Jonothor of the Tower

Hello Everyone!

Chapter 6 : 'Uncle Jonothor'

Chapter 7 : 'Princesses and Past Sins.'

Chapter 8 : 'Brothers'

Chapter 9 : 'Two sides of the Same Coin

Chapter 10 : 'The Sea Snake and The Queen Who Never Was.'

Chapter 11 : 'A Disgusting Duty'

are available on

https://www.patreon.com/MonsieurLAH

Enjoy reading !

Jon never told anyone who had split his lip, he pretended to have tripped in the stairs and had Ser Harold sworn to secrecy over the events that transpired in Rhaenyra's bedroom.

Ser Criston had been dubious, his mother had been furious, but none of them had pushed the subject.

Jon was more angry at himself than he was at Rhaenyra, after all, he had pushed her far more than what he had intended to, his sister had lost control of herself and instantly regretted and apologized for her slap. But that did not change the fact that she had hurt him, for he had seen, behind those purple eyes of hers, that she had been terrified of him. Jon could not possibly comprehend what was going on inside his sister's mind, he could not imagine what would have caused her to fear her six years old brother, but the fact remained that she was afraid of him.

Was she feeling insecure because of her sex? Did she fear that he would usurp her one day and take her place on the Iron Throne? Jon had no wish to rule, truth be told, he was actually glad he had been born after Rhaenyra, that meant that all he was expected to do was to find himself a suitable bride, perhaps even a big castle and lands to rule over, and aid his sister in her rule. A far better life he could have aspired to, had he remained Jon Snow.

Still… the fact that his sister was afraid of him had disturbed him. He had no wish to hurt her, but if he were to say that he was not afraid of any drastic measures coming from her part would be a lie. There were some lessons from his old life that he remembered, and among them were the gruesome punishment she had administered -or would administer- to those who had questioned her sons' birth. And perhaps… just perhaps… Rhaenyra would…

No, Jon refused to believe that she, of all people, would hurt him to secure her child's right to the Iron Throne. It wouldn't even be enough, for she would have to take care of his… of their brothers as well.

Such a thing was unimaginable for him, Jon wasn't even sure if the child his sister was carrying was indeed a bastard. But what if he ended up being one?

Jon would not hate the child, he was not Catelyn Stark, he would not despise a child for being what Jon himself used to be. But at the same time… Jon could not help but feel deeply hurt by the irony of his new life.

Jon Snow, the Bastard of Winterfell, had known his place, and would never have betrayed or usurped his trueborn brother. But now, he who was trueborn, was supposed to accept a bastard's claim over his? That was preposterous to say the least. The Seven Kingdoms were already having a hard time accepting a woman as heir, how could they accept a bastard after her? Many wars had started and would start for far less than that. His sister could not possibly imagine that she could get away with that without a tremendous amount of bloodshed.

Yet… after witnessing the distress in Rhaenyra's eyes… Perhaps… Perhaps he had made a mistake.

His sister was not some kind of evil slut that wanted to sully the Iron Throne with unworthy heirs. She was…often alone, she had not many friends, her husband did not take good care of her, their father was rarely here for anyone… Mayhaps she simply did not care if the child was a bastard or not, she would see it as her child and defend it with everything she has. That was all a mother could do and all a child could ask. The problem was social, and would escalate should things keep going the way they were. If, as Jon suspected, the wrong seed had impregnated his sister, and if the child's traits were too obvious to the eyes of the World, heads would fall, tongues would be ripped, and Dragons would dance.

Jon did not know what to do, the child that was inside Rhaenyra's womb would be his nephew, he was bound to defend him as he would defend any member of his family. However, he knew that the child's bastardy, if confirmed, would cost this family far more than it should.

This child that was growing inside his sister's womb and all the others that would come after him… The Dance had practically started over them, the fruits of Rhaenyra's loneliness, born from the…

Jon stopped himself for a second, in the blink of an eye, he forgot everything about Rhaenyra and her children, his thoughts focused solely on Ser Harwin Strong.

