24

ISummary:

Lots of Jon and Rhaenys interactions and a trip to the woods.

Notes:

So much for shortening chapters...

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

For all that he had explored Winterfell in his years, Jon had never really been in the Guest House, the housing for noble visitors just never had the appeal to catch the attention of a boy. It wasn't run down like the First Keep, where to a child it felt like one was exploring the haunted keep of the kings of old and fending off evil invading creatures. Instead the visitors quarters were nearly as warm as the Great Keep.

The first person he'd run into was Mira, who gave him a shy smile and wave before quickly slipping into her room with a blush to pack for visiting her family.

It was shameful how lost he was in his own home, he didn't even know where the finest chambers were and the Forester hadn't even given him the chance to ask if she knew.

After minutes of walking up and down stairs and halls, Jon found the guest hall which doubled as a private dining room. He never knew behind its dais stood a beautifully carved wall of stone depicting the many sigils of Northern houses. From the floor rose the swampy water with its frogs, lilies, lizard lions and a merman's tail. A direwolf stalked the shore above with moose, bears, horses, and giants in its shadow among the trees. Above the mountains a crescent moon was countered by the Karstark sun, and between them the many four pointed stars of the Whitehills. The sole house that appeared excluded was the lack of a flayed man, which greatly amused him. Jon wondered why this was not made somewhere more traveled, he thought it gave a great sense of unity and art, did Sansa know about this? Did the Red Keep have something like this?

Pulling himself away from the distraction, Jon renewed his focus on finding Aegon. There were still two more floors to explore or he had already passed his brother's quarters without realizing it.

"Little wolf!" A boisterous startled Jon. Further up the staircase was the largest of Ashara's guards: Theo Wull. One of the Northmen that gave up the lives they knew to protect Jon. Four and ten years of life away from home and family, all for Jon.

"Theo. Welcome back to the North." Jon greeted the man with a smile.

Snorting, the Wull grinned back. "It's a helluva lot colder than I remember but this castle is a damn godsend."

Jon pitied the poor builder who thought to pipe the springwater through the walls, they truly deserved all the praise for their genius and yet their name has been forgotten. Smallfolk, maester or bastard, a man should be remembered for such an achievement, a legacy shouldn't be only earned through war. Theo was among a group of men that too deserved recognition.

Breathing in, Jon tried to let his gratitude show. "Theo, I can never thank you enough for what you have sacrificed for my sake, you haven't seen your family or home in over a decade. If there is anything you want, I will try my best to see it done."

He was met with more of the Wull's deep chuckling. "It wasn't all that bad; became a knight with good friends and Lady Dayne's sweets have nearly given me a belly. That Dornish sun is hell though."

"I still would like to express my gratitude beyond simply ensuring what you've done for me goes in the books." Jon didn't think he could live without guilt if he failed to thank Theo and the others.

"Well, you've done that now." Theo gave him a heavy pat on the shoulder. "So what are you doing here, Little Wolf? I still can't believe how big you are now, when I last saw you, you were just a wee one."

Promising to reward the five whether they want anything or not, Jon let himself smile at the man. "I'm looking for Ae, actually. I don't know what room is his. And can you pass on my thanks and offer to the other three if you see them?"

An amused huff of air exited Theo's nose. "William might ask to stay dead to escape the wrath of his wife. And follow me I'll take you to the brat."

"She still has a grudge against Lord Stark so I don't blame him. I believe Lord Stark is hoping he is still in King's Landing when Barbrey learns the truth." Jon pitied the two men, at least Jon would mainly rule from the capitol when the wars were done. Barbrey was a smart woman and he didn't fancy dealing with her much considering he was the main reason her husband hid from her, he'd let Robb and his uncle deal with her.

Reaching a door, Theo slammed a fist on its surface in a loud rattling knock. "You got a visitor." Smacking Jon on the back in what was presumably a pat, Wull left him there.

When Aegon swung the door open, Jon was still a bit shaken by the pat. His brother raised a black haired brow that contrasted his light hair. "Bit of a bad time for a spar." They both knew Jon wasn't here for a spar.

"I wanted to speak to you and Rhae." This was a conversation that needed to be discussed before any more plans were conducted. Jon hated every moment that everyone had just presumed it would be the same as last time.

"Alright, no flirting with me in the room or I'm running to burn my ears off. You might want to do the same if you hear her try to sing." Aegon smirked at him before rapping on the neighboring chambers. "Also, in terms of children, quality triumphs over quantity."

Before Jon could refute, a voice spoke through the door. "Yes? Who is it?"

"Just me." Aegon brought a finger up to his lips in a silent shush when Jon nearly announced himself.

"Fine. What do you want Ae?" With the door open, Jon saw Rhaenys sat atop her bed looking like a small boulder with how covered in furs she was. Seeing him, she froze wide eyed before hiding deeper into her sheets. Between her hat and the furs blanketed over her head and pulled in front of her face, only her eyes were visible. Her annoyance caused her to forget her shyness quickly. "Just you? Really Aegon?"

Aegon's cheeks pulled his grin wider. "I don't see the big deal."

Glaring at the blonde, Rhaenys threw her hat at her brother. "It is a matter of courtesy and being polite. What if I was preparing a surprise for Jae and you ruined it?"

"I doubt you'd let me see any surprises you have planned for Jae."

Recoiling with her nose wrinkling, she gave Egg a look of disgust. "Don't be gross Egg."

Shrugging, Aegon shouldered Jon. "You two aren't going to have any children if you think that is gross."

Rhaenys rolled her eyes. "I hope you didn't come here just to tease us."

