Family Reunion

Hello Drinor Here, If you like to become a patron and get access to these chapters earlier, head on over to Patreon and search 'Drinor.'

https://www.Patreon.com/Drinor

The Following 16 Chapters are available for Patrons.

Chapter 55 (The Dragonbinder Horn), Chapter 56 (Family Bonding), Chapter 57 (A Bond Between Siblings), Chapter 58 (Father and Son), Chapter 59 (A Targaryen Love), Chapter 60 (The Quiet Wolf), Chapter 61 (Mother and Son), Chapter 62 (A Night of Passion), Chapter 63 (Silverwing and Morning), Chapter 64 (The Jousting), Chapter 65 (A Dragon of House Targaryen), Chapter 66 (A Threat or Salvation), Chapter 67 (Cannibal, The Wild Dragon), Chapter 68 (Daenerys, The Dragon Princess), Chapter 69 (A Golden Flower), and Chapter 70 (Tears of Direwolves) are already available for Patrons.

Hardest Chapter I have written so Far, I Hope you enjoy it.

"Everyone I've met was all the same. Drinking, Women, Worshiping God, even family, The King, dreams, children, power... Everyone had to be drunk on something to keep pushing on. Everyone was a slave to something. " - Kenny Ackerman

Ned Stark

Just watching his son and nephew fight filled him with excitement. It reminded him of a time long ago. He had seen his brother fight in the Tourney so many years ago that it now felt like a lifetime ago.

The way Robb moved, the way he gripped his sword, and the way he smiled when he was fighting, reminded Ned of Brandon, without fear and headstrong marching into battle.

Ned had heard and seen himself that his son had been dancing with someone else during the Feast. Ned didn't know who the girl had been, but Maege informed him the girl was quite beautiful and young. Maege didn't have a name, but it wasn't needed; whoever the girl was, Ned knew his son wouldn't do something that would ruin his reputation with the Lords of The North, it is one thing before they're betrothed, but Robb was a betrothed man.

Thankfully, Cat had suggested yesterday to have Robb accompany Lady Manderly in the gardens of Harrenhal. It wasn't as beautiful as Winterfell, but it would be a good place for Robb to spend time with his future Lady Wife, away from everyone else.

Ned smiled brightly during the whole Melee, Rickon on his lap. His son looked more alive today, Ned didn't know what had scared him, but today he seemed his usual self; Ned heard Arya and Bran bickering with each other, Bran telling Arya that Ser Barristan would be the Winner of the Melee.

Ned chuckled once he heard Arya. "Are you stupid? Ser Barristan can't hold a candle against Jon. You see, he will defeat Everyone." His little wild wolf had boasted loudly for everyone to hear.

Bran had always been a fan of Ser Barristan; he loved the stories of how the man had slain the last male Blackfyre, becoming one of the most known Knights in History.

Sansa had been mostly silent during the whole Melee, but Ned hadn't failed to notice the blush on her cheeks, her eyes flickering to look at someone in the audience. Ned couldn't tell who she was looking at. But the way her face went red whenever she looked in one direction, Ned hoped Cat could talk with Sansa after this event, but Ned trusted his daughter. She wouldn't lay with anyone. She was still young for such thoughts.

His thoughts were interrupted when Robb's sword fell from his grip, The Kingslayer's sword aimed at his face, and Ned's heart skipped a beat for a moment, but when Lord Lannister moved his sword away, Ned released a sigh of relief.

Despite losing, Ned still felt proud for his son. He had shown The North that he was good with a Sword; being able to fight someone like The Kingslayer one-on-one for five minutes wasn't something anyone could scoff at.

"Robb is an excellent Swordsman, my Lord!" Lord Manderly exclaimed with his loud voice. Ned agreed with the man; Lady Wynafryd was sitting beside her father, looking at Robb's fleeing form, before standing up and leaving, probably to congratulate Robb for being a brave and strong man.

Ned smiled at the gesture. The girl clearly cared for Robb, the Lord of Winterfell knew she would be an excellent future Lady of House Stark, giving Robb many beautiful children, strong boys, and beautiful girls.

"Father, do you think Jon can win the Melee?" Arya asked eagerly. Even before the event started, she always said that either Jon or Robb would win the Melee, mostly Jon. But now that Robb had lost, she was praying that Jon would win the Melee.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Catelyn's sour face, she looked as if she had just swallowed a lemon whole red face, and the way her lower lip moved, Ned could tell she wanted to say something unkind.

"Maybe Arya, but your brother has shown his worth already, he defeated the Mountain, and even if he loses, he will lose against the Best Knights of the Realm," Ned said with a warm smile towards his daughter, who seemed not to like the thought of Jon losing.

Ned had to admit that when Jon had fought the Mountain, he had felt the same way he had felt a day before The Battle of the Trident. Seeing that filthy knight die had brought him great relief.

