Jon wasn't the nervous type, not any more. He'd faced too many horrors to feel fear or nerves, yet here he was, standing outside Ned Stark's solar and he was sweating. The thought of using his blood to act with authority over Ned Stark felt uncomfortable. However he'd done it with Lords almost as powerful as his uncle and had never flinched. He simply needed to view Ned Stark as no different to Lord Royce, or any other Lord of the realm. All of which had listened to his own wise counsel.

"Come in." his uncle called out. They filed inside and sat down. "I think it's time you three explained yourselves."

Sansa started. "I'm sure you're wondering why the three of us have been acting... strangely since direwolves arrived." Ned nodded. "All three of us had an experience at the same time, Jon fell off his horse, I was bitten by Rickon and Arya suddenly felt ill and had a terrible cough attack, as you've noticed her voice has been somewhat hoarse ever since."

"I wasn't aware of your plights, but carry on." Ned looked at Sansa and Arya.

"These events seemed to trigger something, a knowledge of the future. One which we've all lived, and died, and returned here I suppose to change."

Jon knew now was the time to take over. "Lord Stark, I know you saw me fight earlier."

"I did."

"Do you think I would be capable of fighting like that without experience of battle?" he asked. Ned lowered his eyes.

"It could be taught, but I haven't seen skills on display like that since..."

"Since the day you found me?" Jon asked, Ned's eyes widened. "Aye, I know all about that and what happened. In quite a lot of detail." Ned suddenly looked uncomfortable, giving Jon confidence. "Before I fell off my horse, I was a King. The last thing to happen to me was falling from a dragon."

Ned huffed. "There are no dragons."

"Not yet, but three will hatch when the red comet comes. Forgive me, I digress. I was not given the title of King for my birthright, although as Rhaegar Targaryen's only surviving trueborn son, it is mine by rights. I was crowned King in the North by the northern Lords for my actions. Lady Sansa and I have been running the north for almost two years before our...deaths. My Lord, I am fully aware that your sister, Lyanna Stark was my mother and Rhaegar Targaryen was my sire. My name is Aegon Targaryen. Am I forgetting anything?"

Ned turned pale. "Anyone could guess that information about you if they thought about it."

"Even my real name?" Jon asked.

"In a few days, you will receive a raven from Kings Landing, telling you of the death of Jon Arryn. King Robert and his entourage will ride for Winterfell requesting you be his hand and for I to be betrothed to Joffrey. The letter will state a fever took him. It is a lie, Lord Baelish and aunt Lysa have conspired to kill him."

"This is madness," Ned shook his head.

"Oh I agree father." Arya said. "I have no idea how to act as an eleven year old child. I've done too much."

"Off to bed, all three of you. I have no wish to hear any more of this. You will speak to no one about Jon."

"We all have blood on our hands." Sansa said. "Even I have put men to death..."

"Enough!" Ned said.

Jon stood and placed his hands on Ned's desk, making himself appear more intimidating. He hated doing it, but occasionally it was a tactic he'd used, although not in the body of a sixteen year old. "The deserter you beheaded wasn't lying. He did see the whitewalkers. The army of the dead are gathering men. They will descend on Winterfell in around seven years. We must stop them. You don't have to believe us now Lord Stark, but I'm sure you will feel differently when you get the raven to tell you the news about Jon Arryn."

"When you receive the raven, I expect you to request our presence. Until then we will continue to be the people we are now. And I am to start training for the wars to come. I felt useless sitting in the crypts while everyone else was fighting. Robb has offered to teach me archery, which I believe mother will allow if Robb is in charge." Sansa said.

"You are just children..." Ned started.

"Really? Between us we have been raped, tortured, murdered. We have all done despicable things to survive." Sansa argued. "We are not children anymore. Jon is twenty four, I am twenty and Arya is eighteen. We all have blood on our hands, myself included. You do not have to believe us now. Do you promise to believe us if a raven arrives within the week to notify you of Lord Arryn's death?"

Ned looked at them all carefully. "Alright, I will believe you if what you say comes to pass." he agreed. "Just one question." he looked at Sansa and Jon. "You two have never been close, but I sense that has changed."

"When I was at my lowest point, Jon was the only person I had in the world who I could trust." she lowered her eyes. "That has not changed much. Now it is only Jon and Arya who I trust."

"I was the same." Jon agreed. "When the worst thing happened to me, it was Sansa who was there, who brought me to my senses. Gave me purpose. We bonded." Ned looked at them with some sort of trepidation which Jon couldn't understand.