Wishing to spare Rhaenys from more of Aegon's teasing, Jon spoke. "I wished to discuss succession."

"Jae, you're the king, that's all there is to be said." Aegon looked completely dismissive of the issue. Jon couldn't tell if it was because he was uncaring or because he was trying to hide bitterness.

"Just because I was named king last time does not mean I need to be this time. If you wish for the throne then it is yours." Over the past moons, Jon had harbored so much guilt, he stole Aegon's crown. It didn't help that everyone was expecting him to do it again, acting as if he was already king, no one even asked him what he wanted. Last time he became king only because he was capable of uniting the realm in ways Aegon couldn't, but now they had time to forge alliances through other means.

One at a time, rolls of laughter rolled up Aegon's throat. "Do I want the throne? Gods no. Have you read anything of history? We Aegons have the most wonderfully peaceful rules." The sarcasm practically dripped off Egg's final words.

He wasn't wrong, the Conqueror had the conquest and Dornish War. Aegon the Uncrowned dealt with Maegor. The Dance of the Dragons with Aegon the Second. The Third also suffered from the Dance, and saw the end of the dragons. The Unworthy caused the Blackfyre rebellions. The Fifth too dealt with rebellious lords and later Summerhall. It wasn't an appealing legacy. 

The name Jaehaerys had a much more positive reception. It struck Jon that both Jaehaerys before him were never meant to ascend to the throne like him, they all had older brothers. "I suppose both Jaehaerys had fair reigns."

"Both also made perhaps too many concessions to the lords or the Faith," Rhaenys pointed out.

Sansa, Bran, or Robb may have been able to properly refute that claim but Jon had paid much less attention when it came to the policy side of his education; he had never expected to deal with much of the legal side of things as Robb's master at arms or as a man of the Watch. Jon wasn't poor at history by any means but laws hadn't interested him. "They had less infighting and unrest than other kings. To be honest the standards for kings are rather low."

"Well, it isn't easy to rule. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, they say." Rhaenys smiled softly at him. It was strange to call her beautiful, not because she wasn't, Rhae was very much beautiful, it was because he'd spend moons associating her very familiar appearance to that of his future daughter.

Aegon pointed to himself. "Precisely why I don't want it. I like my neck nice and healthy."

Jon watched Rhaenys shake her head as she sighed, he watched the way her dark waving hair bounced at the action.

He realized his mistake far later than he should have. "Rhae? If you wish to be queen we can make it happen. You don't need to marry me if it isn't what you wish either. I should have asked you first."

The same look of appreciation that she gave him earlier when he promised to prevent her from missing important information in the meeting while she spoke with their children, was back on her face. "Little difference it would have made but I appreciate the sentiment. I don't wish to be queen due to what is expected for the position. I'm not adverse to being a queen but being the queen or a lady has a duty to birth an heir and that does scare me. That isn't a fate I wish to be forced upon myself or my- our children. Either I marry you or I marry a commoner. With you I get to keep my standing in society and I already have evidence I can survive the birth of three of your children." A tint of red began to spread on her tanned skin, which she attempted to hide behind a large golden egg she raised out from beneath her blankets.

"So that leaves me..." Jon didn't know how to feel about that, actually he did and that was the problem.

Snorting, Egg grinned. "Don't look so happy about it, Brother. You are only going to be the person the whole realm will blame for all their ill fortune. And you know, leading everyone against basically the personification of death but I'm sure you'll do great." In a show of Aegon's support he gave Jon a pitying pat on the back.

Jon wasn't sure he liked this when put like that. "And they call me gloomy... Thanks for the vote of confidence, Egg."

"You do actually want it, don't you?" Rhaenys leaned forward over her egg, as if a closer look would help her uncover his secrets. "You were hoping we'd say no, weren't you?"

He'd never have said it aloud, he'd tried so hard not to think about it. Lady Stark's beliefs of him desiring Robb's lordship had ingrained a desire to prove her wrong, he wanted to be better, to be above those bastard thoughts. His desire for it shamed him, more so than his bastardy ever did. It was his envy for all Robb had, for all that Jon did not, that had been at the core of his anger when the word bastard was thrown at him. Jon could tell he had done a piss poor job of not looking guilty by Rhaenys' face. Unable to meet either of their gazes, Jon let his eyes drop to his boots. 

Slipping out of her burrow, stockinged feet padded across the rug covered stone and into his sight. A featherlite touch graced his forearm. "That's nothing to be ashamed of. Your upbringing would nurse such a desire, it is only natural that those born into lacking positions crave that which those more fortunate were blessed with."

The warmth of her touch was enough to make him bring his stare to the soft pitch black of her eyes. He couldn't hold her gaze however. "Is craving power not a sign of a bad king?"

"Ambition is a very commendable trait. There is little wrong with seeking power, the problem lies when those with power steal or keep it from others to boost themselves. I know enough about you to be certain that you would not worsen the lives of the people to make yourself richer, you wouldn't take away their lands or rights. I think it matters little if you want to be king to satisfy some ego so long as you use your power justly." The sincerity her voice was laced with burned away his fear and demanded he search for the same honesty in her eyes.

An awkward shuffling sounded at their side but neither of them looked at Aegon. "Wonderful speech. Now, I'm just going to go, you two look like you might kiss, which is gross and weird... yeah... leaving." The door creaked as he sped out.

For moments they simply stared before Jon found his tongue again. "...Thank you."

Her lips formed the sweetest of smiles. "You're welcome." She bit her lip in a moment of hesitation. "Does that earn me an office under your reign?"

Whatever she wanted, Jon would give her, she gave up her throne for him. Be it a queen's crown or the Hand of the King's pin, it was hers. "The highest offices I can give you are available, if you wish."

