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A Prince of House Targaryen

At the end of Robert's Rebellion, Rhaegar comes out victorious. A secret son hidden as a bastard sees himself as more than that; he goes out to make himself known to The World.

Drinnor · Book&Literature
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65 Chs

A Song for The Past

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Jon Snow

The bastard boy woke up, feeling a small weight moving around his chest; Jon simply thought he was still dreaming when he felt something wet on his face; forcing himself to open his eyes, he was met with the red eyes of Ghost, who was patiently waiting for him to wake up, his tail whirling around without stopping, his tongue sticking out.

"Good Morning, Ghost," Jon greeted him before patting his little head; looking around, he left out a tired yawn before pushing himself up into a sitting position; seeing his owner was awake, Ghost jumped from his chest to the stone floor of the castle.

Jon moved his legs over the edge of his bed; before standing up and wearing his clothes, he left the room. Decided it was time for everyone else to see Ghost.

The Direwolf followed behind quietly, not making a single sound, as he walked towards the main hall of Winterfell to break his fast with his family like usual; Jon noticed the way the guards glanced at the small Direwolf walking beside him, most of them probably thinking that it was a dog. Still, Jon highly doubted anyone would think that Ghost was a Direwolf at first glance. Hell, he doubted even Arya might be able to tell that the little pup was a direwolf.

Finally entering the hall, his eyes wandered around, noticing Lady Maege was already in the hall, talking with Lady Dacey.

"Good Morning, my lady," Jon greeted her respectfully; the lady in question smiled warmly at him in a much warmer way than the night before.

"Good morning, Jon. I hope we have-" she stopped before gasping, seeing the small creature around Jon's legs.

"Is that a-" Maege tried to ask before standing up; the commotion grabbed the attention of everyone present, especially Arya, who was quick to jolt on her feet, making her way over to Jon, almost running.

"This is Ghost, my lady, my Direwolf companion" this earned gasps from everyone, except Lord Stark, who knew of it beforehand. Even the stoic Lady Stark couldn't hide she was surprised by the presence of a creature like direwolves in Winterfell.

Arya squeaked before trying to grab him in her arms, but Catelyn was quick to stand up, a frown on her face looking at her careless daughter; sometimes, Arya could get very handful; she couldn't just grab a dangerous animal like a direwolf like that.

"Arya, come here, guards kill that filthy creature," Catelyn screeched at both Arya and Ghost, who growled at the woman; despite being a puppy, he didn't like the tone the woman was using.

The guards looked at each other; the northern guards didn't move since they didn't get orders from their Lord. A southern guard immediately moved towards Jon, his hand on the hilt of his sword. The bastard boy was ready to defend the Direwolf with his life if necessary.

"Stand Down," the booming voice of his father silenced everyone in the hall; Arya was standing in front of Ghost now, trying to protect him from the bad guard, who growled slightly under his breath.

Catelyn turned her head at Ned, ready to shout that the wolf needed to be sent away or killed, but a single glare from him silenced her; Catelyn gulped at the way her lord husband was looking at her before slowly sitting back on her wooden chair, her fingers tightened around her the wooden arms, her knuckles turning white.

Ned turned to look at the guard who obeyed Catelyn's order instead of waiting for him.

"You will take your bags today and leave Winterfell; as long as I'm lord of this castle, you take orders from me unless I say otherwise. Now leave before I take your head," Ned ordered with authority on his face, making every other soldier immediately straighten up.

The soldier in question simply bowed his head before leaving, followed closely by two Northern soldiers, making sure he did what he was ordered to.

Catelyn felt her teeth almost shattering, her nails making lines on her wooden chair, as she glared furiously at the bastard boy and the creature who was in Arya's arms now.

She wanted to tell Ned to reconsider his decision but knew with the many northern lords around Winterfell, he couldn't do that without being seen as weak, but she hated that he lost Ser Anwell; he had obeyed every order she gave him; he had come with her in Winterfell when she married Ned, her father ordering him to protect Catelyn, a Tully through and through.

