Instant power, and those too righteous to seek it

Author's Note: Hi guys! Thank you for the support so far :)

This chapter ended up on 3500 words, so it is about 1k more than the other two, which is why it took me a bit longer to write than I had expected.

Also, Webnovel kinda sucks at letting an author look at the paragraph comments. I can't see some of them, which means I have to scroll through a chapter to manually find those who pop up. Pissed me off for a minute since I would at least like to be able to answer as many questions as possible.

I am still trying to create better dialogues, but it's a lot harder than I thought it would be.

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

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Winterfell, The North - Year 287

POV | Aegon Targaryen/Jon Snow

Swoosh! "Haaargh!"

Schwing! "Huargh!"

"Come on, Robb! A man hafs to make loud noifes when he fwings hifs weapon!" Aegon's Cheshire grin, with a few teeth missing, showed everyone except Robb that he was lying. No one deigned to mention it though, or that Aegon was lisping. The young Lord Robb looked quite cute after all. Also, seeing the serious and composed Jon lisping? That was a treat for the entire Keep. He might be a genius, but he was still just a human child.

He kept swinging his tree sword with all the might of a well-trained kid of 7 name days. His red curls were sticking to his forehead due to the strain, and this was despite the cold northern air. His blue eyes were shining with determination.

Seeing him stick to his training and doing everything he could to acquire his 'brother's' acknowledgement, made Aegon smile gently at his little cousin. He was a little shit, but quite cute as well.

Aegon had contemplated the original storyline quite a few times since his rebirth. Especially the story of the Starks. Considering the way, they ended up treating Jon Snow, he felt that they deserved some of the shit they were put through. Jon Snow. That was not him though. He was Aegon Targaryen. They were not the same. Never would be. Jon was a motherless child, with dangerous notions of honour stamped into his head by a moron with no idea of what true honour is.

Remembering his life until now and The Stark's absolutely moronic decision-making in the books and the show, he felt that they might have brought their misfortune upon themselves.

Aegon Targaryen had already lived the life of an orphan and whilst he might have died early, he still excelled in the areas that mattered to him. He had to.

Living as an orphan was all he knew anyway, and Lady Fish might be a frigid bitch, and Lord Stark, a moron, but they gave him the necessary resources for him to excel. Aegon was not an ungrateful wretch, but with the gratefulness he felt for the fact that he was at least raised with all the food and money he needed, was also the cold rage whenever his uncle talked about the honour of serving at The Wall, or the slight indifference he felt from his uncle whenever he was called a bastard.

He had lived the memories of two decades lived in the 21st century, and he knew manipulation when he saw it. Seeing his own uncle trying to manipulate him, into serving there, made him mad. Eddard using his fake bastardry to make him yearn for honour and 'making something of himself', made Aegon indifferent to his uncle.

Had he not been doing those things, Aegon would probably be calling him Father, to indicate a closer relationship. He could not get himself to do that now though. Sansa and Robb, on the other hand? They meant a lot to him. They were his cousins by blood, and they adored him as much as he adored them.

He did not want the same fate to befall them in his new reality. Jon Snow lost his brother. Jon Snow's sister was raped. Jon Snow's two younger brothers were killed. One by The Three Eyed Raven, and one by Ramsey Snow. Jon Snow's favourite sister was turned into No One. He was not fucking Jon Snow!

Aegon. He had to keep calling himself that. He did not want to be Jon Snow. He could not afford to. Not after he almost burned himself last year. He had started going with the flow, and allowing himself to use the name Jon Snow, even within his own mind. That allowed for a painful lesson. He was a dragon. Or as close as humanly possible. If he stopped believing that, then he would burn. Snow melts under fire after all.

Jon Snow was weak. Aegon Targaryen was strong. That is what he had to be. What he wanted to be and what he fucking would be.

He was glad for the reminder though. It was an important lesson because it taught him about magic. That is what his power was after all.

He picked up a heavy spear that was far bigger than himself and joined his little cousin. A thousand thrusts would do for now. And a thousand shouts as well. Aegon could not, in good conscience, let his cousin think less of him.

He grabbed the back of the spear with his right hand and put his left hand in the front with about one foot in between each hand. As he was ambidextrous, he could easily switch, but he favoured his right hand for aiming and pushing whereas his left hand was perfect to stabilize and increase the power of each of his thrusts. His left foot was in front so he could pivot his right one with more ease. His entire body was relaxed before each thrust.

