Chapter 2: Unexpected Consequences

Jon Snow

…

…

Crack.

…

…

Please no. He thought, unwilling to open his eyes. By the old gods and the new, please don't say it hatched.

Movement on his right murdered those thoughts before they could delude him, causing him to snap his attention to the egg. Underneath his shirt, he watched as the movement became more and more violent.

His heart was beating in his chest violently now, all traces of exhaustion leaving him as he realized just what was happening.

Oh gods! He thought, throwing the furs off of himself and standing up. What have I done?

Turning to his bed, he watched as the underside of his furs wriggled by themselves. Unwilling to look away from the spectacle, he just stood there and stared. After a long few moments of cracking, squeaking, and wriggling, a white and blue snout peeked its way out from under the furs.

Metallic silver eyes stared at him. He stared back. He blinked, and they blinked back.

Then it moved.

Its neck and arms, wings, came next, shattering Jon's thought process as the young reptile turned its attention to the room. Seemingly fascinated by everything, it took in the sights with surprisingly intense and intelligent eyes.

It was a dragon.

Jon couldn't form a cohesive thought at the moment, as the little winged lizard moved to sit atop a feather pillow. Tilting its head to the side, it seemingly lost interest in the room and focused back onto Jon.

Here, in his room, there was a dragon.

The dragon chirped in a way that could only seem happy, before reburying itself into his furs. A few seconds later, a soft chirp came from under the furs and Jon was finally shaken out of his shock. Moving to lift his blanket, he watched as the dragon began to make itself at home directly in the middle of his bed. Seemingly not finding a comfortable spot, it moved to the head of his bed and examined his pillow thoroughly. Spinning around for a moment, the creature lay down atop his pillow and glanced up to him in a way that could only be called expectant.

Taking a second to look over the dragon a bit more closely, he couldn't help but feel awe. Its scales were white and blue, giving off the impression that it was formed from the heart of a glacier. Its eyes were an expressive silver that took in far more than an animal should, making him feel a bit insecure as it stared at him. It was as if the creature wanted him to do something, and it was disappointed that he hadn't yet. It was as small as a half-grown cat, and yet its presence could be felt in its eyes alone.

What was he going to do now? Here was a mythical creature, casually using his pillow as its nest. Dragons were supposed to be extinct, were they not? He remembered hearing that the last of the dragons died out over a hundred years ago, and yet here one was, hogging his pillow as if the little reptile owned it.

Slowly, Jon made his way over to the dragon. The creature was seemingly happy with this, its eyes tracking him as he sat down on his furs. Moving the bloodied shirt and shattered remains of the egg off his bed, he lay down next to the dragon. Staring up at the ceiling, his mind was beginning to panic.

What does he do now? The obvious solution would be to go tell his lord father or tell maester Lewin, but he immediately shot those thoughts down.

What if he took it away?

The thought was like poison in his veins, a treasonous little thing that spread like a disease. He couldn't do that. He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't give the little dragon up. That only left hiding it, but how? He was just a thirteen, almost fourteen-year-old boy, how could he keep such a secret safe from his lordly family, their guards, and their servants?

Feeling something on his side made him snap himself back to reality. Looking down, he saw as the little dragon crawled from his pillow to his arm, using its muzzle to bury itself between his arm and chest. Letting the dragon do what it wanted, Jon watched as it ended up with its muzzle atop his shoulder with its tail parallel to his leg and wings overtop his chest and arm. It blinked its reptilian slit eyes at him slowly, and Jon couldn't help but be reminded of a cat. It was about the same size as one at the moment after all.

He was being hugged by a baby dragon… that, or his body warmth was more comfortable than the feather pillow. Somehow, he knew it was the former.

He felt protective of this dragon, more protective than he ever had of anything in his life. He felt a bit guilty to admit that, as he loved his family and would fight to the death for them, but this just felt different. This just felt… right for lack of a better word. Somehow, in less than a day, a baby dragon has become the most important thing in his life.

Feeling his eyes droop, Jon felt the siren's call of sleep once again. He made his decision; he would hide it. He didn't know how, but he would try. He will figure something out tomorrow.