After the whole situation was clear and the tense feeling around the hall eased a bit, everyone's attention turned back to the Direwolf puppy who was snuggling against Arya's hand.

"Jon, where did you find him? Can I keep him? What's His Name?" Arya repeatedly asked, holding the Direwolf closer to her.

Jon chuckled at her reaction; he knew she would react that way; it didn't take long for Robb and Sansa to come over to see the Direwolf; Theon just sent the Direwolf a glance before murmuring something under his breath as he walked away to sit in a different table.

"His name is Ghost, and I found him outside, near the entrance of the crypts," Jon answered; as he took Ghost in his hands, the Direwolf seemed relieved to be in the hands of his owner again.

"He was alone?" Sansa asked, looking at the Direwolf before looking up at her half-brother, who shrugged his shoulders. Usually, she would get scared, she didn't like dogs, she thought they were full of dirt, even her mother told her that a Lady should always be clean, but seeing the Direwolf in Jon's arms somehow made her like him, despite knowing that would most likely grow up to be almost the size of a horse.

"I Don't know; I looked around but couldn't see anyone, no mama direwolf nearby and no other pups," Jon said, earning a pout from Arya, who wanted to have her own Direwolf.

After they sat at the high table, Jon ordered some raw meat for Ghost; no one had any objections; the Stark children still kept glancing at Ghost every now and then.

"Don't worry, little sister, you will soon have your own Direwolf," Jon said, rubbing her hair, much to her annoyance.

Arya moved her head away before returning back to her breakfast; Jon was eating and giving Ghost a piece of meat or bread every now and then.

Ned Stark - After Three Days

Ned was busy thinking of the activities today; tomorrow morning, the lords would start returning to their homes; Lady Maege had come to him yesterday, asking if she could show his boys how to ride a horse; House Mormont was known to be good at riding horses, Ned found nothing wrong with it, hell Robb could benefit from it, he still wasn't that good at riding horses.

Ned didn't know whenever Robb was too scared or just the horses not liking him; the lord of Winterfell didn't know but hoped Robb would get better soon.

Ned, of course, accepted Lady Maege's offer but couldn't help but have a feeling that he was missing something; Ned didn't know what it was. He hated these little games; he was sure there was something hidden right in front of him, and yet he couldn't see it.

As Ned was thinking about the activities of today, he didn't notice the looks Jon was getting, or more specifically, Ghost was getting, something Catelyn noticed since she was paying attention to everything, she wanted to see how the lords would react to something like this. It had been three days, and people were already talking about Jon and his Direwolf.

Just as Catelyn feared, the lords were looking at Jon with a hint of admiration, seeing a bastard with a Direwolf, the sigil of House Stark.

Catelyn felt her anxiety rising; the bastard was doing everything he could to make the northern lords pay attention to him instead of her Trueborn son.

Catelyn gazed at the bastard before looking at her son; it was in plain sight.

Catelyn remembered when Robb was born; she had been delighted to see he had taken after her, blue eyes just like her, and she had been even happier to see his auburn hair grow in his seven months; he looked like a southern through and through, that way would be much easier to get a Southern bride, maybe even a Princess; why not, Robb deserved a Princess.

But looking at the bastard now, and looking at the way lords were looking at her perfect Trueborn son, she knew what they all saw; they didn't see a northern; no, they saw a Southern, something these lords seemed to be too fixated on.

Soon, Ned returned to his solar, his mind reminding him that Lady Maege had asked for a Horse Ride; Ned had decided to have that ride just before lunch; right now, he had a meeting with Lord Wyman Manderly.

Ned knew why he was having this meeting, he knew Robb was only seven name days, but he knew sooner or later he would need to find a girl for his son.

Lord Wyman was a good man and rich house; The North was lucky to have that house in control of White Harbor; he had two daughters; one could marry Robb and strengthen the North.

