing with her head.

He doesn't hesitate to climb on. Riding a dragon was every kid's dream and he was living it.

It's only when he is down hours later, and waking back to Castle Black with a promise to return, that the situation truly settles in.

He had just ridden a dragon. Only the Targaryens of old, or those of their bloodlines could ride dragons. For him to ride a dragon, he must have Valyrian blood in his veins. There was only one Valyrian woman alive during the Rebellion, and she had already been pregnant. Besides, when and why would Ned Stark have sex with Rhaella Targaryen? Most of the dragon seeds had died during the Blackfyre wars, Aerys had killed off his mistress and no children were ever reported. No, he knew who his mother was, and that just made him angrier. The only way this made sense is if his Aunt Lyanna was his mother.

Lord Stark never specified what kind of fever claimed his sister's life in Dorne, but the birthing bed was known to claim many lives, even with a Maester around to care for the mother.

There was only one person who could confirm this, and that was Lord Stark, and he knew the man would never.

Unless?

Aemon Targaryen might be old and blind and stuck up here, but the Maester might have the answers he seeks.

With a slightly quicker step, he makes his way back to Castle Black.

Maester Aemon's eyes are unseeing, focusing on something over my shoulders, but the Maester's hands still find my face easily.

"You say you have the look of a Stark, but only slightly. You have Benjen's long face, but my brother's chin and nose. Rhaegar's cheeks were just like yours too!" A heart laugh accompanies the statement. "Your eyes are shaped just like my nieces'. You might have your mother's eyes and hair, but you have the Targaryen face. How did you figure this out? You've been here for weeks and just now seek me out. You don't sound like a man who's been waiting to see me, no, you sound like someone who just learned something. So, what did you learn?"

I open and close my mouth. "I-Ghost dragged me out to a field earlier today. He knew she was there. I don't know how, but he knew her."

"Who is her?"

"A dragon." He wonders if the man hears his whispered answer. He's silent for a solid minute.

"The dragons are dead."

"Not this one, and she's huge."

"What did she look like?"

"Black, like coal, but with bright green eyes."

"It sounds like the Cannibal, but that dragon is long dead."

"It's her. Cannibal, but she doesn't like the name. It's Corras."

"Cannibal would be almost 300 years old now, dragons don't live that long."

"She's older, almost 450 years old."

"How do you know that?"

"I-What do you know about warging?"

"It's an ability that those descended from the First Men are said to have. I've heard of wildlings having unnatural connections with birds, but nothing south of the wall."

"I can warg with Ghost. The bond Corras and I have is different but similar. She didn't talk to me, but I'd ask a question and I'd just know the answer."

"This is unheard of." His tone is cautious, but not disbelieving.

"You believe me?"

"I'm almost 100 years old, I know when men are lying or when they are mad. You don't sound like either."

I nod but don't say anything.

"You have questions about him, don't you?"

"Why did he take her?" I don't have to say the names for Aemon Targaryen to understand my question.

"Rhaegar wrote to me often. Elia could not have any more children after Aegon. Aerys was displeased and spoke of disinheriting Rhaegar and his children. Rather than risk Elia's life, my nephew started to look for a second wife. Lyanna Stark did something at Harrenhal, all those years ago, that caught his attention. She dressed as the Knight of the Laughing Tree and competed in the Tourney." Aemon sighs and seems to suddenly look his age again. "Your mother wanted to escape a marriage her family was forcing her into and Rhaegar needed a second wife to give him more children. Elia was in agreeance with the marriage, she confirmed this in a letter to me, to soothe my worries. So long as her son remained heir, she would have no objections. Besides, Viserys was already showing signs of madness, even at his young age. Rhaegar worried about his sanity and for the Kingdom if his younger brother were to be made King. One does not commit regicide unless they are next in line for the throne. A second wife and additional children made everyone safer. I don't know what happened next, but word spread of Rhaegar kidnapping Lyanna. Brandon and Rickon Stark died trying to bring her home. Suddenly there was war and the truth didn't matter."

"No, I suppose it didn't."

"He married her. On the Isle of Faces. It was the last letter I received from your father before the war broke out and he died. He told me he believed Lyanna was carrying his child. His Visenya. Your mother, however, demanded he pick a male name. She was sure she was carrying a boy. Jaehaerys is what he decided upon."

Silence fills the room. Only the crackling of the fire fills the silence.

"What are you going to do?"

I shrug at his words, forgetting the man could not see. "I don't know. Eddard Stark's bastard wanted to join the wall to gain a sense of honor, but there is nothing for me here. I don't even know why Lord Stark was so set on me coming here."

"Years ago I told Egg, my brother, something. Kill the Boy, Egg. Kill the boy and let the man be born. So, let me say it to you. Kill the Boy, Jaehaerys. Kill the boy and let the man be born."

"Where would I go? I don't want war."

"Essos is always an option."

"I suppose."

Aemon leans back in his chair. "You could go West? Our Ancestors always spoke about going West and mapping the unknown."

"West?" Two nudges fill the back of his mind. "Corras seems to agree, and so does Ghost."

Aemon laughs, much more lively this time. "I wouldn't disagree with either beast. However, you will need something." He turns in his seat. "Under my mattress, there's two packages, grab them for me."

I go to where he points and pull out the packages. They're swords. I recognize both hilts. "How do you have these?"

"My Uncle Brandon Rivers left Dark Sister and Blackfyre in my possession years ago before he went beyond the wall. He left a fake with Bittersteel. He was a greenseer, not a dragon dreamer. Must have been his mother's blood that gave him those abilities. He told me that I'd know when they should return to House Targaryen. He was right."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you think they should stay here, with me at the Wall?"

"Well, I-"

"Take the swords. Better they stay with you than rust away hidden at the Wall. Besides, I will not have Robert Baratheon have possession of either of those swords. Eventually, old age will claim me and those swords will be found. Any man here will bring those swords to King's Landing for a pardon."

"Fair."

The man pushes on my arm. "Sleep, Jaehaerys. Tomorrow, collect your thoughts and then tell the Lord Commander your decision. However, you must say goodbye to your Uncle if you decide to go. A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing, but your dragon and your wolf will lessen that pain."

"You're leaving?" Lord Commander Mormont's shock is not easily hidden. "Did you have some kind of spiritual retreat in those woods yesterday?"

"Something like that, and some really good advice. My place is not here, I can't stay."

The man sighs. "You haven't sworn your vows yet, you're welcome to leave. It's a pity though, you would have made an excellent Lord Commander."

"The wall isn't going anywhere."

A small laugh escapes him. "I suppose it's not. How soon?"

"Today."

"I'll have your horse prepared."

"No. I won't need the horse. She's from White Harbor, a garrison. You could sell him to one of the houses near here for a fair amount. Consider it thanks for housing and feeding me these past few weeks."

"And how will you be leaving?"

"I can't tell you that."

The man stares at me, forcing me to hold his gaze. "You're different than you were two days ago when you asked me to go beyond the wall. What happened to you?"

"I figured some things out."

The man shrugs. "Anything else?"

I hold out a letter. "When my Uncle Benjen returns, can you give this to him? I would like to explain things to him personally, but I'm not sure how much longer he'll be gone. I won't impose on you that long and I don't think I can wait weeks or months."

The Lord Commander takes the letter. "I'll give it to Benjen, you have my word."

"Thank you, Lord Commander."

"Good luck to you, Jon Snow, wherever it is that you end up."