Wow, it has been a long time since I updated this fic 0_0 Time flies!
I remember making this fic around 2019, loving GOT and Mowgli at the same time. I think the dialogues were amazing, which was why I wanted to bring this to GOT. And then, I wasn't sure if people liked the fic because it was meant to be Jonery-centric, centring the feels and all.
Really the romance parts and trying to implement some stuff from Mowgli while still being GOT simultaneously. So, I'm not sure if people like that stuff. I hope you do!
Plus, work got in. So separating my time to write and work is tough.
Anyway, after House of the Dragon, I thought of going back here, and here I am!
Sorry for the long wait, enjoy!
Somewhere in the North
Sansa panted as she padded across the snowy hills, trying to catch the battered wolf in front of her.
She's surprised Theon was still able to trot faster despite the winter morning, she has thicker fur than his. Well….whatever furs is left of his. Ramsay has pretty much nearly skinned his fur naked. He looked more like a big mongrel than a wolf. How he could stand the cold is beyond her understanding, the cold wind is still blowing hard.
"How much further?" Lady Sansa asked through the cold wind, she could tell that a snowstorm was about to brew soon and the sun was no longer visible.
"Not any closer, I'm afraid," Theon panted coldly, "We have to keep moving."
"But you are freezing," She shuffled further to him, trudging through the snow with all her strength. She regrets not practising her running better as a cub, now she struggles to pad through the snow. Nymeria would laugh at her when she couldn't even catch up.
Lady Sansa pushed herself to him, hoping that she could provide him with a little more heat for his short fur. For Theon looked so pitifully cold and weak.
"We have to keep moving," he whimpered, "By now Ramsay would know that we are missing, their tradition of hunting shifters is strong. He won't stop until he can find you."
"But…." she tried to protest.
"Look," Theon's head perked up, making Sansa follow his line of sight.
In front of them, is a running river. The flowing currents of water were calm, yet she could pick up the strength of the current. Not even the cold could freeze the great rivers of the North.
Can she swim, she wonders. Can she paddle her way? Maybe. But it's Theon she worries. He won't be able to make it in this state.
"We have to cross, now." Theon coughed, and he padded to the waters, testing it with his paws. She heard him yelp and backed off a bit, but he quickly recovered and all his paws into the rivers.
Sansa gulped, she had to try, it's the least she could do for him.
But as soon as she stepped into the water with just a paw, she yelped. "I can't!"
"It's the only way to remove our scent from the hounds," He replied, "Boltons have a pack of Hound who bent their will to them, laws are nothing to them, you know this."
"But it's too cold," she whined. She felt bad to whine like this but she couldn't take it, she had survived harsh winter many seasons ago in her castle, but not this. Her fur can't handle it, "I can't, I won't make it. I'll die."
"I've seen what his hounds do to a person. This way is better," he managed to give her a snarl, although it sounded pitiful. If this is his way to threaten her, he is actually doing a good job. For she can't imagine what he had witnessed while in captivity of that Clan. Even their sigil made all her fur stand up in fear.
Whimpering sadly, she forced herself to dip her paws into the waters. It's cold. It's very cold.
Sansa could feel the cold like a thousand needles piercing her, it was almost enough for her to go back up again. But she had to push on for her survival. Or else, all will be for nothing. She forced herself to swim, driven by a primal instinct to survive.
Theon's struggle was evident as he swam beside her, his movements weaker and more erratic, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps.
By the time they reached the far bank, Theon was barely able to pull himself out of the water, Sansa had helped him up, putting his weight on her body before she shook herself from the dripping water.
Sansa nudged him with her muzzle, "Are you alright?" her heart heavy with the weight of his suffering.
"Don't worry about me," His body shook violently, and she could see the red patches on his exposed skin where the cold had taken its toll. But he managed to pull himself together and padded forward, his will to survive was still strong, "Let's keep moving."
The Lady could only nod and followed his lead again. As much as she wants to rest, the Bloodhounds are probably after their trails already. They must keep moving into the deep forest of winter.
They continued their journey, the landscape around them bleak and unforgiving. The snow crunched beneath their paws, and every step felt like a battle against the elements. The wind whipped through the trees, carrying the scent of distant pine and the ever-present threat of danger.
Sansa kept her senses sharp, her ears pricked for any sound that might signal an approaching threat. Theon's steps were uneven beside her, and she knew they had to find shelter soon. The thought of him collapsing in the open, exposed to the cold, filled her with dread.
"Are you certain?" she asked again, "Perhaps we should rest."
"Let's journey a little further," he replied, his tongue lolling out with exhaustion, "I want to make sure that we can stay away from the hounds."
She pursed her lips and nodded, remembering that they were still in danger, and they continued to trudge forward in this harsh winter.
Winter used to be her favourite season in the North, something felt so magical when the white powder falls gracefully from the sky.
But now, she felt as if the snow looked a lot more different than what she remembered in her childhood.
All felt wrong. Horribly wrong.
The pack did not survive. They are all scattered like dust in the wind, with no way of knowing who is dead and who survived.
Father. Mother. Robb. She knew that they were all dead, for the mad Lion made sure that she knew it. She can still remember the day when Tywin ordered the attack, leaving him to die painfully under infections and succumb to his wounds. And when the leader died, so did the pack.
Mother and Robb were slaughtered like pigs. When she heard how her eldest brother died, she wanted to vomit, curse the gods, and cry.
"They experimented on his body, making him shift halfway. Only the wolf's head remained in his human body. He's no more than a deformed Direwolf shifter."
"Your mother squealed like a pig."
The Lady of Winterfell whined, remembering with sorrow to learn how her family died.
Arya. Bran. Little Rickon. Margery.
She never heard any news of them all. She wondered where they were.
Even looking for Jon and Dany doesn't sound bad at all. She felt horrible remembering how she treated her half-brother and his lover. She wondered if the dress compensates, but it wasn't enough. She wonders if Dany knows how she always tried to ignore her.
And now…
"We can rest here," Theon's voice broke her thoughts.
The Lady perked up to see the Mongral found a fallen tree, its massive trunk half-buried in the snow. The roots had torn from the ground, leaving a hollow beneath that might offer some protection from the wind.
Great! Enough to cover them for shelter.
The Mongrel sneezed and quickly padded towards the roots of the tree, Lady followed inside. She nudged him into the hollow, her eyes filled with concern. Theon collapsed onto the ground, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Sansa curled up beside him, pressing her body against his, hoping to share what little warmth she had left. His fur, sparse and patchy, did little to protect him from the cold, and she could feel the chill radiating from his skin.
"Are you alright?" she asked, genuinely concerned for the Shifter who betrayed her pack and saved her from Ramsay Bolton.
"Don't worry about me," he whimpered pitifully as he laid his head on the ground filled with snow and he shivered. "Let's rest for a while, we'll move again in an hour."
She nodded, "Alright." The Lady got up a little and placed her torso onto his back, hoping to give him more warmth. Out of the two of them, she can handle this condition better than Theon. As much as she hates what she has done to her pack, she still needs him for her journey to Castle Black. They must survive together.
The pack survives.
As the night wore on, Sansa kept a silent vigil, her eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of danger. She knew they couldn't stay here forever, but for the moment, they were safe.
With her droopy eyes, she yawned and finally, allowed herself to succumb to her exhaustion.
Mereen
Rhaegar was in a field full of white grass.
Everything felt so soft and beautiful, it's nothing like their Pyramid home where everything is sand. The Young Prince felt like he knew the place, but he was unsure of its name or how he got to see the place. He just knew that in his heart, this is where he belongs.
"Hello?" he cried, wondering if there was anyone out there. "Can you hear me?"
Silence.
Fine, at least he needs to know where he is. He turned around, but all he sees is more white grass with soft powder and high mountains. There are no living creatures, and even the trees are all...bare.
What is this place?
"You look like Jon."
Rhaegar gasped and turned around.
There, he was met face-to-face with a rather slim young man with long dark hair. Almost as long as Kepa's. He wore a strange outfit with dark and longer sleeves.
Rhaegar cocked his head, "Jon? As in, my father, Jon?"
"You know Jon?" the young man stepped forward to him.
How can this man not know Kepa? Everywhere Kepa goes, people know him. He and his family. "Don't you know?" he laughed, "He is my Kepa."
The man looked confused, "What is Kepa?"
Rhaegar laughed again. Why does this man not know Valyrian? Everybody knows it, even Ser Barristan. "It's called Father, silly."
The man's eyes widened, "You mean….Jon Snow is your Father?"
This time, it's the Young Prince's turn to be confused. He knows Muna is always called Kepa by Jon, but never his last name because they are Targaryen. "Umm….My Papa's last name is Targaryen. I do not know who is Jon Snow."
The man crossed his arms and looked away, clearly trying to think of something else. After a while, he looked back at him, "Is your mother Daenerys Targaryen."
"Yes," he said, "She is Queen of Mereen." He wanted to tell more about his family, wanting other people to know who his family was. How stupid someone doesn't know of his Muna and Kepa.
"So….you are their Children?"
"Of course," Rhaegar said, "everybody knows that."
Suddenly, the man looked happy. Happy. His smile was spread across his cheeks, and his eyes twinkled with joy. "You mean….they are alive now?"
Rhaegar felt annoyed, this man was foolish. "Of course they are. They are the King and Queen of Mereen."
The man looked up to the skies, "Thank the gods," he murmured then to him. "Thank you."
"What for?" he blinked in confusion. Who is this man?
Suddenly, a huge grey wolf appeared beside him, looking at him with curiosity. There really is another wolf aside from his family!
