NED

The low light in the crypts of Winterfell cast a shadow over his nephew´s face, making his stern and serious expression turn dark and haunted. His grey eyes looked black as he stared ahead as they walked past the former lords and kings of winter, the scar making him look over than the almost sixteen years he pretended to be.

The dead of house Stark gazed with unseeing eyes into the darkness, rusted blades on their laps and with direwolves curled at feet made of stone as they continued their eternal vigil, their grim faces daring anyone to disturb their rest.

Jon glanced over his shoulder as they made their way deeper into the crypts, and Ned´s eyes flickered to the scar that split his right brow. The cut was clean and thin, made with something terribly sharp and very recently. "What happened?"

The king looked at him, a question in his dark eyes as Ned gestured at the scar. "An Other and his minions attack us when we were at Craster´s, meeting with Tormund and his peoples. We managed to defeat them but regrettably we could not bring with us a dead man to prove our words."

Ned felt his heart freeze with fear and worry at the thought of his nephew and king fighting against the dead and their masters. "How did you escape?" His voice was soft and low, as he tried to keep his worry for Jon hidden away deep inside him.

"We killed the Walker."

Ned frowned as they stopped before the statues of lord Rickard, Bran and Lyanna. "How? I thought that you needed Valyrian steel? Or Dragonglass to kill the Others."

Jon unhooked the slimmer and shorter sword from his belt and handed it to Ned, as the white wolf leaned against his legs, like it was the hundredth time doing so. "Tormund found her beyond the Wall."

Taking the sword in his hands, Ned pulled it partly from it´s scabbard and he was stunned to see a familiar rippled patterns running through the blade itself. "Where? How?"

"Take the leather of the hilt." Jon prompted, with an almost joyful tone.

As Ned did as his king bade, the shock only grew. The golden flames of the pommel and cross guard and the black hilt making the weapon unmistakable. "How did Tormund find Darksister beyond the Wall?"

"Tormund went to the cave that Bloodraven called home and killed him, then he took the sword and gave it to me during our meeting." Jon smiled as he spoke, the low light flickering over his face, making his eyes appear black. "Rivers will never be able to hurt Bran again."

The relief that Brandon would not be the man´s puppet again, almost made Ned fall to his knees and weep, yet he held his feelings on a tight rein. "I must thank him." Ned handed Jon the sword back. "And it will be good to have at least two Valyrian steel swords in the fight to come."

"Four." Jon said, now a smile on his face as he fastened Darksister to his belt again, this time without the leather that had hidden its identity. The king unsheathed the other one, revealing the rippled steel in the low light. "Lord Commander Mormont still owns Longclaw and then there is this."

As Jon let the leather strips fall on the stone floor of the crypts, Ned almost swallowed his tongue from the shock of seeing Blackfyre. "Did Tormund find this one with Rivers as well?"

Letting out a little laugh, Jon put the legendary sword of Aegon the Conqueror back into its scabbard as the ruby on its pommel glinting in the torch light. "No, it was given to me when I returned."

At seeing the two Targaryen swords in the hands of their rightful owner, Ned felt the hope in his chest rise to even greater hights. Three dragons and the swords of king Aegon and queen Visenya on his side, the people would flock to him when they found out.

"Are you going to tell the lords about the Others tonight?" Ned asked; however, Jon only shook his head.

"No, I don't think that it would be wise."

"Jon, they need to know."

"Aye, however, I have no proof." Jon´s eyes seemed as hard as steel; his mind made up. "I cannot have them think that I am Aerys come again. I will not."

Ned sighed and rubbed his chin. Jon had the right of it. Without proof, most would think them mad. "Will lord commander Mormont try and send out scouting parties?"

"Aye, in the meantime I want to start strengthening the Watch even more than we have been doing." Ned frowned heavily at his words.

"The Night´s Watch is stronger than it has been in centuries. Excluding the Nightfort, all the castles on the Wall have been manned and are being repaired."

"We need Dragonglass." Jon stared at the statue of Lyanna; his eyes seemed far away. "We need to take Dragonstone and start shipping it to White Harbor and East Watch, so that it can be turned into weapons."

"Holding Dragonstone will also give you a chokehold on Kings Landing."

"Aye." Silence followed Jon´s agreement with him as they looked at Lyanna´s likeness. "What happened? Why did Sansa suddenly send the letter, calling me to Winterfell with the dragons?"

Frost laid down by Ned´s feet, yawning and placing her large head on her front paws. "Robert discovered that Cersei´s bastards are not his."

"Is it known who told him?"

"No, not that I am aware. Robert then imprisoned Cersei and the Kingslayer as well as Joffrey." Ned had to admit that he did not weep for those three, knowing who they were and the pain and suffering they were capable of inflicting. "However, it is not known what he did with the younger two children."

