Ned
"My father and my brother died in this reeking city. Will I die here too?"
Coming south was an ill omen for the Starks. His father, Brandon, Lyanna…. learned it the fatal way. It was not lost on Ned that he was in the same perilous position they were in. "Brotherhood or no, I might be riding to my death." It was that thought alone that made him leave Jory and most of his household guards at Winterfell. If he was to die here, then he would leave his family the best of the best.
"Has he come to learn the truth about Jon? But that is impossible. Howland would never tell a soul about Lyanna's child. But what else would he command me to come to Kingslanding on a whim?" The mere thought of Jon made his heart clench. Jon was nowhere to be found. Ned raised hell all over the north to search for the boy, but not a trace of him was found. The failure brought tears to his eyes for many nights. It did not compare to the raging emotions Arya had. Ever since Jon disappeared, Arya had been lost and angry. Everyone in her capacity received her wrath. Her spat with Robb and Catelyn was the most memorable.
"It's your fault stupid!" Arya had snapped at Robb over supper. It had been random and gathered everyone's attention, even Rickon.
Robb had been startled. "What did you say?"
"I said, it's your fault that Jon is gone!"
"It is not!"
"It is so! He ran away because of you! You didn't have to call Jon a bastard just because he kicked your butt! He's our brother, why would you do that?" There had been tears brimming in Arya's grey eyes.
Robb's face had been devastated. Ned knew he felt responsible for Jon's disappearance and did his most to help Ned scour the north to find the grey-eyed boy.
Arya then whipped her teary fury to Catelyn and said, "It's your fault too! You always treated Jon like horse dung just because he didn't come from you. Why couldn't you treat him like you treat us? I-I-I-it's unfair!"
"Ary-"
"I hate you! I hate all of you!"
Sansa had gasped in shock. Bran stared at his plate and didn't make any eye contact.
"Arya, that's enough," Ned had ordered firmly. Arya had stared at him defiantly.
Rickon tapped Arya on the arm. "Do you hate me too?"
"YES!" Arya had then run out of the hall, leaving them in a state of contemplation and with Rickon bawling his eyes out.
Ned looked upon the memory with shame. "Even with the new Direwolves, she is still solemn and shut off from the world." Riding back from executing the deserter from the Night's Watch, happening to come upon the Direwolves had been an unexpected surprise. He all but hoped that there were six wolves instead of five around the mother's carcass. He secretly wanted to give one to Jon when he was found, to show him he would always be part of the pack. He had searched personally. But it was all for naught.
"I have failed you, Lyanna. I am so sorry for shaming your memory and breaking the promise I swore to you."
"You must protect him…. Promise me, Ned. Promise me," Lyanna had murmured from her deathbed long ago. Ned can remember the smell of Winter roses and blood. Most of all, he remembers the fear in her eyes – not for herself but for her son. Even with her last breath, she was not scared to die. No, she was scared of Robert getting his hands on the child she died to bring to the world. The most sickening part was how her grey eyes had softened, of how she accepted her death after Ned gave her his word, and how he would love Jon and protect him like he was his own.
"I have failed you, Jon." His throat was constricted. "I have not paid attention to you as I should have. We all should be at Winterfell at this very moment as a family, but you ran away because you felt like you were an outsider because you thought you were just a bastard…. When I find you, I will explain everything. I will make it right."
"I promise…"
Ned had rode from Winterfell to White harbor and taken a ship to Kingslanding. The skies were good, and the wind was better and now Ned forlornly watched as the red walls of the Red Keep grew larger and larger. "I have memories of this place and none of them are good." Ned had his first taste of the vile city when he rode with the army behind his back after the victory on the Trident. Robert had taken an injury from Rhaegar Targaryen and sent him to take the city instead.
…Only, Tywin Lannister had beaten him there. Ned arrived through the gates to see the city had been sacked. Smoke and fire gripping the city. Men slaughtered. Women were raped in their homes. Children crying underneath their beds.