"And no matter what mother tries to do, she will not keep us apart!" Sansa declared. Jon was proud of her, but he knew this could cause more arguments. It was clear, at some point Lady Stark would need to know some details, otherwise not even the Lady of Winterfell would be able to withstand her ire.

The next morning at breakfast, Jon could feel the keen eye of Ned Stark following the three of them. Jon, Robb and Theon were having a military history and planning lesson that morning and Lord Stark had decided to take an interest in overseeing it with Maester Luwin. Jon knew it was for him to prove he already had the skills to command large armies. As they engaged in their lesson, it became clear how much more experience Jon had at commanding armies. No matter how large the armies grew or the opposition changed, at the behest of Lord Stark and Maester Luwin, Jon was always able to outmanoeuvre them, whereas Robb and Theon were constantly outfoxed. They all seemed to defer to Jon as he took command of every situation, acting and reacting just like he had when he was commanding an army of over a hundred thousand different people; to Jon this was what he was doing only four days ago. It was still uncomfortably fresh in his mind. The lesson overran by more than an hour as they were all so engrossed, that they only finished when Lady Stark knocked on the door to see where they all were. When they all began to shuffle out, Ned held Jon back so they could speak in private.

Ned took a deep breath. "I'm not saying that I believe you..." he hesitated. "...your grace. But a man of your age and experience should not have been able to organise the strategy like you just did. How you commanded the room was that of someone who has seen battles and has commanded armies. How many men?" he asked.

"A hundred thousand Dothraki, thirty thousand northerners and vale Lords, eight thousand Unsullied and two dragons." Jon lowered his eyes. "It wasn't enough. The army of the dead had already recruited too many."

"How?" Ned asked.

"By destroying the Freefolk." Jon explained. "Right now, Mance Rayder is uniting the clans from north of the wall. They want to seek shelter, but we got it wrong and slaughtered thousands. By the time we realised our mistake and tried to evacuate the Freefolk south, it was too late. Mance had gathered an army of a hundred thousand, just a few months later there were only two thousand fighting men left. The rest joined the army of the dead. I was the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch who made the decision to try to save the last of the Freefolk."

Ned frowned. "So how did you become King in the North if you were the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch?" he asked.

"A small technicality. Our watch ends with our death. Some of the Watch didn't appreciate my saving the Freefolk, I paid for it with my life. They murdered me." Ned looked horrified.

"Yet here you stand."

"Aye, a red priestess resurrected me. That's when Sansa found me."

"What happened to Sansa?" Ned asked.

Jon and Theon were the only ones who knew the exact details of Sansa's suffering, although Theon from the future wasn't in Winterfell now. "It isn't my story to tell. However I doubt Sansa will ever tell another soul the specifics. Arya knows some. The man who tortured her... I beat him to a pulp and she fed him to his dogs. It wasn't a painful enough death."

"Jon..." Ned started.

"He shot an arrow through Rickon's heart right in front of me. I couldn't help him." tears welled up in Jon's eyes. "Flaying and burning was still too good for him for what he did." he spat.

Ned swallowed. "I've never heard you speak with such venom."

"Think of the worst things that can be done to a woman, and you won't even have half of the story. I saw the scars, I was the one who held her when she cried, was there to comfort her during her nightmares. She recovered, but no man will lay a finger on her while I'm alive, unless she wills it. Because believe me Lord Stark, I intend to take the Iron Throne once King Robert is dead. I will forbid any marriage arrangement for Sansa unless she wants to marry him. I do not trust anyone else with this task, not even you. Do you understand me?" Jon couldn't believe he was undermining the authority of Ned Stark over his own daughter, but he wasn't going to let anyone touch Sansa.

At first Ned looked almost scared of Jon, a sight he never expected to witness from his uncle, however it turned to one of respect. "If I receive the raven, I will give you the authority over Sansa's hand in marriage, but I cannot allow Cat to know you are the one making the decision."

"If I am to take the Iron Throne, Lady Stark will find out who I am. She needs to know before the King's visit. He will try to have Sansa betrothed to Joffrey and I will not allow it." Jon told him. "Now if you'd excuse me, I'd like to eat before I go to the training yard."

"Go easy on Robb...your grace." Ned asked.

Jon nodded. "I'll try. I thought I was going easy on him yesterday. This body is so...weak."

"I'm glad I'm not facing you on the battlefield." Ned shook his head.