Ned watched as Jon won against a filthy Frey. Ned didn't know which one he was, but he was convinced that neither did Lord Frey himself. When Ser Jaime Lannister and Ser Arthur Dayne started fighting, the entire focus was on them, many expecting that to be the best fight they would ever see for years to come. When Arthur had started using Dawn, Ned knew Ser Jaime had already lost.

Ser Arthur with Dawn was like a Beast in human form, Ned had tried to forget it, but he still remembered that fight. Arthur had slain Robert without getting hit once.

So when Jon was his next opponent, Ned heard Arya shouting Jon's name over and over, and the entire Northern Audience was shouting and encouraging Jon to win. Small Jon and Big Jon were perhaps the loudest in the Audience, their voices booming in the audience like horns of War.

Ned watched with bated breath as they fought, their swords clashing. At any moment, Ned expected something to go wrong, clash after clash. Ned soon saw that Jon was slowly losing the fight, and when he sheathed his Valyrian Stark Sword, Ned expected him to forfeit. It was a smart move, and there was no shame in surrendering, but the excitement of the Arena exploded when Jon unsheathed Dark Sister, Arya, was perhaps the loudest of them all. For a moment, Ned feared she would jump into the arena just to get a better look.

The Dragon wings and the red beautiful ruby were quite clear, everyone knew which Sword he was using, and it didn't take long for many lords to shout the name 'Dark Sister,' soon joined by Arya, who just couldn't wait to use the Sword, something Ned would forbid her from doing, the sword was sharp enough to accidentally cut her fingers off.

The atmosphere around the Audience during the Kingslayer's fight against Ser Arthur was nothing like it was now. It felt as if the number of people had suddenly tripled. Everyone was at the edge of their seats, watching Dark Sister for the first time in their lives; Ned's eyes went to the Royal Family. Not surprised to see them looking at the fight with the same intensity as the rest, Ned could tell that the King's brother was angry for some reason.

When Jon was almost cornered, Ned thought for a moment that would be the end of the fight. He had been paying attention so much at the fight that he didn't notice Lady Wynafryd return with red eyes.

When Jon threw himself at Ser Arthur, Ned was expecting Arthur to punch Jon in the face at any moment, he had the opportunity to do so many times, but he never did.

And when Ser Arthur surrendered, Ned blinked in confusion before joining everyone, celebrating The North's Win. Even if they didn't win any other activity, winning the Melee was More than Enough; perhaps The South would stop seeing them as savage, but Ned knew that was just wishful thinking.

Val was the first, and Arya was the second to leave the place in a hurry, wanting to find Jon and congratulate him for winning the Melee. The rest of House Stark, including several lords, soon followed Arya and Val.

It didn't take long to find Jon's tent; Ned's heart skipped a bit to see Arya hugging Jon as if life depended on it, but he noticed the towel he was holding against the side of his head; Maester Luwin was in the tent too, washing another towel, and looking at the injury.

Ned remembered that Ser Arthur had struck Jon's head with the pommel of his sword when the latter had rushed him with his shield.

"Congratulations, Jon Snow. You have earned a good Ale for this." Great Jon said with a burst of laughter the moment he walked inside. Jon laughed along, same for Small Jon.

"Keep the ale. I still need to win The Jousting." Jon said humorously, earning a burst of laughter from Great Jon and it seemed the giant man wanted to perhaps slap his shoulder like he did many times before, but the Look Maester Luwin gave him stopped him dead on track.

"Congratulations, Jon. I see why Lady Arya said you were the best of us." Dacey congratulated him with a light blush on her cheeks.

"How is he, Maester Luwin?" Ned asked the important question, but the old maester didn't answer right away; instead, he removed the towel that had dried blood on it. Everyone looked at the nasty wound, the blood had dried, but everyone knew Jon was in pain.

"Jon Snow needs to rest, don't do anything that might open the cut. I will give you milk of the poppy for the pain." Maester Luwin said strictly before applying wine to the wound, causing Jon to wince slightly in the process.

"Keep the towel around your head like this for one hour. I will return and change it again. Don't try to do anything that might reopen the wound." Maester Luwin warned, using bandages to keep the towel around the side of his head.

Ned had a chance to look at the wound and had to admit that it was a nasty cut just above his left ear. The blood looked black. Ned thanked the old gods that Dawn's pommel didn't have a pointy end like some swords had.

Jon nodded, wincing slightly, his right arm around Val. Soon Maester Luwin left the tent, leaving them alone with Jon.

"Jon, might I know where you found Dark Sister?" Lady Maege asked, intrigued. Everyone's attention turned to the sword lying on the table, sheathed and beautiful.

"Jon, can I please look it up close?" Arya begged, looking at Jon with puppy eyes, but it seemed to not work on Jon this time, who chuckled.

Messing the top of her hair, much to Arya's annoyance, who moved his hand away, "Perhaps later, little sister." He said, making Arya pout.

Jon's attention turned to Maege, who was looking at him intently.

"When I was at the Wall. Maester Aemon Targaryen in the Night's Watch gave it to me." Jon answered, wincing a bit. Just moving his head made it hurt. It felt like the wound was pulsating as if a second heart was there.

