Update 4/7/2019: Edited for a smoother read.

Chapter 11

Jon X

As was becoming routine with Jon, he was up before dawn, but unlike before where he had to hurry to Ser Jaime's room to assist him with his armor, now he was up on the wall of Winterfell watching the sunrise. He stared at it longingly as the yellow light bled into the sky.

He had taken so much for granted in that other life, before the Long Night. It was only after being encompassed in darkness that he recognized the true value of the sun. Not only did it bathe the land in light, warm its peoples, and allowed food to grow, but it held an inner power. He remembered longingly looking towards what he thought was east and praying that was the day they'd see the sun again. It created an inner peace and joy in all creatures, a marked assurance that as long as it rose, there was always hope.

He needed that hope now. The king had declared the night before that the Lannister twins would be executed after breakfast. A sustained cry had arisen from all of the men in the great hall, save for the family of Starks. Lord Stark was looking as grim as ever and Lady Catelyn appeared unsure. Bran and Arya were confused, Sansa was still upset about the Prince being a bastard, and Robb was as grim as his father. Theon seemed to have not a care in the world. Jon was standing at the door, struggling not to glare at the king, although the man paid him no mind.

In fact, the king seemed oddly unconcerned about his wife betraying him and failing to give him children. There seemed to be a marginal increase in his drinking, but as he was already a drunkard, it was difficult to truly say.

A movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned just in time to see Tyrion slip through the door, carrying a bottle of wine under each arm. Jon slipped away to follow him. He vowed he would eat tonight because he needed his strength in the morning, but dinner could wait. There was enough food there to feed an army.

He followed Tyrion as he waddled up to his room. The lone Lannister had secreted himself away, skirting the king at every opportunity. His own drinking habit had assuredly increased, but he ate less and less food and Jon suspected that he was on a firm diet of wine only. This wouldn't be the first time he'd caught Tyrion drinking himself into oblivion.

He knocked on the little lord's door. There was a moment's silence before a tentative voice called out, "Who is it?"

"Jon Snow."

"Come in," Tyrion replied and this time the voice sounded without the careful guards in place that made him sound more carefree but with a sarcastic edge to it.

When he opened the door, Tyrion raised the bottle. "Come, sit, bastard. A toast as both of our future's go up in smoke tomorrow!" He tilted the bottle back and drained it, rivulets traveled down the side of his mouth and dripped down his shirt. "Ah! You think the King will still allow me this luxury come tomorrow?"

"What luxury is that?"

"Why, drinking, of course! You can't waste good wine on the house of traitors. I will be in a cell as surely as Jaime and Cersei are. A considerably more plush cell, but the bars at the window and guards on the door will be the same," Tyrion replied. There was a slight slur to his words and he didn't disguise the raucous burp.

Jon didn't bother with meaningless words of comfort and he certainly didn't want to spoil the surprise. He simply said, "You should eat, My Lord. It would be inappropriate for you to be hungover at your brother's execution tomorrow."

"But not unexpected," Tyrion said, with a dark look. "And don't call me Lord. In all likelihood, I soon won't be. If King Robert has his way, the entire Lannister family tree will be burned to ash and struck from the land as surely as my father obliterated the Reynes and the Tarbecks. All because my beautiful sister couldn't have her way.

"There was never any compromising with her. Ever. Jaime was always the mediator because he was the only one who loved us both. He was a rather poor one, but he always protected me from her. She would have arranged for an accident for me a long time ago if not for him. And then one day, that all changed. Suddenly, Jaime hated Cersei almost as much as I did. I thought perhaps the fact that she was marrying the King and ultimately being forced to lie with another man was what drove Jaime to shun her, but I was...wrong about that. To this day, I still don't know what caused the change, but suddenly he was seeing her for the manipulative bitch that she was and always has been. She could never take him on and he knew it. The one time, the one time he falls injured, is the exact moment she strikes and takes everything away from him and murders the Lannister family legacy that my father worked so hard to build, as surely as if she were Ser Illyn Payne swinging the sword tomorrow."

Tyrion suddenly focused on him with an awareness that someone who had been drinking all day shouldn't have. "My brother is a good man. Yet, you and I appear to be the only ones who know that. Why is that? What is it about you that makes you see past everything Jaime tries to be and not what he is? How did you do it?"