Placing a hand atop the dragon even as he maneuvered the both of them to get his head on his pillow again, he heard the mythical creature purr at his touch and try to bury its face further into his arm.

—

Safe-Comfortable-Warm-Happy.

Those were the feelings of the little unnamed dragon, as scents of blood, egg-slime, stone, snow, trees, and winter snow filled her senses as she woke from her slumber. The warmth of the body below, her rider-to-be sleeping soundly. The sound of his slow and steady breathing calmed her. She could only rely on instincts and feelings, as that is all she knew other than what she saw from her egg-dreams.

She was hatched by her rider-to-be. He was young, but strong. Quiet, but good. Ignorant, but smart. Magic sung in his veins, both of dragon's blood and the blood of something else, something cold and old. Their bond would be unbreakable. Their ties, unparalleled. They would be one and the same. Not that her infantile mind knew all that above an instinctive level yet. No, now her mind settled on the Soft-Nice-Peaceful-Drowsy that she was right now.

The little dragon's eyes drooped before another feeling overcame her infant draconic mind.

Hungry-Hungry-Hungry-Hungry!

Hearing a squeak, she snapped her attention to a small hole in the wall that a rat crawled out of.

…

She moved.

—

His eyes opening slowly, Jon felt happy. That was the best rest he's had in a long while. Stretching, he sat up only to smell smoke. Immediately, panic overcame him but a light squeak caught his attention a few moments later.

Glancing down, he saw as the little dragon was glaring at him in a way that could only be considered expectant again.

After a second it turned back and attempted to breathe fire onto a rat that very clearly had been caught by the creature. It didn't take long for him to figure out what the squeak was about as a small puff of smoke escaped the maw, but no fire was released.

Thank the gods.

The little dragon then turned back to him, sat down, and tilted its head.

Somehow, someway, he knew exactly what it wanted. Dragons breathe fire, and wasn't that going to be a problem later, but the little creature wanted the rat cooked.

He supposed it made sense that the fire-breathing creature liked its meals cooked, but he was sure that he could do better than that. There were ample stores of cooked and dried meats in the kitchens, something that would make a better meal than holding a rat over a torch for some time.

Before he could get past that thought, three light but frantic knocks on his door caused Jon's blood to freeze in his veins, the warmth and comfort of his bed fading near instantly away to his little sister's voice. "Jon!" His little sister Arya's voice called from the hall, her voice filled with excitement about something yet thankfully still muffled by the door, "Come quick! Come look!"

His sheets were covered in blood and eggshells. His floor held a dragon protecting its meal of a dead rat, the reptile now hissing quietly at the door. Throwing the furs off him, he could only be thankful that his little sister did not open the door.

"What is it?" He shouted back, frantically making his way to the door just in time for it to start opening. Grabbing the handle, he slammed it closed again. Hearing a yelp on the other side, he felt bad for a moment but did not loosen his grip on the door. Searching his mind for a reason to slam the door on his sister, the best he came up with was, "I'm not decent!"

There was no hesitation in her response, "Well then hurry up and get dressed! Quick! No one knows how long it will last!"

What? Jon thought, confused. What is she on about?

Listening closely to the sound of Arya's little footsteps running down the hall, he let out a sigh of relief. Glancing back to the dragon, the little creature seemed to have calmed itself down from the intrusion.

Moving over to once again dress himself in winter clothes, a thought crossed his mind.

How in the seven hells am I going to hide this?

Even as the thought came to him, the dragon perked up, flapping its wings to jump onto his bed before burying itself under his winter coat. Peeking its little muzzle out, Jon couldn't help but smile a bit.

"No, you can't come with me." He said, picking up the coat. Watching as the dragon remained flat on his bed, its tail curling on itself as it kept still, he had an idea. It was a stupid idea, but one he couldn't think of a better option for. Grabbing his fur blanket, he placed it over the flat lying dragon. After a few seconds, it wriggled its muzzle back out. "Stay here and stay quiet. Please?"

Draconic silver eyes stared at him from beneath the blanket, giving absolutely no confirmation that the reptile understood him.