"Why would he give it to you?" GreatJon asked right away, walking up to the table where Dark Sister was lying. He was amazed by the beauty of it. He had seen 'Ice' the Valyrian Steel Sword of House Stark but had to admit that Dark Sister almost put it to shame.

Ned had a few ideas on why Maester Luwin would give it to Jon specifically. "...I don't know. He only said that I had the heart of a Warrior." Jon answered with a little shrug. Acting as if it was no big deal to him.

"What will you do with it?" Lady Dacey asked, her eyes looking at Jon's wounded head. She was sure that Jon would keep the sword. While it was true that the sword originally belonged to House Targaryen, they had lost it many decades ago; Jon had the right to keep it and give it to his children in the future.

"Tonight during the Feast. I will give it back to the Royal Family." Jon said without missing a beat. Ned could see the disapproving looks from Great Jon and Dacey.

"Why, to earn a favor?" GreatJon asked, his voice growling a bit, making it clear he didn't like what Jon wanted to do with such a Legendary Sword. Ned wanted to say that by the end of this Tourney, House Targaryen would own both Dark Sister and Wolf's Blood.

"The Reason is mine, my Lord, and is not for earning any favors. The Sword isn't mine, as simple as that." Jon said sternly, giving both Dacey and Great Jon a look. The two reluctantly accepted his decision. There was nothing they could do.

"Will you enter the Jousting, Jon?" Sansa suddenly asked, looking at him with a soft smile. Jon turned to look at her, not missing the look Lady Fish was giving him, but to him, she might as well have been an ugly decoration in the tent.

"Yes, Sansa. I promised the King I would win both The Melee and The Jousting." Jon answered with a blank tone.

"I will be rooting for you, Jon," Sansa said, smiling, looking slightly downwards; Ned wondered why Sansa was suddenly rooting for Jon. Since the day Kessa had almost attacked Sansa, she never once spoke of Jon in a good way. Ned figured his daughter wanted better terms with Jon now that he was famous. The best Swordsman in the Realm was Quite a Title.

For a moment, Jon didn't know what to say before he smiled. "Thank you, Sansa." The smile didn't reach his eyes.

Soon, Ned and the others walked away; Arya wanted to stay with Jon and Val, probably to admire Dark Sister, but Cat calling her made Arya pout loudly before following them behind.

Walking through the Halls of Harrenhal, Ned heard only one thing. All the servants and soldiers were discussing only one thing. They tried to keep it quiet when he passed by, but Ned knew all of them were talking about Jon Snow and Dark Sister.

Some were whispering amongst each other how Jon got his hands on Dark Sister, Ned knew many perhaps thought Jon had stolen it, but the Sword was lost. It was said that Brynden Rivers had taken The Sword when he went to The Wall.

Ned didn't know the whole truth. His mind went to Cat; since Jon won the Tourney, his wife had been in a horrible mood. Ned was counting the minutes until she exploded and started talking about the usual Jon stealing Winterfell.

As he passed through the long corridor to reach his bedchamber, a turn to his left near him would lead him to Robb's bedchamber. He was half convinced to take that route instead and talk with Robb about tomorrow's activities just as he was about to turn left when he almost crashed with someone—only years of training and fighting prepared him to stop in time.

"I'm really sorry, my lord." The girl apologized, sounding like Ashara, and Ned almost said 'Ash' but stopped before embarrassing himself.

Ned stepped back to give her some space, the girl was embarrassed, but when he took a good look at her, his throat went dry, a lump forming on his throat. It felt like he was suddenly back in time, the first time his eyes had seen her face, violet eyes, beautiful and pure face.

"Ash-" Ned stopped himself from saying her name, the logical part of him reminding him that it couldn't be Ashara. If she were, she wouldn't be this young, looking at her face again. She seemed to be around Jon and Robb's age.

When his grey eyes looked up at her eyes, violet eyes looked back at him; Ned inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm himself. His heart was almost bursting from his chest.

"My lord. Are you alright?" The girl asked, concerned, noticing the lord's face going a little pale. Her voice made him escape his stupor. Taking another step back, he cleared his throat before talking.

"My lady. I'm sorry." "Don't worry, my lord. I should have seen where I was going." She said with a tiny blush on her cheeks, as if she suddenly remembered something pleasant.

Only then Ned remembered that the girl was coming from the corridor that led to Robb's Bedchamber.

"Your name?"

"Alyanna Dayne. My lord." The girl said with a soft-melodic voice.

Ned felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. She had the same name Ashara had chosen if it were a girl. Ned had chosen Jon if it were a boy because of his Fostering Father.

It could be just a coincidence, Ned thought, remembering that Ashara had told him their daughter had been stillborn. But looking at Alyanna again, she looked just like Ash, minus the dark hair like a crow. Stark Hair, Ned thought.

Ashara would never keep this from me. She wouldn't have lied to me that our daughter was dead, Ned thought, repeating the same over and over in his head, trying to convince himself that his mind was simply playing tricks with him.