Ned knew he had already displeased the lords of the North by marrying a southern, and on top of that, he allowed a sept to be built in the heart of Winterfell; he didn't need to ask to know what The North thought of it. If it were up to them, he should burn it to the ground, but it was his wife's gods, and he couldn't force her to follow the old gods.

The door suddenly cracked open, revealing a guard that usually guarded the door of his solar. "My lord, Lord Wyman is here," the guard announced.

"Let him in," Ned ordered, the door open fully revealing a man around his thirties, his belly bigger than Ned had ever seen before, small beard around his jawline, dressed in a green coat, the mermaid sigil of his house stitched on his chest, the man walked inside with a grateful smile on his face, his breath smelling of roasted meat and northern beer.

Ned gestured for him to sit down as he finished the letter he was writing before looking up at him, putting the letter aside, and paying attention to him.

"What brought you here, my lord?" Ned asked before filling a mug with beer. Knowing this discussion could take time.

My lord, I'm here to propose a way to strengthen our friendship even further," the man spoke, earning only a nod from Ned before continuing.

Jon Snow

Flying higher and higher, he could see the trees below him; he was higher than every tree in Winterfell, higher than the tallest tower in Winterfell; he could see everything from where he was, the large landscape in front of him, the castle didn't seem big anymore, he could see everything, the endless trees of the forest, the river flowing through the forest.

He could see the servants, the soldiers; he could see his sister listening to something Lady Dacey was explaining to her, Robb, who was sitting with Theon on a staircase, looking down on the courtyard.

He could see the sun shining high in the sky, but Jon wanted to see further; his eyes looked north, north, and only north, Jon could see the wall.

So large that it seemed it would never end, standing so tall and large that it seemed it could touch the sky itself, Jon looked to his right, wanting to see how far the wall went, but instead, he flew above the wall, flying further north, north and only north.

Jon could feel the cold as he flew beyond the wall of ice, the large frozen landscape; he could see nothing but snow down there; it felt cold, his wings suddenly shaking, as he felt his bones freezing, the cold, harsh winds of winter slamming against him like a hammer, he couldn't see anything. Still, Jon kept flying further and further north.

His breath stuck in his throat; his eyes were frozen, he couldn't look away, he couldn't fly anymore, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't run away, a sea of corpses below him, bones everywhere, bright blue eyes looking at him. A chill went through his body. A sea of dead dreamers below, their heads on ice spikes from falling down, they couldn't fly, and neither could Jon.

The boy was falling towards the ice spikes; he could feel himself coming closer to his death; he would die; he couldn't fly yet. Jon spread his wings in hopes of flying, but he couldn't fly; he had no wings, and he was no Dragon.

Be Fire, Be a Dragon

I'm no Dragon

Then Die

Jon closed his eyes, spreading his wings to fly, getting closer, closer; he was falling, he couldn't fly, he was no dragon, he was no Fire.

Dracarys

Jon gasped, opening his eyes and looking around. He saw he was back in God's wood, his bare hand still touching the weirwood tree, slowly pulling it away, hearing a chirping sound; looking up, he saw a crow looking at him before flying away.

Jon looked as the bird flew away, he had hoped to warg the crow, and he knew he had done it; he had warg the crow; what was that dream? He thought he had never before dreamed when he was warging any animal.

Jon felt Ghost and Kessa nearby, standing up on his feet; Jon brushed off the snow sticking to his clothes.

Leaving the God's Wood, Jon made his way over to his father; Ser Rodrik would teach them more about riding horses today; Robb was standing close to his father, whose attention was on Lady Dacey and Lady Maege, Arya was pleading to ride a horse with Jon, but Ned kept telling her that she was too young.

After her daughter was taken away by Catelyn, Ned turned his attention to his guests in front of him, mainly the old bear; Ned himself wanted to know how well his sons would ride horses, it had been almost a year since he had seen Robb ride a horse, but the way the old bear was looking forward to it made him feel a bit uneasy, especially the way she has been asking questions about Jon.