He found Jaime Lannister in the throne room and sitting on the monstrous Iron Throne, shining in his golden armor, blood dripping from his gilded sword. Aerys Targaryen lay dead on the floor not too far away. Ned still remembered the arrogant smile Jaime had.
Not too long after that, Tywin Lannister presented the mangled and bloody body of Elia Martell before Robert…...
…...With no sight of her children Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen.
It was soon told to them that instead of being at the Trident with Rhaegar, Arthur Dayne had been tasked by the prince to defend his children. There were multiple eyewitnesses of Arthur Dayne slashing his way through Lannister soldiers with his great sword Dawn while the little Rhaenys followed cradling the baby Aegon in her arms. They managed to find a boat somehow and disappeared from the face of the earth.
Ned had been relieved while Jon Arryn had been contemplative, and Robert had been wrathful.
"What do you mean they bloody escaped?" Robert had demanded of Tywin. His roar had bounced off the walls of the throne room.
"They escaped," Tywin had simply stated in that cold voice of his, untouched by Robert's anger. "My men Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch found Elia Martell but not the children. I am told that Arthur Dayne escaped with them."
Robert's face had reddened like a fresh tomato. "Well? Where the hell did, they go?"
"No one knows."
"You have had Elia Martell murdered, why? There was no point," Ned had asked of Tywin.
Ned was still able to recall how Tywin turned his cold green eyes to him and said, "Casualties cannot be controlled. This is war."
Robert had wanted to track down Arthur and the children to put them to the sword and asked Ned to assist. Disgusted, Ned refused him. "I will not kill children. The boy I grew up with wouldn't either," Ned had told him. A terrible row had ensued. Jon Arryn had to hold the cursing Robert back as Ned left. It was only after Ned returned with Lyanna's bones did they rekindle their friendship. Though the shadow of Aegon and Rhaenys loomed over them heavily. No one knows where they have gone. Jon Arryn traveled to Dorne to placate them after Elia's death, but not a whisper of the Targaryen children was heard.
"Doran Martell has hidden them well like I have with Jon," Ned thought warily. "He will not let his sister's children be murdered no matter how he preaches ignorance of their whereabouts."
His time of brooding was cut short when they reached the loading docks. The sails were taken down, and Ned and his company moved out of the ship and surveyed their surroundings. Their musing was cut short by the rattling chainmail of the gold cloaks. They arrived on their whickering horses, their golden armor gleaming in the sun.
"Ned Stark, by the order of the king you will come with us," the middle-mounted man stated. Another gold cloak reigned over another horse for him.
That was how Ned found himself being marched over the drawbridge and over the moat into Maegor's keep. His men had been separated from him on the way here. He was drowning amongst strangers the colors of red and gold. He did not know them and so didn't they. They marched him to his death and was only following their orders.
Outside the king's solar was Jaime Lannister himself. The man still wore his golden armor with the snow-white kingsguard cape pinned to his shoulders. As always, the son of Tywin looked to not have a single care in the world. Jaime perked up when he saw Ned. His face bore a sharp smile. "Eddard Stark."
"Kingslayer," Ned responded tersely. "This man stabbed his king that he swore an oath to protect and laughed at his corpse.
Jaime showed the barest of his clean white teeth. "I did not think ole honorable Eddard Stark had it in him to betray the king, no less to the man he claims is his best friend. The world is truly coming to an end."
"He knows…they all know."
His heart sped.
Jaime's smile widened. His catlike green eyes laughed at him. Ned despised those eyes. "Go to hell, Kingslayer."
The door to the king's chamber opened. Ned cautiously walked in. The room was dim and silent. The only source of light came from the big window behind the desk. And that was where Robert Baratheon stood, peering outside, hands clasped behind his back. His immense Warhammer was propped up against the desk, Ned noted warily.
"You have not changed after all these years. Arthur Dayne and Rhaegar's children must have kept you up many nights."
Robert had been fearsome that fated day on the Trident and even more fearsome now. The Baratheon had somehow increased his muscle mass. His broadness seemed to fill in the whole room.