Sighing, Jon made his way to the door after getting dressed, happy that it opened inward. At least the dragon wouldn't be able to get out. Throwing his coat on, he opened the door and made his way out, carefully closing the door behind him. Immediately upon shutting the door, he became worried about everything that could go wrong with this.

The dragon could claw at the door like a dog, drawing attention. A servant could come in to see his murder-scene of a room, startling the dragon. It could break and fly out of the window, or… or…

Immediately turning around to open the door again, he glanced in to see the dragon still sitting there patiently, its head tilting slightly under the furs. Sighing, he shut the door again.

Shaking his head, Jon made his way to the courtyard.

The entire way down the hall, his nerves increased. It was as if the further he went from the little creature, the more worried he became. Sadly, that didn't help him react to the scene in front of him when he exited the keep.

Walking out onto the frost covered ground, his eyes scanned his surroundings before his eyebrows raised. In front of him was everyone he knew. His lordly family, servants, guards, and everyone between were all standing in the courtyard looking up and talking quietly amongst themselves.

"Jon!" Arya's voice called, slamming into his side before pointing up. "Look there! A red star!"

Doing as he was told, he looked up only to see exactly that. In the skies, there was a red star with a tail. It was oddly beautiful, but what did it mean?

"Septa Mordane says it's a sign from the gods to repent, Ser Rodrik says it means war is coming, and father says that we will know what it means if it is a sign meant for us." She said, seemingly not bothering to breathe as she spoke. "What do you think it means, Jon?"

Shrugging, he glanced back down to his little sister. "I don't know." He said honestly, earning a slap on the arm and a quickly muttered, "Stupid." before she tried dragging him towards their family.

Sadly, for the both of them, Catelyn Stark noticed them. Instantly, Jon's face fell, and his eyes found the ground quickly. Her hatred of him was so blatantly obvious that no words even needed to be spoken. Any comfort he would have found in his family's presence would be overshadowed by that stare.

Shaking his head, Jon removed his hand from his sisters. As she turned to him with a questioning look, Jon just let out a quick, "It's not proper. Off you go." before turning back to the courtyard alone. Her protests could be heard behind him, but it was better this way.

He stood in the courtyard brooding alone for a while, staring up at the spectacle that the red star was. Everything seemed to move around him, all of them having their own conversations and discussions of what the star might mean, and yet no one spoke to him. It just reinforced his feeling that he did not belong here.

Looking back over to his family, he saw his father smiling among his family. Sansa and Arya were arguing about something, a smile on the younger face as the look of annoyance and frustration grew on the elders. The group of them were all talking quietly, his baby brother Rickon held by his mother while Robb was talking quietly with their Father. The only one not in the group was Bran, who was sitting atop a barrel gazing upward with his mouth open.

Jon felt a small pang of jealousy fill him as he watched them all speak quietly amongst themselves, staring at Lady Stark smiling at her youngest son. Flicking his gaze to his father, Jon wanted to ask him about his mother.

Wanting to turn his thoughts away from his mother, Jon glanced back up to the spectacle in the sky. After staring at it for a while, Jon thought back to Arya's question. Sure, he didn't know what the red star could mean, but he knew someone that might.

In front of him was everyone he knew, but the one person who might have some kind of clue as to what it all meant wasn't standing among this group. Searching the crowd for a moment, he finally found maester Luwin writing something down as he switched his gaze from the comet to his parchment. He was standing in front of the library, which Jon supposed made sense, all things considered.

Not wanting to interrupt the man while he was working, Jon moved closer but said nothing for the moment. Taking the time to study the star a bit more closely, he remembered hearing about another star that fell from the sky. That star was forged into the legendary blade Dawn. While waiting, he idly wondered if the same might happen to this one.

An image of a glowing red great sword forged from the heart of this falling star filled his childish mind for a moment. The boy lost himself in his own imagination as he thought of himself at the head of an army with a legendary sword until he heard the sound of paper being folded. Looking down, he saw as the old maester rolled up his parchment before clasping his hands behind his back.

"Maester Luwin?" Jon asked quietly, watching as the old man turned to him.

"Ah, Jon. Sleep well?"