But from the skies, he heard a caw of a bird. When he looked up, he saw a black bird gliding towards the man and the wolf, landing on the man's shoulder. It cawed again, and from his forehead, he saw an eye open widely. The boy froze, it was not just any eye. It's a third eye!
"GET OUT!" a scary female voice hissed.
The Young Prince opened his eyes, and he was back to his lessons with Missandei and his twin. The white field is gone, and his library stands still as if nothing had happened. Huh, that's strange. It was like he was really there.
"Prince Rhaegar," his tutor and caretaker called him, a book in her hand, "I know you just had your morning patrol with the King, but you must pay attention."
Immediately, the young Prince straightened his back, "Yes Missandei."
"Now," she clapped, "Onto the next page….."
Rhaegar lazily flipped the pages of his book, groaning with boredom before his eyes looked out the window for a while. He wondered about the quick dream he had just now.
Was it really a dream though? But it felt so real, he almost thought that he was in that land with white grass.
And then there was that 'Direwolf' that he saw running at the city during their morning patrol. He was taught that there are no other Direwolves except their family, the closest Shifters that might relate to them are the Dunewolves. But they are smaller with shorter fur than them, and most of them are also brown coloured while Kepa and he had white and black. Missandei said there were no other wolves like them.
This made him wonder….Who was that Direwolf?
"Why would the Hyenas try to penetrate our borders?" Jon asked his councils, "They know this is our territory."
"Perhaps they are restless, Your Grace," The leader of the Centaur replied, his hands clasped behind his back. "These Clans tend to be daring when they are desperate."
"Desperate for what?" The King of Mereen asked.
"Perhaps to change," Ser Barristan answered, "What you and the Queen had done, it has changed how they adapt. A new season is upon them."
"And I have established a better system instead of slavery," Dany chimed beside him, she has been a lot more brave to speak her mind as of late. Her pregnant state left her unable to stand for a longer time as now she was the only one sitting, but that did not diminish her strength to debate.
"That was not what the Harpies Clan saw," his mentor told him as he looked at the table filled with scrolls in front of them, "We have destroyed their tradition, and therefore, in extension, have waged war against them."
"To which we won." Those Hawks were nothing but a thorn in their side when they first approached them to return to their old ways. Their flights were swift and clear, zooming like lightning and giving the Black Dragon and the White Dragon a hard time fighting them. Even the Centaurs had a hard time marking their target in the air.
But none could match a Direwolf like Jon. No one had ever seen his form, and he was considered a new creature in these lands. You can see and feel their surprise when Ghost managed to leap up in the air and catch its leg, bringing a harpy down to the ground and tearing its flesh.
Ghost is as swift as them. The Direwolf with the blood of the Dragon can feel the wind shifts when another creature is approaching, it made it easier for him to catch the Harpies and let his Centaurs and Dothraki armies deal with them on the ground.
And from that point on, everyone knew the power of the Wolf and the Dragon.
Something Essos had never seen before.
"Perhaps they want to bring back what they are used to, Your Grace," Varys hummed, "There have been some incidents happening, but we were able to anticipate them."
"That won't last long," Jon murmured. "Our dragon forms aren't big enough to scare them now."
The council remained silent for a while before Greyworm opened his mouth, "What would you have us do, Your Grace?"
"We are going to need to double our defences," he hummed as he looked at the map that carved Essos, "Increase our border patrols, and snuff any signs of rebellion."
"Understood, Your Grace," the Centaur bowed.
Jon sighed. He wished he had learned a lot more about ruling back in Winterfell, but such a subject is forbidden to him. He had to learn them by experience. But even if he learned a thing or two about politics, it is completely different to Essos. Here, money speaks louder than loyalty.
But still….he was sure they had a common ground already. So what made them try to penetrate their territory? Did someone breach their agreement so that they can go back to how they used to be?
"Perhaps Daario may have some words on this," Greyworm added.
They all turned to the Jaguar of a Sellsword, who had been observing them all and not speaking yet. His behaviour around him irked Jon. There were times Jon wanted to kick him out of the council and let him remain their warrior working under Greyworm.
But to his credit, he does give good information, any news that Varys couldn't hear from his birds, Daario managed to claw it out. Even better, he knows the enemy's battle strategies. Thus, making it useful for Jon, gaining future plans and tactics of the enemies, keeping them steps ahead.
But the way he lurks around, watching Dany in the pyramids makes his hair stand. He was suspicious of his intention, yet he showed nothing but loyalty to them.
Especially towards Dany, which made him even more suspicious.
The way he had been eyeing her made the wolf inside him angry. He had to restrain every urge of himself to not tear him apart, for he is a worthy ally. He would prefer that he work with him more often but his strength lies where Dany mostly does the Hunting, which gives him better information about the city.
But Dany, to her credit, also knew his intentions. She knows how to shut him down when he gets flirty, and she makes sure that her love is apparent to him when they are together, which makes him relieved.
But still….
He shook his head, now is not the time to think of such things. They must protect the bloodline and the city. It is the duty of an honourable Alpha, his uncle would want him to be one.
"What have you found, Daario?" he asked.
Daario placed his hands behind his back before facing him, "The Hyenas are plotting with the Harpies, Your Grace." There was silence in the area, letting Daario finish, "A rebellion is sure to arise, but it seems that they are trying to attack from within."
"How so?" Jon asked.
"After you conquered Slaver's Bay, there have been disagreements, as you all may have known," he answered, "Naturally, the Hyenas and the Harpies have found a common enemy."
"Hyenas and Harpies have conflicted for years," Ser Barristan said, "What makes them want to fight back?"
"We managed to capture a Harpy recently," Daario said, "We tortured him for information, and that was what we found."
Jon swore he knew something like this could happen. The Harpies and Hyenas are an advantage of numbers if they are combined. Furthermore, some of the slaves he heard did want to have their old life back because of how 'simpler' it was back then.
"We have given them their own territory," Dany said, "What is it that they want again?"
"They think we are taking over their lands," the Jaguar shifter reported to the Queen, "They want their slaves back, and the Harpies want the Fighting Pit back."
"Those Barbaric traditions of duel?" Daenerys said in disgust, even in her pregnant state, she could still relay her anger that could even freeze Ghost, "How low can they get, having those poor slaves fighting amongst themselves? While I'm alive, I won't allow these primitive traditions to continue. That is not what we fought for."
"I am afraid it's not as simple as it sounds, Your Grace," he said.
"Why is that?" Jon already sounded irritated, trying to suppress his emotions from this hectic politics.
Daario turned to Greyworm, who nodded at him to continue. The Centaur nodded back, "Your Grace, after my patrol from the Eastern borders, we were reported that some of my Centaurs were eliminated."
"What?" Jon furrowed his brows.
He nodded, "From what we saw, the marks from their wounds were from a planned attack. No other shifters would do this save for wolves. Their bite marks were also smaller."
"The Hyenas," he growled.
"It's not just that, Your Grace," he added, his face looked as stern as ever, but he could tell that there was also anger in them, "When we were also travelling in the Dunes after our visit from Pentos, we found a Cheetah shifter body scavenged."
"Shit," Ser Barristan swored, "Why is a Cheetah even wandering around in the Dunes?"
"There were talon marks, Ser," the Centaur answered, "His neck was also broken as if he fell from a thousand leagues."
"The Harpies," Jon grumbled, "They are waging war against me."
"It seems so," Ser Barristan hummed as he stroked his white beard, "Have the scouting perimeter doubled?"
"Yes, Ser Barristan," The Centaur answered diplomatically, "We had the Dessert Wolves help for this. They too are trying to expel the Hyenas as they broke the Water truce more often than before now. But their numbers were also decreasing as the rain has just poured this week."
Dany nodded, "Make sure they are given proper shelter. We do not want another victim to the plays of these savages. Especially to our allies."
Greyworm bowed, "At once, Your Grace."
"One more thing, Your Grace," This time, Varys finally spoke after hearing them discuss their perimeter, "The Wise Masters of Yunkai seems to be open to negotiating, for I have received word from my little birds that they are heading this way in a few more days."
"Is that so?" Jon crossed his arms, he should strip the names 'wise masters' from these slave traders once he has the chance.
"I just received it a moment ago while we were discussing," he waved a dove away from the balcony and the bird took off. Jon didn't even notice there was a bird, but he knew Varys kept these 'pets' for his information, which is quite handy. "It appears that they want to negotiate some terms."
Jon furrowed his brows, "I'll decide the terms," he said.
"We must be careful, Your Grace," Varys said, "Right now, the Hyenas and Harpies are gaining numbers."
"So are we," The King exclaimed.
"But we must consider the fact that these clans have a cultish way of recruitment," he explained, "Right now, you may have freed these slaves to be able to build a proper city. However, the aftermath of the conquer has left the city without enough funds to support the people."
Jon fumed, he was right at that part. These 'Wise Masters' do have something they don't have much. Coins. Thus…recruitment to Greyworm's herd isn't simple. The Dothrakis did help, but they only guarded the Mountain areas and did not wish to come to Mereen as they found their home better on the plains of Mereen, thus, their Southern border is a lot more guarded.
"Shall we have the Dothrakis to assist the Northern Borders?"
"If we do, we will lose the South defence," Ser Barristan pointed out, "Bringing them here is like sentencing them to death. For the seas are what they despise the most."
Jon sighed, this is definitely getting nowhere. It's hard to suppress these issues when they are lacking in numbers. The Hyenas and Harpies are overkilling and threatening the herds, although they are not exactly breaking the laws, even they are still able to abide by the Water Truce. This is very complicated.