"You are ready for war again. But can I blame you? It's almost a given the boy Aegon would rally to take back the throne for House Targaryen. It's a matter of when."
"Sit," Robert commanded, not turning away from the window.
Ned stayed where he was.
"Sit, I said, damn you!"
Ned reluctantly sat in the chair and waited.
He stared at Robert's hulking back as the king collected his thoughts.
"Other than war plans, Robert thinking is never a good thing."
"Jon Arryn died," Robert said finally.
"…...How?" Ned asked, startled and dismayed. "He was like a father to me. Instead of giving us up to Aerys, he raised his banners instead. He was a good and honest man."
"Bloody hell do I know. The fever took him. One day he was as spring as me, the next he lay there dying. I have never seen anything like it. Even though he pestered me to no fucking end, I'll miss that old fart. We would have never defeated the Targaryens without him. I loved him." And now Robert turned around, a look of absolute fury on his face. "And by me honoring his memory is the only reason I have not smashed your fucking skull in with my hammer."
"Rob-"
A parchment was rudely thrown at him, smacking his face and landing on his lap. It was severely crumbled as if Robert had crushed it in fury. Ned tentatively picked up the parchment and read it slowly and carefully.
"No…. No…. No…...This…...This is impossible!"
"This is madness!" Ned announced. "How can you believe this rubbish, Robert?"
"Rubish? Rubish?" Robert's voice grew louder. "Rubish, is it? No, I think fucking not! It all makes sense now! You are a sneaky, backstabbing cold bastard! How could I ever think you of all people would father a bastard?"
"Because it is the truth," Ned responded tersely.
"STOP LYING TO ME!" In one quick motion, Robert grabbed his Warhammer and smashed the desk to pieces with one violent swing. Ned did not let himself flinch and stared at the king coldly.
Jaime peeked his head in.
"Get the fuck out!"
Jaime closed the door without a word.
Robert still gripped his Warhammer tightly, heaving, glaring murderously. Sweat breaded Ned's brow. Robert never directed this much anger at him before. It was honestly terrifying. "This is what Rhaegar must have felt."
"I have to convince him this is folly and quickly before he swings at me instead of at another piece of furniture."
"This is outrageous, Robert," Ned tried to explain. "To fall for this…. ploy is shameful. You will believe the word of this…. Euron Greyjoy that my bastard son is Rhaegar's offspring, and he is currently in Norvos with Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen? Have you gone mad? Isn't he the one who burned Tywin Lannister's fleet?"
"I wouldn't have believed it for a second if it wasn't for how specific it was. The bastard detailed your whole travel to Dorne and that blasted Tower of Joy. He listed the names of who rode with you, how you killed the kingsguard to the last man, the wetnurse who cared for the dragon spawn. The fucker even explained how many days it took!"
"It is all true. How could the Greyjoy possibly know all of this when he wasn't bloody there! He has it down to the littlest detail. And why does he care?" Ned kept his face neutral. "Sounds like a nice fantasy, Your grace."
Robert straightened up. "And I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't sent my spies to Norvos."
Ned stilled. "You did what?"
"I had to be absolutely sure this wasn't a trick to create a wedge between us and the North. And gods have it, my informants actually spotted the Targaryen fucks. Arthur Dayne too with that bloody sword of his. If that part in the letter is true…. what if the part about Jon Snow being one of them is bloody true as well?" Robert said dangerously.
"Oh no." This was quickly becoming a disaster. "That doesn't mea-"
"Shut the hell up!" Robert shook his head at him, blue eyes brimming with betrayal. "I never thought I would see you protecting the child Rhaegar created by raping my sweet Lyanna. You are no brother of mine. Jaime! Get your golden ass ready! We are going to Norvos!"