Cringing, Jon shook his head honestly. "I'm afraid that what you gave me only made my dreams much worse."

The old man frowned in worry. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Mayhap my medicines have sat on their shelves too long. I may have to go over my inventories again."

The two sat in silence for a moment, listening to the hushed conversation of the early morning courtyard before Jon asked his question. "So what do you think the red star means?"

Luwin hummed before turning his attention back skyward. "I remember studying a similar symbol when I was working towards my chain in the higher mysteries." He said, thumbing a chain made of Valyrian steel, the same metal as his father's sword. "I remember reading somewhere that the red comet foretold the coming of dragons…"

Jon's blood froze at that, snapping his attention back to the keep door that led back to his room.

"And yet they are all extinct. The symbolism must represent something else, which is why I am writing my observations and sending them back to… Jon? Where are you going?"

The young boy wasn't listening anymore, his feet swiftly carrying him back to his room. Slamming his door behind him, he placed his back on it and slumped.

A soft but happy chirp was his welcome, the white and blue dragon's entire demeanor changed to one of happiness at his appearance. Its tail twitched from its spot on the windowsill, the dragon practically wriggling in delight at his appearance again.

Watching it jump down, it flapped its wings a few times, landing gracefully for something that was just born last night. Moving over to him, he realized it had…

Are those chicken skewers?

Completely baffled, Jon looked up to the now open window and began to panic.

Whisper-yelling as he rushed over to close the window, now paying attention for the first time in his life that it opened outwards, he pointed down to the little dragon accusingly. "You went outside? No! You can't do that! You were supposed to hide!"

The little dragon only tilted its tiny head, not even a slight bit apologetic from its actions as it bit down hard on the little wooden spike. Snapping it in half, it began to chew on one of the little morsels of cooked meat. Realizing quickly that the little dragon is about to eat wood and might choke, he felt momentarily bad as he just essentially chastised a newborn.

Calming down, he bent down to try and remove the food from its mouth. "Here, let me help you." He said, his tone now softer. Surprisingly, the little dragon dropped the food without a fuss. Jon idly noted as he removed the sticks that the little dragon, while adventurous, was extremely well behaved. He has been almost bitten by a few hounds in the kennel before, but here is a creature synonymous with death seemingly purring at his touch and letting him touch its food.

After removing the sticks, he handed the small cubes of meat back to the dragon. Smiling for a second as it ferociously swallowed the food, Jon made his way to the window. Looking outside, he saw a small fire in the middle of an empty courtyard with several abandoned chicken skewers still cooking atop the fire.

I hope that it wasn't seen. I haven't heard screaming yet, so that's a good thing. But there is absolutely no way I will be able to keep this a secret, not in Winterfell.

Glancing up, he could still see the red star. If maester Luwin is right, then he caused that. His hatching of the little dragon brought them back, and now everyone would know it because of the maesters.

Hearing a soft chirp, he felt something nudge his leg. Looking down, gray eyes met silver once again and something clicked into place. There was something there, something deep that he couldn't explain fully.

He knew he couldn't keep the dragon here, but he couldn't abandon it. It clearly couldn't live on its own right now and keeping it here would have it caught within the moon, or even by the end of the day. Getting caught would have the little dragon killed or taken from him, something that was fundamentally not an option for him anymore.

Sadly for the young boy, that left only one choice. A choice he has never even considered in his short life before now.

He needed to run away.

Thoros of Myr

The laughter of the King could be heard through the room, the fat man giggling as he pawed at the skirt of some whore his servants found for him. Jovial laughter and pleasured moans were resounding through the room, and Thoros was partaking.

Popping the cork off his wineskin with his teeth, the failed priest took a large swig as the cork clanked against his knuckles. Holding up a stack of silver stags over his head, he waved over a woman that caught his fancy even as he drank. She was a brunette, and Thoros laughed as she practically abandoned the Baratheon guard she was previously… attending to.

A flicker caught the corner of his eye, and Thoros turned to look away from the woman for a moment. There was a fireplace in the room they were in, and it was lit. This was a bit of a strange occurrence as it was summer still, but Thoros supposed he did understand. The fireplace helped to keep the chill of the nighttime air away, and he thought nothing of it.

