The Life of Jon Snow pt2

Dragonstone, AOT World

The atmosphere in the room is a heavy one and steadily increasing cold temperatures aren't helping matters. From her position Jennifer can see Doctor Hamilton beginning to be affected by it, and so she decides that it would be best to step in.

"Aemon, it's getting too cold in here." she tells him, causing Aemon to turn around, his cold blue eye surveying her and the room.

Spotting Doctor Hamilton beginning to shiver, he nods towards before taking a deep breath. As his eye changes from icy blue to purple, the cold vanishes from the room as if it were never there and a warmth replaces it as quickly.

"Apologies, my rage affects my magic still and this topic is an enraging one." Aemon says.

"Oh no worries, although that does make me wonder. Is your magic biological or spiritual?" Doctor Hamilton asks.

Aemon raises an eyebrow at the doctor but neglects to answer him and Jennifer wonders whether he doesn't answer because he doesn't know or because he doest trust them with that information.

From what she knows and has observed of Aemon, he is not the type to admit ignorance; at least not when it comes to a matter such as this.

"Tell us about your family?" Jennifer asks, intending to draw Aemon's attention away from the topic.

"Which one?" Aemon replies as he walks back towards the Painted Table, and internally Jennifer once again marvels at his graceful and regal bearing. She does not think that such a bearing can be trained, at least not to such an extent.

"The Starks. You said that their dynasty lasted 8000 years, they must have been great." Jennifer replies.

"Aye many of them were great men." Aemon says. "But our founder, Brandon the Builder, is perhaps the greatest Stark to have ever lived. He was a legendary figure who lived during the Age of Heroes, a time of magic and myths and legends. He is said to have raised many of the greatest buildings in Westeros, such as Winterfell, Storm's End, and the Hightower. The only reason I do not name him the greatest Stark is because I believe his legend to be encapsulating two or three Starks, all named Brandon."

"Why do you think that?" asks Doctor Hamilton.

"To have built The Wall, Winterfell, Storm's End and the Hightower would require several lifetimes." Aemon replies.

"You say that like you know for a fact that he built all those places." Jennifer comments.

"Because I do know. Whether he built the Wall or Winterfell is an undisputed fact. As for Storm's End and the Hightower? Well, they make my blood sing in a way only Winterfell and the Wall do. The magic infused within those stones calls out to my blood in a way that only Winterfell, the Wall and Dragonstone do." Aemon explains before abruptly looking towards the room's doorway as Simon returns.

"I hope that the breath of fresh air was invigorating, for I mean to finish this tale." Aemon says as Simon returns to his seat and chugs down a cup full of rum.

"Yea, I'm better." replies Simon as he emotionally glances at Aemon.

Jennifer knows that look, it's the same look others give her when they hear of the failed missions that led to her most impressive feats.

"Do not pity me." Aemon tells him upon noticing his glance. "I have survived and become stronger where many others fell into despair and took their own lives."

"Well you shouldn't have had to. You were just a kid." Simon responds.

"Perhaps, but the world of Westeros is a harsh and treacherous world and such was my fate." Aemon replies with a shrug.

"It's not right." Simon insists.

"Perhaps not." agrees Aemon before adding, "But the ink is dry."

Despite not being satisfied with Aemon's view on his suffering, Simon chooses to keep silent.

"Now, where was I?" asks Aemon.

"Your debut." says Doctor Hamilton.

"Aye, my debut." Aemon says. "For four years I bid my time and fulfilled my duty, for four years I watched and learned. I learned their customs, their beliefs, their politics, their strengths and weaknesses, and I planned. At first it was difficult for not one of these so-called 'Great Masters' saw me as anything but property, and property has no opinions nor thoughts. But eventually I earned the adoration of their noblewomen, and that was the beginning of their downfall. By my third year they loved me such that I could easily incite feuds between houses. A meaningless sentence here, a throwaway comment there, a harmless observation, or a mere whisper post-coitus and I could have what had once been allies for decades turn to the most bitter political enemies." Aemon tells them with a wicked gleam in his violet eyes that sends a shiver down Jennifer's spine.

"By my fourth year I had all the information required to put my hypothetical plan into action, and that's exactly what I did. On the anniversary of my fourth year as a slave a slave revolt swept through Meereen that extinguished House Pahl and reduced the numbers of the 'Great Masters' by twenty percent. Many slaves perished in the revolt but many more escaped, me included." Aemon says.

"With my newfound freedom, I and a group of one hundred former slaves commandeered a ship and waged a war on pirates and slavers."

"Why didn't you go back home?" asks Anakin, causing Aemon to look at him.