What in the name of the Old Gods has this man been doing?! Bedding his Princess, spilling his seed in her womb without a care in the World. Did that man not care about fathering a bastard? A Royal one at that! Did he not care that Rhaenyra was about to give birth to one? Did he not care about his child's fate, should it look nothing like its mother?!

Rage overcame Jon as he realized who was the one to blame for the Targaryen family's inner turmoil. Ser Harwin had dishonored his princess, condemned his own brood to bastards lives, and never took responsibility for his sins. Men far more honorable had been executed for far less!

Hatred and rage were too potent for Jon to handle alone, soon he drowned in those as he imagined Breakbones' cocky grin after he had defiled his sister.

Jon was not in his bedroom anymore, he was flying in King's landing's sky, under the moonlight, screeching in fury.

He went down to brush against the city's rooftops, while thousands of people screamed in fear and delight as they saw him pass above them, his red eyes scanning each and every armored man, looking for the one he wanted to destroy.

His hunt lasted for hours, yet, he went back to his nest empty-handed that night, angry and frustrated, he went to sleep, and his purple eyes reopened.

(-)(-)(-)

Usually, when Jon was breaking his fast with his family, he was in a good mood. His mother would welcome him with kisses, his sister Helaena and his brother Aemond would rush to hug him, Aegon would sulk but at least he'd be polite. And Viserys would barely say 'good morning', then he'd eat his food and leave. Rhaenyra rarely shared a meal with them.

But today, as he made his way inside the dining room, he immediately noticed his father's severe look and his mother's worried gaze, and couldn't help but raise a curious eyebrow, as Helena and Aemond came to hug him.

"Jonothor," their father said as he waited for his younger children to release their brother, "sit down, we need to talk."

"You could have said 'good morrow' at the very least." The boy thought before he took his place between his mother and twin.

"During the night, your Dragon, Ghost, has been spotted flying dangerously close to the city's rooftops. Reports say that he screeched like he was possessed and that he terrified many of the smallfolk."

"But he did not hurt anyone, did he?"

"No," Viserys acknowledged, "he did not. But I am afraid that because of last night's disturbances, your dragon will have to join the others in the Dragon Pit from now on."

Rage immediately flowed inside Jon's body, rage that was shared with his flying friend, he gritted his teeth but forced himself to remain calm and composed.

"Why? Because he screeched a little? Someone must have been stupid enough to throw something at him and fast enough to hide before he could find the culprit. There is no need to punish Ghost."

"Jonothor." The King said with a stern voice. "That is enough, I tolerated your antics regarding your dragon because it never caused any trouble until now. You will obey your King…"

"I refuse."

Alicent gasped, Aegon raised his eyebrows at his twin's bold act, Helaena and Aemond looked worried as the Kingsguard present looked aghast, even Viserys was flabbergasted before he regained his composure and increased his severe look.

"You dare…"

"I am sorry father,"Jon spoke before his liege finished, "But chaining Ghost would destroy the bond he and I have shared since my first nameday -and before-. I would forever loose control of him if I were to betray his trust. I will accept any punishment you see fit, have me whipped, forbid me from flying on his back until my tenth nameday, lock me in my chambers for months, strip me from my title as prince of the Realm if you must, but I cannot chain him. Know that it is not my wish to disobey you, Father, it is simply something I cannot do no matter what happens. I swear by the Old Gods and the New that such an incident will not happen again, Ghost's behavior will be exemplary. Please Father…"

To Jon's surprise, Viserys looked slightly conflicted, perhaps the King had expected his son to simply follow his command no matter how hard it would be for him. But to hear that Jonothor was ready to give up his title as prince of the Seven Kingdoms to protect his dragon… Now that was something that Viserys had not expected. Such a declaration was more than enough proof that his boy had an iron will that could not be bent so easily.