"Quite a good lad, your bastard son," Lady Maege suddenly said beside him; Ned was ordering his men to prepare the horses for the boys, polishing the boots, cleaning the horses' feet, making sure their saddles were steady and that everything would go well.

Ned did not react the way she called Jon; he had heard people call him that for seven years now, and the lord of Winterfell was used to it by now.

"Indeed, he is. He's good with a sword; Maester Luwin suggests giving him extra classes since he's that good at studying," Ned commented with a small smile, proud of his son, but he couldn't quite show it now, not in front of others like Lady Maege.

"Did he now!" Maege said, not bothering to hide her surprised face, especially so far everything was nailing just as she expected, but a small part of her hoped she was wrong. After all, Lyanna was Jon's aunt; it wouldn't be unusual for him to take after a bit, look at Arya, for example. Only two name days, and she was already showing signs of being just like Lyanna. A true wild wolf of the North.

But Arya's eyes were Ned's eyes, and not mentioning she was born five years after the death of Lyanna, Jon's birth, on the other hand, was shrouded in a mist of mystery. Ned never talked about his mother; that much everyone in The North knew; at the time, Lady Maege had thought that Ned was either too ashamed of himself or just was too painful to talk, thinking that the secret woman had died during childbirth, a usual thing to happen; but now, Maege Mormont wasn't sure anymore.

The way the bastard boy acted with animals, especially the Direwolf, reminded her of Lyanna, she loved animals, and Maege had her doubts that she could have been a Warg as well; sadly, that was never confirmed.

Maege couldn't shrug off the feeling she got when she looked at Jon's eyes that night, almost looking at Lyanna, especially his curly hair, just like her, except for his face, the way his face was; Maege chuckled slightly; Jon was too handsome to be Ned's son. While still a kid, she knew he would grow up to be a good-looking man. But that was what bothered Maege the most, the days she spent in Winterfell; every time she glanced at Jon, looking for any sign of Ned in him, his smile was all Lyanna, the way he acted was part Lyanna and part someone else, but his face, the way he acted looked nothing like Ned.

Robb Stark looked like a Tully, with auburn hair and blue eyes, but his jawline and his cheeks were all Ned. Something she couldn't see in Jon.

Ned, I hope I'm wrong because if I'm not, you might as well have doomed the whole North, Maege thought grimly before deciding to poke the Quiet Wolf.

"It reminds you of a certain wild wolf, doesn't he? I can already imagine Lyanna doing the same thing as Jon," Maege said, paying extra attention to Ned's reaction, and it didn't disappoint.

Ned suddenly felt frozen from her words, his throat dry, opening his mouth to say something, anything, but he just closed it again, opening it again, trying to find an excuse.

"W-well, he took after his a-aunt," Ned stuttered, not being able to say clear words, something that Maege noticed; she frowned at his reaction; this was one more nail in the coffin.

Ned escaped his thoughts as the sound of his son falling from his horse reached his ears; looking at what happened, Robb was lying on the ground, his hand rubbing the part where it hurt, and the horse was walking away from him.

"Stupid Horse," Robb murmured under his breath, seeing the horse walk away from him.

"That's the second time, Robb; come on, you can do it; go for the third," Jon teased, earning a glare from Robb, who was in no mood to joke around.

Jon, on the other hand, was on his horse, who was calm; it didn't show any sign of not liking Jon.

With the help of Lady Dacey and Ser Rodrik, Robb eventually mounted another horse after the other one was led away in the stall.

Ned had decided to ride along with his sons, his horse waiting for him, the gates of Winterfell open, allowing several riders to ride away, the first being Dacey, Lady Maege, Lord Glover, and Jon, who was smiling brightly, like the sun high in the sky.

Ned was riding close with his son, making sure he wouldn't fall from his horse; while Ned wasn't an expert on horses, he still could read the clear signs when a horse didn't like his rider; Ser Rodrik was also keeping a close eye on everything.

Jon Snow

Holding the reins in his hands, sitting up tall, with shoulders squared, heels down in the stirrups, and eyes focused ahead between the horse's ears.