For a few seconds Aemon quietly regards Anakin as his mouth slowly opens and close, as if an answer were on his lips but he can't bring himself to say it.

"To be honest I was filled with too much rage." Aemon finally says with a sigh. "Rage at my uncle, who I still thought to be my father, for allowing his wife to treat me with disdain, rage at Catelyn Tully for her unwarranted disdain and paranoia, rage at Robb for being such a fool to listen to Greyjoy of all people, and most importantly rage at Theon Greyjoy. I knew that if I ever saw the fucker again I would remove his head from his shoulders." Aemon says as the temperature in the room briefly drops before returning to normal.

"So for two years I stayed away, waging war on pirates and slavers, recruiting other former slaves to my cause, and even conquering the Stepstones to serve as a base of operation. Had I continued on this course I am sure that the Free Cities of Myr, Lys, and Tyrosh would have reconvened their alliance to form the Triarchy anew in order to route us from the Stepstones; they are too valuable to allow a hostile force to occupy them. Things did not reach such a stage however, for I felt myself called home, to the North. I had of course attempted to ignore such a calling, but everytime the thought would enter my mind a sense of doom would envelop my being."

"And so I journeyed North upon where I found a female direwolf killed by a stag, leaving her six newborn pups to fend for themselves." Aemon says and Jennifer doesn't know why, but the imagery invokes a sense of foreboding within her.

"I thought nothing of it at the time and merely took the pups with me to Winterfell, four males and two females, enough for all the children of House Stark; the lone bastard included."

"It was until my return to Winterfell that I learned that the King was making his way North after the previous Hand, or second in command, died. The very same King whose sigil is a stag while House Stark's is the direwolf." Aemon explains and Jennifer's sense of foreboding increases.

She can see it already, the King would discover Aemon's identity somehow and his uncle would be executed.

"Once I delivered the pups to my brothers and sisters I left Winterfell once more for I had no intention of staying for the King's visit and everytime Catelyn Tully would glare at me I would get the urge to gouge those eyes of hers from their socket."

"So, I made my way up North to the Wall and the Night's Watch in order to visit my uncle Benjen who had sworn himself to the order. It was there that I would stumble upon the coming threat, the Others. A race of magical beings who hold power over winter and death. Most of Westeros, those of the South thought them to be nothing but myths and legends to scare children into behaving; while those of the North thought them to be a long defeated threat never to return."

"They were wrong, they were all wrong. The Others were very much real and the only reason they were stopped eight thousand years ago is due to a pact made between them and House Stark who served as humanity's representatives at the time. A pact that was broken, prompting them to continue their war against humanity. I never learned what the pact was and still to this day I know not what it entailed other than some clause that a Stark King of Winter must always rule Winterfell. Of course with the passage of time even that clause became misunderstood into the belief that 'there must always be a Stark in Winterfell'."

"They remind me of the legends about the Wild Hunt." Simon says, and Jennifer is inclined to agree.

"It is a valid comparison all things considered, for they could easily pass off as with none but those in the know wiser." Aemon replies. "Of course at the time I was none the wiser and as such did not think to negotiate a new pact with them, and by the time I had such a thought what was meant to be a peaceful meeting between them and humanity was sabotaged a madman with an obsession for the foulest of magics; causing the Others to declare a blood feud between them and all of humanity. They would not rest until all continents were devoid of human life. And what could we do other than delay the inevitable. Some of the greatest military minds in Westerosi history, a cult of sorcerors who serve the Red God, and three fucking dragons and all we could do was delay the Other's victory for two years. Of course the madman with a god complex to orchestrate such an apocalypse was a fucking Greyjoy." Aemon swears.

"Mark my words, nothing good ever came from House Greyjoy's existence." Aemon adds before turning his attention to his drink.

For a few minutes, they remain there in silence, watching Aemon drink the memories away.

Jennifer can understand why he wouldn't tell them any of this unless asked. There are no good moments in his life other than the first nine years, and even then it was affected by his step-mother's cold attitude towards him.

"Is that it?" asks Anakin, his demeanor much calmer than before and his voice somber. "Did you spend the rest of your life just fighting a war against the Others?"

"No, before that I spent three years helping Robb wage war against House Lannister for the murder of my uncle." Aemon replies with an icy glare.

"But you don't want to talk about that." observes Jennifer.

"No, for that war brought more pain to me and mine than the war against the Others. And the suffering of my brothers and sisters are not tales that I wish to recount, at least not for the time being." Aemon replies and Jennifer senses that his statement is as much of an end to his tale as it is a dismissal of any questions pertaining to his war against House Lannister.