"At the moment, let us secure the perimeters first," he said before turning to Greyworm, "Bar the gates and borders, I do not want anyone leaving afternoon. The risk of another hunt is too high, we're going to need to keep away from the Dunes for the time being. Ensure that our people take the East seas if they ever want to avoid the Harpies."
"Understood, Your Grace," Greyworm bowed before turning back to his leader, "But we can't do this forever. Ships are not always available as we rely most on trades."
"Then we shall temporarily do this until we can solve these overhunt," he concluded, "These slaughterings will need to stop, the line between hunting and murder must be drawn."
"Yes, Your Grace," The Centaur hummed.
"Greyworm, work with Daario on the scouts and guards. You both are going to need to work together to spot them, and keep each other safe."
"At once," Daario bowed.
"If there isn't anything else, you are all dismissed,' The King said.
The three of them bowed respectfully, and they turned to leave.
"Ser Barristan," Jon called, the old Kingsguard turned back, "Will you stay?"
He nodded and stayed behind, looking at his leaders, hands behind his back.
Once they closed the doors, Jon sighed and rubbed his temples. Somehow, he understood now why his father/uncle had wrinkles on his forehead. These politics are complete headaches.
"There is one in every clan, it seems," Dany finally broke the silence, "Two in mind."
"It seems so," Jon hummed, still looking hard at the map of Essos where the Dunes lie.
"And they all seem to ruin special occasions," Ser Barristan added.
Jon took a deep breath and exhaled, letting out all the headaches of the situation, "What am I going to do with them."
Suddenly, she smiled slyly, "They'd make a very handsome throwrug."
The King quickly looked up at his mate, who suggested such a thing to eliminate the problem. "Dany," Jon scolded her lightly.
She chuckled, "And just think, Jon. And whenever they get dirty, you can take them out and beat them."
Jon couldn't help but follow, "Well, as much as your suggestions sound tempting, that is never our way, my dear."
"I know," she smiled lovingly at him before leaning at the back of the chair. "But if the Hyenas and the Harpy clans do not like our way, then we have a serious problem. Our cubs won't be able to start their first training for the Running."
"They can," their mentor suggested before turning back to the map and pointing at a specific area, "The beach of Mereen."
"But it's too open," she protested, "A harpy could snatch one of our cubs if we aren't careful, and Ser Barristan isn't getting any younger even though he has been protecting us all along."
"You are right," Jon crossed his arms, trying to think of any solutions but found none. Why do they resist change for the better for everyone? "I can look after them, but there will be moments when I am not there to watch them too."
"Varys can," she answered
He grumbled at the suggestion of the Scavenger bird, "Considering that he is also a bird for the Lions, I don't exactly trust the vulture."
"If I may, Your Grace," Ser Barristan cleared his throat, "Perhaps we can ask for an audience with these Wise Masters."
"But we know what they want," Dany exclaimed, "Slaveries."
"Yes, and this is where we must establish our power," Ser Barristan replied, "Once we capture another one, you are going to have to demonstrate your power once again. Show them your temper and power."
"By burning them?" Jon concluded.
"Yes," he said, "With Fire and Blood. Just as the words of your House."
Jon looked down for a while, thinking back on how he managed to burn several lands to take Slaver's Bay and 'buy' the Unsullied. There were necessary processes to obtain them, with fire and blood. Jon felt invisible when he first had his taste of victory with his new form, he was unstoppable.
Until a spear landed on his arm.
It took him a while to recover, but now he could thank Ser Rodrik's training, which helped him hunt down his enemies swiftly. He still needed to learn to roost in the skies but in the lands? He was a lot more unforgiving.
"I am more used to the wolf in me," Jon said, "My dragon form may not be as big as I wished to fight a war." His dragon form may be bigger than a horse, but it wasn't enough to intimidate coming ships or when they shelter in their fortresses, giving the enemies time to shoot him. He had heard stories that his ancestors managed to burn down Harrenhal, but him? Not yet.
"Then we must demonstrate it for the second time," his mentor said, "we cannot let them underestimate us. Queen Daenerys cannot shift yet, but you? You must show that you are in power. Not just in lands, but also in the skies."
"I see your point," he hummed, his dragon form has been successful, he has to say. But when it comes to business, his wolf form is faster. Furthermore, this place, and perhaps anywhere, hasn't seen dragons for hundreds of years. Such platforms do not exist save Dragonstone. And if he fights with his dragon form, he has to be careful not to burn his own army. Otherwise, his form does have tremendous benefits in showing power.
That is for battle, but not the battle inside the city.
Jon then looked up, having thought of something, "If that's the case, tell Greyworm and Daario to capture more rebels. I will demonstrate my power to them all on what it means to go against us."
Ser Barristan smiled and bowed, "As you wish, Your Grace."
The Young Prince watched the herd of Centaurs marching out the gates of the pyramids, all ready and in arms with several Jaguars and Cheetahs beside them.
That's strange, he thought the scouts go with their own pride and pack. Something was going on, and it made him feel excited. He can't wait to join the Running so that he can get to join them. Kepa doesn't allow him to go with him further beyond the borders.
He sighed, "When will I join Kepa?" He can imagine himself running alongside his father to chase away those mangy stupid pooches. But Ser Barristan said that he must join the Running so that he can join Kepa. He huffed in disappointment, feeling that he was unable to do anything because he was just a little cub.
As his gaze wandered, a sudden movement caught his attention—a flash of grey darting through the city streets.
His heart skipped a beat. It was the same direwolf he had seen earlier that morning, a creature that seemed almost out of place in the heat of Meereen, yet oddly familiar.
Its sleek brown fur glistened in the sunlight as it weaved effortlessly through the crowds, moving with a grace that left Rhaegar mesmerized.
"There are no direwolves save us in Mereen," Muna and Kepa always said that to him, yet he is seeing one again today! But if he finds this direwolf and shows it to Kepa and Muna, Kepa will definitely allow him to join the pack! He can finally join the Running!
Without a second thought, he turned from the balcony and sprinted across his room, the excitement bubbling up inside him.
"Lya will never guess what I saw!" he muttered under his breath as he burst through the door, his feet pounding down the narrow stone corridors of the palace. He darted across the hallways, slipping through servants he passed, most telling him to be careful. But the cub did not care, the excitement was raw and he couldn't contain it.
Once he reached his mother's chambers, Rhaegar pushed the door open, his excitement bubbling over.
The first thing he saw was his twin sister sitting cross-legged beside their mother on the big bed. Missandei knelt beside her, gently running a comb through Lya's long, silver hair. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the room, casting a warm glow over the peaceful scene.
Lya glanced up, her eyes lighting up when she saw Rhaegar pattering towards her.
"Lya," the young Prince exclaimed, "Let's go play!"
"Rhae, Missandei is fixing my hair," she protested as their mother's hand continued her task with her hair.
Before he could protest, Muna smiled, her soft gaze falling on her son as she ran her hand on her stomach, "And where have you been my wild wolf?" she teased, her tone warm and full of affection.
Rhaegar stopped in his tracks, momentarily forgetting the direwolf he had seen. "Was in my room," he simply said.
"You look like in a hurry," she noted, Muna always has a keen eye on them both.
"Well….I was looking for Lya," he answered.
"Come, my darling," she waved for him to come to her.
Not wanting to disobey his mother, he obliged. The Young Prince sat beside her at the side of the bed, and curiously looked at his mother's belly, "It's getting bigger."
"It is," she chuckled, "Any moment now, you'll have a new sibling to play with. Do you want to feel him or her?" she asked. When he nodded, his mother gently took his hand and let it rest on her belly.
Suddenly, he felt movements under his touch, "Woa," he had done this before, but every time it happened, he couldn't help but still feel amazed that his sibling was inside his Muna.
"It seems like he or she knows you," she said.
"I wanna try too, Muna!" his twin sister suddenly chimed.
"Hold still, my Princess," Missandei lightly scolded her, "You don't want me to pull your hair again, don't you? I need to fix your knot."
Lya pouted and Rhae couldn't help but snicker at how his twin looked so frustrated. Teasing his sister is his new habit, and he loves it, especially when she gets mad.
"And it's time for yours too, little pup," his mother said with an authoritative tone, making his heart sink a little.
Even with Mama's state, he did not expect that she could still have a vice grip on him and pull him to his front. "You're not escaping this," she said with a playful grin as she guided him to sit in front of her. "Your hair needs attention too."
"Mama!" Rhaegar groaned, he tried to escape her grip but Mama was strong.
"Hold still," she holds onto his shoulder and he can feel her combing his hair, "Goodness, Rhaegar, you looked like you just played with mud again. Whatever did you do, boy?"
"I was in my room, as I said," he grumbled, crossing his arms.
"You did not change your clothes, did you?" she caught him.
"Umm….no," he sheepishly murmured.
"Rhae, you know how I feel you sweating in your room. And you know how hot the weather is these days."
"Yes, Mama….I forgot," he pouted, why should he? He'll go out again anyway. And speaking of going out, he finally remembered why he came here, "He quickly escaped his Mother's grasp and sat a little further from her, trying to avoid her hold again, "Alright, I'm clean now. Can we go now?"
"Where are we going, Rhae?" Lya asked as their caretaker continued to comb her, clearly, not letting her go as his mother did with him.
"Outside the Pyramids, of course," Rhae exclaimed excitedly. "I think it's rather exciting. You have to come with me. It's amazing!"
"So where is this place that is rather exciting, Rhaegar," Muna asked in a curious and rather cautious way. It's as if she is seeing right through him, as she would most of the time do to them both.