His form was impeccable after one month. A thousand thrusts a day. He needed breaks in the beginning. Breaks and food, but his body adapted faster than he could have ever imagined. Robb and Aegon had been practicing with Ser Rodrick for 6 turns of the moon now, and Aegon had with the eagerness of a madman continued with his 1000 thrusts a day. It had taken him the better part of 8 hours a day the first week, because of the multiple breaks and meals he needed to sustain the training. But now, 180 days and 180,000 thrusts later? He could do it in an hour and a half.

He was starting to feel like a Shonen character, but he could not help himself. His body allowed for him to do crazy things by the normal man's standards. 10 for 1 and his healing would be wasted on him if he did not give it his all.

332 "Huya!"

333 "Let'fs go!"

"Jon" 'huff, huff, huff' "I fswear to the old godfs" 'huff, huff' "and the new" 'huff, huff' "my armfs are dying, urgh." Robb collapsed where he stood, he had been slashing at the straw dummy for almost 30 minutes by now.

337 "Well done, Robb!"

338 "You make!"

339 "Cregan fStark"

340 "Proud."

Robb's smile lit up the courtyard at the encouraging remark from his brother. Despite his numerous missing teeth. Being seven was tough for both of them. Especially the inability to produce the s sound without adding an f. It was absolutely terrible for Aegon's image as well in his humble opinion.

Aegon had done everything he could to make Robb idolize the Starks of old instead of Eddard. The Starks who buggered the Andals up their arses, and not the pale imitation of an eagle Eddard had become. It was working. It probably helped when he compared Cregan to Aemon The Dragonknight.

Cregan Stark and Theon "The Hungry Wolf" Stark, were two of the most badass motherfuckers to ever set foot on Planetos. Period. If Robb became just half the man that either of those two was, they would conquer Westeros without a freaking doubt.

'It would be so freaking cool to have a Cregan Stark as Hand of the King again. Just this time, he won't serve the realm in six days. He will serve for years by my side. A Real King, with a proper Hand and Westeros will prosper."

"Robb! Do not lay about in the dirt. Come inside for a bath, now!" Lady Fish' stern voice rung from the balcony that allowed her and Lord Stark to look at their training.

"Aye mother. See you later, Jon!" Robb answered promptly before he turned towards Aegon with a wink and scuttled off for a bath.

370 "Enjoy!"

As soon as Robb was out of range, he stopped making sounds, and continued his practice in silence whilst he contemplated his magical powers.

Intent was everything. Whether that was his inherent powers or the ones he acquired through his wish. Only 10 for 1 was passive. It was good that he learned his lesson before he turned 7 name days, 7 months, and 7 days. Else he would have fucked up his rituals from his third wish.

Whilst he loved the versatility of his first two wishes, the sheer possibilities he gained through his third wish were insane. Some of the rituals made him sick to the stomach, but the rest… The possibilities were frankly insane.

There were rituals that could have given him similar abilities as those he had now, but to increase his own talents in every aspect ever, would have required equally grotesque sacrifices. Just increasing his sword wielding talent to what it was now would require 7 times 7 living human sacrifices, not weapons talent either, it had to be specific. That was 49 living human beings killed in the most gruesome of ways.

Just to reach the pinnacle of talent for sword wielding. Madness. Just to reach the talent in the aspects he used for now, would have required the use of more than 600 sacrifices. He could go far for power, but he was not a bald snake man with no remorse. There was a line in the sand, and that shit was way over the line.

He knew that his name alone might cause death in the future, but there was a huge difference between people dying whilst fighting for those they serve or believe in and dying in a bloody ritual to increase a single man's martial powers. Even criminals did not deserve that.

The healing factor ritual? Defiling 7… He could not even finish the thought. The paedophile who developed the ritual deserved to burn for all eternity.

Super strength, speed, and endurance were also out of the question. Their sacrifices were in between the two others. Besides, the abilities they gave were not out of the question as long as he just trained enough.

His body, due to the magical enhancement, should be able to reach peak human abilities in all aspects at the same time. That might sound boring, but just imagine. Being able to lift 500 kg, or 1102 lbs, whilst reaching top speeds of 44.72km/h, or 27.33 miles per hour and being able to continue running for 560 km/350 miles. All of that in one body instead of 3 different ones. That was freaking insane.