"I'm not the one who should concern you. I don't have a taste for killing, Arya on the other hand, well she's a faceless assassin." Jon shrugged, turned and made his way to the dining hall, not stopping to see the look on Ned's face at the news of his youngest daughter's successful killing career.

"Where have you been?" Sansa asked when Jon sat down with his stew.

"Telling your father that I still have full authority to overrule any marriage matches your father or mother's wish to engage in."

"Please tell me you didn't threaten him." Sansa sighed.

"I wouldn't say I threatened him, but he conceded. I made it clear you'd been through some horrors and I was the only one who knew the exact details. He seemed to understand I am only protecting you." Sansa placed her hand on his.

"Thank you." she smiled. "You're right, not even father can protect me. But I don't know how you can either."

"We'll find a way to put Robert off. I promise." Jon said as Ned and Cat walked into the room. Cat waited by the door while Ned approached them.

"As soon as you've eaten, come to my solar. Lady Stark needs to know of your birth. I haven't told her yet." Ned said.

Jon nodded and turned to Sansa. "Why do you need me?" she asked.

Ned lowered his head. "Because his grace has made it very clear that you are not allowed to marry without his permission. Your mother needs to hear that you are agreeable to this arrangement." with that Ned left them. Sansa and Jon quickly finished their stew and made their way to Ned's solar, where he and a scowling Cat were waiting.

"Your father says I must meet with you both in regards to discussing Sansa's marriage prospects." Cat started. "Although I have no idea why he must be here." She refused to look at Jon.

"Would you like me to tell Lady Stark or would you like to do it, your grace?" Ned asked, to which Cat finally turned to look at Jon, her eyes widening at Ned referencing him as your grace.

"I feel it would be fairer coming from you, Lord Stark." Jon could see the confusion radiating from Cat. "It is only fair after so many years of lies."

"What is going on? Why do you keep referring to him as your grace?" she asked, but before Ned even got a word in, it seemed she realised what they were about to say. "Seven hells. He's Lyanna's boy." she whispered, tears welling up. "Rhaegar?" she asked Ned.

"They were married. Rhaegar annulled his marriage to Elia." Ned told her as she lifted her hand to her mouth.

"You lied." she whispered. Jon felt sorry for her, he took Sansa's hand and squeezed it, knowing this was upsetting her. Cat turned to Sansa. "And you, how long have you known?" she asked, noticing Jon's hand around Sansa's, but he refused to let go, she needed him.

"Only a few days." Sansa admitted.

"I see his Targaryen heritage is on full display." Cat snapped, Jon looked at her confused, he looked nothing like a Targaryen; although he had no idea whether he did resemble Rhaegar or not. "Look at him, pawing at her. They've never been close." She stood up. "So that's why you gave him your favour, he is a prince, and even I can admit he's a handsome one at that."

"Mother!" Sansa cried, suddenly angry. "How dare you say something like that. You don't even know me or Jon."

Cat turned to Jon. "Do you intend to take the Iron Throne?" she asked.

"From Robert, no." Jon shook his head. "Joffrey is an entirely different matter. And I wish to make something perfectly clear, Sansa will not be betrothed to anyone without my consent."

"You plan to marry her yourself. She's your sister, so your type I suppose. You do know she hasn't flowered yet." Jon put his head in his hands and shook his head. Of all the responses he'd anticipated, this was not it.

It was Sansa who saved the day. "Prince Aegon and I have agreed that I am not to enter any betrothal until a suitable courtship period has been met and Jon has ensured my potential suitor only has my best interests at heart and not my name."

"Prince Aegon. Is that your name? Aegon Targaryen?" Cat looked at him wide-eyed.

"Aye Lady Stark, it is."

Cat seemed to regain her composure, her ire was now directed at Ned. "You are aware of how much danger you have put us all in." Ned nodded. "Will you be supporting his claim, once Robert passes, which gods be good, will be for many years to come. Jon... I mean, prince Aegon, he is only a boy, he has no experience of leading a military campaign. It would be down to you, to go up against the Lannisters. Who would support a Targaryen restoration?"

"It is of no concern right now." Ned stressed. "However soon the King may wish to wed Sansa to Joffrey."

"Which will not happen!" Jon's eyes blazed. "That boy will never lay a finger on her nor Arya. I might not be their brother, but I will still die to protect them. And he is not an option for discussion."

"Don't you think Sansa herself might have an opinion? Is it because you want the Iron Throne?" Cat asked, Jon shook his head.