Jon raised his eyebrows in surprise. This was hitting a little too close to territory he currently wasn't comfortable treading with Tyrion at that moment. It shouldn't have been a surprise that he noticed. Everyone had noticed. It had been commented on by Ned, Robb, Theon, and Ser Barristan.

You've been his squire for less than a month? How could you already be so loyal to him?

"He's the first person I've met who saw me as more than just a bastard, even if he seems to think it's my name," Jon replied. It was certainly true for this time period. "My father, Lord Stark, was preparing for me to join the Night's Watch. He kept telling me what a great honor it would be for me to be in the Night's Watch and how it's the only place that would give me true opportunity, but my uncle Benjen was trying to talk me out of it. He thought it would be folly to sign my life away when, in his words, it had only just begun. I understand the Night's Watch is a great honor, but it's also the haven of murderers and thieves. Is it really such a crime to be a bastard that that is my only recourse?"

"I don't know, but you might ask my nephew," Tyrion replied sourly. Then he sighed. "I see what you mean, Jon. We are both scourges on our fathers' honor, but at least my father has the courage to not fake his disappointment." He blinked slowly up at Jon, and he knew that the little lord was about to fall asleep. "Maybe I should join the Wall, if it means sparing me the King's wrath. I've always wanted to see the Wall."

"I'm sure you will someday," Jon replied and he decided to leave at that time. He snuck a plate of food to his room, tossing Ghost scraps that he knew would make Lady Catelyn want to wring his neck.

The sun was now peeking over the horizon and he closed his eyes as the light glided across his face. The world was coming awake around him, but he stayed there just a moment in the hopes that time might stand still for him. Then he left to visit the godswood and stared imploringly up at the face in the weirwood.

"I beg you, Old Gods, that I would have your blessing this day. This could mean the life and death of all beings in the world. I pray for the wisdom to handle this situation and any future situations. I thank you," he said, dipping his head for a moment of silence before heading to the dining hall.

He forced poached eggs down his throat, but he barely tasted them. Robb was staring at him with an expression that was a mixture of anger, despair, and concern. The rest of the Stark children were quiet. Lady Catelyn was looking very pale, because all of her children would be forced to attend the execution. King Robert appeared not to be eating, but was only downing wine, although Ned was encouraging him by pushing a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him. Tyrion hadn't appeared for any meals since his sister's confession and Cersei's bastards were all forced to take their meals in their rooms, though they too would be forced to attend the executions.

Finally, the king stood up and bellowed to the hall, "Fetch Ser Illyn Payne. It's time for the executions."

Jon glared at the king, but then turned his eyes on his uncle. Ned met them and nodded at him. He nodded back.

Everyone proceeded to get up and file out of the Great Hall into the yard. Jon stopped in his tracks when he saw the block on the ground and Theon shoved him. "Keep going, Snow. Your pretty boy knight's going to lose his head and there is nothing to be done about it. So kiss him goodbye."

Jon clenched his jaw and kept moving. We'll see, Greyjoy.

The bastard children were led out along with their uncle Tyrion. The girls were already crying and Tyrion, who winced at the light, did whisper to them what Jon hoped were words of comfort. Joffrey was not crying. He tried to remain stoic, but his lip was trembling. Jon actually felt for the boy. He had, after all, experienced the exact same transformation, only in reverse. He couldn't imagine how devastating it must be to be thought the Crown Prince with every luxury at his fingertips, to suddenly be a bastard, being looked down on like the dirt beneath one's feet.

"Bring out the prisoners," King Robert roared.

Jon refused to give the king his attention and instead was looking around. The guards on the wall already had their bows in their hands. For such a simple execution, they would have kept them holstered. It was, after all, highly unlikely that either Jaime or Cersei would make it that far. He also made note of an increase in Winterfell soldiers in the yard, all bearing their armor. The Baratheon men were kept to a dozen, the Kingsguard and Ser Illyn Payne.

Jon kept his hand on his belt, right next to his sword.

The servants jeered as Ser Jaime and Cersei were dragged into view. Cersei held her head high, but her eyes looked red and puffy from crying, a once glorious crimson dress was now stained, and her hair looked stringy and greasy even from just the single day in the dungeons. Jaime didn't look much better. He kept his eyes to the ground and his shirt, trousers, and bandage covering the wound were all stained with the grime from the cells. He glanced up briefly, scouting the crowd until he locked eyes with Jon and he could see the skin was clearly bruised from lack of sleep. Jon was certain for a moment that he saw pleading in Jaime's eyes, but it was gone in the next moment as he once again cast his eyes to the ground.

