The Trident 2 BC.
Torrhen Stark.
King, he was no longer and so he wore no crown upon his head as he made his way to the Heart Tree. A Stark would always sit upon the Throne of Winter though and while it would be as a Warden from now on, in truth it mattered not. Given what he'd seen on the Isle of Faces, little else but that truly mattered at all.
Brandon had not seen what he had seen. Torrhen would wager that none of the Targaryens had either. His brother's visions, for that, was what they were, had been different from his own. He thanked the Old Gods for that small mercy. For no man should ever have to watch the fall of his House and the end days of his line. As he looked ahead of him at Prince Aemon's tent, he shuddered.
"No many should ever have to live such days," he whispered softly.
By the time he reached where everyone stood waiting for the soon-to-be husband and wife, Torrhen had been joined by his brother. Brandon, he, Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya had all worn the exact same looks on their faces as they left the Isle of Faces and while their expressions had changed some, some of that look still remained. With a nod to his brother, Torrhen readied for Aemon to take his place by the heart tree and for Visenya to arrive. He soon found himself lost in thoughts and visions once more.
The girl argued with her father, refusing to accept a match with a southern lord. Her words went unheeded.
She smiled as the garland was put on her head and then later argued with the man who'd done so. Then she rode fast as men chased after her and wished to do her harm, their horsemanship no match for her own and it was only when the horse tired that she stopped.
"Lyanna." a voice rang out and the girl ran to the silver-haired man who called for her.
"You came for me," Lyanna said happily.
"Always."
The green fire covered Lyanna's father as a scab-ridden long-nailed and disheveled man cackled. Beside him, a man who could only be his son struggled to reach and sword and slowly strangled himself to death.
Another man who could only be related lost his head as he declared the truth. While another who looked similar though whose eyes were blue and his hair auburn, stood with Aemon as they readied to walk into halls that Torrhen knew full well.
"You're ready for this brother." the auburn-haired man said to Aemon.
"You're with me brother."
"Always."
Aemon cried out in agony as he held the auburn-haired man's body in his arms. His tears fell and landed on the unmoving face of his brother. There was no pyre, no time for such and so instead it was simply the ground he laid him upon and kissed his forehead softly. Then as things that had no right to move closed in, the green dragon's flames were loosed upon the body.
Winterfell fell. Its walls were no match for the army that swarmed over it. A red-headed blue-eyed girl took her own life and drove the dagger through her chest as another grey-eyed girl set the room they were both in alight before doing likewise. Both of them saying the same word as they breathed their last and it was one that Torrhen and every Stark knew well.
"Pack"
The North was devoid of life. Armies fell and men who were clearly descendants of Northern Houses that had lived for thousands of years, all proved no match for the relentless army they faced. Dragons fell, armies were beaten and through it all, Aemon bore every single loss as if he was the reason for it. None more so than that of his kin and Torrhen watched as every single death almost broke him before the last ones in the Red Keep actually did.
"Torrhen."
"Torrhen."
The voice and the shaking of him that Brandon was now engaged in were enough to take him from the visions he'd experienced once again.
"I…"
"Aye, I know, me too."
"No man should know such things," he said shaking his head.
"No man should live them, brother," Brandon said directing his attention to where Aemon stood.
He should be broken still. Given what he'd lived, he should be a shadow of the man he was. When he'd said so to him, Aemon had told him that he'd been a shadow for more years than he cared to remember. He'd told him that on his last day in the world he'd known, he'd have welcomed death when it came to him. That he did welcome his death or so he'd believed.
"I hoped to see my family once more. Yet in truth, I'd have settled for there to be no place we go to once we die. I was tired, even my bones were weary and what little resolve I had left within me had all been used up."
"You gave up?" he asked and Aemon slightly nodded.
"I wished to, but the gods had not given up on me yet."
Torrhen understood it not. He'd asked Jojen about it and been told that it was the chance to change the future that had awakened Aemon's resolve. That and the love he'd found with his, whatever it was that Visenya was to him.
"We live the life we're given, Torrhen. Until now I'd have thought it was the only one we'd know." Jojen said.
"And now?"
"At least one of us has been given another. And I believe he intends to make the most of this second chance."
Looking to where Aemon stood, Torrhen could see that much at least. In front of him, the new King of what would soon be all of Westeros, Aegon Targaryen, readied to give up one sister-wife and Torrhen understood it not. Though it was clear to him that whatever lay between Aemon and Visenya Targaryen, did not lay between Aegon and the sister-wife he was now letting go.
"Who comes before the Old Gods this night," Aegon said loudly, taking all other thoughts but the wedding to come from Torrhen's mind.
"Visenya of House Targaryen comes here to be wed. A woman trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the Old Gods. Who comes to claim her." Rhaenys Targaryen asked loudly.
"Aemon of House Targaryen. Who gives her"
"Rhaenys of House Targaryen, her sister who loves her very much."
Torrhen watched as Visenya and Rhaenys moved to where Aemon and Aegon stood. One sister-wife moved to her husband while the other moved to the man she was now to be wed to. Visenya and Aemon looked to Aegon who asked them both the question.
"Visenya do you take this man?"
"I take this man."
"Aemon do you take this woman?"
"I take this woman."
There was no hesitancy in either voice and Torrhen smiled when Aemon placed the cloak around Visenya's shoulder. Three heads were upon it in what was to be Aemon and Visenya's new sigil. A green dragon, a bronze one, and a white wolf. The latter of which would go down well with the men of the North, Torrhen expected.
Visenya turned to face Aemon and wore as true a smile upon her face as Torrhen had ever seen. One that was matched by the one Aemon wore. The kiss they shared was a true one too. Proving, as if there had been any doubt, that this was not just a match that served a political purpose.
"What the gods have joined in these sacred oaths is true and forever. Let it be known that Prince Aemon and Princess Visenya Targaryen, the Lord and Lady of Harrenhal, the Wardens of the Trident, are one, now and always." Aegon said loudly.
"Now and Always."
Torrhen cheered too and yet the naming of his kinsman and his new wife as the new rulers of the Riverlands had surprised him greatly. Aemon and Visenya were less so. Though there were other surprised faces too. Lord Tully seemed resigned almost and one of two of the Riverlords was less than pleased. Though he doubted any would raise even a word in protest, let alone their arms. Given what he'd seen Aemon face in his visions. Other than a dead man's army, any of them would be fools to do so.
Having his kinsman so close to their own borders would help keep them secure too and so he welcomed the announcement. As he did the feast that was held later and the glare that Aemon shot the fool who'd called for a bedding. Less so his bed when he lay down upon it and feared what dreams the night may bring.