He really wanted that kind of power. 'I would become a hybrid of Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson, Usain Bolt and Dean Karnazes. Madness. Absolute Madness. I was honestly underestimating how hard it is to fight with weapons in reality. Robb might have been hitting that straw dummy for 30 minutes, but he only hit it for about 100 times with a light tree sword. If I had Dean's stamina, Usain's speed, and The Mountain's strength, I would be a freaking War God.'

He, of course, was not even close. If he was a War God right now, he would at most be a pathetic little bitch like Ares. That little maggot had a way too cool name in comparison to what he actually accomplished.

He would reach that level though, and he had a much more benign ritual for when that happened. He did not want to continue wasting time training his physical abilities when he reached the peak, it would take a lot of time that he probably would not have, thus making his chosen ritual much more important.

Freeze physique. You would grow older, but your physique would stay as strong as when you locked it, except for a small decrease due to aging. Something his healing could probably help with. He was not sure though. Not that it mattered, considering those stats would be achievable in his thirties, maybe even his forties as well.

Though it was a good ritual with minimal sacrifices, it was not what he was going to use when he reached the best age in a month and a week. No, he would be doing 7 smaller rituals that each seemed unimpressive but could give decent dividends in the future.

He was a business major, indeed. Investing and waiting for the dividends to come was his go-to-strategy.

Skin-hardening, Hawk-Eye, Wolf-Vision, Bloodhound, Bat-Sonar, Goats Grace, and finally, Predator's Intimidation.

Small enhancements if done individually, but with Aegon's current talent, these improvements would increase his personal powers immensely and with his years of running errands and earning money, he was close to securing all the needed ingredients.

Though he would have to admit that it would have been impossible to achieve without the help of Freya, his wonderful feline companion, and his two ravens, Hugin and Munin. Heck, Skin-hardening, Bat-Sonar and Predator's Intimidation were only possible because they found half the material.

Bat's, turtles, and a freaking red back spider were not exactly animals he knew where to find right now. 'Fortunately, Hugin and Munin are clever little fucks, and Freya is smart enough to capture bats alive.'

999.

"Haaargh, 1000!"

'Huff, huff, huff." Aegon looked at the absolutely ruined dummy in front of him.

"Damn, I am fstarting to pack fsome fserious power in my tiny 4'7 frame."

A harsh but mirthful laugh sounded from behind him. Ser Rodrick was looking at him with pride.

"Aye, you can say that again, boy. You are going to be a right menace when you grow just a foot more. I can't even imagine what you would be like if you reached the height of your Fa- Uncle Brandon, The Wild Wolf. You would be even wilder with that determination of yours."

"Thank you, fSer Rodrick!" Aegon replied happily. He loved getting compared to his uncle. The cool, but reckless one. Especially when people thought that they were father and son. The panic in Lady Salmon's face was as delicious as baked salmon with salt and pepper.

"I will be even wilder though! I can't difappoint Freya by being weaker!"

"Raaaawr!" She roared in agreement. She was his badass little Bat Reaper alright.

"Hahaha, I see. Big words for a little guy, but if you continue to impress, then I can definitely see it happening." Rodrick answered with a crooked smile on his slightly weathered face.

"Come on then, scuttle of to your bath now. You can't stand here with the old people all day."

"Yes fSer!" Aegon saluted, to show his determination and agreement. Before he ran off with Freya hot on his heels and Hugin and Munin circling closer to their master.

He had to bath and concoct a plan to get his uncle to let him go on a hunt with a few of the guardsmen or something similar. He still needed two eyes from a wolf and the antlers from a stag killed by himself to finish up his material list. He only had a month, and two essential ingredients for two rituals to collect.

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Winterfell, The Great Hall - Two hours later

POV | Eddard Stark

If there was one thing Eddard Stark loved in his life, it was his family. That was the thought that hit him, as he looked upon them during their supper. Venison, bread, and eggs. A scrumptious meal. Well-cooked and seasoned despite the lacking resources of the North.

'Not that Jon would notice.' He thought with fond amusement at the speed he could scarf food down at. The boy ate as much as a grown adult, despite being only 7 name days. 'At least he has table manners.'

He was glad that his nephew/son could enjoy his meals at The High Table with the rest of the family today. Catelyn was lying in bed, with servants doing whatever they could to make her feel comfortable before their third child would enter the world.