"I don't even want to set eyes on him." Sansa stated coldly. "Ever!"

Jon addressed Cat. "Whatever you choose to think of me, is entirely up to you. I do ask that you continue to treat me exactly the same in public as you always have done. I don't want anyone suspecting the truth about me. Not yet." Jon stood, he was trying to prevent his hands shaking, a mixture of anger, residual fear and a desire for acceptance from Lady Stark. "Now if you would excuse me." he said and left the room, not even giving anyone the chance to acknowledge him.

Jon rushed downstairs, out into the courtyard and made his way to the crypts. He wanted to be alone, to shout at his mother, cry, anything. The twenty four year old Jon would never have acted like this, so why was it happening to him? He slid down the wall and lay his head on his knees.

Footsteps echoed throughout the chambers of the crypts. Jon looked up and saw Sansa approach. She sat next to him and put her arm around him. Jon held out his hand to show her how much it was shaking.

"I've faced the army of the dead, ridden a fucking dragon and died, twice. So why does your mother terrify me more?" he asked, Sansa laughed.

"Because you are looking for her approval." She rested her head on his shoulder. "This has to be harder on you. Arya and I are used to playing the mummer's farce, but you are not a liar." she sighed. "You're too bloody honest for your own good. I suppose that's why...she ahem...well..you know."

"I know you don't like her, I know you have your reasons..." Jon had tried not to think of Dany.

"She's a tyrant, no different to Joffrey, Cersei or Ramsay. She'll kill you when she finds out."

"I don't believe that." Jon shook his head. "She's good."

"If she were a man and had done the things she'd done, would you have the same opinion of her?" Sansa raised an eyebrow.

"I'd see him as a Conqueror, I know how men think." Jon shrugged. "She's not like that."

"You don't think women can be like that?" Sansa asked. "Women have the same traits as men, when they are allowed to get away with it. And when you have three dragons, you are allowed to get away with it."

Jon knew what she meant, it was just hard to see that side of her. Jon had witnessed a softer woman, one who cared about others. "You don't know her. She can be.."

"Can be...whatever she wants you to think she is." Sansa stated. "Cersei can be soft and warm when she wants something. Any woman can. It is one of our greatest assets, when trained to use properly. Cersei also once told me a woman's greatest weapon is between her legs."

Jon looked at Sansa in surprise, he'd never heard her speak so crudely. "I hope you'd never..." he started.

"Why do you think I was married off to him? The idea was for me to seduce him. But it isn't a weapon I could use now. Just don't tell Arya." she lowered her eyes and sighed. "I know you love her, but she's out of reach. If you are going to be playing the game of thrones, you'll need to be married before she even sets foot in slaver's bay. Arya and I will give you time, but I can come up with a suitable list of names of those with large armies. I already have an idea of a match. And if I need to make a match to help you win the Iron Throne, I will do it." she promised.

Jon was touched by her words. Gods why was he so emotional, tears sprung to his eyes. "Sansa." he kissed her on the forehead. "You don't have to forsake your own happiness for me to regain my birthright. Especially if I don't want it."

"Well neither of us will be King or Queen in the North. Not if we can keep everyone alive. You not wanting it and being the man you are, makes you the best man for the job. You'll be the greatest King of Westeros." Sansa smiled warmly.

"I'm not the same man I was before we came here. I feel more.. emotional. Like there's something more but I can't explain it." Jon frowned.

"You told me that a part of you stayed dead when you died. Maybe it came back with you." she suggested. "It has been two years since you died, you've adapted to being who you are. But now you feel whole again, it must be strange." Jon nodded. "You've got the hardest adjustment to make out of all of us."

"Thank you Sansa." Jon rested his head against hers. "I don't know what I'd do without you sometimes. If I do take the Iron Throne, will you be my hand?" he asked. "I'll make Kings Landing a nicer place to be."

Sansa rested her head on Jon's shoulder and tugged at his chin. "You need a beard. I prefer you with a beard, you look more like a King. And start tying your hair back."

"It's too short." Jon complained.

"I'll get to work on a cloak for you. After I've finished the new dress I'm making for myself. Do you think you could show me how to use a dagger? Arya's too short and quick."

Jon kissed her on the forehead. "Aye, I will. Tonight in the Godswood?" he asked.

"That would be perfect." Sansa kissed him back on the cheek. "I need to go finish my breeches." She stood up, smoothed her dress and made her way out of the crypts, while Jon sat and stared at his mother's statue.