The Trident 2 BC.
Visenya Targaryen.
It was very different from her first wedding. The ceremony, the feast, how she felt, and the man she was marrying, all of it was so very much more enjoyable to her. Not having to share the day with another and knowing she was the only one her new husband had eyes for helped greatly in that regard. Seeing the joy on Aemon's face as they were named man and wife had then allowed for her own joy to be shown most enthusiastically as well.
The feast was held outside and it seemed the gods themselves approved of this wedding, as the night was as mild and free from rain as she had hoped it would be. As for how Aemon behaved at said feast, well that boded well for the night to come. Her husband was polite but uninterested in speaking with anyone but her. He made her laugh as if she was a silly little girl and proved he'd a far more wicked sense of humor than he'd shown even up to then. It was not only with words or looks that Aemon showered her with either, as more than once he had kissed her or she'd found his hand reaching out to touch her in some way.
Try as she might, Visenya was too adept at politics to focus all her attention on Aemon. Though she would not lie and say it didn't send a flutter to her stomach to see that Aemon was not. So on the few occasions that she wasn't listening to him whisper in her ear or enjoying the feel of his lips on hers, Visenya took note of the mood of those who'd attended their wedding. The Riverlords in particular since she and Aemon would now rule over them as Wardens.
"I had thought House Tully?" Aemon said after Aegon and Rhaenys had gifted them their lands and title.
"We know you have your own issues with them Aemon and yet it's not only that reason why we've decided this." Rhaenys began.
"My sister and you need lands to call your own, Aemon. Were you not so determined to see House Tyrell rise then it would be the Reach we'd have sought to place you both in charge of. Damaged though it may be, Harrenhal is still most liveable and can be repaired. Where better for dragons to name their home than there?" Aegon continued.
"And naming us Wardens?" Aemon asked though she already knew the reason.
"We'll not have any above you and Visenya. It may fall to Aegon and me to sit on the throne, but we'll not have anyone look down upon you and think themselves higher."
"Dragons are not servants," Aegon added to Rhaenys' words.
Other than some disappointment from Lord Tully and soon to be some seeking of their favor no doubt from the other Riverlords, some of whom looked her way and offered her a smile or a raising of their glasses, Aegon's announcement had gone down as well as could be expected. In truth, it wasn't as if anyone could object and she doubted that Aegon and Rhaenys would have been best pleased had any dared to. Not to mention how both she and Aemon would have reacted to it.
Turning her attention to others in the room, she caught sight of her brother and sister both as lost in each other as they usually were. For once the sight of it not causing her an upset that she would have to hide and deal with alone. The Northern Lords were as happy and as boisterous as she would wish them to be. Torrhen Stark and Brandon Snow had made it clear that they welcomed her and Aemon being joined. After what they'd all seen on the Isle of Faces, Visenya felt they had made true allies with the former King in the North and his bastard brother. Thoughts of the Isle of Faces sent a shiver down her spine and she feared she was about to see those things again. The warm hand and whispered words in her ear soon sent a different much more pleasant shiver through her body.
"My wife seems distressed," Aemon whispered.
"I am…."
"Senya?" he asked worriedly and she almost laughed aloud at him shortening her name.
"I'm good, Aemon."
"Thank the Old Gods. For the thought of my husbandly duties having been failed so early would lead to my own distress." Aemon said half japing before moving in and saying the words which had made her shiver slightly "Especially since I've so many more husbandly duties to perform before the night is done."
Turning to look at him, that shiver came again. Other than upon his face, never had that expression been aimed in her direction. When she felt his hand take her own, she could barely stand, and only that he shook his head or she'd not have known it was to dance and not to bed that he was leading her. Though the feel of him when he took her in his arms and they began to move together still enflamed her passions greatly.
"How much longer must we stay?" she asked impatiently.
"My wife is eager to be abed," Aemon replied.
"Most eager."
Aemon kissed her once again, a deep and true kiss, and then offered her a most wicked smile.
"And here I thought I was the only one fighting the urge to race from here and carry my wife back to our tent before ravishing her upon our bed."
"Careful husband, lest I carry you and do the same."
"Be still my heart," Aemon said before kissing her again.
He was japing, as was she. Yet there was some truth in their words too and so after one more dance with each other and then a dance with Aegon while Aemon danced with Rhaenys, they readied to say their goodbyes. Before she knew it, they were walking quickly and covering the ground to their tent. Ghost waited outside it to act as their guard and to see they were not disturbed.
"Good boy," she said to the white wolf as she rubbed his fur, and then she felt herself being lifted in the air and both she and Aemon fell upon their bed.
*Lemon Warning*
She wanted him to tear the dress from her body and very much not to. Happy instead when he carefully removed it and more so that he kissed each part of her that he uncovered while doing so. In moments she was down to her small clothes while Aemon was still fully dressed. Laying on their bed, looking up at him, she let her eyes and her expression be the commands for him to remove his clothing and then bit her lip gently as he did so.
That he undressed slowly was in equal parts enjoyable and frustrating. When he stopped her from placing her lips on his body as he disrobed, was very much only the latter. He teased her. His shirt, his boots, then finally his britches, and these he took off so slowly that she felt morning would come before she saw what lay beneath them. When she finally did see him fully naked, Visenya felt her breathing come a little more quickly and she knew without checking that she was already wet for him. Aemon's own excited state as he looked down on her and how he'd teased her with how long it had taken him to undress, were both equally the reason for that.
"My wife likes what she sees," Aemon said huskily as his hand moved toward his hardened cock.
"Your wife wants what she sees," she replied almost breathlessly.
Aemon may have been careful to remove her dress, he was anything but with her small clothes. They were torn from her and she heard them rip and tear as he did so. It further excited her and when Aemon moved his head lower she raised her own for the kiss that never came. Not to her lips anyway. Visenya moaned loudly as she felt him take her hardening nipple into his mouth. His lips, his tongue, and even the gentle biting from his teeth soon left that nipple fully erect.
To her annoyance, it was to her lips that Aemon moved next and after kissing her and whispering just exactly what he intended to do to her, she moaned again when he turned his attention to her other nipple. This one he lavished even more attention to. His fingers were not idle when he did so and she moaned even more loudly when she felt those fingers move between her legs. How wanton she may have looked as she spread her thighs wide and opened herself to him completely, she cared not. It was a sight that only her husband would ever see after all.
"Aemon…"
He'd found her center, her core, and though his fingers hadn't pushed inside of her, they still set about their work with aplomb. Aemon moved from one nipple to the other. One moment he was biting down and pulling her nipple forward with his teeth and the next he was kissing and licking it so gently that she had to look to see if he was doing anything at all.
