2 Jon Snow?

Winterfell, The North - Year 285 after Aegon's Conquest

POV | Catelyn Stark

She could not help but frown as she looked at her husband's bastard running around like an animal. Chasing cats. It was not a new scene since he had been doing it for a year now. Why he decided to chase cats, she did not know. He was an anomaly. Unnatural.

She loathed him. Everything her Septa had told her as a child and young woman seemed to be true. He was spawn of lust and deceit. It was clear in her eyes that he would one day do his utmost to steal everything that should one day be her Robb's.

Jump. Kick. Jump. Swing.

He was unnaturally strong and large for a boy of merely five name days. How else would he be able to jump onto a wall, kick-off, then jump again, and then swing himself onto one of the lower roofs. The cat was starting to slow down.

He was smart as well. He tried not to show it, but Maester Luwin told her of both the kids' progress. Her trueborn son was behind the bastard yet again. Sometimes she wanted to strangle him in his sleep. She could not. Not since his illness and her prayer to The Stranger.

She was not a child killer. She looked at her beautiful daughter in her arms. She was a few months old, but calm as the water of a pond. She looked at her trueborn son. He was sitting upon a barrel. His back was straight, his hair perfect, and his visage was handsome and noble.

She turned her head in the same direction as her son, to find out that he was looking upon Snow again. The Wild Wolf. How she hated the name some of the servants whispered in the corners of HER Castle. The audacity. The Fallen Star. She wanted blood when she heard that nickname.

Brandon's son. It sent chills through her spine the first time she heard that.

It made sense. That made it even worse. She knew of Brandon's promiscuity. She loved him anyhow. She knew that he would not have shamed her by raising his bastards in Winterfell, so she did not mind.

She knew that both brothers had been besotted by The Bitch.

The mother of the bastard.

Then most beautiful woman since Shiera Seastar. Ashara Dayne.

She laughed a mirthless laugh. She did not mind when Ashara danced with Ned during the Tourney at Harrenhal. She was even happy on her good-brother's behalf.

Except, he became her husband. He promised her that he would not stray from their marital bed. Yet he supposedly did. She was unsure because Brandon seemed just as taken with the hauntingly beautiful Ashara Dayne.

She knew his mother was Ashara. Who else could give him those maddening purple orbs that glowed like amethyst? Who else would give him those princely features?

Sin, lust, deceit, debauchery, and treachery. She could see it all in the bastard's future. His abnormally black hair that reached his shoulders, danced in the wind as he was starting to corner the cat. He made small twitches that made the cat move exactly like he wanted it to. He was turning a predator into prey. A boy of five name days.

Maidens around the world would fall for his looks. He was a creature of sin, born of sin.

Her greatest trouble was that she did not know the boy's true father.

Brandon or Ned? If it was Ned, then he had broken his first promise to her. If it was Brandon, then his threat to Robb was even greater. Who would the bannermen choose? Brandon's son? The Heir everyone looked forward to.

Or would they choose the trueborn son? Her son. The rightful Heir of Winterfell.

"MIIIIAAAWW!!"

"Wuhuu, Snow caught the cat!"

"Hahahaha, the little bastard did it! That'll be 2 silver stags, Mikken!"

"Aye, it seems Lord Snow is a nimble one. Take the silver, you arse."

"That was awesome, Jon! Can you teach me?"

Applause. Awe.

She wanted him gone as soon as possible. The Night's Watch. The Citadel. Essos. Valyria. She did not care. Just far away from her, Winterfell, and her children.

He had everything but a name. The looks, the charisma, the strength, the determination, and the wit. Everything that could make him even more of a threat to her Robb.

She coughed lightly to make her presence known to the guards and servants in the courtyard. They scuttled away as soon as they saw her ice-cold orbs and frowning visage looking down upon them. Lady Stark was not amused.

Robb and the bastard were also looking up at her. The rebellious cat calm in his arms, rubbing its' grey head gently against the bastard's chin. Even the cat was tame in his arms. Everything always went his way. Her eyes were almost glowing with hatred, envy, and wrath at the little monster.

"Robb, you should not be wasting your time here. It is time for your lordly lessons to begin. Leave the low-born to their duties." She said in a low tone, to make sure only the boys heard her.

Her son looked crestfallen, he obviously wanted to play with the cat.

The bastard however switched his soft gaze from the baby in her arms, to her face, and his eyes turned frigid, but the rest of his face looked calculating. He was unnatural. How did he understand the barb in her words? Kids ate dirt and did stupid things. Why was he so much smarter? The Septa usually said that Bastards grew faster. This was too fast.

She turned around. She would have to talk to her husband again.

POV | Aegon Targaryen/Jon Snow

He smiled encouragingly at his cousin as Robb followed the frigid bitch. A name he only used in his mind.

He had been in this world for five years already. What a change it had been. No toilets, no electricity, only one freaking front tooth at the moment and generally pretty shitty living conditions. Oh, he had it much better than actual peasants, it always felt weird to think of other people as that, but his circumstances were crap compared to what he could remember from the other world. He did not even know what it was called, but he could remember the general layout of their society. The insane ways they travelled, communicated, and lived.

It was so incredibly fast, but so freaking stressful.

He definitely preferred the tempo here on Planetos. Everything was just so chill. He woke up, ran a few errands for the servants to earn himself some coin. He made more than the servants, perks of being the Lord's son, and then he had classes with the nice Maester Luwin. An honorable Maester, who would have thought.