The Young Prince stiffened slightly, his mind racing to come up with something convincing. He turned his head slightly, catching his mother's gaze, which already held a hint of knowing. Missandei paused, her own curiosity piqued as she continued to comb Lya's hair.
Rhaegar gave a sheepish smile. "Uh, it's just… outside the city. Near the old gardens, maybe?" He tried to sound nonchalant, but Daenerys's eyes narrowed, her suspicion evident.
"The old gardens?" Daenerys repeated, her eyebrows arching. "That doesn't sound like the kind of place you two should be wandering to on your own. Especially without telling anyone." Her gaze moved between her children, a mixture of sternness and love in her eyes.
Rhaegar pouted, giving her a disappointed face, "But Muna, your Hunting Party chased the Hyenas off today. And so did Kepa. It'll be safe now, please?" He must find this Direwolf, if he tells about it to Muna, she will think he's just seeing things and she will never allow him to go. He must at least see it for himself, see if it's really true.
Muna gave him a look of suspicion, looking like she was trying to look right through him. She finally sighed, "I'll allow it," she said with a smile, and his heart skipped a beat.
Rhaegar smiled widely and turned to Lya, eyes wide with excitement, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. Lya mirrored his joy, her eyes shining with anticipation.
They could barely contain themselves—they were actually going to see the direwolf together.
Outside the Pyramids
The sunlight filtered down in golden shafts, warming the stone beneath their bare feet.
Rhaegar and Lya walked side by side, weaving through the bustling courtyard and slipping into one of the quieter passageways leading toward the palace edge. The Young Prince's eyes darted around as they moved, making sure no one nearby might overhear them.
As they neared the quieter edges of the pyramid grounds, Lya turned to Rhaegar, her curiosity too much to contain. "So, where are we really going?" she asked, her voice hushed but tinged with excitement.
Rhaegar smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He took a glance over his shoulder, confirming Varys—though nowhere in sight at the moment—couldn't hear them from his aerial vantage point. He leaned closer to his twin, lowering his voice even further. "The Northern Dune."
His twin gasped, "Rhae, Kepa told us not to go there!"
"Yes," he scratched his head mischievously, "But I saw a direwolf going there!"
Lya's eyes widened, her face lighting up with a mix of surprise and excitement. "You mean the same direwolf we saw this morning?" she whispered, her eyes scanning Rhaegar's for any sign of exaggeration.
Rhaegar nodded, the excitement returning to his voice. "I'm sure of it. I saw it earlier today, just before I looked for you. It was just there like it was waiting for something. And then it ran off to the borders"
Lya felt her heart beat faster. The thought of a direwolf—an animal so strongly connected to their family's roots—being here in Meereen felt like fate, like something they had to follow no matter what. "It probably doesn't know they are not supposed to be there, we have to tell him!"
Rhaegar grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. "That's the plan. We just have to make it past the market and the outer gardens."
Lya nodded, "Right. I'll go fly ahead!"
"No," the Prince halted his sister, "Muna and Kepa could see us if you fly. We should stay in the land."
"But the Centaur herd could see us," his sister argued.
He shook his head, "Greyworm took the herd to the Eastern border. So we'll be able to get to the Northern border in no time!"
"Oh, right. Of course!" Lya exclaimed, and together, they waddled their way outside the pyramids.
The Northern Border Dune
"This is the Dune?"Lya chirped quietly as the two children peeked up against what looked like a long rock.
The air was dry, the wind carrying the scent of dust and the far-off sea. The sun hung low, casting long shadows across the undulating landscape, and it made the vast stretch of dunes seem even more mysterious and inviting.
Muna and Kepa never brought them here, yet it looked so exciting and…..strange. They have never been to this kind of place before.
"Follow me," the wolf cub whispered to his sister. Rhaegar's paws sank into the warm sand, and he glanced at Lya beside him.
"This ground is soft," The little dragon's small, scaled body moved gracefully over the dunes, her sharp eyes watching their surroundings. "We should step on the white rocks so we don't fall easily," she suggested.
"I don't see anything dangerous about this place," Rhaegar said.
"Maybe that's why the direwolf came here," Lya replied.
"Then we should start looking," The young Wolf Cub began to sniff the air and the sand. It's definitely a new territory for them, everything is something they had never been to before.
The sand shifted beneath them as they moved, revealing several white rocks. The occasional gust of wind lifted small particles into the air. The Wolf Cub continued to sniff his surroundings, trying to find any sign of a familiar scent of fur, but found none yet. Sand would occasionally fly into his nose and he'd sneeze. His sister stayed beside him, watching her brother do his task.
"Kepa probably hates the Dune because of this," he groaned before continuing to his task.
As he smelled more sand and dust, his nose began to pick up something familiar. Something he'd smelled from Kepa when he was Ghost. He perked up and sniffed again just to be sure….He's right!
The Wolf Cub looked up to find where is the scent leading him, squinting his eyes closely to see what was up ahead.
In front of him is more sand, but this time, more white rocks sticking out of the sand. Well, at least it'll be easier for them to walk.
It was then that Rhaegar's eyes caught something on the horizon—a jagged silhouette standing out against the smooth dunes. He paused, tilting his head curiously, a soft growl escaping his throat.
"What is it?" Lya asked, her voice cautious yet intrigued.
Rhaegar pointed with his snout, and they both moved forward, their curiosity getting the better of them. As they approached, the shapes grew clearer—tall, twisted forms rising out of the sand, their bleached white surfaces almost glowing in the bright sunlight. They drew closer, their paws moving slowly now, a strange unease settling over them.
Lya's eyes narrowed as they reached the first of the shapes. It was massive, towering above them, its surface pitted and cracked. She sniffed at it cautiously, the scent of something old and dry filling her senses. "Rhaegar, look at this," she said, her voice carrying a note of awe.
Rhaegar padded closer, his eyes widening as he took in the sight. It wasn't just a strange rock or a dried-up tree—it was a bone, larger than anything he'd ever seen before.
He stepped back, his gaze drifting around them as he realized the entire area was filled with these bones, scattered across the sand, half-buried by time and wind.
"This place… it's full of them," Lya whispered with unease. She turned her head, looking out at the scattered remains, their shapes twisting and curling like the remnants of a forgotten giant. "We're beyond our borders," She whimpered.
Rhaegar's ears flattened slightly, an instinctive shiver running through him. It felt different now, the thrill of adventure replaced by fear. He should've listened to his father, "Maybe we shouldn't be here," he said softly, his voice almost lost in the wind. But why would the direwolf come here? Did he pick up the wrong scent?
What if the direwolf he saw wasn't really a direwolf? What if it's…..
"Lekia," the Dragon Cub whimpered, scurrying closely to her brother, "I'm scared."
"Come on, let's leave this place," he nudged her to where they came from, quickly padding away.
HIHIHIHIHIHIHI
The eerie silence of the dunes was suddenly broken by a low, echoing laugh, followed by another on the left, and then another on the right, until the air seemed filled with a chorus of unsettling cackles.
Rhaegar's ears perked up, his eyes going wide as he looked around, trying to pinpoint where the laughter was coming from.
Lya tensed beside him, her eyes darting across the dunes. The laughter seemed to come from everywhere at once, echoing off the bones and shifting sands. "What is that?" she whispered, her voice laced with unease.
Before Rhaegar could respond, dark shapes began to emerge from the shadows of the dunes. Hyenas, their yellow eyes glinting with malice, moved in from all sides, their laughter growing louder as they closed in on the twins. Rhaegar's heart pounded in his chest, and he instinctively moved closer to Lya, his small form pressed against her side.
A pack of hyenas moved to the front, their grinning faces filled with a menacing delight. "Well, well, well, we weren't expecting guests today," he cackled.
One, with scruffy fur and sharp eyes, stepped forward, her gaze locked on the two cubs. She must be the leader, "And not just any guests, who stepped out of their Kingdom," she drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. The others cackled behind him, their laughter echoing off the surrounding bones. "My, my…..if it isn't the cubs of the King."
"And so far away from home," the other Hyena cackled evilly, "Say, little Cubs, do you know what we do to Kings who step out of their Kingdom?"
Lya whimpered beside Rhae, hiding behind him. Rhae felt the fear surging in him, but he had to be brave for her. He was the one who brought Lya into this. He must show that he is the future King. "You can't do anything to me," he barked, "My Father will hear about this."
But the Matriarch only laughed and continued to move forward towards them. Every step the Hyenas come to them, is another step back for the cubs, "Oh, but he won't little cub," she hissed, "Not while we have….dinner."
Now, Rhae began to gulp, feeling the true danger of the situation. Kepa had told them stories about them, and here they are. About to do the things that he told them about. He should never have come here, and now…who knows what they will do to them.
As the hyenas closed in, their laughter echoing eerily through the dunes, Rhaegar and Lya braced themselves, pressing against each other, unsure of what to do next.
Suddenly, a shadow passed over them, and the laughter faltered, some of the hyenas looking up. A vulture descended from above, his wings outstretched as he landed in front of them. His sharp eyes took in the scene in an instant, his presence immediately commanding attention.
"Ah, what's going on here?" Varys said, his tone calm, but with an edge that carried authority. He looked down at the hyenas, his gaze sharp and unyielding. "I see you've found yourselves some… entertainment."
The hyenas turned their attention to Varys, some of the laughter fading as they eyed the vulture warily. The leader, however, was undeterred. He looked up at Varys, his grin widening. "And what do you want, bird?" he sneered. "We're just having a little fun with the cubs."
Varys tilted his head, his gaze hardening. "These cubs are under my protection. I suggest you let them go," he said, his voice carrying a tone that brooked no argument.