It was Myrcella and little Tommen that he was more concerned about, from what he knew, those two were innocent and nothing like their monster of a brother. He just hoped that Robert had not killed them.

The deep frown on Jon´s face was made even more severe by the low light flickering from the torches on the walls. "Tywin Lannister will not take that well."

"No and neither did Robert, he is calling his banners and planning to march against Casterly Rock."

Raising a brow, the King looked thoughtful. "Robert Baratheon is a capable military commander however I think that without any inside help, he will find it a rather impossible task to take the Rock."

"Aye, the Rock would be hard for him to crack however I do not think that he will need to." Ned rubbed his brow as Jon stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. "Tywin will view this as an insult of the highest order, an insult that he will need to answer with strength."

The King nodded. "As with lord Tyrion but worse."

"Aye however there is something else that you need to see." Reaching into the inner pocket of his brown leather doublet, Ned pulled forth the two letters that Robert had sent him.

Handing the first letter to Jon, the King took the letter and started to read it. Ned watched as his face became cold and impassive, the anger rolling off the King like waves. "He is demanding Sansa´s hand in marriage?"

"Aye." Ned studied the younger man´s face before he handed Jon the other letter as he continued. "And he sent me this when I refused him."

The air in the crypt seemed to grow even colder than before. "And what did you send back to him?" Jon´s voice came out as more like a growl that belonged to one of the direwolves as the King seemed to restrain his anger the best he could.

"I did repeat what I had sent him before. That I will not be marrying my daughter to him." The memory of how Robert had insisted that Sansa marry Joffrey in very same place in another lifetime swam across his mind.

"Jon, speaking about marriages, I have something to talk to you about."

Handing him the letters, Jon seemed rather resigned. "You wish to speak to me about who I will marry."

"Aye."

Jon looked back at the statue of his mother with a faraway look in his eyes. "I never thought that I would get married when I was younger. I always thought that I would go North to the Wall and take the Black."

The lord of Winterfell felt the guilt bubble in his gut.

The guilt must have been clear on his face as Jon quickly spoke again. "I am sorry uncle. I did not mean it like that."

"There is nothing you need to be sorry for." Ned insisted waving the younger man off. "While you may have been safe from Robert and the Lannisters…Well I…You were never happy and I…" Not really knowing what to say to justify his decision, Ned trailed off letting the words fade into the darkness.

"I was often happy." Jon´s voice had a trace of sadness to it. "I had Robb and Arya…and later Bran and Sansa and even Rickon. And I was alive and not being used like a puppet to further this or that lord´s dreams of ambition."

Ned felt a bitter smile stretch across his face but he could not find it in himself to say anything more on the matter. The wounds of his mistakes went too deep.

"Did you have anyone in mind?" Jon asked.

"What?"

"For marriage, I mean…for me to marry." A faint blush crept up Jon´s face as he stared at the statue in front of him as if it held the answer to all of life´s mysteries.

Smiling affectionately at his nephew as the look on his face reminded Ned of when Jon and Robb were younger and would do something they were not supposed to do and were trying to hide it from him.

Looking at the vacant stare of his sister´s statue, he found it difficult to look at her. Despite how unlike the statue was to his sister, Ned felt like she was gazing at him scornfully at not having told Jon the truth before he had gone to the Night´s Watch in their lives before.

Turning his eyes away to where his father´s likeness was sitting beside Brandon´s grave. Stern faced and silent with an iron sword in his lap and a direwolf that he had never had in life lying at his feet.

The old man would have approved, Ned thought to himself. He would have liked having both a grandson on the Iron throne and a granddaughter hopefully promised to the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

However, in the end, it did not really matter what lord Rickard Stark would have liked or what he did not. The man was dead, and Ned had to think of his own children and nephew before he could be concerned by the approval or disapproval of his father.

"Aye. I had hoped that you would take Sansa´s hand in marriage."

DAENERYS

Silver snorted from under her as Dany stared at the Dothraki hoard slowly marching further east without really seeing anything.

The anger that filled her was overwhelming and all consuming.

Her dragons had been taken away from her. Stolen before she had been able to hatch them back into the world and take back her mantle as the mother of dragons and the Unburnt.

Fury coursed through her veins like Drogon´s fires and her limbs shook with the effort of keeping it contained. Whoever had stolen her children from her would know the meaning of Fire and Blood.

Her violet eyes found lord Baelish was speaking with her deplorable brother.

Was it him who had stolen her dragons?

Staring at the little man, Dany watched as he said something that clearly amused her brother, judging by the fact he grinned like a small child at whatever Baelish said to him.

"Princess." Ser Jorah´s voice interrupted her thoughts. The man neared her, his horse walking calmly to her side and standing beside her Silver. "Are you well?"

Unlike in her other life, the knight did not hand her a piece of dried horse meat, however there was the same concerned glint in his eyes. The sense of disquiet that filled her when the knight did not do the very same thing as he had done in her other life made Dany frown.