Eddard did not really know what to think about his nephew. He loved him as Lyanna's son, but he hated that he saw so much of Rhaegar in him as well.

Meanwhile Robb was almost vibrating with happiness since his brother was joining them today. Even his youngest, Sansa, was in a good mood. She had even claimed Jon's lap as her chair for the evening. His wife probably, definitely, would not approve, but he honestly could not find it in himself to care right now.

The children were happy, and he was not going to be the one ruining that this eve.

He loved kids. He did not know that before he held his first born, Robb, in his arms, but he was glad that he did, especially considering that his family needed as many as possible with how few they were left.

He loved Jon, but Robb was his own, and whilst he would raise Jon well, they were not the same. Sansa as well. His beautiful little daughter. How he would do anything to see her as happy as she is now, for the rest of his life.

Though he knew that would be impossible. "Winter is coming." He muttered beneath his breath. He would do whatever he could to keep it at bay for now.

"Lord fStark, may I please ask for a favour?" Jon's voice broke his trance. He was talking a lot slower than usual to reduce his lisp.

'How I wish he would just call me father. A boy of 7 name days should not be so formal. That's his father's blood in him, alright.' He shook his head slightly, looked at Jon and answered:

"That depends, son. What do you want?"

"I would like to ask for permission to go hunting. I wifsh to test my skills with the bow Uncle Benjen gave me." Jon looked at him with large purple eyes. Rhaegar's eyes, but Lyanna's expression.

'Please, Ned.'

He shook his head again, mulled over the thought for a few moments before he looked at his son's eager expression and turned towards Jon and gave him a clear nod.

"Aye, it's about time for you to learn. I have time to come with you in a fortnight. You and Robb will have to practice extra hard with your bows for the time, else I will cancel it."

"YEFS! Thank you, father!" Robb yelled excitedly, before he promptly hit his cup and poured his honeyed milk all over his trousers. His face fell fast and he almost panicked until he heard the laughs of his siblings.

A sweet giggle escaped Sansa's lips and Jon guffawed loudly.

"Robb clumbsy!" She cheered.

"Indeed, cutie. You're so clever." Jon kissed the top of her head before he smirked at his cousin. "Top marks for the enthufsiasm, but we gotta work on that manly grace of yours."

Robb paled slightly at that last remark. 'Those two and their manly code.' Ned considered letting them continue, but then again. They were 7 name days, though Robb was turning 8 soon. No need to let them get too riled up.

"I think that is enough for now." They all turned towards him and by their facial expressions, they had almost forgotten his presence. 'Sigh. The pain of being old. I am only 29 name days, yet, what is this feeling?'

"Finish your food, and then you, Robb, should go get cleaned. Jon, you can hand over Sansa, and go play as well."

"Yes father." The young heir answered with the last remains of his dignity.

"Jon! No go."

"Hahaha, would it be fine for me to play a little more with Sansa, Lord Stark?" Jon asked politely as usual.

"Sure, and please come to my solar as soon as you finish."

"Thank you, and I will." He nodded once with a curios look on his face, before he left with Sansa clinging to his neck.

'Hmmm. I hope he takes it well. I can't even blame him if he doesn't, but what can I do. Catelyn will be impossible to handle otherwise, to the detriment of all of us.'

'Please, Ned.'

He shook his head slightly to stop that train of thoughts, before he looked out towards Jon and Sansa sitting in a comfortable chair, whilst he read out loud for her.

'Oh Brandon. Why could you not just have been a little less wild. Everything would have been different with you alive.'

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­­Winterfell, Lord Stark's Solar - An hour later

POV | Maester Luwin

As soon as he received the summons to the Lord's Solar with Lord Stark and the young Snow, he knew that something was wrong.

'Something is about to change, and I can't help but feel that it will be to the detriment of all of us. What is this feeling of dread?'

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Author's note: Yo, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Leaving you with a bit of a cliff, else I would have to reach 5k words to finish the chapter.

Next chapter will be packing much more action than this one, since quite a few things will be set into motion. That also means it will be a pretty long chapter, so you can probably expect it sometime tonight or tomorrow.

I will also start posting pictures of the companions, people, areas and weapons I feel are relevant in the next chapter. The picture of Aegon, I have in mind, is not really useful until he is at least a teen though, so that will have to wait.

Best regards!