"Understandable." says Doctor Hamilton. "Although I do wonder, do all people in Westeros look as stunning as you? Are they as physically powerful as you? Can all of them do magic like you?" rambles the doctor, causing a laugh to erupt from Aemon and shocking them all.

This is the second time they've heard him laugh this night and in all the times they've known him, but it cannot be more different from the first. The first was full of scorn and mockery, and despite sounding beautiful it was grating on the ears, like the sound of ice cracking. This one sounds just as, if not more, beautiful but it fills Jennifer with a sense of calm and content, like a fresh spring breeze.

"You are a curious one my friend." Aemon says as his laughter dies. "But to answer your questions in order: no, not all Westerosi are as stunning as I. In fact, even by the standards of my father's house, House Targaryen who are famously known to constantly produce the most beautiful of people, I am an anomaly. No, not all Westerosi are as physically as powerful as me, in that too I am an anomaly. And as for magic, while there are some who can perform it, I am the most powerful."

"I see." comments Doctor Hamilton as he pulls a small notepad and pencil from his coat pocket. "What makes you so different?" the doctor asks while adjusting his glasses.

"I am an offspring of the two most powerful bloodlines in Westeros' history. House has historically integrated every, or at the very least most, magical bloodline in the North into their own through marriage and House Targaryen are the only house of dragonlords left." Aemon explains before turning to Anakin.

"Speaking of power, what was that power from which you drew upon earlier? It reeked of the most fel magic." Aemon asks.

"That was the force." replies Anakin with a frown.

"It could not be, not from your previous explanations of the force. This felt quite the opposite of it, foul, corruptive, full of rage and hate. It reminded me of the magic of the shadowbinders of Asshai, a sect of magic users who practiced the most fel of sorcery." Aemon says.

"Did his eyes turn yellow, or orange?" asks Simon with apprehension.

"Aye." replies Aemon

"Oh God." says Simon as he nervously passes his hand through his hair.

"What's wrong Simon?" asks Jennifer with a frown.

"That's the Dark Side of the force. It's just like Aemon described it, foul, corruptive, and feeds on negative emotions like rage and hate. It's the power of the Sith. I was worried this would happen, but not this soon…" rambles Simon before his words become intelligible to Jennifer.

"Simon!" calls out Aemon, breaking Simon from his stupor. "Explain."

"Right, so remember how I said that in my world there are movies about Anakin's life?" asks Simon, receiving nods from the group. "Right, well it's not all good. At some point he's manipulated by the Sith and becomes evil. He basically destroys the Jedi Order."

"Impossible!" screams Anakin as he violently stands up and makes Simon flinch.

"Anakin, sit." Jennifer commands, causing the young man to turn to her with a glare. "Sit down and listen to Simon, and maybe we can stop it from happening."

Reluctantly Anakin obeys, allowing Simon to continue his explanation.

The tale he tells has Jennifer as emotional as Aemon's tale, and from the other's expressions she can see that she is not the only one. Eventually Simon finishes speaking and the Painted Chamber is plunged into silence as they process his words.

Eventually, Aemon is the first to speak. "How shortsighted." he says.

"The Jedi Order tied themselves so tightly to the Republic without an ounce of understanding of politics and had the audacity to claim to be righteous." explains Aemon.

"The Jedi Order IS righteous. We defend the peace and the people of the Republic." argues Anakin.

"Impossible." refutes Aemon without hesitating. "How can you defend the people of this so-called Republic and the peace when the only way to maintain said peace is to trample upon those very same people."

"The Republic is what keeps the criminals like the Hutts in line." Anakin replies, his argument sounding hollow to them all.

"You yourself do not believe." Aemon says gently.

"Fine, if not the republic then what? The Empire? It sounds way worse than the Republic." Anakin asks.

"Not the Republic and certainly not The Empire. Personally I believe that a single governing body is inadequate to govern an entire galaxy, whether they be a Republic or an Empire." Aemon answers.

"Guys, we have someone else from a space civilization. Let's just ask her." interrupts Simon, causing them all to turn to her. "What do you think Jennifer?" he asks, causing her to sigh.

"I think we have a more important problem than how the galaxy should be ruled. We need to get Anakin to understand his emotions and accept them." she tells Simon before turning to Anakin "You need to learn how to let go." Jennifer says.

Anakin's face upon hearing her words makes her realize that this will be easier said than done. Jennifer reaches for her cask of rum only to find it empty. Sometime during Aemon's tale she had finished it, how wonderful.

Author's Note: Tell me what you guys think of the chapter and let me know if you have any thoughts overall. I also have a patreon if you'd like to support at: patreon.com/servantambrosius