Every time she noticed a change in someone´s actions from her last life, Dany felt the cold shiver of fear crawl down her back. Someone was changing things; someone was working against her.

Was it that harlot, Sansa Stark?

No, it could not be. The Gods were not that cruel, surely. Or was it the Sons of the Harpy? The names and faces of her enemies twirled across her mind, each more suspicious than the last. Yet every time she tried to figure out who it was that was hindering her, Sansa Stark´s hateful visage reared its detestable head.

It could not be her. Could it?

No, the red headed chit would not be able to have memories from their last life like Dany.

Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen was the last hope for her family and the only person who could wake dragons from stone.

The Stark girl was not special and would never be able to retain any memories from their past life.

"Princess?" The knight asked again, reaching for her shoulder with his large, weathered hand. A swell of affection pushed aside her fear at seeing her bear care so for her.

"I am alright, Ser Jorah." Dany tried to assure the man, however the look in his eyes told her that it had not work.

Dany looked from her bear to where her foolish brother was still riding beside lord Baelish. The rightful Queen was not sure how the small man did it but somehow, he had managed to worm his way into the good graces of her brother. "Tell me Ser, what do you know about lord Baelish."

The large man looked over to where Viserys was speaking with the slight lord of Baelish keep. "Truthfully, I do not know much about him. I know that his father was friends with lord Hoster Tully, and he was fostered in Riverrun until he was sent back to the Vale prematurely. He also served on Robert Baratheon´s small council as the master of coin."

Dany kept the frown of her face. "Lord Baelish has ties to the Tully´s of Riverrun?" The red rush of anger swelled in Dany again. "Is he close to the Starks then?"

Ser Jorah snorted and shook his head. "No, princess. As the stories tell it, lord Baelish fought Brandon Stark in a duel for lady Catelyn´s hand." There was a slight smile on Jorah´s face as he turned his eyes to Dany. "Lord Baelish lost rather badly from what I hear."

Another Stark. The very name made her silently seethe yet she hid it well from her Bear. "So, Baelish is feeling wronged because this lady Catelyn married Brandon Stark?"

"No, princess." Ser Jorah frowned at her and fixed his eyes on her. "Brandon Stark died before he could marry lord Hoster´s daughter. Instead, she married his younger brother, Lord Eddard Stark."

Staring at the knight, Dany bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snarling in anger. So, Baelish did have ties to that little harlot.

Had the Stark girl managed to convince the little man to steal Dany´s dragons for her? No, it could not be, the Harpy could not have gotten any memories, it was impossible.

Dany took a deep breath. She was Daenerys Stormborn, the blood and seed of Aegon the Conqueror and the Stark girl was no one.

The fact that Dany had her memories was proof that the Gods did not want her to fail.

"It is likely that Baelish shares my dislike for the man." Ser Jorah said after a moment´s silence.

"You think so?"

"Aye, not only did he marry the woman Baelish had designs on, but lord Stark is also a friend of Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn." At hearing the name Jon, Dany´s heart skipped a beat and there was a tingling in her belly as the image of the dark grey eyes was pulled to the forefront of her mind.

"I thought that the Usurper had offended his dog?" Dany spat as Silver tossed her head and snorted.

"Lord Eddard will not be angry at Baratheon for long. He is if nothing else a creature of duty."

"And where was his duty to his King when the Usurper took my father´s throne?" Dany countered, her eyes blazing. "Stark is a traitor to house Targaryen and just as guilty as the Usurper of stealing the Iron throne."

"I apologize princess, I did not mean to upset you." Watching the large knight beg her forgiveness soothed her anger and Dany took another deep breath.

"Tell me Ser, when in Magister Illyrio´s palace, did you see dragon eggs there?" Dany asked as she turned her Silver and urged her forward.

Ser Jorah commanded his horse to follow the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms as his mount grabbed the top of the tall grass to eat. "No, I did not, princess."

Staring at the knight, Dany narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure Ser? There would have been three eggs, one black and red, another emerald and bronze and the third pale cream and golden."

"No, princess. I did not see any dragon eggs in his palace." Ser Jorah frowned at her and shook his head. "Although I could imagine the Magister wealthy enough to buy dragon eggs and I am surprised how specific you are in detailing these eggs."

"They are mine."

The man stared at her, wide eyed in his surprise. "Princess, you own dragon eggs?"

"Yes and they were stolen from me." Dany felt the anger rise in her again.

"I can understand your anger now, princess." The man looked struck as he spoke, hardly bothering to guide his horse, rather letting his mount follow Silver calmy. "With three eggs, you would live out the rest of your life a wealthy woman in one of the Free cities."