Jon could feel himself going faster than ever before, the wind brushing off against his clothes, his hair dancing with the wind, his eyes looking forward; he felt free. A cry was heard high in the sky, Kessa flying high above him; Jon enjoyed this moment, his heart racing faster than ever before; he leaned closer, wanting to go even faster; the horse seemed to think the same when he started riding more quickly.

The ground shook from the horse's legs, and Jon, the bastard boy, riding up a small hill, Winterfell behind him now; he was further from his home than he had ever been before as a human, every other time, he would see everything through Kessa or some other animal. Still, now he could see everything himself; reaching the highest point of the small hill, he saw vast fields with snow ahead; everywhere he looked, the field seemed never to end, the snow all around him, land and air.

Jon leaned closer to his horse before patting his head; the horse left out a neighing sound at the attention; Jon chuckled before turning his horse around, facing the castle; despite being up a hill, he still wasn't higher than the tallest tower of Winterfell.

From here, Jon could see the beauty of the castle and its complexity of it; every roof was shaped like a cone, letting the snow fall from it during winter instead of accumulating on the roof, risking for it to fall on itself.

A high-pitch whistle above him was the only warning he got before Kessa landed beside him; surprisingly, his horse barely reacted to the sudden appearance of the Blue Eagle.

Kessa's body, without counting the wings, was slightly smaller than a pony; her wings were 1 meter long each, her claws sharp enough to pierce through small bones, and her beak was sharp like a knife, with a pointy end, enough to cut through skin and meat.

Jon's horse was white color, with red marks around his eyes, his eyes a rich green like grass, his hair was blue color and so was his tail. Jon had named him Dāez.

His father told him his horse was perfect for riding in snowy terrain; they were more powerful and durable than any other horse in the Seven Kingdoms.

Looking at Winterfell, Jon, for a second, thought how easy it would be just to ride away, to be free from this place; he knew this was his home, yet, Jon never saw Winterfell as his home. How much he wished to have wings like Kessa, to fly further than anyone ever did, to see everything this world had to offer.

Jon's eyes turned to look at the south, snowy fields ahead. Jon knew if he kept riding south, he would eventually reach Riverlands, The Storm Lands, King's Landing, Dorne, further ahead, Braavos, and more.

Jon held the reins tightly in his hands, considering running away, but he knew he couldn't; he was only seven name days, not to mention he still wanted to know who his mother was above everything else.

Jon had already accepted that his father would never reveal it for one reason or another; the bastard had decided to listen to Brynden Rivers; if it meant he could know the truth, that was more than worth it.

Jon suddenly heard the sound of horses; looking back in the direction of Winterfell, his eyes saw Lady Maege followed by Dacey and Lord Glover riding towards his location.

Jon just stood, and so did Kessa, who wasn't trying to intimate the coming riders, perhaps knowing they were no danger to Jon.

Finally reaching, Dacey's breathing labored, Lord Glover seemed not to be that tired, Lady Maege was just strangely looking at him; Jon noticed she was looking at him as if he was someone else, not him.

"Damn, boy, you damn know how to ride a horse. I have been riding horses since I could walk and yet never seen anyone ever riding a horse like you," Robett Glover said with a loud laugh escaping his mouth.

Jon smiled; it filled his chest with warmth to be praised for something he did right, his face brightening up like a fire in the middle of the night.

"Thank you, my lord, but I'm sure there are people who are better than me at riding horses," Jon said, looking down slightly, feeling embarrassed, earning a chuckle from Lord Glover.

"He's right, Jon, all my years, I have seen only one person who could ride a horse like you, as if you and the horse were one" The voice of Lady Maege suddenly reached his ears; Jon looked up in curiosity, his curiosity piqued, wanting to know of who he reminded her.

"Who, my lady?"

"Lyanna Stark, it seems you have taken after her; you are good in horse riding, just like your m-Aunt," Lady Maege said, smiling sincerely at him; Jon smiled back; he had heard from everyone how good Aunt Lyanna was with a horse, being compared to her was an Honor.