His offer or the far creep of her blush snapped her out of their eyelock. She backed away and her shyness returned as she turned slightly away and wrapped her arms around herself. "Supper is soon, I should prepare…"

Jon glanced at the exit, she was right. He needed to ready himself to sit at the high table and at the moment he was in no state of mind to do so. "I-I'll see you in the hall." He made for the door.

"Wait!" Her call stilled him. Rhaenys crossed the room back to the foot of her bed, she picked up one of two boxes scarcely bigger than a head from atop her truck. Soon the crate was offered in her extended arms to him. "This is your. It's always been yours."

Nodding, Jon took it from her, cradling it to his chest. "Thank you. For everything." Pulling open the door, he gave her one last look before supper.

"Goodbye Jae."

His cheeks hurt as he sat atop his bed with Ghost after supper. Jon couldn't remember the last time he'd sat at the high table, especially when Lady Stark was present, but Ashara Dayne and the false tale they spread demanded it.

Lady Stark had seemingly slipped back to her old ways, refusing to so much as look at him and Ashara in favor of conversing with her children or Ser Wendel. Her blue eyes like fierce river eddies had turned on him and his alleged mother, but he knew that was the past decade of fears showing. She'd told them so herself though she never explicitly apologized.

Most of their meal Jon had spent thoroughly distracted with the Dayne woman. Ashara quizzed him on both his lessons, interests and Ghost as she'd treat him like a son. He'd been on such a high at even the faintest hint of motherly love that she'd been able to extract the promise of a dance for the future. The frequency she blessed him with affection had made him feel like a moldable mush in her arms. Her love may or may not be true but regardless it had warmed those hollow parts of his heart that were carved by watching all the embraces, kisses and mothering that Lady Catelyn had given his siblings- cousins.

Between the meeting, his talk with Rhaenys and supper, Jon was exhausted yet he still had more to do. Margaery's nameday was in less than a fortnight and he needed a gift. It went beyond simply being ill mannered for him to not give her a present; Margaery was still grappling with her own tongue and often needed little rewards when she opened up or was honest to prevent her from falling back into a mask. She almost knew herself as little as Jon did, the thought made him want to slap Mace and Olenna Tyrell for making her what they needed her to be.

The jewelry before Jon didn't offer him many choices, there was not one drop of green or gold. Direwolves, dragons, roses and even more plain designs but he could look at them for hours and remain undecided. The roses were the obvious choice but none struck him as Margaery.

As if hearing his suffering, a rap on his chamber door startled him. He quickly pushed the boxes of ornaments beneath his furs in the event Marg was on the one outside his room. "Yes?"

"I was hoping we could speak?" The feminine voice on the other side was familiar, Rhaenys.

He stood and moved to open the door and found he was correct. "Come in Rhae." It was strange how moons ago he almost never had visitors and now he'd had more than all his previous years put together and yet it still made him nervous. 

Biting her lip she nodded and entered his quarters. Rhaenys was almost as twitchy as he felt, her thumb was tapping a knuckle of her other hand rapidly. She stood awkwardly for a moment looking everywhere, the sight of the white wolf on his bed made her smile but didn't repeal her timidness. "I-I understand this might be presumptuous but I was wondering if I could have Father's journals. I m-mean if you have them that is. Mother says he wouldn't have taken them to war and his latest editions were not in King's Landing or Starfall like the others. I thought he might have left them with you. You can say no, if you want something of him or if you aren't done reading them or… for whatever reason you may have, you don't really need a reason, I'm not entitled to any of it."

Jon had to hold back a smile at her once again rambling. "Aye, you can have them." He still found it hard to attach himself to Rhaegar Targaryen. The journals showed he wasn't the rapist or a villain and even humanized him greatly but the man died before Jon even took his first breath. "He left some other books as well."

"He did?" Black eyes became rounder and gained a hopeful sparkle.

"Aye." The chest was thankfully already out as it normally contained the boxes of his mother's gems. "Sara and Daena made copies of the rarer ones. I haven't had the chance to read them but you can take them if you wish."

She moved closer as he arranged some of the other content of the trunk to remove the books. "Are those your mother's marriage cloaks and Father's harp?"

He nodded.

"Mother's remained on Dragonstone when we left. Ash still has hers though. They were likely burned which is sad and quite the waste of cloth but you likely understand how nobles can be. I might have liked to use the same cloak but had it warmed someone through a winter I would have been happy, unfortunately it can do no one any good as ashes."

Jon felt his lips twitch upwards, she sounded almost like a Stark, thoughts never straying too far from winter despite the summer they were currently experiencing. "A shame. Can you play the harp? I'm afraid I was never taught and that has been made very evident when I try."

A feminine snort escaped her. "No, I'm horrendous at both cooking and all manners of music."

"Aegon warned me about your singing." Jon smirked as her eyes narrowed.

Cutting off a soft growl, Rhaenys huffed. "I suppose he had the right of it, for once. Truly, I am terrible."

"We can't be the best at everything." Jon had tried, he'd tried very hard to best Robb in every subject he could to prove his worth and still Robb had him beat in law, geography and the written word.

"No, we can't, and what are you horrid at?" Rhae tilted her head in question just like Ghost though her cheeks were a little rosy in embarrassment.

"Communication I'm told, as well as fishing and knots are the work of demons." He could perform the basic knots that were needed everyday but with the complex ones he'd somehow almost strangle a finger or make a tangled mess of a knot that was impossible to untie.

On the bright side, his hatred of twisted rope or string was of great enough amusement to her that she giggled. "Knots are simply sequences, they aren't that hard."

