Chapter 3

After a bath, washing away all the dirt—mine and the small dragons', also covered in ash and soot—it felt like a good cleansing for a new life, a fresh start.

Not as a bastard.

Not as a man destined to remain on this Wall forever.

But as a legitimate son, a Prince, and truly, the King of the Seven Kingdoms.

Looking at my reflection in the water, I see myself more clearly now that there's no more hair or beard—just a long face with short hair, about three centimeters on my head—and that hair is of a different color, a color I saw in that Goddess.

Platinum blonde.

The hair color of the Valyrians. My eyes, violet-purple, glowing like magic. My face was sculpted with the noble features of the Targaryens: high and prominent cheekbones, a sharp and firm chin, the very definition of incredible beauty. I was already handsome, but now? Even without the long hair, it's clear how much more beautiful I've become since returning to life. It's as if the God of Beauty had sculpted my face. Valyrians are known for their ethereal beauty.

I shake off these thoughts and return to the room. My senses, now even sharper—perhaps another benefit of receiving the heart of a dragon—make me aware of people standing at the door to my room.

Sansa and her traveling companions, Ser Davos, Melisandre, Edd, and Satin.

I look at the bed, where the little ones decided to sleep after eating, and Ghost lying beside it. The large wolf and the dragons got along quite well, despite the difference in species.

I walk to the door and open it. "You can come in," I say, then sit on the bed. The room is not large, so with everyone standing... it felt even smaller. "Sit with me, Sansa," I give a gentle smile to my sister, though technically she's my cousin, she's still my sister.

She looks at the dragons, then back at me. "Are you sure? They... won't mind me?" she asks, pointing to the sleepy little ones.

"It's fine, they listen to me. I'm like their father," I say with a confident smile and point to the spot beside me, away from the little ones.

She hesitates a bit as she walks but lets out a sigh of relief as she sits beside me. "So, now you can explain what's going on?" Ser Davos says.

"Yes, why do you call yourself a Targaryen, Jo—Maekar?" Edd asks.

"I say that because I am," I turn my eyes to Sansa. "I'm not Lord Stark's son, Sansa."

Sansa furrows her brows and speaks angrily, "You are his son. You are my brother, even if you're not legitimate. That's never made you any less of a Stark or less our father's son."

I shake my head and let out a sigh. "It's not what you think," I begin, but I'm cut off.

"You're the son of Rhaegar and Lady Lyanna?" Davos asks, with eyes full of realization, as if something that had always been in front of him finally clicked into place.

"Yes, they are my parents," I admit. "I'm their legitimate son."

"Then that rumor... it was true?" he asks.

"What rumor?" Sansa asks, confused, her blue eyes full of uncertainty. Then they brighten as she realizes. "Of course, it makes sense. My father was the most honorable man the world ever knew. He would never have had a mistress, especially not after he was married! He took his oaths far too seriously, even to the point of his death. So it's impossible he would have fathered a bastard."

"But then... that makes us cousins, not siblings," she says sadly. I reach out and flick her on the head.

"Ouch! That hurt! Why did you do that?!" she looks at me wide-eyed, holding her head.

"I did it because, regardless of who my parents are, you're still my sister, and that will never change," I say, with true sincerity in my voice.

A smile appears on her lips, but it's quickly replaced by a sad expression. "But that would make you Aunt Lyanna's son... the son of a rapist. I'm sorry," she says, taking my hand, trying to comfort me.

"There was a rumor that Lady Lyanna ran off with the Prince of her own will, that she wasn't kidnapped, but went because she wanted to, because she was in love with Prince Rhaegar," Ser Davos adds.

"Yes, you're right, Davos. My father and mother loved each other... and that's why my uncle hid me as a bastard. Because not only did my parents love each other, proving that the Rebellion was started over a lie, but also because they married, which would make me..." Sansa interrupts me.

"Would make you the crown prince, the heir to the Iron Throne," she says, shocked. "But... the prince already had a wife, so how?"

"He and Elia annulled their marriage, and there's a Septon as proof. The same Septon who performed my parents' marriage and recorded it, as well as my birth," I respond, clearing up all their doubts. "All the documents are safely kept with Lord Howland Reed and the other three."

"Other three?" Satin speaks for the first time.

"Yes, Arthur Dayne, Gerold Hightower, and Oswell Whent," I say with a smile.

- Sansa POV

After washing up and having some soup that the small man called Satin had brought, Sansa found herself leaving the room in a hurry, eager to see her brother and hear this story he had to tell.

It all begins with the name he wishes to be called—"Maekar"—and the surname "Targaryen." And then there are the dragons...