The King's herald read the crimes to the crowd, "Jaime Lannister, you have been found guilty of treason against the crown and incest with your sister. You are hereby stripped of your title as knight of the Kingsguard. May the Seven have mercy on your soul!"

Two guards grabbed Jaime by the arms and escorted him the rest of the way to the block.

"Patience, Jaime! We'll be together forever shortly," Cersei shouted to him.

"Fuck you, you fucking whore," Jaime yelled back and he fought against the men. Though he was weak from his time abed, he was still a knight, and he dug his heels in like a stubborn horse and very nearly threw the guards off.

"Are you not guards of the Seven Kingdoms? Hold him! Break his pretty face, if you must, it will be all the same when I throw his head back to his father," King Robert spat.

One of the guards held Jaime as the other brought a metal fist to the back of his head and Jaime went limp. They dragged him the rest of the way to the block and forced his head down. He wasn't quite unconscious, but he seemed disoriented and he raised unfocused eyes to Ser Illyn Payne, who stepped up with his sword unsheathed.

The tongueless knight looked to the king. Robert's face was the very picture of a summer storm, all dark clouds and thunder. He stared at Jaime for a moment, then glanced back at Ser Illyn and nodded.

It was now or never.

Jon unsheathed his sword and ran forward.

"Jon," Robb called out, reaching out to him, but Jon's cloak flapped out of his grasp, but he dare not move.

Ser Illyn paid no attention to the crowd and had already raised his sword up to its pinnacle. He brought it down, but Jon was there, standing on the other side of Jaime, with his sword brought up to deflect the blow and then he brought his sword back for a strike at Ser Illlyn.

"BOY! STOP THIS RIGHT NOW OR YOU SHALL BE CHARGED AS AN ACCOMPLICE TO JAIME LANNISTER," Robert roared.

Ned called out to the soldiers positioned on the walls, "Archer's, ready!"

Jon and Ser Illyn continued to battle. He should not have been surprised to find that the knight was a good fighter, but then he'd never had the opportunity to battle him. Ser Illyn's sword was heavier and had a longer reach, but it made Jon faster and he managed to dodge a lunge by Ser Illyn and brought his sword down on the knight's right hand, severing it and causing him to drop the sword. Ragged, animalistic screeching emanated from the knight's throat as he clutched at the stump where his hand used to be. Jon brought his knee up and smashed it into the knight's face and he dropped where he lay, blood still seeping from his stump.

Jon turned to Jaime and with a quick swipe, freed his hands. Jaime rubbed his hands to get the blood flowing again and picked up Ser Illyn's sword. He had to take a moment to pry the severed hand loose and he threw it away from him like it was a large spider. Together, they rounded on Robert.

Ser Barristan had his naked sword in his hand and he was staring at them with undisguised disgust.

"What is the meaning of this? Boy, you have unlawfully injured my executioner and freed a prisoner! You have not saved Jaime Lannister, merely assured your own death," Robert growled. "Ser Barristan, Ser Mandon Moore, defeat them!"

The two knights stepped forward and Jaime Lannister shouted, "You dare raise your sword against the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms?"

The two knights stopped. Ser Mandon Moore glanced at Ser Barristan for a cue, but Ser Barristan looked shaken. "What do you mean the rightful ruler?"

Jon stood straight, his eyes never leaving Robert's. "My true name is Aemon Targaryen. I am the last living son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark." Robert's eyes went wide. "Yes, that's right, usurper. The woman you loved never loved you. She loved another. Your rebellion was predicated on a false cause! My mother wasn't kidnapped, she left willingly! Septon Maynard annulled Prince Rhaegar's marriage to Elia Martell and then wed him and Lyanna Stark in the sight of the Seven. He got her with child and hid her in the Tower of Joy, in Dorne, safe from your wrath, but she died giving birth to me. My uncle claimed me as his own to protect me."

Everyone turned to Eddard Stark who stood grimly by Robert's side. Lady Catelyn was shaken. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open and she put a hand on Ned's shoulder to steady herself. The rest of the Stark children and Greyjoy just gaped, but Robb and Theon looked at each other, nodded, and pulled knives out of their belts, readying for a fight. Cersei's children were so stunned that Myrcella and Julianna forgot to cry and Tyrion was no longer paying them any attention. His eyes kept darting back and forth between Jon and Jaime.

