Prologue

'For the watch, huh…?'

Even with the numbness of betrayal, the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch took in shaky breaths while surrounded by nothingness. Regardless of being a boy of the mere age of nineteen, he still attempted with all the might of the Stark blood in him to not show weakness…even in death.

Jon Snow may have been a bastard, but a sword in his hand and his Stark honor is what he improvised on in his entire life. He was better than Robb when it came to fighting, but was never commended. They would have, but his status frowned upon the praise, so he couldn't blame them.

He was looking for glory at the Black while his father was beheaded. He was sleeping with a woman when his brothers – Robb, Bran and Rickon where betrayed and brutally murdered, and his sisters suffering in the cold and deceitful world. He knew his oath entitled him to discard his family…But the horror of the brutalilty faced by the Stark family simply haunted him, it was border lining on suicide thoughts at imagining each death and torture playing out in his mind.

And now, The Night's Watch, his sworn brothers, had taken turns in stabbing a knife in his heart one by one…His one hope in life left him piece by piece with each of their cold eyes. Even Olly had betrayed him. But, Jon should have seen it coming. He let the people who murdered and ate his parents move south of the wall. He couldn't imagine himself holding back if King Joffery or Theon turn cloak walked causally passed him.

'Is this what it felt like, father…?

Jon Snow finally closed his eyes, hoping that he would see his family at last, hoping for last jape with Robb, last run with Arya.

SPLASHHHHHHH!

However in an instant, Jon felt the back of his head being pulled back and water dripping down his face and hair. Water gushed out of his nose and mouth almost comically, and he could only cough.

"Bloody hell Jon! I told you to drink some water, not drown yourself in a bucket of it, gods!"

Jon dropped the bucket of water in his hands in shock, as he regained his bearings. He looked around in fright when he heard a boyish giggle as well as light chuckling of a matured male around him. And boy, did he get shocked to a point where his eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

Winterfell…he's back at Winterfell, but how!? He was de-

….

….

….

However, whatever thoughts Jon had in his head instantly came to a halt at the site of the three males in front of him. The first was a boy at the age of five; he had shoulder length black hair and grey eyes, he also wore clothes accustomed to the North. Looking closely at his face Jon could see that he looked a lot like his uncle Benjen, barely distinguishable. He was giggling away at the still stupidly shocked expression on his face. He was happily siting on a carriage of hay.

And standing next to him was a child version of Ned Stark. Stony expression on his face with slight amusement on lips. He seems to be ready for training in yard judging from the wooden sword in his hand.

The person next to him, an adult standing with his hands behind his back, and laughing…By the gods, he looked like a younger and handsome Rodrik Cassel!

And finally, right in front of him, stood a boy that could only be of age 12, with neck length black hair and a smirk on his face. He had a shield in his left hand and a wooden sword in his right hand, and was looking at him with half concern, and half amusement…He…He looked like his father…he looked just like a child version of Ned Stark. But not quite like him. There were differences.

The boy who looked just like Ned Stark sighed softly and ruffled Jon's head, "Looks like I hit you too hard on your head, keep your shield up before I ring yah head like a bell, brother."

'Wait…WHAT!?'

The young Rodrik Cassel quiet down and smiled at the two of them, "Give it another go, Bran. Watch your footwork, Jon…and follow your instincts, let your body guide you!"

'Wait…Wait…WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!'

CRANK!

Yet again they were interrupted. Before Bran could pass Jon his wooden sword or Jon could lift his jaw from the ground, the gates of Winterfell opened with a loud bang as a black and white blur raced through it.

Riding on top of white stallion, is a young girl of age 7 with long, waist length black hair and milky white skin. She wore a training outfit that clearly wasn't meant for girl, but it didn't diminish her growing beauty in the slightest. Jon could only follow like the rest of them as she circled around them mockingly, smiling all the way.

"Lyanna, stop showing off!" Brandon and Benjen whined while pulling a tantrum.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, did it. Jon Stark, second son of Rickard and Lyarra Stark, elder brother of Eddard, Lyanna and Benjen Stark, and younger brother to Brandon Stark, passed out with a shell-shocked expression on his face. These few moments of his new life that he couldn't understand, mind fucked him to unconsciousness.

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'I'm in the past, and I'm ten…Fuck me…'

Jon could only stare at the ceiling with a blank expression. How all this could have happen, he didn't know. His uncle and father were young; his uncle…very fucking young, aunt Lyanna is alive, and worst of all…he's bloody ten again!

'So this would mean, Uncle Brandon is alive and well, and so is Grandfather Rickard,' Jon thought, his hands behind his head, surprisingly calm about this situation after waking up, 'Grandma Lyarra was said to have passed away when uncle Benjen was born, and father called me brother. So I'm their sibling now. This is odd, how can a timeline be so tweaked. I'll have to start referring to father and Benjen in their first name, as well as uncle Brandon and aunt Lyanna.'

Jon got up and sat at the edge of his bed, 'Judging by their age, mines included, this would be a couple years away from the Tourney at Harrenhal…where everything began.'

He looked up when he heard the door to his room open with a creek, and he straightened and sweated up when he saw that Lyanna burst through. My god, she really did look similar to Arya…Or, Arya looks similar to Lyanna…?

"JON!" Lyanna gasped, before running towards him and spearing him to the other side of his bed.

"GOD!" Jon coughed at getting the wind knocked out of him. Father wasn't lying when he said aun-his sister packed some power when she's excited. He barely picked his hands up before she speared him.

Lyanna however merely giggled, "Bran said you fainted after he smacked you on the head with a wooden sword, I gave him one punch and two kicks in his arse!"

She even demonstrated her actions with comical hand to hand combat movements.