The dragons seem very attached to him, something that clearly shows he must have Targaryen blood in him. She had heard enough of the dragonrider stories from Tyrion to know that only those with Targaryen blood in Westeros could form such a bond with dragons.

A common mistake after reading about the Dance of the Dragons is to think that anyone with luck could become a dragonrider, due to the non-Targaryens who became dragonriders during the Dance.

But according to Tyrion, they only achieved that feat not by luck, but because they were dragonseeds, carrying Targaryen blood within them. Thus, people without that blood cannot become dragonriders.

Her brother's room was right next door, so when Sansa stepped out, she was already very close. She quickly saw she wasn't the only one seeking answers. Satin was there, along with Eddison Tollett, a woman, and an older man.

From the woman's characteristics, Sansa could guess that this was the Red Woman who followed Stannis Baratheon.

And the older man—she'd heard her brother call him Davos, whom she recognized as the Onion Knight, Hand of King Stannis.

It was that man who spoke to her first. "Lady Sansa." She gave a small curtsy and replied, "Ser Davos."

The man looked past her, likely at Brienne and Podrick, who had decided they wouldn't leave her side for now. "I take it you are Lady Brienne of Tarth, am I correct?" Ser Davos asked.

"Yes, I am Brienne, and this is my squire, Podrick Payne," she introduced Podrick as well.

"I didn't know you were here at the Wall. I thought you were with Stannis when... well, when everything happened," Sansa said.

"No, the King decided it was better for me to stay here instead of going with him to battle... but he still took his wife and daughter. I... have you seen her? Heard any news of the princess?" he asked, and Sansa could see the worry in the man's eyes.

"We haven't heard anything from there. I just fled as fast as I could and avoided stopping in any villages," she replied.

Before she could say more to the others, Jon... Maekar's door opened. "You can come in," he said.

And Sansa finally realized—her brother had grown a lot. He was nearly, or perhaps exactly, the height of Robert Baratheon. Her brother easily stood at 6'4" or almost 6'5". It was hard to believe he'd grown so much in the past few years.

"Bastards grow faster and stronger," the septa used to say. Perhaps that was it? Or maybe the hard life had made him grow taller, to better fight against it all?

He even looked more handsome now. His eyes, which had always been like two flames, now pulsed incredibly.

His body, though tall, showed a difference between him and others of his height, like Robert Baratheon. While Jon had muscles, his body was built more for strength and speed, making him leaner than someone like Robert, who was all raw muscle. This gave her brother a noble and charming air.

Hearing everything he said afterward was a shock for Sansa. Discovering they weren't truly siblings almost broke her heart and soul, if not for him reminding her that they were still siblings, regardless of who their parents were.

It even made her forget that there was a huge dragon outside and three smaller ones lying on the bed.

A King. Maekar was the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms.

When the others left the room at Maekar's command—which Sansa noticed he now had an air of authority about him, perhaps due to his time here at the Wall—Sansa finally spoke again. "This changes so much," she said.

"Yes," he agreed, "and I hope you can help me, Sansa. I want to take back Winterfell for our family again, save Rickon, and place him as Lord Stark."

Sansa looked at Jon—Maekar—she had to admit it would be hard not to think of him by his old name, but she and everyone else could see that name no longer suited him.

Her eyes widened as she looked into her brother's violet ones. "Rickon? You know where he is?"

"He's with Ramsay Snow," her brother said, making Sansa's stomach churn at the sound of that name. "A raven will arrive soon, bringing news of this."

"How do you know? Even before the raven arrives?" she asked.

"The gods have shown me some things. The Old Gods have plans for all the Starks, you included, Sansa. You have a path to follow as well," Maekar said.

Sansa furrowed her brow. "The Old Gods? Brother, what exactly did you see there... when you died?"

"I saw a lot, but nothing I should tell just yet," he extended his hand, revealing a white ring made from weirwood in it. "They want me to give this to you, but only wear it when you're lying in your room." Sansa took the beautiful ring, noticing the small carvings on it—direwolves.

"It's beautiful," she said, holding the ring. "But I don't understand... I was never a follower of the faith of the Old Gods. I know I've changed a lot now, and I'm much more interested in northern things and want to learn everything..., but the Seven are one of the few things that still connect me to my mother." Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of another family member who had been killed.

Her brother held her hand and said, "I know you can do it. The future of the North depends on them. You'll probably feel their presence after you wear the ring. Odin seems to want to make Rickon his champion or something like that; I didn't fully understand."

Sansa raised an eyebrow. "Odin?" she questioned.

"The Old Gods have names. I don't know all of them, but I know that Odin is the 'King' of the Old Gods. And it seems he's Bran the Builder's father-in-law. He said we'd understand this better after reading some books that are hidden in Winterfell, which will serve as a guide to this new knowledge. He wants the North to return to the fold and regain a stronger faith in them, so they can help the Northern people more," her brother said in one breath.