Between her legs, his hand had cupped her sex and still, his fingers had not pushed inside. That particular delight only came when Aemon moved up the bed so he was staring deep into her eyes.
"AEMONNN!" she cried out as she felt those fingers inside her.
They were slow when she wished them to go faster. Fast when she wished them to go slow and all the while, Aemon stared deeply down at her from above. He stopped her hands from moving to direct his own. Shook his head when she went to beg him to bring about her release or chided him for not already doing so. Then with a kiss to her lips and with three words said with such surety that they were almost enough to take her over the edge alone, Aemon made her come and come hard.
"I love you," Aemon said as his fingers moved inside of her, outside of her, and everywhere at once and Visenya lost herself to her climax.
It was to be but the first one of the night. His tongue brought about her second and third and then she felt him as he entered her for true and from that point on she lost the ability to count how many times she came. It may have been many or it could have been just one long continuous climax that he wrought out of her. All she could truly tell was that when he finally spilled his seed inside her, she and Aemon himself were both done for.
*Lemon Ends*
She lay with her head on his chest. Aemon softly stroked her silver hair and his breathing, as was her own, had now finally calmed. Sleep called for her and yet she wished for it not. Though it seemed as if her husband was to demand it of her.
"Sleep, my love." Aemon said softly "Sleep for I cannot if you won't."
"I don't wish to sleep, Aemon. I want…."
"Surely not." Aemon japed and she giggled as she turned her head so it was facing his own.
"No, not for the now."
"Thank the Old Gods, for my wife has worn me out."
"I…"
"Senya?"
"I don't wish this day to end, Aemon. It's been…..I've never known such a day as this."
"Sleep, my love." Aemon said as he kissed her lips softly "We'll make another like it tomorrow and the day after."
"And the day after?" she asked, smiling.
"All the days to come."
Visenya slept a dreamless sleep and when she woke it was to find Aemon already awake and looking down at her as he had been for some time.
"My wife."
"My husband," she said as they kissed and when she felt his cock as it brushed against her leg and it began to stiffen, Visenya began to believe that Aemon had been right in his words. Her smile appeared on her face as she imagined the many more days like the one they'd just known that were now to be theirs to live.
The Trident 2 BC.
Aegon Targaryen.
Sleep had been hard to come by. As no doubt, Visenya and Aemon had, he and Rhaenys had taken much pleasure in each other once the wedding feast was over. His love had fallen to sleep in his arms and Aegon had waited for some time for his own sleep to come. Both out of a sense of worry that Rhaenys would dream a terrible nightmare and out of a small bit of fear that he would. He thanked the gods and cursed them at the same time that only one of them was forced to relive these terrible visions on the Isle of Faces. Glad that it was him and yet angered that either of them had needed to.
The arrows flew and men fell to them. Two men fought and one lost his eye before the other one fled. That same one-eyed man then ordered and seeing that a kinsman met his end. Dragons fought dragons, both the human kind and those that flew in the sky and each was as gruesome and horrifying sight as the other.
Not even babes were safe from his family's wrath and anger at each other. Conventions, good practices, customs, all of it was abandoned as his House went to war with itself. Aegon looked on in horror as two dragons, a golden one and one he knew all too well, swooped down to attack a third, a red one that looked the color of fire itself. He watched paralyzed as the red dragon fell and the golden one and Vhagar then tore it to pieces. The body of its rider lay unrecognizable beside it as they did so.
Aegon saw brother face brother. Two dragons fly from Storm's End and one fall upon the other, turning its rider into a Kinslayer in the process. Though in truth it was the rider and not the dragon itself that slew kin. He looked on in horror as a queen met her end stoically and was torn asunder by the golden dragon from before. Then found himself standing back at the field with the archers and the man who ordered them to loose their arrows once more.
He was in a throne room as a man ordered another to be burned and it angered him that this man was his kin. Then he was in a keep with grey walls and he looked on as a red-headed woman told a young boy that she was not nor would she ever be his mother. That his mother was some whore that his father had laid with and he was simply that. A whore's son. A bastard boy.
Aegon watched as that boy grew into a man. Aemon standing before him almost as if he was just there and not laying with his sister in a tent a few feet away from his own. Then he saw happiness, joy, and the most sadness he'd ever seen a man endure as one by one those he loved were taken from Aemon. Brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, friends, allies, and finally a wife and children. Dead men marched and left naught but dead in their wake. Their blue eyes chilled Aegon to the bone each time he saw them. Though none were so chilling as the blue of the king who led them and more than once, Aegon felt them look his way.
He woke up with a start. Relieved he'd not waken Rhaenys in the process. There had been more of them this time. Or mayhap he simply remembered more of them. The fall of their House, the end of their line, and finally the end of all life. Aegon had told Rhaenys it would not come to pass. Aemon had been just as adamant as he and given all his kinsman had suffered, if he could still hold hope and still believe, then Aegon would too.
"Egg." he heard Rhaenys say and he leaned down to kiss her, bidding her to sleep a little longer and smiling when she did do.
There was much work to be done. The Reach and West were theirs and yet not fully. Aemon may have gotten House Tyrell to surrender Highgarden and named them as Wardens, but they were not the only power left there and it was time for him to deal with the other one, the Faith. He and Rhaenys would lead their army to Oldtown and would be joined on the way by Orys and his new wife. Aegon was more than keen to take the measure of Argella Durrandon for himself. He was keener to meet back up with his brother by choice though, as he needed Orys' counsel now more than ever.
As for Aemon and Visenya. The Vale would soon be brought to heel and Aegon was happy enough that it would not be done by Visenya alone. Once they'd brought the Vale to heel and those in Oldtown had knelt and accepted he and Rhaenys as their king and queen, they'd have five of the seven kingdoms under their control. Aegon was in no rush to bring the Iron Islands to its knees. The defeat of Harren and the taking of the lands they held in the Riverlands had left the Iron Born with little more than a pile of rocks. In time he and Rhaenys or Aemon and Visenya would travel there and set it to rights. They still however had a much more difficult foe to deal with before the Conquest was finally done. Dorne.
"Egg?" Rhaenys called out as she sat up, Aegon turning to see her wipe her eyes and he moved to the bed to offer her some water which she drank down quickly.
"Good morrow, my love," he said softly as he kissed her cheek.
"You've been up long?" Rhaenys asked.
"A while."
"Nightmares?"
"Some. You?" he asked hoping he was right and she'd had a peaceful night's sleep.