"Au-Lyanna, is he alright!?" Jon exclaimed, shocked at the punishment Ned received from the girl.

"He recovered, while sulking in Ned's laughter." Lyanna smiled, mischief twinkling in her eyes, "You promised you would race me after you're done with training, but you passed out. Are you alright?"

Seeing the worried expression on her face Jon nearly laughed, 'Yep, just like Arya…'

"I'm perfectly fine, today was really sunny, and I must have felt light." Jon reassured, rubbing the top of her head playfully with a grin Robb would have been proud of, while she giggled in response.

However, a new voice resounded throughout the room.

"What happened today Jon, you actually let me get the better of you and then you fainted. I can still see father laughing when no one is looking. That's when you know something is bloody hilarious."

Jon and Lyanna turned towards the door, and at that moment he somehow definitely knew who the male leaning against it - barely holding a giggle was. It was his Uncle Brandon. He limped from behind him with a soft cushion against his arse to ease the pain, a slight cringe every few seconds.

"I still don't understand how you do it, Jon. You barely eleven but, you nearly took off Brandon's hand the other day. Oh what a day that was, he was so eager to fight with a metal sword too-Ach!" Ned exclaimed in mid-sentence as Brandon's fist impacted with his head, wiping the sly grin the smaller boy had on his face.

"Watch it Ned, watch it!" Brandon's mouth twitched as he growled in humiliation.

Jon had a blank face the entire time this happened. However, Brandon and Ned turned towards Jon.

"I will be going back to the Barrows soon. Father tells me you leave in less than a fortnight to train with the recruits in the Night's Watch. Why Jon, that's a harsh choice, you can still go to any place for fostering." Brandon stated - sadness clearly in his voice.

Jon panicked slightly, memories of his betrayal still fresh in his mind, while resisting the urge to touch the spots that he had been stabbed, which where nothing but unblemished flesh now. He knew that Alliser Thorne and the ones who had betrayed him were not brothers of the watch yet, but even mentioning that harsh place made him shiver. However, when he thought about it, the training in at castle black really did improve him drastically. Combined with the harsh cold and the training regimen did wonders and maester Aemon said he was one of best fighters he had seen in the North, and would only improve. Who knows, perhaps this time he can help improve the Night's Watch without the interference of that cunt Alliser. But he wouldn't celibate, that had caused too much trouble for him in the past…the future.

Brandon sighed sadly when he saw the determination on his brother's face. He honestly blamed himself for it to some extent. Everyone always tries to get his attention, with him being the heir to Winterfell that they almost forget about his younger brothers entirely. His father would never just demand from everybody to pay attention to his younger siblings. Richard Stark, out of sympathy, offers them the choice and opportunity to become wards to which ever Lord accepted the proposal. He was send to Barrow lands under Dustins, Ned was said to be sent to Vale on ten name days, however Jon had shocked everyone by choosing to train with the brothers of the Night's Watch.

At first their father brutally refused, and by brutally, Brandon reckoned his voice would freeze a White Walker. Alas, Jon challenged their father by saying that if he could defeat five guards; he would allow him full right to go. Jon was actually an enigma to them. Despite being ten, he proved that he was no high garden flower. His young age allowed him to maneuver however he wanted around the guards, and attacked them with ridiculous speed at their legs before knocking them out with the pommel of his sword.

Ned had said there was no honor in the way he fought. And Jon replied, "What is honor when you need to survive, brother?"

Lord Stark immediately knew Jon would survive the training at Castle Black as soon as he said that. Brandon could still remember the pout Ned had on his face the entire day. Of course, Lyanna and Benjen threw tantrums when they heard where Jon was leaving to, and Lyanna had been crying and hadn't spoke to Jon for a week. Now it seems she wanted to spend as much time as she can with him before he left to train and help Castle Black.

"Castle Black doesn't have high born who will pester me constantly. I'm free to do whatever training I wish to do. Plus, it's nice to have a Stark there once again." Jon gave a quick reply, chuckling nervously.

"The Night's Watch…isn't what it was thousands of years ago, Jon. And did you hear only three remaining towers remain. That's madness; you could have even chosen to go to Casterly Rock for fuck sakes." Brandon reckoned.

Lyanna kicked Brandon on his arse, "Language, idiot!"

"Shit!" Brandon exclaimed.

"I've made my decision. I'm sticking with it." Jon uttered, tiredly. Ned and Brandon nodded, sighing sadly.

"But now there won't be anyone here to kick Brandon's arrogant arse." Lyanna grinned slyly, letting out an evil giggle.

"Lyanna!" Brandon growled while clenching his fists.

"Sad day it will be." Ned reckoned, grinning which made Jon almost laugh.

Now he understood. This was when father was truly happy, when his brother and sister where still alive and close. And he is now his brother, and part of that happiness. That's when Jon realized, the tourney that destroyed his family, is in exactly six years' time…The Tourney at Harrenhal.

'Barristan Selmy, Arthur Dayne, Jaime Lannister, The Mountain that rides, and all the warriors that stands in my way…' Jon thought, closing his eyes, 'If I am to protect house Stark, if I am to protect my family, my their happines and smile, Lyanna, Brandon…If I am to bring fear across all those who have wronged the wolf…'

…..

…..

…..

'I need to become something else entirely.'

Jon opened his eyes abruptly as Lyanna hugged him with sadness and the rest surrounded him and joked around. He gently pulled his aunt, or sister now closer while rubbing her head.

The former bastard glared at the bed sheet with such coldness, it would have turned to ice.

'Rhaegar Targaryen, I dare you to step into the Wolf's den. Something else will be waiting for you this time.'

End Prologue