The comment of Lady Maege caused Robett to look at her with confusion before looking at Jon, more specifically, the way he was standing on his horse.

Lady Dacey narrowed her eyes at her mother, knowing she held Lyanna on such a high pedestal, maybe even above her own children. Hearing her mother compare someone to Lyanna must mean that Jon must have made quite an impression on her. Yet, Dacey felt like she was missing something, especially with the way her mother was looking at Jon.

"Thank You; my lady is an honor to be compared to someone like her"

"No need for that, Jon; you can just call me Maege," she said warmly towards the boy but earned a gasp from Robett.

"How come he can call you Maege, and me who has known you for years still can't call you that?" He asked with a frown, but Jon could tell he was teasing her.

Lady Maege rolled her eyes before turning to look at him. "Well, when the day comes that you win a horse race against me, you can call me whatever you want," She said smiling. Robett simply chuckled at her comments; "Nevermind then," he murmured before turning to ride to join the others.

Riding back, they soon joined a clearing in the forest. It was soon spread how Jon had won the race against Lady Maege, earning gasps from everyone, even Ned, who knew how good Lady Maege was at riding a horse.

They soon returned to Winterfell, Ned felt a glare behind his back the whole journey back, but he couldn't tell who was glaring at him.

Tonight's Feast

Jon was eating a piece of sausage, followed by boiled eggs and bread; since he was in front of the Whole North, the bastard boy knew the importance of not making a mess while you eat, unlike Arya, who seemed to be fighting with her food much to Catelyn's horror who kept whispering to her to start acting like a lady.

Knowing it was their last day in Winterfell, Lady Dacey had asked Jon before the feast if it was true that he could sing; the boy had answered with a passionate 'Yes'.

Knowing they weren't exactly drunk yet, Dacey stood up, making her way over to Jon and bowing her head to Lord and Lady Stark. She turned to look at the boy, who seemed to understand why she had come over to him.

"I think it is time for the song," Dacey suggested, earning a nod from Jon; Lady Mormont turned to look at everyone before clearing her throat.

"Everyone, Jon Snow wants to sing a song for us. I want everyone to listen to him," Dacey announced, earning 'YEH' from everyone, their mugs raised in the air, cheering for the Stark boy.

Jon smiled slightly but felt a bit uncomfortable with how many people were looking at him; he stood up before walking in front of the high table, bowing his head respectfully, clearing his throat, he started singing...

A bear there was,

A bear, a bear,

All black and brown and covered with hair.

'Oh come' they said,

'Oh come to the fair',

'The fair?' said he,

'But I'm a bear,

All black and brown and covered in hair!'

And down the road,

From here to there,

From here, to there

Three boys, a goat and a dancing bear,

They danced and spun all the way to the fair!

Oh, sweet she was and pure and fair,

The maid with honey in her hair, her hair,

The maid with honey in her hair.

The bear smelled the scent on the summer air,

The bear, the bear,

All black and brown and covered with hair,

He smelled the scent on the summer air,

He sniffed and roared and smelled it there,

Honey on the summer air.

'Oh I'm a maid and I'm pure and fair,

I'll never dance with a hairy bear,

A bear, a bear,

I'll never dance with a hairy bear!'

The bear, the bear,

Lifted her high into the air,

The bear, the bear,

'I called for a knight but you're a bear,

A bear, a bear,

All black and brown and covered in hair!'

She kicked and wailed,

The maid so fair,

But he licked the honey from her hair,

Her hair, her hair,

He licked the honey from her hair.

Then she sighed and squealed,

And kicked the air,

She sang: 'My bear so fair',

And off they went,

The bear, the bear,

And the maiden fair.

The moment he ended his song, everyone started cheering and applauding; many ladies were in tears, especially Sansa, who loved his voice.

Jon turned to look at his father, hoping for a look of recognition, a look of pride and love but instead found only eyes filled with sadness...

Four Years Time Skip the following Chapter. Jon's Journey will Start soon.