Ned noticed the lady was looking at him strangely, and Ned realized he had been staring at her for a long time. "You just remind me of someone. Have a good day, my lady." Ned said apologetically. The lady smiled before walking away.

Once she was out of earshot, only then Ned was reminded that she was coming from Robb's chamber, and he didn't get to ask why she came from his chambers.

Rhaegar Targaryen

Jon Snow

Dark Sister

Jon Snow is the new best Swordsman in the Realm

Everyone was talking about the same thing. Every servant, soldier, and Kingsguards were talking about The Melee.

The other Kingsguards were teasing Arthur endlessly about his loss, asking him how it felt to lose for once in his life. Arthur would only say that the kid was a talented one and he could become the greatest Knight known in Westeros. While Rhaegar enjoyed talking about the Melee, he hadn't felt that excited since the days when a younger Ser Barristan would fight with Arthur; those were the days when Barristan was still the better fighter.

Now, He was in his chambers with Aegon, his mother, Viserys and Elia.

Apparently, Viserys wanted to talk about the biggest reason why everyone couldn't stop talking about Jon Snow.

"That Sword belongs to us, brother. You should command the Bastard-" "Enough, Viserys, that sword hadn't been in possession of our House for almost a century now. Jon found the sword, and it belongs to him." His mother interrupted with a rather harsh tone, something that took Rhaegar by surprise. His mother would never speak to them like that unless they really did something unforgivable.

While Rhaegar tended to agree with his mother in almost everything, he knew his little brother was making a good point.

"Mother, we are the Royal Family. We are House Targaryen, and we don't own any Valyrian Swords. Dark Sister is our Sword from our Homeland, Valyria. It belongs to us." Viserys countered her argument, not wanting to back down on what he thought was right, not on this one.

Rhaegar usually would be impressed, but from the way their mother was looking at Viserys, he almost feared that she would slap him, so he decided to step in before she could.

"Mother, enough; Viserys has a point, Dark Sister belonged to us and is a symbol of Strength, but I'm not going to command anyone to give it to me. Tomorrow I will offer Jon Snow an offer to join the Kingsguard, or I will reward him somehow." Rhaegar said with a tone that he clearly wanted this conversation to end.

His brother looked rather displeased, and his mother reluctantly agreed before she stood up, clearing her throat loud enough for everyone to hear. "After the Feast. I want all of you to come to my chambers. Everyone." His mother spoke. Gone was the motherly tone. Now she was talking with a more serious tone.

Now Rhaegar was confused. "Why?" He couldn't help but ask if his mother wanted a dinner to spend time with only them, she could say so, but it seemed that wasn't the case.

"Is something I have been meaning to tell you all for some time." His mother said in a very cryptic way. Rhaegar wasn't satisfied with that response.

"Does it have to do with you meeting Jon Snow secretly?" Elia quipped with a slight smirk on her face.

"What?!!" Rhaegar shouted, not bothering to keep his voice down, his mind in turmoil; looking at his mother, she seemed somewhat annoyed by Elia.

"Mother, is this true?" Rhaegar demanded, raising his voice even more. If it were, he would have the bastard's head.

"No." His mother answered immediately as if she could somehow read his thoughts. Rhaegar looked at his mother as if trying to tell whether she was lying or not, but his mother was always better at hiding her emotions. He couldn't tell, but if she wasn't willing to say anything, he could get the truth from the bastard.

"As I said before, you interrupted me, Elia. I will tell everyone something. I want all of you there. No exceptions." His mother all but ordered them, giving her youngest son a look as she said the last part, knowing his activities in brothels.

Elia flinched slightly from the glare Rhaella sent her. Once she left the chamber, Rhaegar turned to his wife.

"What meetings?" He asked; Elia sighed, a part of her regretting that she had opened her big mouth before telling him that she had heard from multiple sources that his mother had invited Jon Snow into her bedchambers at morrow.

Now, Rhaegar was half-convinced to order any Kingsguard to bring the bastard right in front of him for questioning.

"I doubt they are meeting for that reason, father. I have seen the way she looked at him is not a look of lust, but rather concern, longing." The way she looks at us, Aegon thought, but kept that to himself, looking at his father over the rim of his goblet. He remembered his opponent during the Melee, and Jon was a little similar to his father, but Aegon kept that to himself too.

Not the first time she had been discreet about something, Rhaegar wanted to say. He knew just how much his mother could hide things. Sometimes it was scary. Now he found out that his mother had been having meetings with Jon Snow in private. Breathing in and out. He decided he could talk with the boy after tomorrow, Mayhaps.

Elia, who was leaning against the wall, walked up to him, her arm sneaking around his. "How about we prepare for today's feast? I'm sure everyone wants to see our new champion. And don't worry about your mother. Perhaps she wants comfort in the arms of another man. She might not be as young, but she's prettier than most ladies you find at court." Elia said teasingly, with a slight smile on the corner of her lips.