The scarred hyena snorted, his grin turning into a sneer. "Your protection? And what makes you think we're going to listen to you?"
Varys's wings rustled, and he stepped forward on the bone, his gaze unwavering. "Because I assure you, if anything happens to these two, their mother will not be pleased. And trust me, you do not want to see her displeased. Especially the King."
The hyenas shifted uneasily, the mention of their parents causing a murmur among them. The leader's grin faltered for just a moment, and he looked back at his pack. The laughter had died down completely now, replaced by uncertainty.
Rhaegar and Lya glanced up at Varys, hope flickering in their eyes. Varys continued, his voice smooth and persuasive. "Let them go, and you can leave this place without trouble. Otherwise…" He left the threat hanging in the air, his eyes narrowing.
The hyena leader paused, glaring up at Varys, his lips curling back into a sinister grin. "Otherwise what?" she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "We are not breaking their laws. They are trespassing our territory," she pointed at the cubs with her snout, "And now, without these cubs, her line ends here. And then what power will she hold?"
Varys's feathers ruffled, "Careful now, you do not want to do this," his sharp eyes narrowed, "If you kill them, you are starting another unwanted war. And you know what the Queen is capable of."
"Hyenas and Dragons have been in war since the beginning of time," she snarled, "And now, the blood of the dragons….will end HERE!" And she sprang towards them.
"No!" Varys called out, his voice carrying a note of urgency. He launched himself from the bone with surprising speed, his wings spreading wide as he dived down, placing himself directly between the hyena and the cubs. His talons extended, he aimed for the hyena leader, his presence suddenly fierce and commanding.
The hyena snarled, snapping at Varys, but he kept himself between her and the twins, his voice ringing out again. "Run! Now!" he called to Rhaegar and Lya, his gaze never leaving the hyena.
Rhaegar hesitated for a heartbeat, his small form trembling, but Lya nudged him urgently with her little horns on her head. "Come on!" she screeched, eyes wide with fear and her wings beating quickly, trying her best to fly. Together, they turned, scrambling against the sand as they fled, their hearts pounding with each frantic step.
Behind them, they could hear the snarls and yelps as Varys clashed with the hyena leader, his wings beating and talons striking to keep her at bay. The laughter of the other hyenas echoed through the dunes, but they dared not look back, the urgency of Varys's command propelling them forward.
Rhaegar's paws sank into the hot sand, each stride a desperate attempt to put as much distance as possible between them and the danger behind them. Lya flew close to him, her form sleek and agile as she glanced back, her eyes wide with worry for Varys.
But as they rounded the next dune, they were met with yet another group of hyenas, their yellow eyes glinting with malice. They were cornered, their only way out blocked by the sneering faces of the hyena pack.
"What's the hurry?" one grinned menacingly, "We'd love for you to stay for dinner."
Rhaegar darted the other way to the right where the bones showed an exit, but another pack of Hyenas emerged behind the bones, startling the cubs.
They are trapped.
"What are we going to do, Lekia?" His sister whimpered.
The laughter started again, mocking and echoing through the dunes. "Come here, little puppy."
Despite the fear, he didn't like the mockery. He tried to stand his ground, baring his teeth in an attempt to snarl, but what came out was just a bark—high-pitched and uncertain.
The hyenas erupted into laughter, their voices dripping with derision.
"Oh, the little pup thinks he's scary," one of them taunted, his grin widening as they moved closer.
"That was it?"
"Come on, do it again," one taunted.
Rhaegar's heart pounded, but he clenched his teeth, refusing to back down.
He bared his teeth again, a growl rising in his throat, and this time something changed.
Heat surged within him, an instinct awakening, and before he knew it, a burst of flame erupted from his small jaws.
The fire blazed outwards, scorching the sand and igniting part of the pack. The mocking laughter turned into yelps of panic as some of the hyenas leapt back, the flames driving them away. They scattered, their eyes now wide with shock.
Before Rhaegar could even understand what he had done, the sky seemed to darken, and a massive shadow loomed over the dunes. A deep, powerful roar thundered across the landscape, shaking the very ground beneath them.
Above them, descending from the sky, was a great black dragon—their father.
His dark scales shimmer in the fading light. His wings spread wide, casting a shadow across the dunes as he landed behind the twins and the hyenas. His roar echoed once more before a jet of flame flew out of his jaws and danced towards the pack.
The pack yelped in fear and pain, fire seared through their fur as if they just touched hot iron. Most were engulfed in flame, unable to escape the searing hot fire. The Black Dragon was ruthless, he continued to move in another direction and burn the rest of the pack, burning the surrounding Hyenas.
"Are you alright, cubs," the familiar voice of Varys screeched. The Cubs turned to find the Vulture landing beside them.
But the cubs were too stunned to speak, let alone voice their answers, especially Rhaegar. Now, his father knows that he has disobeyed him.
The surviving hyenas froze, their eyes widening in terror as they looked up at the enormous dragon that had appeared before them. The Black Dragon's eyes blazed with fury, his gaze locked on the hyenas, and his right giant wing covered the cubs.
The Dragon King stood tall, his immense, dark form casting an imposing shadow across the dunes. His eyes blazed with fury as he watched the retreating hyenas, his sharp teeth bared in a snarl that rumbled like a storm gathering strength.
The air seemed to shudder under the weight of his heavy voice as he spoke. "If you ever come near my cubs again..." he growled, his voice low, dangerous, and seething with unrestrained power, something Rhaegar had never heard from his Father at home.
"No, Jon Snow," The hyena leader bowed down swallowing hard, her once-arrogant demeanour crumbling as she faced the full wrath of the Dragon King. "Never. Never again."
The other hyenas exchanged terrified glances, their ears flattened and their tails tucked as they took in the unmistakable threat.
The Dragon King took another slow, "You've been warned, Zholos," talons a deliberate step forward, his yellow reptilian eyes narrowing, and he finally let out a mighty but threatening roar again with a jet of fire bursting out of his jaws.
The hyenas broke, turning and fleeing in a panicked scramble, their once mocking laughter now replaced by terrified yelps. They disappeared into the dunes, no longer willing to test the Dragon King's warning.
The Dragon King watched until the last of them had vanished, his eyes never leaving the horizon until he was sure they were gone. Only then did he relax slightly, his massive wings slowly folding back against his sides. The fire of his fury faded as he turned to look at his children.
Rhaegar's ears drooped as he looked up at his father. The adrenaline of the moment had ebbed away, leaving behind only the weight of what had just happened. He took a step closer, shifting back, and his eyes filled with guilt and fear. "Kepa….I…,"
The Dragon King snarled at him, "You deliberately disobeyed me," his authoritative voice was enough to make Rhaegar freeze. "Both of you…" Lya whimpered as she shifted back too.
"No, it was me, Kepa," he confessed with fear, "I…I brought Lya…"
As he told the truth, their father continued to glare at him before smoke began to surround the dragon and engulf him. There and then, the Black Dragon turned into the famous White Wolf of Essos.
Ghost looked at Rhaegar, his eyes softening but still holding the weight of what had transpired. He sighed deeply, shaking his head. "Let's go home." He then lowered himself to the ground, despite his anger, he was not allowing the children to climb on his back. A sign that Kepa will not allow them to go anywhere other than their father pointed to.
Rhaegar lowered his head, his gaze falling to the sand as he climbed on his father's back. Lya followed behind him, silent, her eyes reflecting her brother's regret. "I thought you were very brave," she whispered.
Before Rhaegar could respond, movement caught their attention. A group of centaurs appeared over the nearest dune, the herd approaching swiftly. Their powerful bodies moved in unison, hooves kicking up sand as they drew near. The centaurs' stern faces mirrored Ghost's concern as they gathered around, taking in the aftermath of the encounter.
Ghost looked up at them as he stood up, his gaze shifting to Grey Worm. The White Wolf nodded in acknowledgement, his voice steady as he spoke. "Scout the dunes again. The hyenas are growing bolder—trying to push into our territory. We can't let them continue unchecked."
Grey Worm nodded, his expression resolute. Without another word, he turned, gesturing for a group of Centaurs to follow him as they moved off into the dunes, sand flew underneath their hooves.
With his children safely on his back, Ghost began moving through the dunes, his powerful legs carrying them across the hot sand, each stride deliberate and steady. Rhaegar and Lya held tightly, feeling the warmth of their father's fur beneath them, the steady rhythm of his movements calming their earlier fears.
"Hold on tight," he told the children before finally darting back to the Pyramids before night falls.
High above, Varys flew in wide circles, keeping an eye on their path before flying forward to alert the Queen.
Unbeknownst to them, a pair of golden eyes watched from afar, hidden behind the enormous bones that jutted up from the sands.
A grey wolf stood silently, her eyes fixed on the white direwolf as he moved across the dunes. She stayed still, her gaze filled with a sense of awe and longing.
"Jon," she wagged her tail in excitement. It has been so long since she saw his form. So very long.
And with cubs! Jon and Dany have cubs! She is an Aunt again!
She watched Ghost carry the two young ones, his presence commanding and protective. There was something about him—something that resonated deep within her. She could see the strength and loyalty in the way he moved, the way he shielded the cubs, just as he did for her.
As Ghost and his family disappeared over the dunes, Nymeria felt a determination well up inside her. She must find a way to meet him, somehow. She has to tell him what happened to the North and his nephew.
The Pyramids
The sun was dipping low on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and deep purple as Daenerys stood outside the great pyramid, her gaze fixed on the desert beyond.