"No. I slept well." Rhaenys smiled.
He helped her dress and together they left their tent and moved to break their fast. Bidding those who rose when they entered the large tent to keep to their seats, they were soon eating and japing with each other. All thoughts of the Conquest and invasion of Dorne were gone from Aegon's mind for now at least. Though he knew that they would not remain that way for long.
Aemon had said he'd a plan to bring the Dornish to their knees. Aegon would be more than happy to have him take the lead in that, just as he had in other plans of theirs.
The Trident 2 BC.
Jojen Reed.
He was more able to handle the visions than either Torrhen or Brandon were. Jojen had been having them since he was but a boy, after all. Though never with the clarity or intensity of those he'd seen on the Isle of Faces. In his talks with both the newly named princes of the North, he'd found their visions differed from each other's and from his own. Each of them had been shown only what the Old Gods wished them to see and it made him ponder upon why that was.
At first, Jojen had thought that it would make more sense that they all saw the exact same things. To prove that Aemon Targaryen spoke truly, then showing them the things he said were true was the most logical and straightforward way to go. As he'd talked to Torrhen and Brandon, he'd found some of their visions overlapped with his own. All of them had seen the army of the dead, the Night King who'd led it, and the fall of man at his hands. They'd seen much of what Aemon had suffered and the losses he'd endured. Some of his life and struggles. Yet from there on it had been other things they'd seen too.
Torrhen saw the fall of the North and how House Stark seemed to lose its way. While Brandon saw how Aemon was treated as lesser by both the man he named as his father and the woman who was most certainly not his mother. There had been love there, Jojen had seen that himself. Tet that love was at times well hidden too. All three of them had seen the truth of Aemon's birth, his mother, the lie, and the revelation of that truth.
From there Jojen had seen lands far Beyond the Wall and a people that he'd have named Wildlings and Savages but a day or so earlier. Aemon named them Free Folk and after he'd seen a vision of Aemon treating with them and the accord they'd reached, Jojen had then been shown their end. It was not an end he'd wish on any man. Let alone women and children. What he'd been shown then, had seemed so incredible, so unbelievable, that he still wasn't sure it was possible. Which was why he was now on the way to speak to the three men who'd make it so or not.
"Is the prince awake?" he asked at Torrhen's tent, the guard almost glaring at him before realizing that their former king had lost the right to be named as such when he'd knelt to the Targaryens.
"Aye. He and Prince Brandon are inside."
Walking into the tent, he greeted them both and took his seat. The conversation then began on subjects other than the one he'd come to discuss. After they'd covered them and seemed almost to be running out of things to say or a reason to say them, Jojen started with what was on his mind. Almost immediately, Torrhen suggested that they send for Aemon and ask him to join them. Then once they had, all three of them sat and waited and went back to discussing less important matters.
None of them knew whether or not they'd be asked to march with the Targaryens when they left. Nor even where it was they would be marching to if they were required to do so. The Iron Islands, the Vale of Arryn, and Dorne were the only kingdoms that had not yet knelt and one of them had lost their king. Jojen doubted the other two would find themselves as the ones to deny Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen what they sought. Should they, then they'd be facing Aemon soon enough. After seeing just how capable the prince had been in the visions each of them had been shown, Jojen felt any resistance would not be one that lasted long. He was just about to say something regarding such when first Ghost and then Prince Aemon himself entered the tent.
"Aemon." Torrhen greeted his kinsman with far less formality than may have been expected. Though that it had been done this way was welcomed given the smile on Aemon's face.
"Torrhen, Brandon. Jojen." Aemon said, his own greeting just as informal.
"Forgive the interruption to your day, Aemon. I know that you'd rather be elsewhere than with us." Torrhen smirked, a jibe but a friendly one.
"Indeed. Though my wife and I shall be departing soon enough, Torrhen, and there is still much we need to discuss."
"To that end." he began and Aemon took a seat as did the white wolf before both looked his way "The Free Folk Aemon. I…in my visions, I saw much of them."
"Aye. I'd imagine you did." Aemon sighed "I had hoped to speak to you on them once things were more settled. Mayhap event to reach out to them myself before I'd have sought you to do so."
"You truly seek us to ally with Wildlings?" Brandon asked incredulously.
"With Northmen, Brandon. Men and women who follow the same gods as each of us here does. Their only difference from you or me is that they were born on one side of the Wall and us on the other."
"Wildlings still, Aemon," Torrhen said and Aemon nodded.
"Aye, and truer men and women I never knew. I had friends among them, Torrhen. Mance Rayder the King Beyond the Wall. Sigorn of the Thenn. Val the Wildling Princess as some named her and Tormund Giantsbane, a man who before he met his end was as a brother to me." Aemon said sadly, his eyes to the ground and not to them "Had I but known what was to come…had I been raised as who I was and known what it was I needed to do…."
There was silence for a moment and Jojen felt bad that they'd taken Aemon from what he'd wager was a happy morning to this.
"Alas, I lived the life I did and bear those regrets with me because of it. It's funny…" Aemon said and laughed a mirthless life "We cannot change our past and right its mistakes as we may have wished and yet now my past is my future." Aemon laughed a little more truly "What does the North need most of all, Torrhen?" Aemon asked once he was done.
"Food."
"Coin."
"Men."
It was his answer, the last of them and the one that came after both Torrhen and Brandon had answered with their own replies that Aemon nodded to.
"Aye, men. The North is larger than any of the seven kingdoms. Larger than them combined according to some. Yet it's the most sparsely populated too. And aye, I know, there is not enough food to feed those already there and Winter is Coming." Aemon said to a smirk from Jojen.
"I understand this not, how does this involve the Wildlings."
"In my time, the tale of Brandon Snow is this one. So angered was he that his brother knelt that he and some other men left the North and vowed not to return until a man of Stark Blood was its king. He refused to kneel to the dragons and soon made his way to Essos."
"Fucking Essos." Brandon spat "Of all the fool ideas I could have had, that may be the worst of them. I'd fucking burn in the sun for fuck's sake. Even here I'm fucking melting."
There were laughs from all four of them at Brandon's words. Torrhen laughed even more fully than Brandon himself.
"Mayhap so. Yet you did it anyway. While there you set up a company of sellswords. The Company of the Rose. Good men. Northern men. All of whom knelt to the true gods and thought the same as you and not a single one of you ever set foot in Westeros let alone the North again."
"I died?" Brandon asked.
"Valar Morghūlis" Aemon said confusing them before clarifying his words "All men must die. It's Valyrian and is usually followed by Valar Dohaeris, All men must serve." Aemon added.