Jon gave her an incredulous look, they were bloody hard and it was no help that Theon could do them with his eyes closed as if sailing was in his blood, it was seawater really. 

"Have you opened the box I gave you yet?" She eyed it as it rested at his desk.

He raised a brow, Jon hadn't thought much of it as Rhaenys had nearly forgotten to give it to him and she had not wished to see him open it before her. "Not yet. Is it important?"

Picking up the box she once more pushed it into his arms, nodding. "Yes."

Moving back to his bed, Jon pulled the jewelry boxes out from under his furs so Rhaenys didn't have to stand the whole time.

Ghost sat up quickly when Rhaenys joined them on the bed, his tail wagging madly as she cooed over him. The wolf was suddenly hyper and silently sniffing as he spun and shifted his attention between the box and the girl lavishing him with pets.

"Aww, such a good beautiful boy you are! Your eyes are so pretty Ghosty! So intelligent too, you know exactly what is in there, don't you?" Rhaenys' treatment of Ghost was a good distraction, and it filled his heart to know his companion would be welcomed by all four of his wives, potential wives.

He felt the pull, that touch to his mind the second he raised the lid. Despite the heat exuded from the inside, Jon shivered. The white spheroid attracted his attention like nothing else. Lifting it out of its nest of fine vermillion velvet, the egg turned ice cold rather than the simmering of coals. His hands bleed their warmth and the egg suckled it up, yet it felt peaceful in his daze.

The cold press of Ghost's nose against his hand broke his stare as the wolf retreated on contact. Where the black snout had touched his skin a thin layer of frost had already formed. He couldn't pull away his hands.

"Jae!" She tried to push his arms apart but his hands were stuck to the egg. "Will it to heat up! Dracarys! Do something!"

Jon was frozen figuratively and physically. His heart beating wildly to heat his hands, hands he might very well lose. "Dracarys," nothing. He prayed for it to heat, begged and once more: nothing. "Dracarys. Dracarys. Dracarys," he didn't know how many times he repeated it but it all failed. He closed his eyes and remembered how warm it had been at his first touch. Heat up! It wasn't a prayer or plee this time but a command.

Miraculously it listened. The crystally white scales of the egg suddenly heated and for a moment they felt molten like the glowing red of heated steel, like the bloody crimson specks on each scale. Free from his grip, the hot egg fell into his lap where it didn't feel so scalding.

Gentle hands grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands before the three of them. Rhaenys poked his palm where the imprint of the egg's scales was visible. "Can you feel this?"

Somehow he could, barely, somehow his hands weren't a deathly blue. He could still move and feel all his fingers. Jon was as immune to the cold as he was to fire, circumstantially. It wouldn't save him from a natural fire or dragonfire, the cold beyond the Wall or the Others but he supposed it could possibly be helpful. "Aye. Fingers are a little stiff but they feel fine." Good gods, his heart almost stopped with how relieved he felt, that had been terrifying.

"Oh, thank goodness! It's never done that before, it is usually cold but never that cold." Rhaenys' eyes still held fear but her shoulders had relaxed.

A warm wet tongue licked his hand, making Jon chuckle even though he nearly just lost said hand, he was ticklish. Snapping his arm away from the direwolf he instead wrapped it around his familiar and rubbed the fluffy white fur. "How's your nose Ghost?"

The wolf gave an audible huff of annoyance that made Jon pause. Ghost made a noise. Normally even his breathing and padding was silent. His nose did look fine. Even as he silently growled at the egg.

"Glad to see you two getting along," Jon commented dryly. 

Rhaenys laughed as Ghost looked as exasperated at Jon as a direwolf could. "I could say the same for you and the new addition." She gestured to where his left hand had unconsciously come to rest on the now comfortably heated egg. Ignoring his slight glare, she continued to pet Ghost with him, Rhaenys seemed most comfortable with her hands busy. "May I ask what you were so busy with before I came to bother you?"

Jon decided he could probably use a woman's aid. "Uh, Margaery's name day is very soon, and I was looking through my mother's jewels for a gift."

Humming knowingly, Rhaenys raised a brow. "And you could use some help?"

"Aye. It would be appreciated, you don't have to help though." Jon wouldn't make her do something so inconsequential if she was opposed to it.

"-Because it might make me jealous to help you gift your mother's things to another woman?" Why must she be so smart?

Sheepishly shrugging, Jon grimaced slightly. "Aye."

She smirked. "You aren't afraid I'll choose the ugliest one to give her?"

"I have enough sense to tell what is ugly or not and my mother had fair tastes." He grabbed the boxes from his bedside table and opened them. 

Rhaenys gasped at the inside, not that there was so much inside to be gasp worthy but as he said his mother had good taste. "They're magnificent. Not to sound entitled to any of this but I would like you to know I favor red." Lucky for her there were rubies.

"I shall keep that in mind." He tried to watch her eyes and hands for anything that caught her eye.

Her touch graced a flower of pale sapphires, a winter rose. "Did you know one of the reasons Father gave your mother the crown at Harrenhall was because he thought it would go terrible with my mother's dress?"

Jon resisted snorting. His fathers journals had only mentioned he'd done so because of her actions as the Knight of the Laughing Tree. "Really? I suppose that isn't too surprising, if you haven't noticed; only one of the boxes is organized, the one Father gave my mother."

 "That seems true to his character. Also if you ever intend to gift anything to my mother, refrain from clothing and jewelry with cool colors. She doesn't explicitly dislike them, but she does refuse to wear anything of the type. Mother likes to only wear colors that remind her of Dorne, even when living in her homeland." Rhaenys too tended to avoid any pieces with the blue gems and even the silver and white gold.

