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"We are the childre-, trueborn children of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Targaryen."

I nodded at that, wincing slightly at the emotionless tone and the flat look Visenya gave me.

"So the rebellion was just a lie? Our mother wasn't kidnapped and raped?"

Shaking my head in refusal I spoke, "I don't know what caused them to run away or stay hidden throughout the war, but what I do know is our mother named us Daeron and Visenya, and she asked me to avenge our family."

Visenya just shook her head and leaned back against the giant weirwood of Winterfell, her silver hair falling to her navel in waves as she dipped her legs in the pond before the tree. Knowing that she would talk to me of her own accord, I raised my right hand and concentrated upon the calmness around me, my breathing slowing down as I only felt the cold and I felt the chill spread through my body, goosebumps rising all over my skin before I felt the sense of power once again like several times before.

With a force of will that would have made Harry Potter and Hal Jordan jealous, I shaped that power through my thoughts and an icicle grew out of my palm. I concentrated upon its shape, on how the magical energy flows within the structure and with a flex of my power, the icicle grew more quickly, turning into a bastard sword.

There was no elaborate craftsmanship, no special metalworking, or even a crossguard on the blade, but I knew that the weapon in my hand was deadlier than all swords save the castle forged steel and the Valyrian Steel weapons.

Visenya shifted minutely and my focus was gone like a whore takes away a coin, the sword in my hand shattering apart into tiny ice fragments as I turned towards my twin. Her violet eyes were looking at my hand, her face scrunched up in confusion.

"What was that?"

Raising my hand in front of her, I manifested the elemental power within me and with a soft sound like a blade cutting through air, small spikes of ice grew over my palm.

"My guess is that the title of Winter Kings was as literal as it could be", I shrugged, focusing on the ice and shaping it into a small cube, Visenya hanging on every syllable with wide eyes,"both of us can manipulate the elements of winter. The Snow, the Ice, the winds or even just a chill which comes from being outside."

An odd choking sound came from the nine-year-old girl and for a moment I worried that the revelations of the past minutes might have overloaded and broken the mind of my twin before she erupted into peals of laughter. She almost fell down into the black pool in her cackling and I was growing more uncomfortable and worried by the second for my sister before she jumped forwards towards me. I had barely even realised that before her fist connected with my face, sending me tumbling backwards down the slope. After I came to a stop, I groaned and sat up, shaking the snow from my hair and clothes before standing up to look at my absolutely enraged and devastatingly hot sister—pun completely intended—as she walked down towards me. Her violet eyes were glowing slightly and all around us the temperature continued to rise, the ever-existing and permanent snow of the Godswood melting off quickly due to the almost invisible blue flames on my sister.

With a scream of rage, she tried to tackle me, only for her to lose consciousness mid-leap due to the exhaustion of using her magic for the first time on such a large scale.

Lifting up my sister with a grunt—by the old gods she was heavy!—I carried her out of the Godswood towards our room, thanking the deities Old and Valyrian both that she wasn't made of sterner stuff.

Laying her down on the bed, I left for the training yard with most of my furs shed off. Wearing a simple leather jerkin and breeches, I picked up a wooden bastard sword comfortable for my hands and body and moved forwards.

Rodrik Cassel barked at me for my tardiness—something at which Theon Greyjoy and Robb laughed a lot, bloody children the lot of them—and then punished me with 100 swings of the four basic styles he had shown us years ago at this point. Rolling my eyes at the sour man's back I performed the given task and by the end my right and left, both shoulders were close to falling off.

"Snow! Are you done? Good, now you and Robb will clash blades. Five points or mortal peril will decide the winner!", Cassel shouted, coming towards us after giving a thorough trashing to a pair of guards. Crossing his arms over his chest, He nodded towards me and my cousin, silently telling us to get on with the show.

Settling into my favourite position, I stood up slightly bent at my knees and my sword pointed towards the ground with my fingers loosely holding onto the hilt. Robb looked at me cockily, no doubt emboldened by the lax grip and the tired expression on my face before he advanced with his blade facing forwards, slightly tilted towards the ground and a round shield on his arm.