"So I did both?" Brandon asked even more confused now.
"No, but now I'd see you did the one before the other, Brandon."
"How so?" Torrhen asked curiously.
"Go Beyond the Wall, meet with the Free Folk and make them an offer of a better life. Bring them to this side of the Wall. Settle them on good lands and together grow the North into the land it should be."
"Have you taken leave of your senses, Aemon?" Torrhen asked in disbelief.
"Many times." Aemon chuckled "But not on this. It'll take a strong man to make them follow him, Brandon. The Free Folk do not kneel and they fight you on every little thing." Aemon's fondness for the Wildlings was now clear in his voice "Yet win them to your side and you'll find them as I did. As true as those you name as kin. They don't know how to lie, Torrhen. Their word is their bond and they say what they mean and mean what they say."
"You're telling me we can trust them to live up to an agreement?"
"As you would trust your brother to live up to one." Aemon said looking at both the brothers "The pact says we'll provide help with food and supplies, does it not?"
"It does."
"This is part of that help. Bring the Free Folk to this side of the Wall and settle them on the Gift. Name them lords and ladies, vassals and good men and true and they'll see the North rises even more than it has. Men, Torrhen, men and women, the North needs them more than anything else and I give you my word of honor that you'll find none as true as those on the other side of the Wall."
It left them much to ponder on and Aemon said that in time he'd travel there himself regardless. Yet was it to come from Brandon, a son of Stark, the offer would be welcomed far more than even one from a Dragonrider. There was talk of Glass Gardens that Jojen didn't truly understand, of certain crops that would grow easily in the North and of certain animals north of the Wall that would thrive far more on the south of it. Then there was talk of Giants and not he, Brandon, or Torrhen believed it until Aemon spoke of them even more.
"Mag the Mighty and Wun Wun or Wun Weg Wun Dar Wun to give him his true name. They were but few in my time but imagine what a tribe of them could bring to the North. Imagine them thriving and their numbers growing and being able to call upon them in the years to come." Aemon said wistfully.
"You've given this some thought," Jojen said.
"As I said, I always intended to reach out to them. I'm just giving the North the first chance to do so."
"Why?" Torrhen asked.
"Because we're kin."
They spoke some more and then Aemon rose to his feet to leave. Jojen walked with him and Ghost as they left the tent and though he had a question to ask him, he waited until they were far from where they may be overheard before doing so.
"I saw a child beneath a tree, Aemon. Surrounded by other Children of the Forest. They each looked upon what seemed to be a man that I believe was somehow part of the tree."
"The Three-Eyed Raven." Aemon said shaking his head "What did this man look like, Jojen?"
"Each time he was a different man, Aemon. One with one eye, a small boy, an older man, and a younger one. The one I saw most was no older than I and he seemed to beckon me to him."
He looked to see Aemon shake his head before then nodding. As if he was having an argument with himself and it took some time to find out what the outcome of that argument was.
"The Three-Eyed Raven is an enigma to even me. Good, bad, on our side, or against us. I've thought of them as one or the other at various times. In my time, it was my kinsman. A Kinslayer who served his curse by serving the Old Gods. In another world, another time, he told me that it would have been a boy I named a brother who'd have taken his place. Yet for some reason, it was not to be."
"You believed him?" he asked curiously.
"Only a fool believes a liar, Jojen and Bloodraven was above all else a man who lied and did so often."
"You think I should not travel to meet this Three-Eyed Raven?"
"I know not. The Old Gods work to their own plans, Jojen. All we can do is follow them as best we can. I had no plans to visit the Three-Eyed Raven during this time. Mayhap I still won't. But I'll not stop you from doing so if you feel you must."
"I believe I must," he said and Aemon nodded.
"I'll draw you up a map. You'll find him many miles behind the Wall. There is a hill with the largest Weirwood in Westeros atop it. Beneath it is a cave and there he makes his home. Be wary of him, for while he may serve the Old Gods, in this they may not be the ones calling out to you."
"How so?"
"A thousand eyes and one, Jojen. That's what they said about my kinsman. How many eyes does Lord Bloodraven have, a thousand eyes and one. I believe this is truer about the Three-Eyed Raven than any and I know not just how powerful he truly is. You may think the Old Gods called for you and mayhap they did, but it could have easily been the Raven himself."
Jojen shuddered and even later that night after Aemon had handed him the map with the location pointed out on it and an easy route to get there, he wasn't sure if he should make the journey. Long after Aemon and Visenya had left for the Vale and Aegon and Rhaenys for the Reach. As he, Torrhen, and Brandon were traveling back to the North and Brandon was making his own plans to travel beyond the Wall, Jojen still hadn't yet decided if he would join him or not.
The Vale of Arryn 2 BC.
Sharra Arryn.
The Flower of the Mountain they'd named her and she was as far from a shrinking violet as any woman could be. Sharra Arryn to most was just known for her beauty. Yet her strength and determination were a thing to behold and so when news had reached her about the destruction of their fleet at Gulltown, it had fazed her not. Looking over the maps, waiting for every piece of news from the rest of Westeros that she could get her hands on, Sharra plotted and planned a way to deal with the dragons that wished to rule over one and all.
Had Aegon Targaryen not been so stubborn and not already wed to two women, then it would have all been so much easier. Her hand, her son named as his heir, and Sharra would have gladly named him her king. Dragons it seemed don't share however and so it was enemies rather than allies that House Targaryen and House Arryn had become. More so now given the actions of two of the dragons at Gulltown. As she left her army behind at the Bloody Gate, Sharra still couldn't understand just how easily they'd been defeated in that battle and what it had wrought afterward.
Gulltown no longer belonged to the Vale and though a large part of her had wished to march there and take the city back, events forced her to look elsewhere. The Sistermen had taken the defeat as a sign of weakness and had now named a Queen of their own. Though this caused a problem for her, it was a far lesser one than the biggest problem of all. Only a fool would believe that the dragons would be content with Gulltown alone and at some point in the future, their eyes would look east. Especially now that they'd taken everything to the west of the Vale.
"What do you mean Harrenhal has fallen?" she asked incredulously.
"Aegon led the army himself, Queen Regent. When Harren the Black refused to yield and name him as king, the Black Dread was unleashed upon the keep."
"The Black Dread?" she asked having not heard the name before.
"Balerion, Queen Regent. Aegon's dragon."
Sharra had felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought of a dragon being powerful enough to melt the walls of a keep as large as Harrenhal. It was not to be the last shiver she felt when it came to the thoughts of dragons and House Targaryen. Storm's End had fallen. Torrhen Stark had knelt and named the Targaryens as his king and queens. King Loren had knelt as well and so too would have King Mern, had he been alive to do so.