He thought that gifts for Elia and Ashara would probably be best to be ordered for them, though they may appreciate one more gift from their late husband and wife. "I may call on you then when it comes to finding the perfect nameday gift for her."

"I think she'd really like that." Rhaenys traced a silver moon with a nostalgic smile. "Father liked to refer to Mother, Lyanna and Ashara as his sun, moon and stars. I see you, on the other hand, have collected the seasons: autumn, winter, spring and summer."

Matching the girls to each season was surprisingly fitting. "Don't let Sansa know she's autumn, she'll hate that."

"We haven't really experienced the season in a long time. I hear the Riverlands can be extremely beautiful in autumn, the trees all have leaves the colors of the dusk, It is even called the sunset of the seasons." She had a dreamy look. They may very well soon see the Tully lands as summer ends and hopefully it hasn't been burned by the Lannisters.

Autumn was also the name of Alsauna's direwolf in her time, for her auburn fur and fierce nature. The Riverlands comment only made Jon associate the season more with Sansa and their eldest daughter. 

If Jon had the seasons and his father had astronomical bodies… "So what is Aegon left to call his wives?"

It took her a short moment but soon she grinned widely at him. "Unwise."

Jon laughed. Did he feel a little bad about it? No. Aegon had claimed his children were superior to Jon's. Still smiling he tried to get back to the task at hand. "Find anything Marg may like?"

"Yes actually. You may think me petty as it conventionally isn't what most seek in jewelry but I think it would pair well with her." Rhaenys lifted a wirey headpiece.

The piece was bronze, with light blue roses. She was right that it wasn't what many would favor but Rhaenys was also correct that it matched well with Margaery. Jon hadn't even paid it any mind before she mentioned it. The bronze and winter roses linked to House Stark but the goldish tint of the root-like wiring and the roses felt Tyrell enough. It resembled a crown just enough that it may offend someone like Cersei but not enough to warrant its removal from a highborn lady's head. 

Oh, he'd so like to see Cersei's face if Marg were to wear it. The thought made Jon smirk and he knew Margaery would love to make that dream come to life. "It is perfect. Thank you for being genuine and honest."

A dazzling smile was sent his way. "I believe being genuine should be the expectation and standard. There is a place for lies and manipulation but not in a marriage, it does me no good to make Marg unhappy, it all comes around."

"So wise. I still thank you, far too many lie to those closest to them, even Lord Stark did so, though I understand why he did so when it comes to Lady Catelyn. We can't trust each other if we aren't honest. Marg has trouble with that but she's getting better." Jon moved a few of the jewels Rhaenys favored and the headpiece before closing the two boxes and standing. 

When he was done putting them away, he looked at the pile of books and then Rhae. She was staring out the dark window, night had fallen and he hadn't even noticed. Noticing her hesitancy he spoke, "Would you like me to escort you back to your room? I'll carry the books as well."

"Yes, thank you. I should carry the journals; we wouldn't want someone to catch a glance of them if they were to fall and open." She fawned over Ghost a few more moments before accepting his hand up and taking their father's notebooks. "Lead the way."

And so Jon did with Ghost at their heels so the wolf could relieve himself outside.

When morning came, Jon broke his fast with Ashara and the others in the guest hall containing the mural. He hadn't slept much, lying on his back staring at the egg atop his chest rising and falling with every breath. Elia had smothered him over the sleepless state while Aegon, being far too jolly for the morning, laughed and Elia's brother watched him with his dark eyes. While Jon had been welcomed by the other side of his family, he still felt like an interloper; he was practically a stranger to them and despite his long moments with Rhaenys, he didn't even have a single soul he was definitively close to.

Following the meal, they went to the yard for spars where they were blessed with some of the best fights he'd ever seen and Cassana versus Jonnel was a sight to behold. Oberyn seemed to have the time of his life, fighting against Baelor and Varon. The battle between the two Dornishmen was a battle between the far ends of the spectrum of spear wielding, the Red Viper was agile and always pressing the attack while Baelor was steady, using his defensive as his offense. Jon's son lost due to Oberyn's surprising use of acrobatics his furs didn't normally abet. Varon managed a win of sorts, his fierce aggression ended up turning it into a wrestle which Oberyn couldn't slither himself out of.

Jon's favorite moments though had to be his own duel against his Targaryen brother, Aegon had been trained from youth by Ser Arthur Dayne and it showed by how quickly Jon lost. He meant no offense to Ser Rodrik but he was no Sword in the Morning, and nearly four moons of training from Jonnel and Cass couldn't match years under the Kingsguard's tutelage plus almost two years of growth and experience that Aegon had on Jon.

Seeing Arthur and Jonnel cross swords was legendary, the ring of their blades was a song of its own. The back and forth of their movement and their almost instinctual knowledge of what the other would do made it like a dance, at times they looked almost like a reflection of one another. The Dayne had taught the art of the sword to Aegon and Egg passed it onto Jon's son when Jonnel squired under him, it was a battle between grandfather and grandson in a way. Arthur, not infallible, won with three hits to Nell's two. 

Rhaenys had shocked him by sparring against Myriah with the daughter besting the mother. They'd had good fun after with a pebble throwing competition which turned into a game of whether he and Egg could dodge the little rocks, the two were better at throwing than Jon and Aegon were at dodging. 

Soon enough it was noon and half the family was mounted on their horses and trotting down towards the Wolfswood. Rickon, and the majority of the time travelers were the few to stay, even Lady Stark and Sansa were coming. Jon sat astride his young black stallion with a weight at his side and the blade that saw another version of Jon through the Second Long Night: Longclaw. Both Rhaenys and Aegon were also loaned a Valyrian blade from the future, the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword after all.