When I showed no sign of movement, Robb grinned and charged towards me with his sword stabbing towards my gut. I waited till it was impossible for him to pull back before I shifted to my left and grabbed his sword arm at the wrist. I moved under his arm, my movement forcing his hand to twist and straighten out before I came in front of him. He bashed his shield on my chest, but the close distance worked against him, restricting him from building up the required momentum.

I raised my sword and pushed the tip under his neck, stilling him completely before I let go of his twisted arm and moved back, giving a smile to him and getting a scowl in return. He huffed and moved back as Rodrik proclaimed me the winner of our bout. If it weren't for my position in the yard, I would have missed the scowl on the face of my lovely aunt and the emotionless facade my uncle put up at the defeat his heir just suffered.

Robb was good for his age, don't get me wrong but I was just better than he ever could be. Even in my old life, I had kept up with fighting and training myself for about six years until my death and now I had all of that experience with a shitload of time to incorporate it in my muscle memory.

"What are you smiling at Bastard? Let's see how you handle yourself against me!", Greyjoy shouted, his hand spinning a wooden longsword and his other hand holding a circular shield similar to Robb's, only a little larger in size.

"Just remembering what Aegon and his sister-wives did to Harren Hoare.", I quipped back, causing silence to descend upon the courtyard and Theon to flush in anger before he ran towards me at an impressive speed. He brought his sword down upon me in a powerful overhead swing which I parried by tilting my sword and allowing his weapon to slide off to the side. He brought it back in a horizontal slash but I ducked low and swiped out with my right leg at his knee, making him stumble and fall down. He rammed his shield into my knees as I was rising up causing me to fall sideways. I groaned as I stood up slowly, my shoulder burning with pain and exhaustion before I saw Theon jumping towards me with his sword held by both hands, his shield discarded on the ground. I leaned back on my hands and raised up my right leg, throwing his airborne body behind me and rolling up in the same motion before I jumped on his back and grabbed his hand. I twisted it behind his back and put pressure on his elbow, making his own blade lie at the top of his head.

"Greyjoy is Dead, Snow wins by Fatal attack, once again!", Ser Cassel shouted, hauling me off the groaning Ironborn and almost dislocating my shoulder in the process, before he picked up Theon like he was a rag and threw him towards me. Both of us moved towards the stone benches, the Heir to the Iron Islands giving me a glare every step of the way before he slinked off towards the archery section. As annoying as the asshole was, I had to applaud him for his talent in bow and arrow, he was the best archer in Winterfell and that was saying something considering how many older and experienced guards there are in the castle.

Rolling my shoulders and rubbing them to alleviate some of the pain in them, I picked up the bastard sword in hand and approached towards where the household guards and the recruits trained, mentally getting ready for an hour of bruising and pain as I raised my sword joined Jory's recruits in the training.

"Ohhhh, Fuuuccckkk…", I groaned as Visenya ran her hands down my back, her fingers pressing down wonderfully on my tired and sore muscles. She snorted from her place on my hips and dug her nails into my collarbone, causing me to hiss and shift at the sudden pain.

"Don't groan like you are getting your cock sucked off, I am still angry with you."

"When did you get so crass?", I asked as I turned around once she got off me, her head coming to rest besides mine as she looked up at the ceiling.

She turned towards me with a blank look and arched an eyebrow, making me feel distinctly stupid before she deadpanned, "You are the one who goes around saying fuck or asshole every second sentence."

Chuckling at that, I sat up and wore my shirt once again and went under the covers. Visenya snuggled up to me, her arms and legs wrapping around me. I ran my hand up and down her sides before I heard her take a deep breath.

"Why didn't you tell me before now? You have known the truth about us since forever but you didn't think of telling me?", this time there was no anger in her voice, only hurt and vulnerability the likes of I had never heard from my little sister.

"Oh, Visenya," I said as I turned towards her and hugged her fully, burying my head in her silken hair as I rubbed up and down her back.

"I thought of telling you ever since the day we learned to talk and understand things. But I was afraid of someone hearing our words. Your looks are already against you sister, with only our uncle's word and the very public knowledge of his time with Ashara Dayne having kept the likes of Tywin Lannister and Jon Arryn off your back. I was also afraid if you would believe me or not and whether you would do something drastic after you learned the truth."