A field of fire some men in her army had named it and it had stolen the true fight from them. Oh, they shouted loudly and promised much but in truth, they already looked like beaten men. Only through her strength of will had they not broken ranks and scurried back to their keeps and families. Sharra's words that the Bloody Gate had never once been breached and not even dragons would be able to do so, were enough or so she hoped. Even if some in her army suggested that given that the Dragons controlled Gulltown, they'd have no need to breach the Bloody Gate in the first place.
She'd see they held. Had left good and true men in charge and only that she was needed back at the Eyrie or she'd have led them into battle herself. Still the further away from them she traveled, the more her worries grew. Each hour she spent in the saddle was one where she couldn't help herself but look backward or to the sky. Sharra worried that a rider would come to tell her that her army had lost its discipline or that a dragon would fly over her head after dealing that army a devastating blow. Thanks be to the Seven she saw neither and by the time she arrived at Stone, she'd managed to put most of her fears behind her.
"Queen Regent, we'd not expected you." Ser Donnel said as he greeted her and her escort.
"I had not thought to return so soon, Ser Donnel. Are there any messages for me within the keep?"
"No Queen Regent. I shall see to rooms and no doubt a hot bath would be most welcome."
"That it would, Ser Donnel," Sharra said as she looked to the sky once again, this time to see that night was not far off and it would be one that she'd be spending in Stone and not camped at the side of the road.
The bath reinvigorated her and washed the grime and tiredness away. Her meal that night was far better fare than she'd had since leaving the Gates of the Moon. Sharra even danced with Ser Donnel and Ser Jon when the two men gathered the courage to ask her. Both of them would tell tales of it to one and all in the future no doubt and yet she cared not. Her mood had been lightened by arriving here in good time and by the fact that nothing of note had occurred while she was away. So she felt right to enjoy herself a little.
Waking early the next morning, she broke her fast and was on her way no more than an hour later. They reached Snow at Midday and stayed only long enough to eat some luncheon before making their way to Sky. It was as they approached the last of the three Waycastles that she saw them in the sky above her. The sight of them was almost enough to force her from her horse such was her shock and worry.
These were the same two dragons that had destroyed her fleet and even more so than the so-called Black Dread, these were the two she was most fearful of. The bronze was large and fierce looking and yet it was dwarfed by the green one. From her reports, it had been that one that had truly wrought havoc upon her fleet. To see them not only in the sky above her but flying over what could only be the Eyrie herself, Sharra found herself unable to breathe.
"Ronnel," she said shakily and despite her men bidding her not to, she left Sky behind and hurriedly made her way to the Eyrie itself.
Beyond the Wall 2 BC.
The Three-Eyed Raven.
He'd split his time between searching out the future and seeing what had changed with it and seeking out those who had somehow managed to come back from that future. How it had been done he knew not, other than it had been the gods who'd facilitated it. Why it had been done, well that was something he needed to know and so he'd looked and in time he'd found it.
The Song had been sung too late. The Singer was unprepared and the world had fallen because of it. It was not meant to be that way and so he'd looked to see why it had been so. Time passed as he searched for the reason why things had ended as they had and he feared he'd never find it. Until eventually he did. He looked on as the tower loomed largely and watched as seven faced off against three with only two of the ten walking away from the fight.
"NO"
"NO"
"THIS IS NOT THE WAY!"
His angered words rang out and were answered by calmer yet not less angered ones.
"And yet this is what occurred."
He could understand it not. The gods were all-powerful and yet they'd not been able to change this. It made no sense to him, not given the stakes they were all dealing with. The singer needed the three men by his side. One to Guide, One to Teach, and One to Protect. Without the White Bull, he'd never have learned what it was to be a king and would never have met up with the Griffin. As for the Black Bat, none would teach him better than him how to deal with all that life threw at you. While the Sword of the Morning would keep him safe and allow him to finally drive his sword deep within the icy cold heart of the Great Other.
Walking past their fallen bodies, he wondered why they'd not changed this. Why not send him back here? Since here was where it had all gone wrong, Why send him so far back in time?
There were no answers given to him to these questions, or at least at first. So after pulling more on the thread of time and seeing where one path led and where another could have, he'd then sought ought the singer of the song once more. The Lightbringer's mind was closed to him as were those who traveled with him. Nothing he could do would let him see inside their minds and so he'd once again been forced to look on from afar. Through birds, horses, and smaller animals, he'd looked and seen and what he'd seen was a wondrous sight to behold.
A conquest had been changed. A new path was forged and even he was unaware of where that path would take them. Though as he looked past it all and to where that path led, he began to see why the gods had done what they'd done and why it was now and not then that the singer had been sent to.
Calling out to them, asking them for answers. He worried that the voices would remain silent or that he'd not walk the path they wished him to. For it was not only the singer whose path had been changed. It took far more time than he wished until they showed him his own path and the things they demanded from him and even longer until they showed him those who'd help him walk that path. Though it took little time at all for him to reach out to the first of them.
"North, North is where you'll find me, Lord of the Crannog. North is where you must travel and there is much work that needs to be done."
All he could do now was wait. Wait and Watch. Though soon both his waiting and watching would be done and the Three-Eyed Raven would no longer be a bystander in the wars to come.
The Eyrie 2 BC.
Aemon Targaryen.
If he was being honest with himself, he'd not give much thought to what came next. Aemon knew he wished to marry Visenya and that she had brought him a sense of happiness that he'd thought was lost to him. Yet he'd not truly considered what being wed would mean. So he was lucky that those around him had, his wife especially. It had been Visenya who'd made the request of Aegon and pointed out the advantages of them being named as Wardens of the Trident. As well as the disadvantages were they not to be, Aemon thought and chuckled to himself.
What that truly meant for the future, Aemon knew not. He had however suggested and Visenya agreed that they would name House Tully as their seconds and place them above all others except for themselves. Whether this was enough to ensure that his brothers and sisters were born and that the match between House Stark and House Tully still took place, Aemon could only hope. In time, he would mayhap have to actually almost force it to be one that occurred regardless. Though how he was to do that was, for now, a mystery to him. Besides he had other things that required his concentration and were much more pressing.