"Ned, is this true?"

"It is, Robert. After your glee over the deaths of Elia Martell and her children, I had no doubt that you wouldn't hesitate to murder Lyanna's son," Ned said. His mouth was drawn into a hard line and there was rage in his eyes. "I had to protect my own blood."

"Kneel before me now and I shall let you live," Jon said.

Robert's face went red with fury and he shrieked, "Traitors! I'm surrounded by traitors! Soldiers, fight! Fight for your king!"

The squad of guards drew their swords, but they were looking up on the ramparts where the archers were ready to draw their arrows.

Ned pulled his own sword out and said, "That's enough, Robert. You will have no support here. Your men are outside Winterfell, unable to reach you. You would sacrifice the rest of your soldiers and your Kingsguard in a foolish bid to keep your throne? Surrender. It's over."

"Kingsguard, protect your king," Robert shouted his orders. But still the Kingsguard hesitated as they looked to Ser Barristan, who seemed lost.

"Ser Barristan, you loved Rhaegar! Don't deny it. You will murder his last living son?" Jaime said. His own sword was up and he stood between Jon and Ser Barristan. He was the only one that Jon could not take after all.

Ser Barristan looked around, with uncertain eyes, and then looked back at Jaime. "You knew? You knew he was the last living son of Rhaegar? When did you know?"

"The day Ned Stark brought back a baby and his dead sister. No one could put two and two together? She was a perfectly healthy child of the north and yet she died? From what? The only explanation was childbirth," Jaime lied smoothly. "I'm shocked no one saw it sooner."

"Selmy, what are you waiting for? Kill them," Robert shouted.

Ser Boros Blount had enough waiting and he charged forward to Jon. Ned cried out, "Fire!"

Half a dozen arrows flew. They peppered the ground around the Kingsguard but one hit him in his left elbow and another on his knee. He staggered, but kept charging.

"Ser Boros, desist," Ser Barristan ordered.

The orders went ignored and Jon had to bring his sword up. It was an easy fight and all Jon did was defend himself as Ser Barristan shouted to make himself heard. When it became clear Ser Boros refused to listen, Jon finally started attacking. He hammered the knight hard onto his knees, kicked him over, and then drove his sword into his right shoulder, pinning him to the ground. The knight screamed, tried to pull the sword out with his left hand, but couldn't reach.

"No one needs must die," Jon shouted. "However, I will kill if I must. Surrender now. I will allow the Kingsguard and all the soldiers to bend their knee to me. You can either serve me or serve the Wall. Your choice."

The Baratheon guards sheathed their swords and bent the knee. Ser Barristan drove his sword into the ground and bent his knee, bowing his head to Jon. "My first oath was to the Targaryen legacy. I now renew that vow with Prince Rhaegar's last living son, heir to the throne."

Ser Mandon Moore spat on the ground. "I'll not serve a whelp!"

"Then you shall serve the Wall. They're in desperate need of good men like you. I'm sure a former Kingsguard will rise high," Jaime replied, walking over to rip the sword from the knight. "Arrest him and strip him of his armor. He won't need it where he's going."

Ser Arys Oakheart, Ser Preston Greenfield, and Ser Meryn Trant bent the knee behind Ser Barristan. Jon glanced at Jaime and saw the same thought in his head: Ser Meryn Trant can't be trusted. This was a knight who had beaten Sansa on the orders of the old Joffrey. If he was willing to do that, then he's a willing servant to other war crimes. Could he be encouraged to be the knight he was raised to or was he like Janos Slynt? They would both keep an eye on him.

"Robert Baratheon, you are hereby stripped of all your lands and titles. You shall remain with the Stark household as a hostage. We will allow you to retain your current quarters, but you are not allowed to leave unless summoned," Jon said. He found Robert pathetic. The once proud warrior his uncle spoke of was gone and now existed only a shadow, bloated and trembling because he had not the sense or the training anymore to wield a hammer or a sword. He looked at Ned with eyes full of betrayal, but Ned appeared unmoved.

Two pairs of Winterfell guards surrounded the old king and marched him back to his room. Another pair of guards escorted Ser Mandon Moore to the cells. Ser Boros Blount refused to swear a new oath and was sentenced to the Wall. Jon's sword was pulled out of his shoulder and three soldiers escorted him to Maester Luwin's study for treatment.