Her hands rested on her growing belly, eyes filled with worry as she scanned the dunes, searching for any sign of her family. She had never felt this anxious since her time in exile, and Jon's death. The evening air was warm despite the sunset, but it did little to ease the tightness in her chest. She had heard of the commotion in the dunes, and whispers of hyenas growing bold, and her heart had been heavy ever since.
She felt the cub in her stomach moving, causing her slight discomfort from the sudden kick. Her hand rubbed the spot where she felt the kick, "Hush now, child. It's going to be alright," she whispered, reassuring her cub, "You'll see. Your father and siblings will be back."
Somehow, the cub inside her seems to understand. The movement slowed down and then he or she was still. Dany sighed, "Thank you, little one."
She gazed back to the horizon, finding any spot of her mate and cubs.
A movement finally caught her attention—a familiar white shape emerging from the dunes. Along with a vulture flying above them.
Ghost came into view, his massive form moving steadily toward the pyramid. Upon his back, Dany could see Rhaegar and Lya, their small figures nestled securely against the dire wolf's thick fur. A wave of relief washed over her, and she let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Daenerys stepped forward, her eyes softening as they drew near. As Ghost stopped before her, Rhaegar and Lya slid down from his back, their eyes wide, clearly unsure of what to expect. Daenerys knelt down, her hands immediately reaching out to pull them both into a hug, her heart aching with love and relief.
"You're safe," she whispered, holding them close, her voice filled with emotion. She pulled back, her eyes scanning over their faces, her gaze lingering on Rhaegar for a moment, searching for any sign of injury. "I was so worried about you three."
Ghost approached, his red eyes meeting his mate's. Slowly, his form shifted once more, the massive Direwolf giving way to Jon's familiar figure, his expression weary but relieved. He gave Dany a small nod, his gaze filled with unspoken words.
Daenerys stood, her hands resting gently on Lya and Rhae's shoulders. "Let's go inside," she said softly, her eyes flicking from Jon to Rhaegar, her concern still evident. She turned, gesturing for Lya to follow her, expecting Jon to bring Rhae himself.
But just as they were about to move, Jon spoke, "You go on ahead first," he said, his voice low but firm. "I need to have a word with our son."
Daenerys paused, her eyes meeting Jon's, understanding passing between them. She nodded, her gaze shifting to Rhaegar, her lips curving into a gentle, reassuring smile. She reached out, brushing a hand over Rhaegar's hair before turning to Lya, and taking her hand. "Come on, little one," she said softly, leading Lya towards the entrance of the pyramid.
Rhaegar watched as his mother and sister disappeared into the dim interior, his heart sinking slightly. He knew what was coming. He turned to face Jon, his father's gaze steady but filled with a gravity that made Rhaegar's heart beat faster. Disappointment and anger.
He looked down at his son, his gaze solemn and full of the weight of what had happened. He took a deep breath, his voice steady but laced with emotion as he began to speak.
"Rhaegar, I am very disappointed," Jon said, his eyes meeting Rhaegar's. The words hung in the air, stark and painful. "You deliberately disobeyed me," he repeated, "And what's worst? You put your sister in danger! What did you think you were doing, Rhaegar?"
Rhaegar looked down, his shoulders slumping, tears already stinging at the edges of his eyes. "I didn't mean to…" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I…I saw something…. Running across the border…and so….I thought.."
"You can chase them on your own?" his father finished for him, making him stop talking. "Rhaegar, we have a herd of Centaurs that Greyworm leads, a scouting party that Daario leads, and your Mother's Hunting party. What makes you think you can do this on your own?"
"I….I…," he hesitated, unsure what to say. With nothing coming up from his mind aside from the truth, he decided to say it, "I just…want to find something….and join the Running as you did, Papa."
His father didn't say anything at first, only silence remains. At first, Rhaegar thought that he might have disappointed his father again. After all, he told them that they were too young. But eventually, he spoke, "Rhaegar, I joined the Running because it was required from my former pack," He explained. "Whether we were prepared or not, we must join because of the tensions between clans and packs. We had to defend our pack. That is why we had to do the Running, and I wasn't prepared for it."
The child's brows furrowed, "But…," he looked up to his father, "You were not scared of anything."
Jon looked away for a moment, letting his son's words sink in. Was he any braver before? All his life he was trying to prove that he belonged, and now, his son is trying to prove his worth to him. How ironic. He turned back to his son, "I was today," he confessed.
"You were?" his son perked up.
"Yes," Jon then kneeled to his level, "I thought I might lose you."
His son gave him a look of surprise, the child must've thought that his father never felt fear or he was always prepared. He didn't dare to tell the part where he was ostracised by the other cubs of the pack, the child isn't ready to know such a thing.
"Oh," he finally hummed, looking down and playing with the hem of his shirt, clearly not expecting the answer. "I….I'm sorry, Kepa."
"It's alright, son," he reassured his boy, clapping his shoulder. "Just don't ever do that again. I'm not japing, Rhaegar Stark-Targaryen."
Hearing his full name caused him to shiver down his spine, if he was a wolf now, his tail would be between his legs now, "I….I didn't know that it would scare you," he looked up to meet his father's eyes, feeling that he now does not need to fear that his father would lose his temper, "But I think those Hyenas were even more scared of you."
Jon laughed and ruffled his son's head, "That's because no one messes with your Father."
Rhaegar giggled and tried to release his grip on his father. He was happy that his Father wasn't too mad at his doing, but at the same time, he felt guilty for not heeding him. Then again, he was trying to prove to him that he saw something. "But, Kepa," he finally said, "I went to see something out there because I wanted to show you. It's something we've never seen before."
"Whatever you saw back there, it's not worthed to go beyond our borders, Rhaegar," Jon said, "Leave whatever it was to the concern of the Hyenas, it's not of our concern, and neither for me and you."
The Young Prince thought about it, he didn't find the Direwolf anyway, though the scent was different from the Hyenas. Did the Direwolf he saw die? Maybe Kepa should at least know about it. "But Kepa," he started, "I saw a Direwolf this morning."
"Did you?" his father hummed, his face was amused.
"Yes, Kepa," he said. "That was why I wanted to look for it in the Northern Border."
"I see," The King looked back to the Dunes where they came from, gazing back at the horizon. Could Rhaegar saw was a Direwolf? There hasn't been one in Essos aside from his family, and the child had never seen one either besides himself. And Jon's fur has completely adapted to the hot climate of Essos, so Rhaegar could mistake the direwolf with a Dune Wolf shifter, "What did it look like?"
The child thought for a second, his eyes looking up at the evening stars. Jon didn't even notice that the day had turned too dark so fast. "Well, the Direwolf was grey."
"And?"
"It was big," the Young Prince described, "Bigger than the Dune Wolves, Kepa. And it looks fluffier."
Jon began to furrow his brows, he now got his attention. If the child could describe such a thing, perhaps it could be true. "Was it with a pack?"
Rhaegar shook his head, "I only saw one."
"Well, Direwolves move in packs," he said, even though he never usually does because of who he is.
"But you didn't," Rhaegar pointed out.
"Yes, but that's because I don't have a Direwolf pack here," he stood up again before looking at the Centaurs, and Jaguar, Dine Wolves and Cheetah shifters, "I have a herd. A pride."
"Oh," Rhaegar looked to where his father was looking, "But…what about that Direwolf I saw?"
"Let's give it more time, son," he stroked the boy's soft curls, "Usually, we'd know that it's a direwolf from its howl."
"But how do we know that that is a Direwolf's howl?"
"Well," he turned back to the child, trying to think of how to describe them. "It's difficult to explain, but….."
AWOOOOOOOOOO
Jon froze, his eyes widening in surprise, his entire body tensing at the unexpected familiar sound that he knew all those seasons ago.
AWOOOOOOOOOO
It howled again.
The night was pierced by the strong, sharp howl that cut through the stillness like a blade that only a certain species of wolf can do. The sound echoed across the dunes, reverberating off the stone walls of the pyramid, powerful and unmistakably wild.
It was a howl he hadn't heard in a long time—deep, strong, powerful and filled with a sense of ancient strength. Something not the Dune Wolves could do. Rhaegar's eyes went wide, and he turned in the same direction as his Father, "Like that?"
"Yes," Jon said in disbelief. He can't believe it. Could it be? The howl was so familiar, except that he had heard it when that particular wolf was a cub like his son and daughter.
AWOOOOOOOOOOOO
He can't help it, he must investigate it fast.
"Kepa, it's a Direwolf," His son exclaimed excitedly, "I was right!"
"Yes, you are," Jon murmured and immediately shifted into Ghost. He must know, his heart where the feeling of homesick is beating wholeheartedly, hoping and wishing that it's true. The White Wolf lifted his head to the sky and responded to the call.
"AROOOOOOOOOO!"
He looked back, letting his ears listen closely.
"Kepa?" Rhaegar asked, apparently he had turned to his form too.
"Hush, child," he growled before turning back to the horizon, "AROOOOOOOOOO!"
He tried again and then concentrated on what replies he might get.
All was silence, dead still…..Until the answer came again.
"AWOOOOOO!"
Another howl, just as strong and sharp, carrying with it the unmistakable presence of another direwolf.
Ghost's ears swivelled toward the sound, his body tense, the familiarity of it tugging at memories from long ago. Someone from the North is here! It has to be it! No wolves of Essos could howl this long from such a far distance! The howl seemed to come from somewhere beyond the dunes, a place shrouded in mystery and darkness.
Just then, Ghost caught the rustle of feathers, and Varys descended from the night sky, landing beside them. The vulture-eyed Ghost with a wary but respectful gaze.
Behind them, the White Lion ran towards them, "What happened?"