Jon/ Balerion
The slimy tendrils of black flame crawled through his being like a parasite, through his veins, through his bloodstream, and into his very exposed heart. His body protested against the foreign invasion and sent his entire nervous system into a blunder. It did not know what to do against the wickedness overcoming its defenses and rendering its functions worthless. Eventually, the evil of Balerion reached his very soul. It entered the door of his very spiritual consciousness and settled in with its own.
It was like welcoming another soul and merging it with your own. He wasn't just Jon. He wasn't just Balerion either. It was a process of finding the perfect balance to have both of them coexist. Balerion's spirit extended the force of its evil powers for dominance. The very essence of the Valyrian Gods' powers were fire and blood and the dark rituals to bond their souls with dragons and other creatures breathing fire. Jon's spirit fought tooth and nail to not give an inch. The ancient power in the bloodline of the Starks runs through Jon's soul and refused to be cowed by the power of the Valyrian's. The very essence of the old gods' powers was warging, nature, and sacrifice.
Life and death itself stopped having meaning. There was only fire and blood and death. Those elements slowly intertwined the two souls…...
…...and made them one.
It was a wave of energy, a wave of death, a wave of fire, a wave of destiny. And then there was harmony.
Jon opened his eyes and instantly knew everything was different now. Energy flowed freely in his veins.
"You are me…...and I am you…."
He slowly brought his hands up to his eye level. The gloves had completely burned away. He can feel the energy. He carefully flexed his hands and watched as a few sparks of heat flickered from his fingertips. Every time he curled his fingers, razor-sharp claws would appear. Every time he relaxed them, his fingers returned back to normal.
"We are one, as it was prophesied…."
The world seemed to quake as Jon rose to his full height. The power in his muscles begged to be freed. The ground looked farther away somehow. He realized he grew taller, five inches at least.
"The world….is ours."
Jon surveyed his surroundings and felt like everything around him was insignificant. "Where is Euron Greyjoy?"
Mutes and bones of the Valyrians littered the mountaintop. The monster spider laid not too far away, with numerous holes over its body. It was clear the battle raged on for hours. But there was no trace of the Greyjoy anywhere.
"He is alive…."
Jon felt…. indifferent about the Greyjoy. His past resentment of Euron felt childish in the grand scheme of things. "He brought me to this point. He made me more powerful than I could ever imagine. If I see him again, I will kill him. Not out of pettiness, just because I can prove that I am better than him," Jon thought coldly. "For your own good, stay out of my way…. father."
"Because there is only one God that is meant to be. And that is me."
Jon looked around at the bodies again and considered them.
"We can bring them back, better than they were before…..."
Jon knelt next to the still bones of the dragon. He softly touched the huge black skull. Black flame slithered from his fingers and crawled over the bones. There was a twitch, here and there. And then the skeletal dragon rose once again and gave a death rattle and flapped its ghostly wings.
"The prince that was promised to rid the world of its imperfections."
When he completed his task, Jon looked over the league of mindless mutes, skeletal Valyrians, and dragons he resurrected. "What Euron can do I can do far better," Jon thought darkly.
"All this time I've been hesitant to embark on this path, but why?
"We can now see clearly…"
"I feel….so powerful…. I feel so alive! What do honor and self-righteousness give me? It gives me nothing! Nothing but disdain and humiliation from those who turned up their noses at me. I am not the same bastard no more."
"No more."
"No more…."
"NO MORE!"
His glass eye under his eyepatch burned at his exclamation, at his anger, and at his vow. It burned so hot, and yet Jon could not feel pain from the heat any longer. It felt comforting. The view of the mountaintop slowly evaporated from his eye. The scene morphed into scenery Jon did not know. It was full of orchards, wildlife, and a rippling lake that glistened in the sun. It was peaceful, very at odds with the feelings raging within Jon.
"Father, Smith, Warrior. Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger," two voices said as one. "What the fuck is this?" Jon turned to the man and woman who stood before a tree and another man who simply watched. The man was tall, slender, and elegant. He was dressed in red and black garments, and his long hair was a beautiful silver blond.
"The boy is Valyrian…."
Jon narrowed his one eye. "Rhaegar."