Aemon had racked his mind and tried to remember the tales of the Conquest. Some came to him easily. Harrenhal, the Field of Fire, the Last Storm, and the failed conquest of Dorne were easy for him to recollect. Others not so much. So just as it had been with the initial battles, he was once again lost as Rhaegal and Vhagar flew to the Vale. Only the words of his wife that she had a plan and that she then bid him to trust her had stopped him from coming up with his own plan to bring the Vale to heel. It was not something that he believed would take too long nor require more than one single battle. Yet, as they passed over the Bloody Gate and saw the army beneath them, not one flame was loosed from either the green or bronze dragons.
"Adere Rhaīgal, sōvegon naejot zirȳ. (Quick Rhaegal, fly to them). Aemon called out as Vhagar increased her speed.
Other than after the Battle of Gulltown, Aemon had never set foot in the Vale of Arryn. In his time, it had taken the death of Lysa Arryn to bring the Knights of the Vale to his side and even then, they'd not come wholeheartedly. Their own feelings regarding his grandfather, their pride, and the poisoned words spoken by the Mockingbird in their ears were all equally to blame for that. In the end, they'd fought as truly as any. Though against the dead and not against those who stood in the way f his crowning for true.
Royce, Waynwood, Redfort, Melcolm, and Corbray, were all reluctant allies at best. House Grafton had knelt and named him king the moment he'd sent the raven. As it was now it had been then, Gulltown belonged to the dragons long before the Vale did. As they flew over the first of the three Waycastles, Aemon wondered if those Houses and the lords and ladies that ran them were much different from those he'd known or in truth, did people change so little from those who came before them?
He was still contemplating this thought when he saw Vhagar fly low and he realized that he was no longer flying over a Waycastle and the keep beneath him was the Eyrie itself. Calling out to Visenya to tell her not to do what it seemed she was about to do, Aemon saw his wife shake her head, and then before he knew it Vhagar had landed in the Eyrie's courtyard.
"Urnēptre zirȳ! Urnēptre zirȳ skoros iksis naejot massigon lo pōnta ōdrikagon zirȳla!" (Show them! Show them what happens if they harm her!)
Rhaegal's roar was louder than ever. It echoed across the mountains and once he was finished, the flames came next. They were aimed at no one, directed against enemies that may not yet exist, and they did very little to help Aemon with the worries he was feeling for Visenya's safety. His wife had climbed down off Vhagar's back and the bronze dragon had let out her own loud roar. The display from Rhaegal emphasized the point that both dragons would burn this keep to the ground should one hair on Visenya's head be harmed.
The wait felt eternal and four sets of eyes remained focussed on the door that Visenya had entered the keep through. His own, both the dragons and Ghost all watched and waited and Aemon wagered they all breathed in relief when Visenya emerged unharmed. When he saw who was with her and what she then did, Aemon laughed as loudly and as truly as he had in an age. Even more so when Vhagar took to the sky carrying both her rider and their passenger.
For the next hour or more, the two dragons flew around the Eyrie, over the mountains, and down to the Waycastles below. Had it not been for Ghost alerting him, then who knows just how long the flight would have gone on. When Vhagar landed and allowed Visenya and Ronnel Arryn to climb down off her back, Aemon bid Rhaegal to do likewise. Soon he and Ghost joined his wife and the soon-to-be former King of the Mountain and the Vale as they strolled through the keep. The young man seemed just as fascinated by Ghost as he had no doubt been by his ride upon a dragon's back.
"This was your plan?" Aemon whispered to his wife as they walked.
"No, just part of it. The next part is to come," she replied, a smirk on her face that showed how proud she was of herself and that proved she was actually showing off to him was the only other answer he was given for now.
Entering the High Hall, Aemon was surprised to be greeted by a man bearing bread and salt. A look at his wife showed that this was part of her plan and so he accepted Guest Right when it was offered. Looking around the High Hall and taking note of the guards that were present and how they all looked warily at both him and Ghost, Aemon was soon chuckling as Visenya and Ronnel moved to the two Weirwood thrones. Though there were two, it was only the one that Visenya sat in. The larger one was one that Aemon would name as the king's and he shook his head when Ronnel took his seat not on the other, but on Visenya's lap.
It took less than an hour for Ronnel's mother to arrive. Aemon recognized Sharra Arryn from the portrait she'd sent Aegon. It was not to him or Ghost that the Queen Regent looked, which was a rare enough occurrence for him both in this life and in the one he'd known before. Instead, it was on her young son who was laughing at something Visenya said, and Visenya herself that Sharra's attention was focussed on.
"Your son just asked if he could fly on the dragon once more, Queen Regent. It seems he most enjoyed the flight we've just taken." Visenya's voice was full of mirth and for some reason Aemon found himself leaning against one of the stone pillars that filled the High Hall. He was more than eager to watch and amuse himself with his wife taking a crown from a king without spilling one drop of blood.
For the next hour, a battle of wills took place and it was one that Sharra Arryn had lost even before it started. The memory had returned to him as his wife made it clear to the Queen Regent that not even high in the mountains was she or her family safe from them or their dragons. That should they wish it, they could with a single word to Vhagar or Rhaegal, see the Eyrie in flames just as easily as Aegon had done with Harrenhal. There was no path to victory for House Arryn and only one path that didn't lead to the end of the Arryn line forever. Kneel or Die, Visenya said. Though she did so in better words than that and with far more charm than Aemon would ever have been able to call upon.
"I could have you taken hostage. What is to stop me from doing so? How effective would your own or any of the dragons be then?" Sharra said angrily.
"Be thankful that my husband and I have accepted guest right, Queen Regent. For had we not then I'd most enjoy seeing your men try to take my husband and his wolf in a fight." Visenya replied challengingly.
Sharra turned and only then did she truly pay any attention to him and Ghost. How he stood, and the casual way he leaned against the pillar were both enough to show her that he feared not her guards. Even was that not so, Ghost rising to his feet and the hunching of his shoulders was enough to make men come close to wetting themselves. There would be no fight in the men that Sharra had to call upon. No breaking of Guest Right and so defeated but not broken, Sharra asked for and was told Visenya's terms.
"Warden of the East?" Sharra asked.
"Other than our own House, you, House Stark, House Lannister, and House Tyrell are the only ones named as such. You retain your rule over the Vale, Lady Sharra." Visenya said, no longer acknowledging the woman's standing as her son's Queen Regent.
"But answer to House Targaryen."
"As does the rest of Westeros, my lady," he added, his first words in the entire exchange and the look his wife gave him showed she welcomed them.
With that and then a promise to put the Sistermen and their new queen in their place, it was done. The Vale was theirs and would come when called. For now, Sharra would keep her army at the Bloody Gate in case they were to be called upon. Though both he and Visenya doubted they would be. It would be ships and dragons that brought Dorne to its knees. Not the Knights of the Vale or a full army's march.