"Did you hear it too?" Varys asked, his voice sharp and quick. He shifted his stance, uneasy, as his keen eyes scanned the horizon. "Do you think….it could be….."
"I don't know," he answered, "But we must hurry, see what it is." He needed to find out what it was, and soon. He glanced at Varys, his gaze commanding. "Fly ahead", Ghost commanded, "Find out where the sound is coming from, I will follow from land."
"At once, Your Grace," Varys nodded, his wings flapping as he lifted off the ground, soaring back into the night sky, disappearing beyond the dunes to scout ahead.
Ghost watched him for a moment before turning back to his mentor and his cub. "Rhaegar, run back to your mother. Tell her what happened."
"But Kepa…" Rhaegar tried to protest.
"What did we just speak about, Rhaegar," he growled, "You also have caused enough trouble today. Now, I want you to go back to your Mother." Ghost didn't wait to see what disdained his son looked like as he turned to the White Lion, "Ser Barristan, please take my son inside. Make sure the guards are doubled here, I'm going to take several scouts with me."
"At once, Your Grace," He bowed.
"Kepa, please. I was the one who found the Direwolf first," the Young Prince desperately tried to follow him. "I want to go with you."
"That you have. Now, let the grown-ups do the rest," Ghost replied quickly before darting away from his son and his mentor, running to follow Varys. He heard his cub whine and the mentor scolded him by growling.
When the White Wolf approaches the gates, he sees several Jaguars approaching, seems like they just got back from their scouting. He barked as he ran, "Scouts, with me!"
The Jaguars growled their affirmative and quickly turned back to where they came from and followed the Alpha, running behind him. Ghost continued to run ahead, his eyes looking to where the Vulture was flying.
Varys was already ahead, a dark shape against the starlit sky, leading the way. "This way, Your Grace," He screeched.
Ghost followed, and the scouting party ran close to him, forming an arrow shape to protect the Alpha too. They moved swiftly through the empty streets of Meereen, passing the still and silent marketplace, weaving through narrow alleys, and through the outskirts of the city. He kept his eyes forward, following Varys's lead, knowing that the vulture was guiding him towards the source of that mysterious howl.
The city soon gave way to the open sands of the desert, and Ghost picked up his pace, his muscles rippling as he raced across the open expanse. "Keep your guards up, scouts," He barked.
A series of growls of affirmation reached his ears, and he knew that they had obeyed his command. So then he didn't have to look back to ensure that they had done what they were told, he trusted his herd. And so, Ghost could double his energy to push forward.
As they approached the dunes, Ghost felt something change in the air—a sense of anticipation, a feeling that he was close. He ran up the slope of a tall dune, his paws sinking into the loose sand.
"What happened, Your Grace?" One of the Jaguar Captain asked, "Why are we here?"
"Hush, my friend," he growled, "There seems to be a creature that doesn't belong in these continents."
"Understood, Your Grace," the Jaguar Captain chuffed before turning back to his party, "keep your eyes open, scouts. But stay close."
A series of 'ayes' echoed and they all searched their ways, going their separate path but in the range where everyone could see each other.
They approached a hill, the top of the dune silhouetted against the starlit sky. Ghost slowed as he reached the base, his ears pricking up at the soft sound of wings flapping. Varys descended from above, landing gracefully beside him. His sharp eyes met Ghost's, and he nodded towards the crest of the dune.
"I've found her," Varys said, his voice low but urgent. "The direwolf is just up ahead, at the top of the hill."
Ghost's eyes narrowed as he looked in the direction Varys indicated, his heart pounding with anticipation. He nodded once to Varys, his silent way of acknowledging the information, then began his ascent. The jaguars stayed close behind, their eyes scanning the surroundings, ready for anything.
As Ghost and his small pack moved carefully up the dune, the jaguars fanned out slightly, their eyes fixed on the grey direwolf that stood ahead. The wind rustled across the sands, and as they took another step forward, they saw it.
A Grey Direwolf, just like him.
From the looks of it, he can tell that it's a she-wolf. Her fur appeared a lot smoother than his and its form more elegant than his. He has never seen a Direwolf here aside from the North.
"State your purpose here, Wolf," the Captain snarled beside him.
The grey direwolf's ears flattened, a low growl escaping her throat, her golden eyes flashing with a warning.
Ghost stopped, feeling the tension rise around them. He turned his head back to his companions, letting out a low, commanding growl. "Peace, Captain. We are not here to cause any trouble," Ghost snapped back. His eyes locked with the captain of the jaguars, giving a sharp look that made his intention unmistakable.
"Yes, Your Grace," The captain nodded, and the rest of the scouting party stayed still, their eyes now focused on what Ghost would do next.
With careful, deliberate movements, Ghost began to approach the grey direwolf. His head remained low, his posture calm and nonthreatening. He kept his red eyes locked on hers, trying to understand the strange familiarity that stirred within him—a feeling he couldn't ignore.
The grey direwolf stood her ground, still baring her teeth and ears flattened. But seeing Ghost approached slowly without any indication to attack, her lips began to droop a little, slowly perking up to see what the White Wolf wanted to do.
Ghost took another step forward, still looking at her curiously. Her fur is a lot more full than his, then this must be the wolf of the North. But who she really is? He has to trust his nose now.
Upon using his nose, he caught her scent. His eyes narrowed slightly, and then recognition struck him. It hit like a wave—a memory brought back from long ago.
He took another cautious step, his red eyes widening slightly. "Nymeria?"
The Grey Wolf paused, her golden eyes narrowing slightly as she watched him. She sniffed the air again, and then her eyes widened in surprise. She stepped closer, her head tilting as she took a better look.
Ghost stopped, his heart pounding. "Is it really you?" he spoke again, awe filling his thoughts.
Nymeria took a step closer, eyes furrowing, "Who are you?"
Instead of telling her who he is, he decided to shift. Turning back to his form, this time, his Essosi golden tunic and gambeson shine under the moonlight. His dark-raven hair blew softly from the winds of the Dune, and his boots stepped on the soft underneath the golden sand. "It's me," he softly said, "Jon Snow."
"Jon?" This time, the Grey Wolf froze. Her yellow eyes were wide in disbelief and her face didn't give any sign of attack, rather shock. And at that, she lowered her head and shifted. Now, Jon could see her….. truly see her.
Her stark grey eyes looked like she had seen many things, and she looked older. Older than when he last saw her as a little girl. Now, she's in a travelling tunic, clearly the North's, and she cut her hair short, no longer long.
"Jon!" She charged at him, and even when she was coming up to him as an older girl, she was just like the child he used to scold back in the North.
The King stepped forward, pulling the young lady into a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around him, holding on just as fiercely, the warmth of the embrace filling the long, space that had existed between them for so many years apart. Nothing has changed between them even when time does.
"I missed you," She whispered to his ear, her voice a lot older but there is still a hint of her younger self in them. Jon couldn't believe that this was the same girl who used to try to climb on his back, beg him to take her to morning patrols, or try to outrun him. This is truly his sister. Here. In Essos.
"I missed you too," Jon said, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his hands still resting on her shoulders.
Arya smiled, her eyes shining with a rare softness. "You're…you look different." She shook her head, her eyes glancing over his shoulder at the jaguars and the rest of his party. "And you've got your pack?" she said with a touch of disbelief, her eyes flicking back to his, one eyebrow raised, where the Jaguars kept to their form and watching their reunion.
Jon laughed a warm sound that made Arya smile wider. "It's… different," he admitted, glancing at the jaguars, who kept a respectful distance. "Different shifters, different kinds of pack. But still a pack."
Arya gave a nod, her gaze softening, a small, wistful smile on her lips. "I never thought I'd see you like this," she said quietly. "You truly are here."
"I can say the same thing to you," Jon smiled, his heart swelling with a mixture of pride and affection for his sister. He squeezed her shoulder gently. "We've got a lot to catch up on, Arya. Let's get out of here first," he then turned to the vulture, "Tell Dany that we're coming home with guests."
"At once, Your Grace," the Vulture bowed and he immediately took to the skies, flying ahead of them.
He then gestured towards the direction of the city, "Let us all go home," and they both began to shift again. Ghost and Nymeria, side by side, emerged once more, their forms moving in perfect sync as they began to walk back through the dunes. The pack followed closely behind them.
As they made their way out of the vast desert, Nymeria glanced over at Ghost, her golden eyes curious. "Was it your cub I saw earlier this noon here?" she asked, her voice almost teasing, a hint of a smile in her eyes.
He chuckled, his voice rumbled in his throat, "It appears that you'll have to meet a few new members of my pack."
Somewhere Outside of Essos
The endless stretch of desert seemed to go on forever, a sea of golden sand beneath the unrelenting sun.
Bran Stark found himself alone, the vast dunes rolling out endlessly in all directions, their peaks rippling under the breeze. He stood there, unsure of where he was—one moment he had been seeing through the eyes of ravens, and the next, he found himself here, surrounded by nothing but emptiness.
No…there was another vision.
Before this, he met a boy. A boy that he managed to connect with. The son of his brother! Jon has a son! He was right to send Arya and Margery there.
Now, he must find out where is this dream going. Every dream he has been getting seems to be showing him the way, little by little.
Bran turned slowly, his brow furrowed, trying to gain his bearings. The desert seems to be endless, he can't seem to find anything, let alone anything living. This can't be the North or Westeros. Westeros has no Dunes, not even the home of the Sands could have such a dry place like this.
"What were you thinking?"
A screech stopped his wandering. He turned back and gasped as a burst of fiery red flashed before him, and he staggered back slightly. A great red phoenix, its feathers shimmering with heat, appeared in the air of the dunes. Its wings spread wide, the fire in its eyes locking onto Bran.