She just hummed in response, her arms growing tighter around me before she asked,

"So are we going to honor the promise mother asked of you?"

"First we have to get you to learn weapons and magic both, god knows I will be too busy taking care of you every day to do any conquering" I said, rolling my eyes at the overly serious frown on her face.

The punch which hit my ribs next did a lot to remove my doubts about Visenya's chances in honoring and surpassing her namesake.

A blast of fire shot towards me, with the ice beneath my feet growing into two-foot-high spikes—thankfully they weren't sharp, their tops blunted enough to only bruise slightly if they hit. In response to Visenya's attack, I waved my hand, creating a gust of wind which sent the fire spiraling away from me while stomping my foot on the ground, a wave of fire spreading out from the point of impact, turning every spike into steam instantly.

However the next second I was blindsided by my sister as the snow above me dropped on my head and in those intervening milliseconds, her wooden sword came to rest at my throat.

"Dead", she spoke between gasps, both our skins flushed and sweaty from exhaustion.

Clearing my eyes of the snow, I plopped down on my ass, Visenya following soon after as she sat between my splayed legs and rested her back against my chest.

"You have gotten better, a lot better in the last few days.", I commented after a few moments as our breathing calmed down. Visenya just hummed in response and buried herself farther into me, before I felt her breathing even out as she fell asleep.

Sighing slightly, I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her closer to me as I thought about the events since the day I told her about who we were.

The very next day, Visenya, or Lyanna as she was known to everyone, came out into the yard with breeches and my shirt before she took a wooden bastard sword in hand and demanded Rodrik to teach her. With a lot of chuckles, ridicule, and a new recruit getting introduced to Visenya's knee intimately, Rodrik agreed to teach Visenya how to use a sword.

Of course, Lord Stark dissuaded her from the path and tried taking her sword away, only for Visenya to speak in front of the whole household, the words almost made me kiss my sister right then and there.

"Respectfully Lord Stark, I won't have a retinue of guards following me around for my safety like you two daughters."

In the uncomfortable silence that ensued, Visenya had simply grabbed my hand and brought me outside in the training yard to practice once again, leaving Eddard Stark looking pained and shamed all at once. Now, Visenya practiced daily with us boys and men in the yard and she was already defeating Robb one out of four matches—much to the boys' consternation.

Our magic had grown leaps and bounds in the last two years, our nine-year-old selves much stronger in body and much calmer of mind to concentrate and channel the magic in our blood. Visenya was more comfortable with fire, rage, and passionate emotions coming as easily to her as breathing, though she was proficient in ice magic in an almost equal amount.

Her weapons training was handled in the yard by me and some of the younger trainees for hours on the day, but in the morning both of us had a fixed routine of going for a jog around the keep until our legs burned, and then we would fight, without weapons.

By this point, many memories of my old life were hazy at the best, but I used what I remembered of different fighting styles and clips and created something of my own. To a third person, it would have looked like something which combined Taekwondo, Muay-Thai, and just a knowledge of weak points of the body with a healthy dose of quick reactions mixed in.

A knock came on my door, jolting me from my thoughts. Sighing slightly at the continuous knocking, I disentangled myself from Visenya's embrace and moved towards the door, opening it fully.

A blur shot into my room, colliding with my abdomen hard enough to make me fall on my ass—'once again dammit!'—and Arya Stark's face came into view. The young girl gave a wide smile, her grey eyes making my throat momentarily choke up as I remembered an eerily similar pair of eyes, only they had been dead to the world.

"JON!", she screamed, her high-pitched voice and the red cheeks making me just cuddle her as I laughed.

Shrieking with laughter, She stood up from my chest and walked towards the bed before climbing up on it and dropping beside Visenya, her face scrunched up in distaste at the sleeping girl.

"Lyanna! Lyanna!", she chanted as she shook my sister in an effort to wake her up.

"What are you doing here Arya?"

She turned towards me and hid under the blankets before her voice came out.

"Septa Modane chase me!"