"The little girl has the blood of the old gods…."
"Lyanna Stark," Jon said, putting it together at once.
"I am hers and she is mine…I am his and he is mine…from this day until the end of my days." Rhaegar and Lyanna leaned forward in a passionate kiss. They then put their foreheads together, looking into each other's eyes with love. "My dragon," Lyanna whispered.
Rhaegar caressed her neck softly. "My wolf," he whispered, even more softly.
"The whole rebellion was a lie…. Rhaegar didn't kidnap or raped her. They were in love," Jon thought quietly. "But why am I seeing this?"
"To finally see your truth…."
"My truth?"
The view changed again into something much direr – in a room of a tower where the heat and sandblasted from outside. The wailings of a baby hit him before the stench of blood did.
"Lord Stark."
Jon watched as the young Ned leaned over Lyanna who laid on a bed in a shower of winter roses and in a pool of her own blood. There was a crying bundle in Ned's arms which he tried to soothe between his own silent sobs.
Jon curled his fist tightly.
"Ned…."
"Stop talking. You must conserve your strength, little sister," Ned begged, tears streaking down his ashen cheeks. "You are going to be ok…."
Lyanna reached for his hand weakly. Ned quickly grabbed it with his free hand. "His name…. His name…. his name is Jaehaerys Targaryen…."
"You must protect him…... They would kill him. You know they would…..."
Tears glistened in Lyanna's own eyes as she begged. "Promise me, Ned…. Promise me…."
"…...Promise me…."
Those were her last words, and the scene slowly removed itself.
He was back again on the top of Mount Valyr.
And Jon stood still.
His dead minions stood behind him, eerily silent.
The black clouds above rumbled its wrath. Red and white lightning streaked into existence, brightening the whole world white for the briefest seconds before it dimmed again. Softly, droplets of rain escaped the clouds and hit the ground. Gradually, the rain upended and poured in fury.
On the ground, a pothole was filled to the brim with water. And Jon can see his reflection. He looked different. His dark brown hair now had streaks of silver in them. His face was sharper and more angular. His grey flashed to a deep purple whenever the world dimmed. As soon as the lightning strikes and the world became light, it was back to its usual grey.
Slowly, his image in the water transformed into Balerion. The God of death looked at him. "Targaryen…." It said, stretching its face with its horrible smile.
Jon looked up to the black sky, rain pouring into his face and into his one eye. Rage boiled in his gut. He hated everything.
He roared into the heavens. The heavens roared back with a clap of thunder.
Three eyed raven
"This…. this is disturbing." No, it was a problem. He did not plan it to be this way. No, Jon was supposed to be the hero the world needs to fight for the dawn. Not a monster, not to have one of the gods of Valyria in his soul. "No this was not what I had planned."
"Euron Greyjoy might like to think it was the shade of the evening that brought him to Jon. No…."
"…. It was me."
"The only hope the world has to defeat the Others was if Jon reached the full potential of his magical abilities, the song of ice and fire. The Greyjoy was needed. Prodding Euron in his dreams to find Jon was a necessary evil. But now…. I fear that I have mistakenly unleashed another evil on the world that can rival the destruction of the Others. I did not foresee the Valyrian God of death bonding its soul with Jon's. The Greyjoy was supposed to teach Jon all he knows and die in Old Valyria. Jon was supposed to come back to Westeros relatively sane but holding the knowledge of lost powers and Valyrian weapons on his back."
"It is best in everyone's interest that Jon and the Others destroy each other. If not, the world is doomed."
He sighed heavily. "I did not think I would have needed Brandon Stark in this reality, but I fear I have no choice in the matter." He opened his third eye and soared to Winterfell.
Arthur: Rate from 1-10 how much of a threat you think Jon will be for Westeros and Essos :) And do you think anyone could snap Jon out of the sprawling darkness he is in? What do you think are Jon's abilities now? Leave in the review section your thoughts and what more you would like to see in future chapters. Have a good day!