He watched, stunned, as the phoenix descended, its form beginning to shift mid-air. The flames around it twisted, and as it touched the sand, it was no longer a bird but a figure of a woman—her robes scarlet, her eyes filled with fire.
The red priestess. Could this be the same Priestess whom Dany encountered?
She looked at Bran, her face hard, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and urgency.
"You…." Bran furrowed his brows.
"What do you think you're doing here, boy?" Kinvara's voice cut through the dry air, sharp and furious. She moved closer, her robes swaying around her like tongues of flame. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Bran blinked, confusion etched across his features. "I… I don't know. I was just… I was trying to find a way out," he said, his voice trailing off. He looked around, trying to make sense of the landscape. "Where am I? Why did that happen? And who are you?" Millions of questions run through his head.
Kinvara's eyes narrowed, her fury palpable. "You're in the Dunes of Mereen, not that you belong here," she snapped, her eyes blazing. "You've connected your consciousness to the Prince of Essos. You've touched his mind, and now, his mind is vulnerable to the Dark Winter Creatures out there. As for myself," she stepped closer, "I am Kinvara."
Bran frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The prince? I don't understand. What prince? And what Dark Creatures?"
Kinvara took a step closer, her gaze unwavering, her anger not subsiding. "The son of Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen," she hissed, her voice a mix of anger and fear. "The time of the Dragons has come again."
"So, it's true then," he murmured, looking up to the horizon, wondering if he could find his brother and sister-in-law, "They are safe."
"And an Alpha of another land," another bone-chilling voice hissed behind him.
Bran was startled and quickly sidestepped to see who suddenly appeared behind him out of the blue.
Behind him, emerging from the sands is a giant serpent. Its scales shimmering in hues of green, and red, its scales rippling like the dunes themselves. The Python reared up, its head towering above Bran, its eyes gleaming like two molten orbs. Its tongue flickered out, a sharp hiss escaping from its mouth as it observed him.
"My, another young Direwolf, wandering around in the Dessert," she hissed, her reptilian eyes looked like they could see his soul. Her piercing stare could freeze the Lions itself. "It's as if I was meant to babysit little puppies."
"Do not speak ill of the Lord's will, Melisandre," Kinvara said, "For they know to control our destiny."
"Of course, my friend," the Python hissed.
Bran took a step back, his heart pounding, but the Phython's eyes locked onto his, and he felt a strange pull, an awareness that seemed to go beyond the physical. The snake lowered its head, its massive body coiling around, almost encircling him.
Then, the Python began to coil itself into a ball as if it has caught a prey. Moments later, another Red Priestess emerged from the shed skin of the Python.
Bran's mind clicked, could this be the same Python that Dany encountered all those seasons ago?
"Bran Stark," the Red Priestess who used to be a Python hissed, her voice echoing an unsettling mix of menace and intrigue in Bran's mind. "You walk where you should not, yet you seek answers you are unprepared to understand."
Bran swallowed, his eyes still wide, his breath catching in his throat. He didn't speak, his gaze fixed on her eyes as if he was charmed to just pay attention to her. All other things seem to be unimportant.
"Jon Snow, the Black Dread, and Daenerys Targaryen, the Dragon Queen," she whispered, her voice low, each name spoken as though they carried great weight. "They are aligned to their destiny, a path that must be walked to bring Westeros back in order, and so does Essos. Or else, all will be lost. But now, their time has come."
Bran frowned slightly, confusion flickering across his features. The names—the Black Dread and, the Dragon Queen—his siblings have gained titles for themselves. They have become someone known when they parted ways.
Perhaps….they could help the North?
Kinvara then approached him, she walked as if she was flying swiftly like her Phoenix form, "The Targaryen and Stark blood have united once again. They are set on a course greater than you know," she said. "That is why Melisandre has been watching over them while they were in Essos. That was why she attacked Tywin when he kidnapped your brother and sister. Because if they are lost, the world will burn."
"But I feared that I interfered too much," Melisandre said, "Which was why I had to go."
"Perhaps so, my friend."
Bran's eyes widened. So this is the snake that saved Jon and Dany. He thought she sounded familiar.
And that's why the Lions and the Elves were so interested in Jon and Dany. Because they knew about the Stories. Or…dare he say…the Prophecy.
He finally found his voice at last, though it came out as little more than a whisper. Melisandre's soul piercing eyes truly kept him from speaking him, he had to bring out all his might to speak. "Is this destiny… something to do with the Song of Ice and Fire?"
Melisandre then gave a cold smile, even as she approaches him, her shadows looked like its slithering towards him. Her red dress flashing briefly in the moonlight like her scales just now. "Long ago, Westeros placed their hopes into the hands of two creatures. The like that which it had never seen before," she said, her voice almost melodic. "The union of Ice and Fire is in motion. And now that the Grey Wolf of the North has come to the Dragons, the clash will begin."
Bran's heart skipped a beat, his mind racing. The Grey Wolf of the North? Did she meant his sister? He did told her to go and find Jon. But he didn't know that she had gone that far, and it turns out that his brother really is in Essos.
He shook his head, "Enough riddles," he said in frustration, "I must know what's going to happen. The North needs a Stark, and now, there is none. What must I do? And why did I see Jon's child?"
"Do not meddle with Raven, young Stark," she hissed like the Python, her eyes glowing red, and her shadow began to dance in the sands, "The path ahead is not yours to walk, for you must fly."
"Wait, but what am I supposed to do?" he desperately asked, "I have no pack, no home to go to. What must I do? Should I go to Essos too like my sister?"
"No," Kinvara said, before her dress suddenly caught on fire, and soon, her entire body was engulfed in flames. Bran gasped, but the Red Priestess looked unfazed, "Your duty lies in Westeros. You will find what you seek once you find the Three-Eyed Raven."
"Wait, but I did saw him…."
"This is goodbye, Brandon Stark," the fire soon towered over all of them. Wings of fire began to spread and the Dunes began to catch on fire, and soon enough, a Phoenix emerged from the tornado of fire. The great bird screeched loudly at him as if telling him to leave.
Even Melisandre is surrounded by the flame, but as the fire flicks, it turns her into the Seer Python just like before. Her Reptilian eyes gazed at him and her tongue flickered like the fire, "The entertainment commences," she hissed menacingly before cackling as if all of this is an amusement.
Bran's eyes snapped open before he gasped sharply for air.
The cool, earthy air of the cavern filled his lungs, grounding him in reality as the remnants of the dream slowly faded from his mind.
He blinked, adjusting to the dim light that filtered through the roots of the heart tree, its ancient, twisted form surrounding them, sheltering them beyond the Wall.
The dream had felt so real—the heat of the desert, the piercing eyes of the serpent, the anger in Kinvara's voice. Also…they knew who he was! His powers are growing.
Bran lifted his head slightly, the warmth of the furs that had covered him slipping from his shoulders.
He looked around, and the familiar sight of his companions brought a sense of comfort.
Hodor lay nearby, his massive Bear frame sprawled across the ground, snoring softly, but also splayed protectively, covering them from the wide-open view.
Jojen and Meera were resting close together, Meera's spear within reach, her hand still loosely wrapped around it even in sleep. Jojen's face was calm, though even in slumber there was a tension there—like he was never fully at ease.
Bran shifted slightly, sitting up, his gaze drifting to the tree above them. Its thick, gnarled branches and roots seemed almost alive, their presence enveloping the small group with a sense of protection.
He ran a hand across the ground, feeling the cool, damp earth beneath his fingertips, trying to shake the lingering unease from his dream. This tree must be the reason why he began to see things, much to his frustration.
He closed his eyes for a moment, his thoughts drifting back to the visions—the red phoenix transforming into Kinvara, the way she had scolded him, the Melisandre's ominous words.
"The Targaryen and Stark blood have united once again."
He shivered slightly, a chill running down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold of the North. The thoughts of Jon, Daenerys, and Arya lingered in his mind, their destinies intertwined in ways that were beyond his understanding.
They must be steps closer to the Game of Thrones.
Bran let out a slow breath, trying to steady himself. He looked around at his companions again, a sense of warmth and safety returning as he watched them sleep, their presence grounding him. This was his reality now—their journey together, far beyond the Wall, seeking answers that lay in the roots of the ancient tree, in the secrets of the Three-Eyed Raven.
"Your duty lies in Westeros. You will find what you seek once you find the Three-Eyed Raven."
For now, Bran knew he had to focus. He had touched something powerful, something he couldn't fully understand. But he also knew that his path lay ahead, and he couldn't afford to get lost in visions of distant lands and destinies. He had to be here, with them, moving toward whatever future lay before them beyond the Wall.
Slowly, Bran lay back down, pulling the furs back over himself. He let his eyes close, listening to the steady breaths of his friends, and the soft rustle of the leaves above them. But his mind still wandered like a Raven…
"Get ready, Jon, Dany. It seems that Winter is truly coming," He murmured before finally sleep has claimed his mind.
Yea, I took the Lion King. I was also writing this when I heard the news of the passing of James Earl Jones :( So this was kind of a dedication to him, but I didn't want the story to stuck too close to the scene, so I changed several things.
Anyways, this is longer, as I have a lot of making up to do for the past block. I'm sorry :( I was so confused on how to continue this, but eventually, I made it!
Just to remind y'all, yes, this still follows the plot of GOT, but it's more Jonerys centric. I don't plan to rewrite stuff that already happens in the series too, so I'll leave it at that.
Hope you enjoyed it! Now I need to get back to my other fics. Stay tuned!
Claire