Jon sucked in a breath at the realization he'd end a man's life today. The many executions Jon watched Lord Stark perform came to mind, arms tied at the wrist and bent over a block. Soon he'd swing his sword and remove the head of an unarmed, restrained man.

His thoughts must be easy to read because Daena rode up alongside him. "What notion weighs heavy on your shoulders today?"

"I'm to kill an unarmed man." He watched Arya, Bran, Shireen and Myriah racing their horses further up the column, wishing he could be so carefree at the moment.

Daena looked at him with the start of a smile and a proud glitter in her dark eyes. "It is a good thing you do not find this easy. Should your hands ever not feel the weight of the lives they've taken then you know you are heading down a dark path. Let it be heavy enough to remember but not so much as to encumber you." Like her mother she had the ability to dish out wise comfort.

"And if it does encumber me?"

"Then remember why you killed them. These men committed crimes, they took the lives and choices of innocents away. Had we the resources, time and security, we may have been able to correct them but as it stands we don't and they are a danger to the public. They don't regret their actions. Lord Wyman offered them death or the Wall and they chose death, one way or another they'd have met the same fate." For all that Daena shared Rhaenys' appearance, she shared his brooding frown. Death was no easy topic to discuss. 

She was right that the three men were a danger to the civil people, they'd raped and/or murdered and threatened to do so again. If someone should take their life then it should be him, as someone who won't relish taking their life and as a future king. He'd take the only one that hadn't taken a life, Rhaenys and Aegon needn't fret more than necessary. "Thank you, Daena. Your wisdom is appreciated."

Riding a bit closer to him, his daughter took his hand. "Children are forever in debt to their parents, may this be just a little bit of repayment for the love, lessons and care you've given me." 

"You owe me nothing. I'm sure you've more than repaid any debt you may have felt." Jon would never expect anything in return from his children, they were his responsibility, his actions would make them and their dependence would always derive from their conception. He supposed by that logic, the three men are simply reaping what they sow. Had Daena purposely led him to that conclusion?

Daena shifted in her saddle and leaned to lay her head upon his shoulder for a few moments before rising and gracing him with a smile. "Remember that you will always have this daughter's love. I do recommend you go show Myriah who the superior rider is, she must be getting cocky beating Auntie's filly." She kicked her horse into a canter to return to her mother's side.

Jon recognized Daena's recommendation for what it was, an opportunity to distract himself and take his mind off the coming events. Speeding into a gallop, Jon raced past Marg, Val, and Dalla who were holding their own sort of riding competitions. 

In the end he only had time for one race before they were submerged into the forest and forced into line with the rest of the party. Jon had won the race more due to Shadow's gender and age than anything else; the stallion being taller and stronger than the young mares Arya, Shireen and Myriah rode or Bran's pony, though none were bred for racing. Arya and Myriah rode as well as he did, all three sharing having it in their blood and an interest in riding. 

There had been moments Jon would see Arya laughing as she sped by that he allowed himself to imagine his mother in her place. His uncle had always said she was half a horse, and Jon longed to have ridden with her just once, to have been taught to ride by her rather than the many men that tutored him in this life.

Here he was supposed to distract himself from brooding and instead he dove right for melancholy. But he was spared having to search for another distraction as they entered the clearing with Ser Rodrik and seven men waiting before an empty pyre and farther away the looming weirwood.

"Good timing, Jo-, Your Grace." Rodrick no longer seemed to know how to address him, the little grimace he made pulled at his grey mutton chops. Lord Stark had informed the man of the truth when Rodrick's brother arrived. "We just added the last of the wood to the pyre. Are you sure this is a good spot for what you intend to do?"

Dismounting and tying his horse nearby, he gave the older man a nod. "Jon is fine, you trained me, besides I am no king yet." He had so many names and bloody titles at this point it was getting tedious, he had no patience for all of it. If Jon could have his way he'd remain Jon until his identity was public and even after but Jon was a sordid name for a Targaryen.

A stroke of his whiskers later and the knight conceded. "And the location?"

"I wouldn't have you build another pyre. Besides I believe we are shielded by the thicket more than we are exposed to wanders and hunters." It would be harder to see any attackers than at the hill Lord Stark favored for executions but they couldn't very well hide a flaming pyre on a hilltop. 

Brynnard strolled to them. "I say let the weirwood have its feast, they've been starved for too long and there is no greater nourishment than life."

Behind his son Myriah threw up her hands and marched over before grabbing Brynnard by the scruff of his cloak. "Ugh! Stop sounding like a Cannibal and a cultist." She didn't give her half brother time to protest as he was soon being dragged on his heels away from Jon.

"For all that Brynnard plays up the mysticism, in this case he is correct." Daena had a small grin as she eyed her siblings' interactions. "Magic or not there is power in life, thus power in death. Our corpses feed the earth or beasts, which feed the trees and so on, it is a cycle. Life transfers hands and it is the balance of things, without death or without life, there is neither. Today we are simply controlling the transfer of life to suit our needs."

"I didn't know you were so informed when it came to the subject." He'd never taken Daena for one interested in sorcery, she was interested in facts, morals and the applicable. Sara was the daughter solely interested in information and cared for little but her books and shiny things and Brynnard adored all things magic.

Smiling, Daena chuckled. "It comes with attempting to understand the world. There is little that is illogical beyond people in this world, only unsolved mysteries. Now shall we begin, hmm?"