"I have no interest of living a life of luxury in the Free cities, Ser knight." Dany held her head high as a Dothraki warrior rode past them. Glancing at her knight, Dany wondered if she should tell him how she planned to hatch the eggs when they were returned to her possession.

Then she remembered how worried he had been when she had stepped into the pyre with her husband, and she decided against it. It would not do him any harm to wait and see her become the mother of dragons once again along with everyone else.

The looks of awe flooded her mind when she recalled her knight and her Dothraki finding her in ashes of the pyre, with three dragons clinging to her.

Would she ever have that feeling again? Now that her dragons had been stolen from her.

Magister Illyrio had sworn to Khal Drogo that he owned no dragon eggs but Dany knew better. However, that begged the question why would the cheesemonger hide the eggs from her when he had so easily given them to her before?

Did Magister Illyrio…No, he had behaved just as before until he did not give her the eggs.

Staring at Silvers flowing mane, Dany frowned deeply. Who could have stolen her eggs and where were they hidden?

Dany and Ser Jorah rode in silence as she thought on all the differences leading up to her wedding in both her lives, it was then when Dany remembered what the cheesemonger had told her when he had given her the eggs in her first life. "Ser Jorah, have you gone to the Shadowlands beyond Asshai?"

"No, I cannot say that I have." The knight studied her for a moment before continuing. "Why do you ask, if I may?"

"My eggs came from there." If she could not have the eggs from her last life, Dany needed to find other eggs to hatch. Yet the very thought of not riding Drogon again did not sit well with Dany. He was the black dread come again, a fitting mount for her who was Aegon the Conqueror reborn.

"I am not surprised that they were." Ser Jorah patted his horse´s neck as a soft breeze came from the west, cooling them slightly. "They say that in Asshai by the Shadow you can find the greatest amount of Dragonlore in the Known world."

"Truly?" Feeling the rush of excitement, Dany´s mind raced with possibilities. "I could find dragon eggs there."

"Aye, although if it is dragon eggs that you want, I think that if you are daring enough then you would have better luck in Old Valyria, princess." Ser Jorah laughed, his weathered face crinkling around the eyes and mouth.

At the mention of Old Valyria, a longing filled her. The ancestral home of her people, of her house. If there was any place with dragon eggs left in the world, it was the stronghold of the Dragonlords of old. "I think that you might be right, Ser."

"Princess, I think that Khal Drogo would not be pleased if you rode off to Old Valyria." There was an almost nervous tone in the knight's voice as he spoke that made Dany raise a brow.

"I am sure that my husband can find some volunteers to travel on my behalf."

"Oh, I am sure that Khal Drogo is very eager to get you anything you ask for as it seems that he is very taken with you, princess." Dany was helpless against the smile that broke out on her face, it had taken so little for her to charm her husband and he had seen her righteous anger of the theft of her dragon eggs as the strength it truly was. "However, I think that he would be hard pressed to find any Dothraki willing to travel to Valyria."

"Why? He is the Khal and I am his Khaleesi."

"Aye but the Dothraki are afraid of it as they should be." The knight said quietly. "The doom still rules Old Valyria."

Her cheeks felt hot, and her nostrils flared yet she kept her temper in cheek. "And you Ser? Are you afraid of old ruins and stonemen?"

"Any man would be wise to fear the stonemen." As the knight spoke, Dany felt a sliver of guilt gnaw at her, remembering how the man had gotten stone sickness when he had travelled through the ruins with the traitor Tyrion Lannister. "There are said to be darker things hiding there."

"Like what?" Dany would not deny that she was growing more curious about what had become of her ancestral homeland.

The knight seemed to suppress a shiver. "Creatures that I would not wish upon my worst enemy."

"What creatures?" Another soft breeze rushed through the tall grass and this time, instead of relief from the heat, a shiver ran down her spine as the leathers stuck to her skin from sweat.

"You have not heard the tale of Aerea Targaryen, princess?"

As she shook her head, Ser Jorah began to speak. "Aerea Targaryen was the daughter of Rhaena Targaryen and Aegon the Uncrowned. She was wild and wilful and one day, the princess decided to claim Balerion the black dread for her own and disappeared. A year later she returned yet she was almost unrecognizable, thin and wracked with fever."

The man fell silent, gathering his thoughts no doubt. "The maester did everything he could to safe her and he said that it was like she was being cooked from within. When the maester tried to lower her fever with a cold bath, unspeakable things crawled from under her skin and died in the cold water."

"Surely that tale is just that, a tale." Dany said softly.

However, the knight shook his head. "No, princess. It is not, even Balerion was affected by what happened. They say he carried great scars that he had not had before their voyage to the Doom."

"Asshai it is then." Dany said in a lighter tone than she thought she could.

"I think convincing the Dothraki to travel Beyond the Shadow is not going to be an easy task princess. After all they do not travel where their horses cannot run."

"Surly there is someone who can travel there on my behalf."