Chapter 3: The Boy Who Would Be King - Part 2

"Don't you dare"

The very face of evil giggled at my warning

"If you put it down, I will let you go" I promised, hand reaching for him "That will be the end of it, but if you-"

And then he bolted

"Adam, don't!" I leaped after the pre-schooler from hell as he fled my room, phone (my phone!) in hand. It was a fool's errand anyway, by the time I was out of bed he was made across the doorway, slammed his room's door shut, and locked it with a distinctive click

"You little jerk!"

"Language!" Mom called from downstairs, over the sound of Dove Cameron blaring through the speaker "Not in my house, you little shit!"

I snorted and leaned over the railing "He took my phone. Again. Also, do you hear yourself, hypocrite?"

"Your dumbass fault for leaving it where he can reach it. Again. And I am your mother, hypocrisy for your sake is my prerogative"

I rolled my eyes "Ooooh, big word"

She marched up the first few steps of the stairs and turned to look up at me, black hair tied into a bun, face scrunched up in mock annoyance, and blue eyes glaring at me.

"I swear to god boy" she growled up at me "I don't care if you're leaving today,I will kick-

"And violence too!" I swooned "Horrible! Horrible I say-"

I had to lean back to dodge the pink slipper, and ran back to my room, cackling all the way.

...

no no no no no no

...

I dropped to a knee "Are those tears I see?"

Adam's lower lip wobbled, and a hand quickly rose to furiously rub at his glistening eyes "No!"

"Buddy" I spoke gently "I'm only gonna begone for one semester. I'll be back before you even know I'm gone"

He shuddered once, twice, and then he started wailing. Behind him, Mom cursed and turned around, shoulders shaking.

My first year at University abroad was off to a great start.

I tugged him towards me and wrapped him in a bearhug, the top of his head resting comfortably underneath my chin

"Do you wanna know a secret?" I whispered. He didn't step back, but I could feel him nod against my chest "I hid all my candy under your bed"

He stiffened, and I continued "I can trust you to take care of it, right?"

Slowly, he nodded again.

I breathed for a moment

"You're going to eat all of it aren't you?"

He reared back and laughed "No!"

"Yes!" I snorted "Save me a little okay?"

He nodded, smiling. We both knew he wouldn't

I stood up and walked over to Mom, who still had her back turned to me "Well this is it! I'm off"

"Yeah, yeah" her voice cracked at the end "Get your ass going before you miss your flight! And don't forget to call"

"And forget your dulcet tones?"

"little shit"

I snorted, and my eyes were getting a little misty. Taking a breath to study myself, "I love you mom. Thanks for getting me to this point. It's only because of you that I got this far."

she whirled around, tears in her eyes and face twisted into incredulous disbelief "That was the corniest shit I've ever heard!"

And suddenly we were both laughing hysterically "I know! Oh my God, I think I threw up a little!"

Her hands wrapped around me, and I returned the hug, both of us still laughing our hearts out (and if there were tears mixed in there, well, neither of us said anything).

A car horn interrupted us, and I perked up, sliding on my backpack and grabbing my suitcase "That's my ride!"

She pushed me forward, smiling all the way "Go go go! before you say any more stupid shit!"

As I loaded my suitcase in the trunk and glanced back, Adam, sat on mom's shoulders and yelled so loud the whole neighborhood probably heard "Call me when you get there Eli!"

As the car started to slide out the driveway I called back and promised I would, just as loud.

...

no no no please no no no

...​

Then,

A plane. The world tilting on it's axis, fire and screaming and air rushing past my ears and-

...

No why I don't wanna die not fair not fair no no no I promised I promised no!

...​

I screamed in grief and rage and a thousand emotions I couldn't understand.

Hands reached for me, but I lurched back, falling on my back. I rolled on my belly, instinct pushing me to my feet, but not a moment later my stomach heaved, my vision blurred and I voided the contents of my stomach.

It was all snapping into horrifying clarity.

My name was Jon (Eli) and I had lost everything. This was no dream, no nightmare. This was my life(my new life) in a world I'd thought nothing more than a figment of a writer's imagination. A world where danger lurked at every turn and powerful people played with other's lives like a game. A Game of Thrones. And I (who I'd become) was a part of it. Why why why?

But I knew why

I. I died.

I would never see my family again.

I heaved again, then I collapsed onto my back once more and howled.

...​

After a short while later (a lifetime gone past), my senses returned. My eyes focused, and I became aware of the canopy of the Gods wood overhead from where I lay on my back in a puddle of my own sick, but for the life of me, I couldn't bring myself to move. Not until I heard the voices

"-dare you accuse me of hurting my charge!" Alaric?