"Aye." Jon knew it was time. They'd soon behead the three prisoners, it was a quicker and easier death than a knife to the heart from under the arm, though messier. His eyes sought out Rhaenys and Aegon.

They looked as grim as he felt, though they both had a fierce fire in them. His brother greeted him when approached. "Ready?" When Jon nodded, Egg looked to the soon departed. "Shall we have our pick?"

"You two can have the murderers." Jon said it firmly, trying to leave as little question as possible.

Rhaenys' black pools held concern and perhaps a little annoyance but seeing his determination, accepted it. "I'll take the other rapist." Jon felt he understood then that she sought to deal justice for the women wronged. He'd never hear her naturally husky and seductive voice carry such venom. The blade at her hip fit her in this moment, Dark Sister, she'd been given it by Laerra for the deed. 

The sole silverheaded member of the trio was loaned Gnawing Hunger by Aemon, it wasn't Blackfyre which remained in the hands of Faegon, or in Aegon's, just thirty years into the future but it was still a Targaryen's blade. "And which order shall we go in? 'Ladies first' or oldest to youngest?"

"Such a gentlemen." Rhaenys commented dryly but stepped forth with bravery that contrasted her normally shy behavior. Soon the chosen criminal was pushed to the block and Dark Sister was unsheathed and shone like it was salivating in hunger. "Do you have any words?"

Jon toned out the man's sudden change of heart and regrets when he saw the distress on Sansa's face. She was trying to look strong, back straight and shoulders back but her eyes looked haunted. He remembered the last time he'd seen them like so, the night she came after having nightmares of her father's beheading- 

Swiftly moving into the small crowd, Jon took her hand regardless of Robb and Lady Stark's attention now being on him. "They aren't your Father. You'll see him soon, a few moons. You need not look either. Just breathe."

Watery blue eyes looked up at him, and then they closed as Sansa inhaled and exhaled. When they opened they were the icey deep blue of a glacier crevasse, her whole posture switched to the strong queen he'd gotten glimpses of in his dreams, the one who'd been forged into steel over what remained of her childhood. She held his hand tightly and lightly leaned on his shoulder, he felt a little stronger through their union just as she did. "Thank you."

When she returned her gaze to the man still begging for his life, he let his own leave her. Jon caught Lady Catelyn's eyes over Sansa's red mane, the woman who had held only disdain for him gave him an approving nod before looking back before her. He returned his focus to the execution just in time to watch Valyrian steel slice through a man's entire neck as if butter. A slightly more constricting squeeze was all he felt from Sansa, not even a flinch. 

Rhaenys wiped the blade with a rag and carried it with her as she moved to his other side. He could only wonder why she came to him rather than Aegon, Arthur or Elia and Ashara, perhaps because he was already comforting Sansa or maybe because he'd have the same experiences in just a few moments.

Theo and oddly Theon moved the body and head to the pyre, Theon showing the dead much greater respect than when he kicked the deserter's head during Bran's first execution. Whether it was an effort to not be such an ass or not has yet to be seen.

The ring of Gnawing Hunger being pulled out of its sheath lingered in the silence of the clearing, even the prisoners seemed to accept their fates. The red ripples glittered like bloody rubies on the dark blade as even the weirwood shivered and light passed its crimson canopy. Aegon's more jovial mood was missing and in its place was a hardness as unbreakable as his blade. "Any words for the living?"

Bound and kneeled, the man spat as close he could to Aegon's boots. "No. Get on with it."

"So be it. Then by the blood of Old Valyrian in me, may the flames of hell welcome you home." Aegon put the man to death as easily as his sister had.

Sighing, Jon received a squeeze on both hands as he stepped forth towards the face of the tree and the final man was positioned at the block.

The rapist didn't wait to be asked to speak. "I never touched those women! I swear on my life! You must believe me!"

A ferocious wind rattled the branches as it weaved through the woods. "Lies!" A crow croaked from a chalky white limb of the ancient tree. Brynden Rivers was watching. Jon was not stupid enough to realise the man could easily lie, Crows are known liars according to Nan's tales. Bloodraven supported the Targaryens but he had differing methods both as Maekar's Hand and not.

Looking to Rhaenys for a character assessment, she shook her head and glared at the untruthful man. Wendel too had agreed.

Longclaw became light in his hand once more when freed of the weight of doubt. "Anything else you wish to say?" The man cursed him and every viewer. "Then for your crimes against the realm, I do sentence you to die." Jon's blade was true, an extension of himself and it carried out his will. Rolling, the head came to a stop with its dead eyes looking at Jon and he was strong enough to meet its unseeing gaze.

With the last man lifeless and transferred to the pile of sticks and logs, everyone's attention shifted with the corpse. A part of Jon's mind ached to see the dead burn, an instinctual craving and thoughtless habit. The thought made him shut his eyes tightly and attempt to drive off the desire as if it wasn't coming from his own mind. He was going mad.

The three eggs were laid at the feet of the headless men and a lit torch was pressed into Jon's free hand. Everyone's gaze was on him, it was something he had yet to get accustomed to. Ghost brushed against his leg as Jon took a breath and moved. Crouching he stuck the torch into the dry brush and straw. The resulting flame was enthralling and he nearly didn't retreat wanting to be engulfed in its embrace.

Jon did however back away before the embers could nip at his britches. His heart was wildly trying to pound its way out of its cage as the orange-gold consumed the pyre. Jon's shoulder shook.

It was just Robb's hand. "Jon… You alright, Jon? You didn't notice me for a while there." Those Tully-blues held concern, rightfully so, even Jon was concerned.