"Listen to me, Jonothor, and listen to me carefully." The King warned. "I'm willing to give you Dragon another chance, given how well you have pleaded for its freedom, but I warn you: should Ghost cause any trouble in the city, I'll have him sent to Dragonstone and you will not be granted the right t ride him until your sixteenth birthday. Am I clear?"

Needless to say that Jon was angry, his dragon had barely screeched a little one night after almost six years of good behavior. He knew that talking back to the King would be risky, but under no circumstances would he see Ghost put in chains, that much was out of question.

"Yes, Your Grace." He answered diplomatically.

"Good!" Viserys rose after barely touching his food. "Now, I believe you have duties to attend, finish your meal and go, I expect to hear good things about you from the Grand Maester this evening."

And with that, the King left the dinning hall, escorted by two of his Kingsguards, letting his oldest son ruminate under the critical eye of his Mother.

"Jonothor…"

"I know, Mother." He sighed apologetically. "I am sorry, but it would have been unfair for Ghost to be chained, he was angry because of me."

"What do you mean?"

"He felt my anger through our bond, it was me who was angry… not him."

Those words only made Alicent's concern grow.

"What were you angry at, my son?"

"Who." He corrected as Breakbones' smugly face appeared in his mind. "Who…"

(-)(-)(-)

That night, as he was laying in his bed, Jon contemplated what had happened to him and Ghost the night prior. Despite his rebirth outside of House Stark, Jon was still a warg, and a powerful one at that.

He didn't exactly know why… perhaps the blood of the First Men still present in the Hightower's bloodline was not as diluted as people had thought, perhaps the power of his Valyrian blood had awakened his dormant abilities, or perhaps, the Old Gods had simply granted him this gift, and he intended to us it to its full potential.

Today and last night's events had him reconsider the ways he could use warging and skinchanging inside the Red Keep. First of all, he couldn't use Ghost to do his bidding, no matter how strong their bond was, Viserys' warning this morning had made him realize that he couldn't risk his friend's freedom if he wanted to keep him close for the years to come. And Gods only knew how much he needed his friend by his side.

However, that did not mean that this ability of him was useless at the moment, far from it. In his previous life, Jon had not tried to reach his full potential as a skinchanger, mostly because he had been afraid and wary of this ability.

So he opted for a different approach, or rather, a different target.

There were rats everywhere in the Red Keep, those rodents were swarming among the secret passages of Maegor the Cruel, were no one could find them and killl them. Jon found one, caught it, brought it back to his chamber using only his will.

The rat was filthy, skinny and more importantly; obedient. It would do.

The Prince of House Targaryen, trained every night to perfect his control over the cohort of rodent that swarmed inside the walls of the castle. It was as exhilarating as it was terrifying, to be able to see through hundreds of eyes almost broke his poorly trained mind, but he persisted, he kept trying for weeks until he could obtain total control over the filthy little creatures that now answered to him.

The first thing he did once he had mastered them, was to explore each and every secret passage and tunnel inside the castle, it took him more weeks, and a lot more headaches, but at the end, his efforts paid off; he now knew the Red Keep as well as The Cruel once did.

His second challenge was… more devious. To become his own master of whispers.

For days, he sent his rodents through the tunnels to watch and listen to the different resident of the Red Keep, unfortunately his endeavors weren't exactly successful. He learned a thing or two about some ladies and some knights, but nothing of actual value.

So he went farther, perhaps too far, perhaps he should have known what was going to happen to him when he went down this path, yet he did not turn back.

A rat quietly found its way inside Rhaenyra's chamber at the hour of the Wolf, and the Princess had not been alone.

Indeed, despite her coming labour, she was naked as the day she was born, huddled in the strong and hairy arms of Harwin Strong. Breakbones was gently massaging his lover's heavy belly and full breasts, Rhaenyra looked lost in her own passion.