"Who else but you!?" Papa (Ned Stark, not papa)

It took a herculean effort to raise my head and behold the scene laid out in front of me. Alaric was pressed up against the heart tree, an expression of unyielding fury on his face, matched only by the one on Ned Stark's face as he held him there, hand fisted in his cloak.

"Unlike you, my lord of Winterfell" Alaric's voice was pure poison "When I swear a vow, I strive to fulfill it to the very best of my ability!"

Ned snarled, other fist raising to strike

"No!" I screamed, my voice hoarse and ragged. Both men whirled to me in an instant, and suddenly Alaric was there, scooping me up in his hands, concern clear in his eyes

"Jon-"

Ned Stark's voice cut through my thoughts as he, too reached for me. I flinched, and he retreated as if he'd been burned. I wrapped my hands around Alaric's neck and turned my face to his chest

Oh god, this was all real, wasn't it?

I could feel the hysteria beginning to swallow me once more, as irreconcilable memories of two lives warred in my head. Alaric was the only positive anchor I had in this new life, more so even than Ned Stark, so I clung to him and refused to let go of anything.

Because if I let go I was alone, and in this world that might as well be a death sentence.

Suddenly the godswood was no longer a beautiful haven of nature, but a dark and twisted prison that seemed to suck the life out of me. I whispered

"Little one" Alaric murmured

"I don't wanna stay here" I croaked pitifully "I hate the Godswood"

"Come then" I couldn't describe how deliriously grateful I was when he just nodded "Perhaps a visit to the maester, then a bath to clean up."

"I can take him-" Ned Stark's voice sounded once more, and I whined again.

Not you. You stay right the hell way from me, you, and all the baggage you'll inevitably bring with you.

"There is no need, my lord" I dimly noted that while Alaric's voice was no longer hateful, the tone was still arctic "I shall take him myself"

And then we were moving, and the last I saw of Ned Stark over Alaric's shoulder was his face staring at me, twisted in guilt, grief, and apprehension.

...

The visit to the maester was a blur, my mind seeming to retreat as I was fed a sickly, foul-smelling syrup and told to stay in bed for the rest of the day. A bath later, and I was in my small bed in the nursery, mind whirling.

Tears prickled my eyes and my breaths became erratic

My life was gone. My life, was all of its hardships, the bad parts and the good, was just gone. Over (why me?)

Was I even Eli anymore? Or am I Jon. Jon Snow

What was I going to do?

Jon Snow, bastard of Winterfell and one of the last remaining scions of the greatest dynasty this whole fucking continent had ever seen. Half of the major players I knew of would use me if they knew who I was, and the others would have me murdered. and to top it off, I was under the protection of a guilt-driven, fatally honorable mess of a man who, for all his promises of protection would sooner see me shipped off to a den of rapists, murderers, and thieves than see me within a foot of any position of power, let alone the throne that I had a rightful claim to.

I paused.

Did I want it?

I had to suppress the urge to scream. I was supposed to be at Uni, making friends and planning out my life, not in a body not my own and in a world where one misstep means death.

Death. The White Walkers and the end of the world of men.

I couldn't stop myself from hyperventilating at the realisation that I would almost certainly die (again) regardless of whether or not I did anything.

The White Walkers were coming, and they didn't play political games. they didn't negotiate. They would butcher every last living being in the world and plunge it into eternal darkness, or so the stories say If they weren't stopped. And Jon Snow was one of the very few contenders who might be able to save the world (my world now).

Why me?!

I couldn't do this. Where would I even begin? I had no allies, no knowledge. For fuck's sake, I didn't even know if I was the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, god knows the author never explicitly stated it!

I laughed hysterically, the noise bouncing off the walls. Nearby, I could hear shifting in the bed beside me. My brother? Cousin?

I only had one brother, and I was never going to see him again.

If only I'd died after finding out for sure, I might have a fucking chance! Instead, I had the memories of an 18-year-old who hadn't even made it past high school in terms of education, had no experience that could prepare for this, and-

Wait

The laughter ceased, and hope bloomed

Memories

A thousand eyes and one. All the memories of the world of man. The only person who might know who I really am (who might know what I had to do)

"Bloodraven"

...

Miles and miles to the north, past the Wall of the Builder, there lay a great Weirwood, the likes of which very few existed south.

Deep beneath it, ancient roots shuddered.

Two red eyes snapped open

...​

A/N: Crap baskets I forgot the Author's note!

Welp, anyway, that noise was cannon dying a horrible death!

Again, I promise we won't be overusing tropes here, my dear readers.

Leave your comments and opinions, love to have them. If you don't like it, please be courteous.

Next Chapter: The Boy Who Would Be King - Part 3