Rhaegar groaned loudly, and her smirk grew. She's torturing me, Rhaegar thought helplessly, hoping someone could come and save him.

Once they reached their bedchamber, as soon as the door was closed. Rhaegar pinned her against the door. "Ohhh, Rhaegar." Elia moaned, music to his ears as his hands cupped her large round ass, one of his favorite parts, his lips near her ear as he growled slowly, just the way Elia liked it.

"You enjoyed it, didn't you? Well, now I will enjoy torturing you," Rhaegar growled, giving her earlobe a soft bite.

"Ohhhh, Yess. Fuck Me, Rhaegar."

Later - Night

Once the feast started, all he could hear anyone talking was The Melee, Jon Snow, and Dark Sister, holding a goblet in his hand full of wine, his eyes went to his mother, who wasn't looking at Jon, but Rhaegar could see the small looks she was sending towards the Winner of The Melee.

Once

Twice

Thrice

Rhaegar had to admit that perhaps his son was right, he couldn't see Lust in his mother's eyes, or maybe she was just too good at hiding it. His eyes went to the Northern Table. They were the loudest tonight, and for a good reason.

Their wild card had won the Melee, and Rhaegar had promised the boy to Knight him if he won the Jousting. Rhaegar had never seen him ride a horse, but if he was half as good at riding a horse as he was at fighting, he was sure Jon could win The Jousting.

Looking at the Northern Table again, only now he noticed the woman with blonde hair sitting beside the boy. To his eyes, she looked like a Lannister with golden hair, but he doubted she was one.

But the way they were looking at each other, the little touches, and the way they were sitting so close to each other, Rhaegar knew they were a couple.

Rhaegar sighed in relief, his shoulders slumped down, feeling as if a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders, perhaps Elia was wrong, and nothing was actually happening between the boy and his mother.

The Feast went on normally, nothing unusual; Rhaegar had to admit that he was getting tired of fish. Why couldn't Harrenhal serve them something else? The Northern Table was making sure to be loud tonight, especially the giant man. The ale was flowing like rain.

Rhaegar couldn't wait until this feast ended; hearing the noises suddenly quiet down, he looked up to see the reason why? Walking towards the Royal Table was Jon Snow, two swords strapped to his hips; Rhaegar knew both were Valyrian Steel Swords.

Dark Sister, and Wolf's Blood, Rhaegar thought, remembering the names Arthur had mentioned.

Once he was five meters away from the Royal Table, the Kingsguards moved in front, stopping him from taking a step further. The Hall had gone silent, waiting to see what Jon Snow was trying to do.

"My King. My Queen." Jon greeted them, bowing his head accordingly. Rhaegar noticed he didn't sound nervous, as people usually did; even lords sometimes would stumble on their words when trying to say something to the Royal Family.

"Maester Aemon Targaryen in Night's Watch gave this to me when I visited four years ago." He started earning gasps from everyone, many not knowing there was a Targaryen at the Wall.

Why did Uncle Aemon never mention it? That's all Rhaegar could think, he had exchanged letters back when he still chased prophecies, but his uncle had never once mentioned that he had Dark Sister with him; Rhaegar didn't know what to make of it.

Everyone was quiet, waiting for Jon to either say in front of the King that the Sword belonged to him or ask for a price.

But none happened. Instead, Rhaegar saw the boy slowly pull out Dark Sister from his hip, still sheathed, his Kingsguards' hands went to the pommel of their swords, expecting to protect the King when Jon simply handed Dark Sister to the nearest Kingsguard, who happened to be Ser Arthur.

The knight looked at the boy oddly but said nothing as he handed the Sword to Rhaegar, who actually couldn't believe the Stark boy was giving this away. Surely this was a ploy of some kind.

Grabbing it from the handle, Rhaegar looked at it from up close. The beauty of the sword was unmatched by any other blade, and he had seen many in his life. Is even more beautiful than Dawn, Rhaegar thought, his fingers tightened around the scabbard.

"What Price?" Rhaegar asked right away. He wouldn't let this sword get away from his grasp, looking back at Jon, who smiled softly. Rhaegar expected him to ask for Gold Coins, The Stark Name, to become a Lord, Land, or anything, but instead, he got A smile that reminded Rhaegar of...

.

.

.

"Nothing."

Rhaegar blinked, and so did many others. Surely I must have heard him wrong. Rhaegar thought, knowing nothing in this world was ever Free.

"Nothing?"

"I don't need anything, your grace. Maester Aemon might have given me the Sword, but Dark Sister will always belong to House Targaryen." Jon said respectfully, still wearing the same smile, bowing his head before walking away back to his table.

There was nothing but silence as Jon simply returned back to his seat as if nothing had happened; Rhaegar himself didn't know what to do until his Mother started clapping. Many others soon followed her. The applauding soon Quieted down.

Rhaegar decided to keep Dark Sister close. He would give it to Aegon once the feast ended. His son deserved it more than anyone else.