"I can't wait to see him," the captain of the City Watch confessed, "Our boy…"

"You're too impatient," the princess gently chastised him, "I'll be done with this miserable pregnancy in a week or two. Besides, how do you know it's a boy?"

Ser Harwin's laugh was thundering.

"With a belly as large as yours? Surely it is a boy. A large and Strong Targaryen boy, our perfect prince."

"Hush now, you are too loud."

Breakbones let out an exasperated sigh.

"Aye, that is my curse… To have the most perfect woman and child in the world and not being able to walk by their sides…"

Those words caused a glint of sadness to shine in Rhaenyra's purple eyes for less than a second.

"I am sorry Harwin, truly, but you know this can never be."

"A small price to pay to bed a goddess made flesh." Breakbones declared as he gently pressed his lover's nipples, making her moan. "The humble servant that I am only wishes to please you, my Queen. I want to give you as many sons as you can bare! I want to see our boys roam the skies and make us proud, they will be strong, stronger than Aegon the Conqueror!"

"Focus on this one before thinking about any other!" Rhaenyra laughed.

"But my Queen, I could never focus on anything else but you by now, and your beauty is to blame."

Rhaenyra laughed again and drowned in his embrace as he covered her skin with kisses. Both lovers couldn't possibly imagine that Jon was watching and listening through the eyes and ears of the rodent that had hid under a piece of furniture.

(-)(-)(-)

When Jon woke up… he found his feelings in turmoil. Rage, anger, frustration, sadness, despair, contempt and exasperation had taken over his mind. How could act like this? Talk so casually about siring bastards that would usurp the Throne under the eyes of all the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms? Did they really expect the highborn and the smallfolk to accept this mockery? Did they really think that their actions would not escalate to a bloody war that could devastate the Realm? And what about their children?! The ones that were going to be called bastards and usurpers their entire lives?! They were the real victims of their debauchery and carelessness! The real targets of those who would oppose their ascension to the Iron Throne!

The Dance of the Dragons, the conflict that killed the beasts that represented the power of House Targaryen and left the living, defenseless against the Others two hundred years later… happened because two individuals had chosen lust over duty !

Once again Maester Aemon's words resonated inside his skull:

"What is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms . . . or the memory of a brother's smile? Wind and words. Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy."

The words of the Old Maester managed to calm the young Prince as he was breathing heavily. Rhaenyra had needed love, comfort and an heir. Her husband couldn't have provided any of those things, and in her despair, he could understand why his sister did as she did. She just wanted love, as she had confessed to him that night in the nursery.

But Harwin… Harwin Strong repulsed Jon more than anything in this World!

That man had dishonored his princess, condemned his own child to the life of a royal bastard, spoke openly about having it usurp the Throne and still expected to produce more! As if Rhaenyra was a broodmare that he could use to pump more Strong boys with Targaryen blood!

This… Jon could not let it go, not with everything he knew.

Ser Harwin's debauchery, carelessness, stupidity and crime would not go unpunished, this Jon vowed.

(-)(-)(-)

The next day, during the meeting of the Small Council, an officer of the city watch came to inform the Hand of the King, Lord Lyonel Strong, that his son Harwin had been attacked by a pack of stray dogs while he was returning from a tavern with some of his drinking companions. Indeed, no less than seventeen dogs had rushed from all the corners of Flea Bottom and had jumped at Breakbones' face and crouch. Leaving him bleeding out, in the mud, without a nose nor a cock. By the time he was brought to the Grand Maester, he had already died.

Chapter 6 : 'Uncle Jonothor'

Chapter 7 : 'Princesses and Past Sins.'

Chapter 8 : 'Brothers'

Chapter 9 : 'Two sides of the Same Coin

Chapter 10 : 'The Sea Snake and The Queen Who Never Was.'

Chapter 11 : 'A Disgusting Duty'

are available on

https://www.patreon.com/MonsieurLAH

Hope you liked it ;)