The Son of Ice and Fire (Jon Snow SI)

A Jon Snow SI set in an AU where Rhaegar Targaryen won. A man finds himself in the body of Jon Snow, but this is not the story he remembers. Rhaegar is alive, along with his children, and dragons still rule the realm. He is now Maekar Targaryen, the son of Lyanna Stark. His father rules over an unstable realm that is still healing from the rebellion. Ambitious and Hedonistic SI with minor uplift. This is my take on an OP Jon Snow because why not? I've always wanted to write one. There won't be a harem, but the main character will be involved with multiple women, with one being the ultimate pairing. Join to read ahead patreon.com/Illusiveone

Illusiveone · TV
Not enough ratings
31 Chs

We Do Not Sow

Asha Greyjoy

Pyke, 298 AC

Asha stood at the docks of Pyke, watching the ships arrive from all over the Iron Islands. The docks were a chaotic hive of activity, crowded with sailors, dockworkers, thralls, and merchants. The scent of saltwater mingled with the smell of fish and tar. Ships of all sizes lined the piers, their sails furled and masts swaying gently with the movement of the tide their hulls adorned with the sigils and colors of various houses of the Iron Isles, from the golden kraken of House Greyjoy to the silver scythe of House Harlaw.

The castle of Pyke itself loomed above the docks, its craggy towers and fortress-like walls jutting out of the rocky promontories. The sea crashed against the rocks below, sending up a fine mist that hung in the air. The atmosphere was tense, a palpable anticipation thrumming through the crowds.

All of this activity was due to one man: her uncle, Euron Greyjoy. Exiled by her father, the Lord Reaper of the Iron Islands, ten years ago, Euron had become a feared and dreaded name on all the seas in the known world.

He had returned a year ago, bringing with him riches beyond imagine and even sporting Valyrian steel armor, which he claimed to have found while exploring the ruins of Old Valyria. His return had sparked a frenzy among the Ironborn, who saw in him the promise of a return to the old ways of raiding and reaving.

Her father had welcomed his brother back, declaring that Euron had paid the iron price. Since then, Euron had been whispering in her father's and her brothers' ears, filling their heads with dreams of rebellion. He told them that the dragon was weak, that the Seven Kingdoms were ripe for the taking, and that if they rebelled, the realm would fall apart.

She watched the comings and goings on the docks with a wary eye. She knew the dangers of listening to Euron's silver-tongued promises. The Ironborn were being rallied to a cause that could very well lead them to ruin. Euron's return had brought a dangerous allure, a tantalizing promise of power and glory, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it was all built on a foundation of blood and lies.

She wanted to believe in the dream Euron spun, but deep down, she knew it would end in disaster. The Greenlanders hated the Ironborn, and they would all rally behind the dragon, even the former rebels.

She saw her younger brother walking towards her with a broad smile. He had been one of those most influenced by Euron's return, his ambitions stoked by their uncle's dangerous ideas.

"Look at that, sister! The Greenlanders have no chance. When was the last time this many ships were assembled here?" Theon exclaimed, his excitement palpable.

She sighed inwardly. Theon, like her other brothers, was swept up in the fervor that Euron had ignited. They were foolish, but they were her family, and she would support them to the end.

"Come, Theon," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Father will hold court soon." She led her brother away from the bustling docks and towards the looming castle of Pyke.

Her grandfather had the right idea, as her uncle liked to tell her. Quellon Greyjoy wanted the Ironborn to reform, become traders, and be the navy of the Seven Kingdoms, but his children, including her father, wanted a return to the glory days where they could reave and pillage. But her grandfather was dead and now her father ruled.

She glanced back at the throng of ships and sailors. The sight was impressive, yet it filled her with a sense of foreboding. The Ironborn's dream of returning to the old ways would be met with fierce resistance by the Greenlanders.

Entering the dark and weathered halls of Pyke, they made their way to the Great Hall, where Balon Greyjoy would soon hold court. The stone walls were adorned with banners of House Greyjoy, and the hall was filled with the murmurs of Ironborn lords and captains, each eager to hear the latest plans for their rebellion.