The feast went on without anything exciting happening; Rhaegar could see the Tyrells were looking at The Northern Table oddly, mainly Olenna Tyrell, who was looking at the Stark boy as if some interesting piece of a puzzle that she couldn't decipher.

Rhaegar noticed the way his little brother was eyeing the Sword, but Rhaegar had already decided to give it to Aegon. His brother wasn't even a fighter. All he knew was how to swing a sword, but not much else.

It would be wasted on him, Rhaegar thought. For the following two hours, Dark Sister and Jon Snow were the only things people kept talking about before it was whether or not Jon had stolen the Sword, but now what kind of reward Jon would have. The boy's reputation was growing every second. If he won the Jousting, too, he would be the talk of Westeros for quite a while.

Rhaegar could see how Oberyn was looking at Jon with a snake-like grin. The king sighed, knowing his good brother was up to no good. Again.

Aemon Targaryen

Taking a deep breath of fresh air, he felt as if he was getting suffocated inside. He had found a balcony. Not many people were outside, but Aemon preferred this much more than being inside; many Northern Lords were clearly upset about his decision to give Dark Sister to The King.

To my father! Aemon said it in his mind, yet, it sounded so strange.

He still thought of them as just the Royal Family, except for his grandmother and sister.

Hearing faint footsteps, he whirled around with his hand on the pommel of his sword, only to see Prince Oberyn Martell, accompanied by a beautiful woman who he figured was his paramour.

"Prince Oberyn. What can I do for you?" Aemon asked with a little friendly smile.

"I just wanted to talk with the man who defeated my oldest friend," Oberyn said, eyeing him up and down; Aemon gave him a confused look.

"Your friend?"

"Arthur Dayne, we were Childhood friends. I never thought I see the day when someone kicks his arse." Oberyn said, sounding intrigued, looking at the bastard.

Oberyn had to admit the bastard had the looks to pass for a Southern rather than a Northern, and his face reminded him of Rhaegar of all people. If he didn't know any better, with the way the bastard was handling himself, his Valyrian Steel Sword, and his clothes, he would have thought he was Highborn.

"I only got lucky, my Prince. Arthur would have won if it wasn't for Dark Sister." Jon spoke courteously, knowing it would do him no good to play the cocky one. No one liked someone who boasted around.

"...Maybe," Oberyn said, forcing himself not to get a better look. The dim light from the lanterns was the only source of light, Oberyn couldn't see well enough, but the smile on his face was way too similar to Rhaenys.

"You surely got the looks, Jon Snow. You are quite... beautiful." The woman beside the Snake Prince said with a purr; Aemon looked at her.

"Thank you, my lady..." "Ellaria Sand. You have made quite the impression." She said with a flirty smile.

Aemon's eyes flickered at Oberyn, trying to see whether or not he minded, but he seemed pretty amused.

"Is nothing, my lady. I still have to win the Jousting."

"You think you can do it? Perhaps you should visit Dorne after The Tourney. All your brothers and sisters are there." Ellaria said with the same flirtatious smile.

Aemon looked at her oddly. "Dorne doesn't discriminate, bastards. We are all brothers and sisters there. We are all welcome there." Ellaria added, her arm around Oberyn's arm.

"Thank you for the offer, but my wife is not made for that place. She likes the cold." Aemon said with courtesy.

Before deciding that he had more than enough of their company, not that they were annoying, but Ellaria's constant flirting was making him a little uncomfortable.

"Have a Good Night, My Prince. My Lady." Aemon said, bowing his head before walking back inside.

Rhaegar Targaryen

It felt like years, but the Feast ended. Once they stood up to leave, his mother told them all to come with her to her chambers, Dany tried to excuse herself, saying she was tired, but the glare their mother sent her made Dany shut her mouth.

Rhaegar was a little taken aback. He wondered what this was all about that had made his mother so nervous.

Soon they reached her chambers. Everyone was there; Rhaegar noted that there were quite a few goblets filled with wine laying on a round table.

"Ser Barristan," that's all his mother said before the old kingsguard left to do something; Rhaegar looked at his mother from up close. She was quite nervous, her body shifting slightly where she was standing.

"What is this about?" Rhaegar asked, seeing that Elia had noticed the unusual way she was acting.

"It all will be clear once he comes here." His mother answered vaguely.

"Who?" Rhaegar prompted, his patience running thin. His mother didn't answer. Instead, she was silent, as if she didn't even hear him.

Rhaegar was about to ask again what the problem was when the door opened, revealing Ser Barristan with... Jon Snow!! What? Why is he here? Rhaegar asked himself.

"Your grace." Ser Barristan said respectfully, opening the door wide for Jon to enter. The boy was keeping his head down, not looking at anyone, looking at his feet, reminding Elia of Aegon a little when they had caught him trying to touch live steel without supervision.

"Why is he here?" Viserys asked blankly, holding a goblet of wine in his right hand.

Rhaella didn't answer him; instead, she walked up to Jon... looking at the small wound on his head, probably caused during the Melee. The way she was looking at him, the way she was talking to him, Rhaegar couldn't handle it anymore. He was going to get answers now.