Sansa stared ahead, trying to process everything, when her eyes landed on two swords hanging on the wall, both made of Valyrian steel. One had a direwolf's head, and the other... was far more refined, slender but still long, a longsword with a large ruby set in its pommel, a black leather grip, and a guard shaped like rippling flames.

"Two Valyrian steel swords and three dragons? How many more surprises do you have?" she asked.

"That one with the wolf pommel is Longclaw, and the other is Dark Sister. I got Longclaw from Jeor Mormont, and Dark Sister... was a gift from Aemon Targaryen, the old maester at the Wall, brother to Aegon the Unlikely," he said.

"He gave me the sword and the eggs... I think he knew about me all this time. He told me Dark Sister had been given to him by Brynden Rivers, the Bloodraven, who brought it when he came to the Wall. He said Brynden told him he'd know to whom it should be given, and so he knew it was me," Maekar's voice softened as he spoke of his great-great-uncle.

"Incredible, Daenerys, and then you, the first to bring the dragons back to life," I said, filled with admiration.

"Well, I was the first, since Urrax hatched for me when I was a baby, and she wasn't even born yet... I sound a bit childish now, right?" he asked with a playful tone.

"Yes, just a little," Sansa laughed.

It felt good to be free, without thinking of everything that had happened in the past years, all because she was with her family, speaking freely and simply being herself.

"But where was he? If he hatched for you, that means it was the year you were born, 19 years ago? Or 20?" I asked.

"Yes, he hatched the same year I was born, 283. Sir Arthur took Urrax to a safe place where he could grow strong and free, where no one would find him," he answered.

"That was clever... I just think our father should have told us. We could have kept the secret, and then my mother would have treated you better. You wouldn't have had to come to this place. Maybe... maybe everyone would still be alive," Sansa was quickly pulled into a warm embrace by her brother, who helped clear her mind and calm her, preventing her from spiraling into thoughts of all the possibilities to change what had happened.

"Let's not dwell on that. It won't do us any good; it might even do more harm. I've struggled not to hate my uncle... but he's already dead. I won't get answers. I can only be thankful that he kept me safe and gave me amazing siblings who I love dearly," he said with a caring voice.

"You're right. You've changed a lot, Maekar. You're... much more mature, not the silly boy who threw a cake at me," she said playfully as she pulled away from her brother's embrace.

Her smile grew wider when he replied, "That wasn't me, it was Arya. I said I did it to protect her," he said fondly.

Sansa let out a small laugh. "See, that always made me jealous, how close the two of you were... I know it was my fault. If I hadn't been such an idiot with you, I wouldn't have missed out on so many great moments with you and the others," I said with guilt. "Do you forgive me for being such... a terrible person to you?"

"We were kids. I didn't hold any of that in my heart. I only remember the good times when we played together, and you made me be your prince or your knight, so you don't have to apologize for anything... but even so, I forgive you," her brother said with a gentle smile, then his voice turned to tease. "And... terrible? Since when does our Lady Sansa Stark use that kind of language?"

I playfully shoved him and laughed, "Well... I spent a lot of time with a brute from the South, and I picked up a few of his habits. And I'm not like this with others... I just feel freer now that I'm with my brother, without needing to be the perfect Lady."

Maekar patted my head, bringing back memories of him doing the same to Arya when she was sad. "You're safe now, Sansa. I will protect you, I promise," he said.

"No, we will protect each other, together, like a pack," I said, smiling at him.

"Yes, like a pack," her brother gave her a beautiful smile, the kind that could make any girl, even the coldest, fall for him.

But then he stood up, his expression turning more serious, and said:

"We're going to need to wait for the three little ones to be able to fly before we can retake Winterfell. I think it'll take at most two weeks, but we should start planning possible alliances," her brother said, his tone more focused now.

"Yes," she agreed. "I heard my uncle, Blackfish, has retaken Riverrun, and I think we can get his help. We should send someone to bring him here."

"Him and the Blackwoods," her brother said. Sansa raised an eyebrow, unsure about the Blackwoods part. "They'll fall when your uncle heads North. He can stop there and bring them with him. It wouldn't be good to let a house like the Blackwoods fall into Lannister's hands."

"How do you know... did the gods show you that too?" she asked.

"Yes, I've seen a few things that will happen in the South, not a lot or the whole future, just some things," he replied. "But I think we can leave that for tomorrow. Let's rest tonight, and tomorrow we'll gather with the others and make a decision about all of this, alright?"

"Alright!" Sansa agreed with her brother.