Laughing at the girl, I shut the door and sat at the end of my bed as Arya sat on Visenya's waist and started shaking the girl, bouncing up and down in her eagerness. It only took moments before the older girl was groaning and waking up, her bleary eyes looking at the grinning four-year-old.

"Ugghhh, gerroff me stupid!", the sleepy girl moaned, making Arya dissolve into giggles as she dropped fully on her, her head resting on her neck as she snuggled into the warm furs.

Shaking my head at the two of them, I got up and moved to my side of the bed before I closed my eyes and laid down, only to open them tearfully when Arya shifted and her leg came dropping down on my balls.

I stuffed my face into my pillow and groaned out my pain, holding out hope that I wouldn't have such surprises with Visenya, her leg was much stronger.

"Hey, did we break him?"

"I don't think we broke him, it would have been possible if these would have been alive and well."

"Then why isn't he blinking?"

"Shocked I guess."

"You are stupid!", Arya finally said, ending the back-and-forth between her and my twin.

"What the fucking fuckity kind of fucking shit is this?"

Both of them looked at me like I was the dumbest human on Planetos at that moment—which, to be honest, I did deserve—before Arya cracked up and started howling with laughter, Visneya following moments later.

"No! No, no, no. You don't get to drop three dragon eggs in my lap and then laugh at me! Where the fuck did you even find them?"

Still shaking with their laughter, Arya just pounded her fist on the bed and got up on shaky legs before throwing her arms around me. As I hugged her and shook my head at her antics, Visenya spoke

"Arya and I were sitting on the Weirwood inside the Godswood when she slipped between the roots and landed inside a furrow in the ground. Turns out the tales of Jacaerys Velaryon's Vermax laying eggs in Winterfell's crypts may have had a morsel of truth in them."

I looked from the three eggs in my lap to the smiling face of my sister and then something clicked in my mind, like a puzzle piece suddenly fitting in the slot, I just knew what had to be done now.

"Arya, would you like to learn how to shoot with a bow and arrow?"

"YES!", she positively screamed out her response to my question, causing me to wince due to her proximity with my ears and my sister to smother her chuckles with her forearm. Giving her a mild glare—which just made her laugh all the harder!—I turned towards Arya and thought of a way to make her leave us for now.

"Well then you need to go and sleep now, Lyanna and I will start teaching you tomorrow."

With a kiss to both of our cheeks, the 'she-wolf' of Winterfell ran out of the door, her laughter echoing through the corridors, bringing a smile to our faces before I shut the door and looked at the eggs, all mirth gone from my mind.

The eggs weren't dead in the slightest, the warmth inside them and the fire inside me told me that much. And I even had a way by which I could hatch them, after all 'Fire and Blood' was something Game of Thrones told me plenty of.

Visenya immediately cradled one of the eggs to her chest, her fingers stroking lovingly over the bluish-white egg. My own fingers were drawn to a black-violet egg, its size a little bigger than the others. The last egg was a striking red-orange color and while I could feel the warmth from it, it was muted compared to the one in my hands.

"Now, we just need a way to hatch them."

Chuckling at her excitement, I dropped down beside her and took all the eggs, binding them with the blanket we had, and then pushed them beneath our bed. Turning towards my sister I spoke

"Hatching them is easy enough, we just need to burn them with a human sacrifice or our own blood smeared upon them.", Visenya's expression told me all she thought of the former, reminding me of the Septa's or Catelyn's face when they caught sight of us,

"What is difficult is hiding them after they hatch, and what we will do afterwards, because as good and terrifying Aegon's conquest was, after the death of the dragons, Targaryens lost all their power."

Visenya only hummed in response and said after a few moments, "There is the Faith to deal with too. Throughout the reign of Targaryens the Faith always had a leg up on them with how fanatical the public can be and how they could portray the Targaryens as the benevolent rulers one day and sisterfucking-inbred foreigners the next."

While not an overly religious person in my old life and somewhat of a skeptic regarding the existence of gods or higher powers, the last decade had removed every doubt I had ever harbored of any god existing. But the propaganda and the culture of The-Seven-Who-Are-One was laughable a the best and completely despicable at its worst.