"Mother, I think I speak for everyone here. Why is Jon Snow here?" Rhaegar asked harsher than he had wanted, but he didn't want to wait any longer. His mother was quiet for a moment before both turned to face everyone else.

"It is time for everyone to know the truth," Jon spoke, looking up at the king, his grey eyes looking back at Rhaegar's purple eyes. The way the light from the candles was illuminating his face, Rhaegar had to admit that Jon had taken a lot after his aunt.

"What truth?" Dany asked with a soft smile, showing her beautiful teeth, eyeing Jon up and down, her eyes purple glittering slightly.

Earlier

Aemon was in his tent with Val, caressing her belly when the tent opened again. He expected to see Arya but was surprised to see his grandmother walking in alone, Ser Barristan standing guard outside.

"Grandmother!" Aemon found himself saying without thought. He felt good calling her that. She hurried at him, kissing his cheek lovingly.

"Aemon, what did Maester say?" His grandmother asked with concern; looking at the wound, Aemon winced slightly. It felt like the side of his head was pulsating. It was rather annoying and quite painful sometimes.

"He said I should take it easy for a few days." That's all Aemon said as his grandmother lovingly kissed his cheek, much to Aemon's embarrassment, looking away but not escaping Val's teasing smile.

His grandmother sat beside him. "Tonight, after the Feast. Ser Barristan will come to get you. I want to tell them tonight, Aemon." His grandmother said, waiting for him to either approve or disapprove.

Aemon took a deep breath, he knew this day would come, and there was no point in delaying it any; further. He had been trying to for many days now.

"What about the Whole Realm?"

"After The Jousting, your father will gather everyone in the Great Hall of Harrenhal and announce your existence to the whole realm." His grandmother said, in the same hall where the council of 101 had been held almost two centuries ago to decide who would rule.

Gathering all the courage he had, Aemon had promised himself never to hide from anyone ever, and if someone ever tried to take something that belonged to him. He would make them pay with Fire and Blood.

"I will be there."

Now

"What Truth?" Silence fell over the room; Rhaegar expected his mother to start talking instead, and Jon took a step forward.

The boy started talking about his life, saying that his whole life, he had wanted to know only one thing. Who was his mother?

Rhaegar found it odd that Lord Stark couldn't simply tell him, then he told them something he found hard to believe.

"You expect us to believe that Brynden Rivers is still alive and he talked to you?" Viserys asked with a hint of mockery; Rhaegar couldn't help but agree with his brother.

"Bloodraven, as he called himself, told me he could tell me the truth about my mother. All needed of me was to find him beyond the wall." The boy continued with his story, Rhaegar found it a little interesting but couldn't see the point of it all, and the way his mother stuck close to the boy was making him feel a little uncomfortable.

"Once I reached the Wall. Maester Aemon gave me Dark Sister, and soon I ventured beyond the wall." The boy then told them of his encounter with the White Walkers.

"Do you really expect us to believe such nonsense?" Viserys stopped him. To him, this fairly tail was getting ridiculous.

The boy looked at Viserys with annoyance but mostly ignored him.

"Viserys enough." Their mother spoke harshly at her youngest boy, who reluctantly nodded.

Now that everyone was quiet, the boy told them a little of his time with the Wildlings, but then he reached the most important part.

"When I saw Bloodraven, he was old, one of his eyes was gone, but he showed me who my mother was." Jon stopped talking. Instead, he walked up to one of the many candles in the chamber before putting his hand right at the flame.

Rhaegar almost shouted at him to put his hand away, but the boy didn't scream in pain, and his skin didn't burn. This boy was like me! Rhaegar thought, a lump forming in his throat. One of the things that had convinced him in the past that he was special was his immunity to flames. He had thought of himself as special, that he was a Dragon. That his children would be Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya come again. That had convinced him to chase the prophecies, that and the dreams of Dragons.

But he had been none of that, but looking at this boy now, Rhaegar wondered who this boy was and what kind of connection he had with Valyrian Blood.

The others had fallen quiet. Many were perplexed seeing the hand not burn. Pulling the hand away, he cleared his throat.

"Even when Bloodraven showed me the truth, a part of me couldn't believe it until Lord Stark told me the truth of what he had done," Jon said through clenched teeth, but his eyes were sad. Rhaegar said nothing as his mother grabbed Jon's hand with hers before moving a strand of his curly hair away from his face. The boy was reminding Rhaegar too much of... No, What am I thinking? It can't be her...

If Rhaegar had been paying more attention, he would have noticed Elia's face slowly go pale, the color draining from her face, as she took a step forward towards the... boy.

Rhaegar felt the tension rising up, the heat increasing; touching his forehead, the King noticed he was sweating.

"What did he confirm?" It was Dany who asked.

Jon didn't answer her right away; Rhaegar watched his mother whispering something to the boy's ear. He didn't hear it, but whatever she told him filled the boy with confidence.

"Your grace." Jon suddenly addressed the King, who blinked twice before answering.