Ser Illyn Payne had bled out in the ensuing minutes after his hand was removed.

"His death was unfortunate. I need to send House Payne an apology. Have his body prepared and I will send it back for proper burial," Jon lamented.

"Brother, the gods have smiled upon us! We have a second chance - JAIME!"

Cersei had regarded the events with a pleased smile and when the Kingsguard were escorted away, she had run to Jaime. As soon as she placed a hand in his, he snatched his hand away and pointed his sword at her. She fell back and for the first time seemed to understand how thin the ice was between her and her twin. She raised her hand up in a feeble defense as he raised his sword, hatred blazing in his eyes.

"Jaime, no," Jon ran to him and forced his hand down. "You can't kill her! She is not the perpetrator of those crimes!"

"You know what she did," Jaime snarled. "She's too dangerous to be left alive."

"Perhaps, but she didn't commit those. She did commit a crime against you however, and I will not let her free." Jon lowered his voice and said, "She may even prove a valuable hostage for your lord father's cooperation."

"Our father only cares about me. After the disgraced letter he is about to receive, he'll want her head himself," Jaime replied, then his face grew dark. "Mine too if I don't send a new letter telling him of the events today. Do I have your leave?"

"Yes, get some rest."

"I never want to see her after this day," Jaime said, nodding in the direction of his sister.

"You won't."

Jaime dropped the sword he'd taken from Ser Illyn and sauntered into Winterfell. All nobles and servants fell away from him like he was a pariah.

I needs must set the record straight. Everyone needs to have as much faith in Jaime as they do me, Jon thought, watching Jaime disappear into the doorway. He summoned yet another pair of guards to escort the former queen to her separate quarters and she glared at them all as if their intrusion into her life was unwelcome.

"J-jon?" He turned to find Robb and Theon had come up to him. "When did you find out about your heritage?"

"Fa-uncle told me just after I was made Ser Jaime's squire. He felt it as important that I knew where I came from, since I was going into the Snake Pit. I don't think he ever expected me to take the throne, though," Jon replied sheepishly.

"Why did you?"

"Ser Jaime was my ally. His accepting me as his squire was not a coincidence. He knew and he wanted to keep me close in King's Landing in case there was an opportunity. I couldn't just let him die, especially on false charges."

Robb wrinkled his nose. "But he confessed!"

"Under duress, to keep his nephew and nieces alive. If Rickon or Bran or Arya's life was at stake, wouldn't you be willing to stake your life for them?"

"I guess I can't call you bastard any longer," Theon replied meekly.

"Indeed," Jon replied sharply. "It's Aemon now. Come, it's time we had lunch."

"King Aemon, wait!"

Jon turned to find Lord Tyrion and the new bastard children following closely behind him. "My King, I want to thank you for sparing my brother's and sister's lives. However, I did want to know...what's to happen to the children?"

Joffrey and his sisters stared up at him anxiously. He thought there might have seen a small amount of resentment and anger in the boy's eyes, but mostly he saw fear. His former life had been ripped away from him. He no longer had any status in the eyes of the law and he was subject to the King's whim like any other peasant.

"The children have not committed any crime against me. They will no longer be confined to their rooms. However, I must insist that they stay here in Winterfell for the time being," Aemon replied.

"Th-thank you, My King. You are most merciful," Myrcella said, dropping into a curtsy. "I also wish to thank you for sparing my uncle and my mother's lives. I know what they did was wrong -"

"Your uncle is not your father. He did not sire a single one of you. Your mother only wished it were that way."

"I am relieved to hear you see it that way," Lord Tyrion replied. "My brother and his twin were close once, before she married Robert Baratheon, but never that close. Their relationship has been...tempestuous ever since. I know he never would have committed such a vile act."

Maybe not this time around, Aemon thought, but he immediately pushed it out of his mind. That Jaime was dead. The Jaime he knew had killed the old one long before they had ever met. He could trust this Jaime and he would. He was the truest ally he had, the only one who truly understood what was at stake.

"Come to lunch. I must make an announcement regarding Ser Jaime."

Author's Note: In my fic The Road North, I changed Jon's real name from Aegon to Aemon because I thought Aegon didn't make any sense. He already had a half-brother named Aegon. Why repeat the name? Admittedly, the change makes less sense now that Maester Aemon is still alive, but I'm keeping it.