Precise, targeted, and devastating. That was what he would bring to Dorne should they refuse the final offer he'd make them. His words had brought the North. Visenya's the Vale and the dragons had won the rest of Westeros. It would take will and will alone to break the Dornish and as he and Visenya left the Eyrie behind and readied to fly and join Aegon and Rhaenys once more, his will was as strong as it had ever been.
"Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. We'll see about that," he said as Rhaegal and Vhagar trilled beneath Aemon and his wife.
A/N: Thanks to all those who pointed out my mistake with Meraxes and Vhagar, it's fixed now.
A/N: Thanks to all who've read and reviewed. Up Next: Oldtown plays host to the Dragon and a Lord and a High Septon push too hard for what they want. Aegon is reunited with his brother by choice and meets Orys' new wife while Visenya and Aemon stop off at Harrenhal and then at the Aegonfort before meeting up with their kin in Oldtown. A visit to the Citadel and the Starry Sept shows the beginnings of Aemon's plans to deal with the Maesters and the Faith before all eyes look to Dorne and an invasion is planned.
For those following my other fics, Live as a Wolf is up next.
Eagle: it may be hard to change Tywin from this point in time, though it may be easier to change House Lannister as a whole, we'll see.
Tsroughs: Each fic, has the same complaint, even a number of chapters in and you either don't comprehend or deliberately ignore the premise to make the same points over and over. So here's an idea, if my fics all have the same issues, stop reading them, see simple. But if you wish to continue to do so, at least try and understand the premise. Jon is OOC, well duh, any change to his canon nature makes him OOC, it's why we have fics, and don't you know, just read the canon. Jon here was a king, was married, and had children, he won one war and led his army to defeat in the most important war of all, of course, he's changed by what he went through, of course, he's OOC, anyone would be. As for him acting one way with the Targs and the other with the Starks, again, understand the premise and it may make sense, or ignore it as you constantly do and continue to spout the same complaint. Jon has decided that the best way to ensure things don't come to pass is to raise House Targaryen as high as possible, to do that he has to be more Targ than Stark, it's simple really. Of course, he defers to Aegon, he's not there to be king and any damn Targaryen should defer to you know the one who started it all. And of course, he doesn't defer to the Starks, again, understand the premise and once you do, then it wouldn't make sense for him to defer to them.
Jon is being arrogant because he needs to be. He needs to force others to accept that this is the way things are, be that in words, deeds, or through force of will. So again, if you don't like it or how I write, there is a big sign in the corner marked exit, put one foot in front of the other and walk towards it, and whoosh, it's a miracle, you don't have to read it anymore. I've said it before in my responses to you, but at this point, you're just trolling and so this is the last time I'll be answering anything you have to say.
Guest: As you command.
Celexys: So glad you liked the Isle of Faces, I've shown the last of what I'll be showing there in this chapter but it adds a little more to Jon's life I think.
Dunk: So glad you felt that way, here I think I've added enough to show that they were different and all somewhat tailored to each of them. In regards to making sure that this is known, it's something that Jon himself will struggle with. It's like changing things and worrying how the change will ripple out, some of it as you say is going to fade away and not take hold and yes a lot will be Jon trying to fix things because of it. In terms of stories, there will be the Dance, Blackfyre, Robert's, and WOTFK as timelines. For the Dance which will be up next, I won't spoil too much other than to say Jon won't be taking the role of Hardin Strong and will be arriving nearer to Viserys' death than anything.
Hyokage: Thanks so much. We'll see a little of that next chapter with Aemon going to the Citadel, even though he's trying to concentrate on bringing the Conquest to an end, he's also making moves to change the future in terms of all aspects, militarily, economically, etc, so we will see a lot of that to come.
Sozin's flame: really glad to hear that.
Vwchick: Thanks for saying so. It's my writing process, I tend to just put it all down and write constantly even when I've got writer's block for one story, and so far I've not run out of ideas, touch wood lol.
Aegor: Very well predicted my friend, it was always my intent to give them a Kingdom of their own.
KingMern: I can't spoil if it'll take place other than Aemon will arrive during the timeline. What I can say is that when he does make the jump, it'll clear up how the jumps work and explain a lot.
Brisha: Perdón por la demora, seré más rápido la próxima vez.
Yohn Royce: So glad you liked the Isle of Faces. Dorne was right, an invader is an invader, and killing one is how you deal with them. Yet since Aemon's task is to change things, he will be as ruthless as he feels is needed.
Luceryrios: I think it's funny because they deleted the Gendry scene because they realized that it was dumb and yet they left in the Arya/Sansa thing because they did not, so they both show some realization and yet very much none at the same time. Arya's whole final arc is some of the most nonsensical stuff ever. She wants to be Arya Stark and go home, then she wants to do her list, then she wants to go home, then she wants to do her list, then she decides not to do her list, and then wants to see what's West of Westeros. Like in eight seasons it would be hard to get a character to contradict themselves that much, they did it in less than two. I think the simple truth with them was that every time they changed something, they pretty much were guaranteed to make it worse. For me literally, the only things they changed from the books that worked better was Davos/Tormund being closer to Jon.
Creativo: No necesariamente. Puede que a Jon no le guste Cat, pero también le preocupa lo que les pasaría a sus hermanos y hermanas si ella no existiera
Vias: I won't say how he's going to jump to the next timeline, be it dying or something else, but from here he'll be going to the timeline of the Dance of Dragons, as to what things will be like when he gets there, we'll see.
Princess of greenwood: So glad you liked it.
Keybladel: Thanks so much, hope this will make up for there not being more to read.
Naida G: Al menos mensualmente, con : suerte con más frecuencia, pero al menos mensualmente.
Shieltor: Questions I'd so love to answer, but can't because they spoiled too much. All I'll say is that Aemon will jump to the timeline of the Dance in the next book and all will be made clear.
Biohazard: So glad you liked it.
Dominka: At least every month there will be a new chapter, but hopefully even more quickly.
King Loren: Very much not.
Irish Hermit: It very much will yes. It's also why this will be the only other full-on love relationship that he has. Jon believes he's to end his days in this timeline, he's no idea that he's going to be sent to others and so falling for Visenya is sort of, in his own mind at least, allowed. He thinks he's going to have the life with her that he was denied with Margaery and so he's more willing to open his heart. When he jumps forward, when it becomes clear to him that he's a traveler through time and not being sent back to die in one, he'll never allow himself to feel that way about anyone again. So any relationship he may have will be more shallow.
The two constants are Ghost/Rhaegal, they keep him grounded.