"Yes?"

"Do you remember what Lord Stark told you that happened in the Tower of Joy?"

Rhaegar felt his throat go dry. The more he looked, the more he could see him in her. It was just way too much. Rhaegar mustered enough strength to tell him what Lord Stark had told him. Everything he remembered. It had been many years, but he still remembered it.

"Yes, he went to the Tower of Joy and returned with a baby. A bastard that wasn't with Lady Ashara Dayne." The boy said.

Rhaegar heard him, yet, he couldn't believe it. This ... it can't be... he can't be my...my...

But he is. Just look at him.

A voice spoke in his head, looking at the boy one more time and trying to desperately find anything that would prove everything he said wrong. He tried to find it somewhere. In his face. His jaw. His hair. His eyes...

.

.

.

.

.

Her Eyes!

.

.

He has his Mother's Eyes!

His eyes were Lyanna's eyes. It felt as if she was looking back at him. The same eyes he still loved to this day, the same eyes that had looked back at him so many times: the same wild eyes, the eyes of a Wild Wolf.

"My Name is Aemon Targaryen, the son of Lyanna Stark and King Rhaegar Targaryen."

Elia gasped in shock, but Rhaegar didn't do anything. He barely heard what Elia said as she walked up to...my Son!

Why? He said it was a stillborn daughter. Why would he lie?

Why wouldn't he? He's his nephew. He had every right to take him away. Why would he trust House Targaryen after everything your House did to his?

He Did Not Have Any Rights. He Is My Son!

Elia didn't even realize it, but she was walking toward him. Her eyes burned with tears. Everything reminded her of Lyanna. She wondered how she hadn't seen it before. Walking up to him, she slowly put her hand on his right cheek, almost afraid that he would disappear before her eyes.

Looking at his eyes, she smiled, the brightest smile she could muster, her lower jaw trembling as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Y-you're Alive!" Elia choked out, cupping his face, his eyes red with unshed tears. Without saying anything, she threw her arms around him, she felt him stiffen against her, but his body relaxed when she felt his arms around her.

"I never died. I was just... Lost." Jon...No, Aemon whispered in her ears. She actually laughed, she didn't know why, but she laughed as she held him close. With all the Love she could show. Lyanna, your son is with us, she thought, crying even more. Happy Tears. She felt her heart almost burst from her chest. She didn't know how her heart hadn't burst yet.

Kissing his cheek, she saw him blush slightly, something she found adorable; stepping back, she wiped away his tears with her thumb.

"You look just like your mother," she said; Aemon smiled upon hearing that.

"You have known, Grandmother?" Aegon asked, who was now standing close, looking at Aemon in a strange way, not knowing what to make of him yet.

"Yes. For a few days. We just needed time until we figured some things." Rhaella confirmed, still holding Aemon's hand for support; Aemon was engulfed yet by another hug; Rhaenys had thrown herself at him, almost knocking him down.

"My Valonqar." She whispered lovingly in his ear. It took everything for her not to kiss him right there in front of the whole family.

Elia was overjoyed to see Rhaenys hug Aemon like that. Her eyes went to Aegon, who approached with an uneasy smile, still not knowing what to say exactly.

"You fought well. I wouldn't mind if we could get to fight again." Aegon said with a little smile; Elia knew they would get to know each other eventually.

Dany walked up to Aemon with a broad smile across her beautiful face. "It's good to meet you, Aemon. I hope you're not as boring as Aegon." She japed to lighten up the mood around the room before Dany kissed both of his cheeks and gave him a hug.

"Welcome to Family," Dany whispered to his ear before kissing his cheek again; Elia almost laughed at the blushed face of Aemon. He looked like an embarrassed little kid.

When it came to Viserys, he looked as if he didn't want to stand up from where he was, but Rhaella's glare made him reluctantly hug his nephew.

"Don't mind him. He will warm to you eventually." Elia whispered to Aemon once Viserys returned back to his seat.

But when everyone's eyes went to Rhaegar, he had been the one who hadn't budged from his place. He looked as if he didn't even want to.

"Rhaegar," Rhaella called her son. Knowing Aemon would be heartbroken if Rhaegar didn't acknowledge him.

"For many years, I cursed the gods for what happened to Lyanna and our child." He stopped mid-sentence. "But here you are..." his words trailing off, slowly approaching Aemon. Rhaegar did the only thing he could think of doing.

Hugging his son. She was right! Lyanna was always right, Rhaegar thought.

'"Our Daughter will be the most beautiful princess."

"Is not a girl growing in my belly, my prince," Lyanna said, kissing him.

"How do you know?"

"A mother always knows."

Hugging him close, Rhaegar cried. For so many years, now, he felt happier than he had ever felt for so many years. A piece of Lyanna was returned to him. Their son was alive. And he could love him to the end of his days.

"...Father," Aemon whispered, hugging Rhaegar back.

"You're at home, Aemon. You Have returned to Us."

So, What do you think about the Chapter? I hope you enjoyed it. Have a Good Day.