The Old Gods had Brynden Rivers and the Children of the Forest to prove their existence, the Valyrian Gods had dragons and Valyrian Magic to prove their and even Rhi'lor had his sycophantic followers who had magical powers, but the Seven? They were a joke taken up to such a ridiculous level that from their point of view, the Father, the dispenser of Justice favored Gregor Clegane over Oberyn Martell...I mean what the actual fuck?

Deciding to ponder upon such thoughts later, I grabbed Visenya's hand and we went to the Godswood once again for our practice, the subject of those unhatched eggs and the flying through the air occupying our minds the whole time.

The next day I woke to an incessant pushing on my back and with a muffled groan I picked my body off the bed to look upon Visenya.

"Hey, can you help me?", she asked, a slight hint of panic in her voice the redness on her hand waking me up fully to the possibility that my sister may have had her first period, or moonblood as it was known on Planetos.

"Oh Fuck! We need to go to Maester Luwin, wait! I will call him here, you must be in pain if you are bleeding down there!"

"Down there?", she repeated dumbly before I felt a slap to my face and a punch to my stomach as Visenya shrieked

"NO, YOU DUMBASS I AM NOT BLEEDING DOWN THERE!"

"Oww," I moaned in pain, my gaze going slightly out of focus due to the sudden punch to my kidneys. "Then why the fuck is there so much blood on my bed in the morning?"

"I cut my hand to smear blood on the eggs but now I don't know how to wrap the wound with just one arm." she explained sheepishly.

Now that I wasn't panicking at my sister becoming a woman flowered, I could see the small cut at the joining of her wrist and palm. It was barely an inch long, but being daft as she was, my dearest sister had cut directly on the top of her vein.

Grumbling at her and slapping her upside the head once for good measure, I wrapped her wrist and palm in the linens we had after washing her hand with scalding hot water from our hearth. When that was done, I looked at the eggs on the floor, their surfaces glistening with blood, blood which wasn't dripping down to the floor at all despite however much they were rolled or shifted. Putting it up to the demand or hunger of the hatchlings within, I cut my own palm at the center and dripped some blood on each of the eggs before putting them in the fire. We had realized years ago that fire, ice, and extreme temperatures didn't affect us as much as they affected a normal person. We wouldn't survive being thrown into a Volcano or Dragonfire, but putting our hands in a fire didn't affect us at all beyond a warm sensation in our hands.

However, this time when I pulled my hand out of the fire, there was not a bloodied palm or a shallow cut that greeted me. It was a scabbed over and already healing gash on my skin as if two to three days had already passed instead of the two to three minutes since the self-inflicted wound.

"Well, that is new," Visenya commented as she looked at my hand, her chin resting on my shoulder and her own hand delving into the fire before us the next moment, the linens burning off and falling as ashes. When she removed her hand a few moments later, all that was left behind was burnt and dried blood, not a single mark suggesting that there had even been an injury at all.

"We cannot keep these eggs here. While no one comes inside our rooms other than Arya, I'd rather not take the risk and find ourselves facing our 'father' regarding why we have dragon eggs being roasted in our hearth." Visenya said after a few moments as she stood up and walked towards the door. Sighing at the situation now we were in, I too started to move after her, thinking of the places where we could provide the eggs regular fire and heat.

Visenya had just opened the door when a hiss came from behind us. Alarmed at the sudden sound, both of us jumped forwards and turned around only to watch mesmerized the blood on the eggs bubbled and hisses, moving in erratic patterns as if tentacles of a Cephalopod.

As the seconds ticked by in my mind, the blood moved more and more before it abruptly stilled and disappeared from the eggs.

Both of us looked at each other with wide eyes before I grabbed her hand and pulled her outside towards the Godswood, knowing that whatever had happened right now, took place because of the amalgamation of the bloodlines inside us. I could only hope that the dragons inside didn't grow fur due to some weird magical phenomenon to better complement the Wolfs Blood and affinity we had for the Direwolves.

'Please don't let them turn into a furry dragon with a penchant for giving licks and rubbing against our legs!', I prayed to Vhagar, the Valyrian god of Magic.

Of course, this being my life, the dragons had to be changed somehow by the magical blood we had just fed them, something I wouldn't come to know until weeks later.

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