"Aye. This is just a bit surreal." One moment Jon was fine then now that he is to be more Targaryen than his immediate ancestors, it suddenly felt as if his mind had desires of its own, was this what it was like for Aerys or Brightflame before their madness was evident.

"I understand. To think all those times we screamed out we were Daeron the Young Dragon or Aegon the First and here you are about to be a Dragonlord." Robb turned back to the pyre waiting for the fabled cracks and screeches. "It's mad. All of this."

He agreed. "It is." Jon's life was mad, this moment was, and he very well may be as well. He didn't even know why he was pleased about that. 

The popping and snapping continued and there was no sign the dragons hatched. Jon spied Aegon and Rhaenys equally fascinated by the sight before him. It took a few moments before Jon could clear his mind enough to approach Rhae. "Do we have to step inside the flames?"

The half Dornish woman snorted. "If you wish to be dramatic you may. I would recommend stripping beforehand however, your daughters put a lot of work into that outfit. On the other hand, I am happy to stay where I am, clothed and not covered in the ash of wood and the dead. We do have an audience, one of which is my br- Oh! Gods, Aegon!" Rhaenys gasped and covered her eyes. "-who it seems doesn't share my reservations."

Aegon was down to his underclothes and sticking a hand into the large flame before being satisfied and disappearing in the glow of the fire. Suddenly Jon felt a lot less crazed in comparison. Instinctively Jon's free hand raised to cover Sansa's vision. 

Groaning, Rhae's eyes were still clamped shut. "Aegon has completely tarnished any joy I may have felt at this moment. The hatching of my dragon and the memory is scarred by the presence of my brothers nude form."

Jon agreed, maybe it was her reaction but it no longer felt as sacred. "You can open your eyes, he is completely engulfed in the fire."

"Good." Dark eyes popped open. "When he was a babe he used to chase me around the manse naked until I cried." She glared at the flickering figure in the flames. "I suppose we should stick a hand in just to claim 'unburnt.'"

Nodding, they passed off their swords and rolled up a sleeve. He could feel the near searing heat but felt none of the accompanying pain. Reaching for his egg to check its state resulted in something piercing the skin of his hand and arm. Yanking his hand out of the flames made it cut deeper.

Looking down at his char covered limb, he saw two beads of bright scarlet blood. Then they disappeared for a split second and reappeared, a blink. The infantile beast was shockingly light. It clawed its way up his arm, raising its blackened snow white head before his own and huffing.

The breath was chilling and made Jon recoil and shiver. "Frostfyre." His voice came out slightly hoarse but reverent, the bloody lizard was still a dragon. Jon winced slightly with every poke of its small claws as it climbed to his shoulders before it used Jon's ears as grip to hold itself to his head. "Ow!"

Around Rhaenys' neck, resting on her shoulders was Sundancer, as elegant and graceful as a feline. Its golden scales were so shiny they glittered even under the soot that dirtied it.

Every onlooker's face held awe. Bran looked at him like he was a legend from one of his stories. Lady Stark hid a slight fear of him well, but seemed to be battling a smile knowing her family would be under the protection of three dragons. Marg was grinning widely. Arya had a wicked grin.

"Aww!" Sansa cooed, finding the dragon nearly ripping his ears off in an attempt to mimic a hat to be cute.

Utterly fascinated with the beast on his head, Val grinned at him as if his worth as a mate doubled. 

Wendel was speechless. The heavy man simply dropped to a knee and others followed.

The few who neither kneeled or curtseyed were his children and their mothers, these were his family and those close, they shouldn't kneel in private. Jon waved them up. "Rise."

Finally emerging from the flames, Aegon sauntered over, being enough of a gentleman to cover himself with one hand while cradling the screeching ruby dragon to his chest. "You two need to live a little, how often does one get the chance to be completely engulfed in flames and be untouched? I am now unburnt. Weren't you listening when Haella listed Aunt Daenerys' impressive list of titles?" 

He was pretty sure Haella had been mocking the list but Jon could recognize the power stories held and titles carried stories. Looking at Egg, Jon only managed to resist laughing due to his previous moods.

Rhaenys didn't fare as well and snorted. "Jae and I stuck an arm in so we can claim the title and experience the sensation." So she was giving him the honor. 

"I'm rather glad we didn't follow your example." Jon tapped his head, carefully avoiding the dragon and it still tried to bite him.

Aegon removed the hand preserving his modesty and rubbed his scalp and gulped. "I have made a grave mistake… Don't you dare say it!"

A smirk broke through Jon's control. "But Egg, it is more appropriate than ever." The Dornish party and Jon's children broke out in chuckles much to Aegon's ire.

"Rhae, stop laughing," Aegon demanded, still self conscious of his hairless head.

"I'm afraid not, Egghead. Now please, do cover yourself." 

Jon watched on in fondness. They had dragons, it made the idea of the imminent wars real. Jon had Ghost and now he had Frostfyre, he was a dragon and a direwolf, no longer could he deny that he was one or the other. Now the hard part might be stopping the dragon from eating the wolf and the wolf from tearing at the little lizard, one couldn't win as he had need of them both.

Notes:

I think the talk with Theo and the bit with the jewelry could probably have been summarized or referenced in short at an appropriate time later in the story rather than explore them in full but I fell back into my bad habit. I promise I am trying to prioritize main plot points and be efficient.

None of you know just how often I write rants about fanfiction or GoT related subjects in the endnotes before deleting them.

Next chapter will be another Jon chapter, covering some more plots and setting up the next arch. Plus some more fluff and Jon interactions with his kids.

Upcoming Chapter POV Order:

Jon IV

Sansa II

Multi IV

Multi V

Mya I