That is, until he saw something. A flicker of a vision, something he hasn't seen since he left Essos. Abandoning all of his previous thoughts of lust and sin, he sat up and turned his attention fully to the fire.

"Hello handsome." The beautiful brunette pawed at his pink robes as she sat down next to him, feeling the skin beneath. The woman was clearly interested, most likely in his money, but the half-drunk priest's attention was now entirely elsewhere. His eyes were not entirely focused on the flames of the small fireplace in front of him. This was not a flame borne from the prayers and magic of his faith, no. It was a simple fire within the pleasure house, meant to keep the chill of night away.

And yet…

Visions of ice and snow practically screamed out at him in a way he wasn't ready for. Visions of death and war and rundown ruins flashed before him until the visions stopped and all the clarity he saw before now was nothing to what he saw next.

He was there, he was standing right there next to someone. They stood atop the Wall looking out over a clear landscape. Thoros was dressed in thick furs, and his sword was strapped to his hip. Down below the Wall in front of him was a massive army. Banners of red, green, gold, gray, and every color in between spread out as far as the eye could see as the smell of smoke from the camps reached him. A grand army, bigger than he had ever seen before.

A chill ran across his spine, and slowly Thoros turned around.

Gale force winds and blizzard conditions ripped over the Wall, slamming into the red priest. Through the ice and snow, he saw hundreds, thousands, millions of ice blue eyes staring back into his soul.

Stumbling backwards, the man toppled off the side of the Wall, only for his descent to be stopped by a firm hand grabbing hold of his flailing arm. Grabbing hold of the arm for dear life, he looked up.

The man, but a boy, stared back. His hair was raven black and his eyes were gray. He couldn't have been older than fifteen. He had a slender longsword in his other hand, rippled Valyrian steel glinting off the sun and golden flames on the pommel. A whisper came, a voice in the wind even as he was lifted from his position dangling off the ice wall.

"Winter is coming."

Standing up so quickly that he sent someone tumbling down into a table, Thoros looked around frantically as he returned to himself. A groan of pain could be heard but the pink priest didn't give a damn. Looking around the room, he found his sword and made his way to it.

"Thoros!" The King yelled from his spot atop a nearby bed. "What in the seven hells has gotten you all riled up?"

Any thoughts of arousal were gone now as he strapped his sword to his belt. Glancing around at the room, Thoros realized that all eyes were now on him. Smirking, he winked at the woman he wronged and tossed one of the silver stags her way before pocketing the rest. "Sorry love, but it appears my time in the capital has come to an end."

Turning, Thoros made his way outside and tried to uncork his wineskin but found it still open. In his haste, he spilled some of the red liquid on his robes, staining them just a bit redder than they already were.

However, that wasn't the only thing red. The night sky was casting the entire courtyard in a soft red glow. Confused, the red priest turned his attention skyward.

There, in the sky, was a red star bleeding a trail of dust behind it.

The ever-present smirk that was always on the man's face fell, and a serious frown replaced it. He took one last swig of his wineskin before dumping what remained onto the dusty ground below. Finding his horse, he drunkenly tried mounting the creature, successfully making it atop the creature on his third attempt.

That boy… The priest thought as he urged his horse onward. The boy's face was now burned into his memory, but he had never seen him before. Could he be… ?

-Author's Note-

Edit 1: Added the Thoros scene.

So, as you all know, this was just an idea that popped into my head a few days ago, and now I'm actually fully fleshing it out. I've already started to write a chapter after the prologue but before the chapter: dreams.

This is mostly due to how I didn't really introduce the story before then, just threw you straight in. Don't be surprised on another read, finding a small chapter between those two. In fact, the next one is probably going to be me shuffling things around to make the introduction to this story a bit less jarring.

I'm just writing to have fun, and I'm simply happy you all enjoy my word-rambling that is this story. (If you do) y'all are literally reading the first or second draft with no beta on all these chapters, so *shrug* I mean sure, I got the plot for the story down, just not the finer details.

Anyway: thanks for reading! Consider giving me a follow and a favorite, and as always love to read your reviews.