Maester Luwin is an old balding man, with thin white hair and grey eyes. He was the helpful sort, at least that was Aegon's opinion. He was timid and would probably suck at anything war-related except for healing and raising the white flag, but he was a nice person anyway. Aegon liked him a lot. More than he liked his boring and stoic uncle. That man is boring as the winter is long. Luwin always had small pearls of wisdom for him. His favorite was after an especially harsh scolding from Lady Fish.

"The first step towards success is taken when you refuse to be a captive of the environment in which you first find yourself." Maester Luwin looked at Aegon meaningfully as he said it. He was badass like that. He knew a five-year-old, smart, or not, would be affected by a scolding like the one he overheard.

So, when he looked into, the eyes of Aegon, he knew what he needed to hear, and he let him have it. A bastard he might have been masquerading as, but that just meant he had freedom. By the small smirk on Aegon's face, Luwin knew that he understood, and they continued reading in peace.

Aegon liked Luwin a lot.

When he was not busy with errands and classes, he had more than 8 hours to do whatever he wanted to. That's where his training came in. He had badass fire powers and cold resistance, and he had a sick healing factor that allowed him to develop faster than anyone. His talent had also made itself known fast. In everything. The wish was fucking insane. Everything was so much fun when you learned it fast. It was not instant mastery at all, but it still left people flabbergasted.

He had "learnt" his letters in two days. He wanted to be perceived as a genius, not a monster. Reading "took" him a week and he was proficient enough for harder books in less than a month. That meant he was reading complex history books at the tender age of 4 and a half. Luwin loved him for a reason after all. He was hailed as a genius know only to a few of the Stark guards, Lord and Lady Stark, and his uncle Benjen. They thought it would be bad for Robb to know that he was behind, especially since he was still learning his letters and had finally started to learn how to read.

That was what they knew at least. They did not know that he could read more than 150,000 words an hour. He was also not dumb enough to tell them that he had already learned to read High Valyrian and a few of the bastardized versions of it. He also did not tell them that he knew his numbers, no need to increase the jealousy of Lady Fish and the fear of Lord Stoic.

10 for 1 was the most broken wish ever. Absolutely insane. The average literate man could read 250 words per minute, which is equal to 15,000 words an hour. He could read ten times faster than that. He could also remember whatever he read. He did not remember it verbatim, but if he understood it, then he remembered it. A nice little side effect of overloading his brain, eating a shit ton of food, healing and improving.

He could not just read all the time though. He also played a lot with his adorable little cousin Robb. He could be a little shit, but that was mainly Fish-face's fault. Playfighting was decent training anyway and building good relationships within one's own family would never be a waste of time in Aegon's humble opinion.

They usually ran around with stick swords or long sticks they imagined to be spears. Whilst they could not spar for real with Ser Rodrick's guidance until their seventh name days, they could look at the training of The Men-in-arms. With Aegon's visualization prowess and Robb's quick wit, they managed to learn a lot by just watching.

When Robb grew tired, and he did. Aegon would start chasing cats to the amusement of the entire castle.

It might seem strange to almost everyone, but Aegon continued anyway. It was tough, the cats were nimble as fuck, but that made it even better. He had watched seen the scenario from the Game of Thrones series, where his future little cousin was trained by The First Sword of Bravos. Syrio Forel. Since he did not really have that many other references for weapon's fighting, he thought it prudent to develop the nimbleness needed for Water Dancing.

It might not be his future fighting style, but with his 10 for 1, he figured it would be all too easy to use this nimble foundation for spear training.

Fuck swords. Seriously. He would learn to use it as a back-up weapon, and more seriously when he got a weapon of Valyrian Steel, but the cold hard truth was that The Spear is King. Reach, Power, and Versatility. It had it all. With his future height it would be perfect as well. It also only made sense for him to wield a spear considering the spear he would grow for himself. He might have been a bit vain, but an imposing spear would be a necessity. Probably…

'Rustle'

He had been standing still, contemplating his current life for some time it would seem, because the guards and servant had moved back to the courtyard, and his cat was starting lick his left cheek right above his mouth.

"Hey there missy, you sure gave me a challenge for the ages."

"Raw."

"Feel like becoming my first constant companion?"

The cat tilted its' head cutely and locked her beautiful green eyes with Aegon's purple ones. She closed them slowly and rubbed her head against his chest in confirmation. He closed his eyes slowly as well before he warged into her. It was a seamless transition. He met no resistance, before he started to see and feel the world from her perspective. It was a humbling experience for him. He knew that he was getting arrogant because everything went his way but feeling the love and trust the cat had for him was something he never considered possible. He had tried lighting a small knife on fire, but that felt nowhere near as fulfilling as this.

He returned to his own body and hugged the cute cat closer to his chest and planted a light kiss to the top of her head.

"We're going to be the best of friends, Freya. Don't you think so?" His voice was low and gentle. Almost tender.

The newly named Freya seemed perfectly happy with that and snuggled closer to his neck.

"Hahaha, you liked that name, huh?" Aegon's smile grew all the way to his ears now. "I am happy. Hey Freya, feel like capturing a Raven now? We might as well make more friends."

She raised her little paw to his cheek, patted it twice for confirmation and jumped down as if to show him which way they should run. Aegon stood, shocked that he immediately understood what she meant.

Freya did not seem particularly impressed by that, so she growled in impatience before she took off, leaving Aegon to catch him, which he did surprisingly swiftly.

"Wait, Freya! We can't catch my next Poke- 'cough', companion, if I'm not there to do the catching."