Theon walked beside her, his excitement undiminished. "Father will surely have great plans. Euron has been a true blessing."

Asha forced a smile, keeping her doubts to herself. "Yes, let's hear what Father has in mind," she replied.

They entered the crowded hall packed with Ironborn lords and captains, their faces alight with excitement and fervor. At the far end of the hall, on the raised dais, sat her father, Balon Greyjoy, on the Seastone Chair. To his side, resplendent in his Valyrian steel armor, was Euron.

Her uncle's armor was a sight to behold. It was dark and sleek, with an almost oily sheen that seemed to absorb the light around it. Intricate patterns were etched into it, giving it an otherworldly appearance.

Also present were Rodrik and Maron, her older brothers, standing with a sense of pride and expectation. Her uncles, Victarion and Aeron, were there as well. They made their way to the raised dais, where her father stood to address the gathered crowd.

"My fellow Ironborn, we stand on the brink of a new era. My father, Quellon Greyjoy, sought to weaken us with his reforms, to bend the knee to the Greenlanders. He believed in peace, but peace has only made us weak.

"Aegon the conqueror may have ended our golden age, our rule over the weak rivermen, but his dragons no longer rule the skies!"

The crowd murmured in agreement, their attention rapt.

Her father continued, "Now, the dragon is weak, and the Greenlanders are weaker still. They squabble among themselves, their kingdoms divided. Now is our time! We will raid from the Wall to the Arbor, reclaiming what is ours by right!"

A roar of approval went up from the crowd, the sound echoing off the stone walls.

"We do not sow," Balon shouted, raising his fist. "We will take their women and make them our salt wives. We will carve our legacy into the very bones of their land!"

The crowd erupted into chants of "King Balon! King Balon!" The fervor in the room was palpable, the Ironborn ready to follow their king and his plans for conquest.




Aegon Targaryen

Kings Landing, 298 AC

Aegon was always a sickly child, teetering on the brink of death until he was four. For years, everyone expected him to die, but he did not. He survived and overcame his weakness.

His father had high expectations for him, placing immense pressure on his shoulders. He tried and tried to live up to those expectations, striving to become the perfect heir his father wanted. But despite all his efforts, he realized he would never impress his father. The constant pressure and disappointment took a toll on him, leaving him feeling inadequate and frustrated.

Sometimes, he even felt a great envy for his so-called bastard brother in the North. Maekar didn't have to suffer under a father like Rhaegar Targaryen. He imagined Maekar living a simpler life, free from the suffocating expectations that plagued him daily. His mother had understood him, always comforting him when his father scolded him for not keeping up with his studies or missing a lesson with Arthur.

His relationship with his sister was also worsened due to his father. As she grew distant from him, she was eventually sent to Dorne to foster.

It was in this loneliness that he made a pivotal decision. He decided to stop trying to impress his father and instead live a life that could make him happy. This choice led him to seek out new friends, people who understood and accepted him without the burdensome expectations. One such friend was Joffrey Lannister, the heir to Casterly Rock, who introduced him to the finer pleasures in life.

Leaving the Red Keep in the evening, he and Joffrey decided to visit a new brothel in the city. He sat in a comfortable, plush chair in a dimly lit room. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, and the air was filled with the scent of exotic perfumes and incense. Joffrey sat next to him, drinking wine.

The madame of the brothel, a striking woman named Lysara, moved gracefully before them. She clapped her hands, and a line of beautiful girls entered the room, each one more captivating than the last. "My prince, my lord, may I present to you the finest jewels of King's Landing," she said, her voice smooth and inviting. She began to introduce each girl in turn.

"This is Elara, with hair as golden as the sun and eyes like emeralds." A slender girl with long, flowing hair stepped forward, her gaze meeting his with a flirtatious glimmer.

"And here we have Mirra, with lips as red as rubies and a body that could tempt even the most pious of men." A voluptuous brunette gave a playful wink.

Joffrey leaned in close, his voice low. "I want that one."

"And finally, this is Yara, a fiery spirit with a passion to match." A fierce, raven-haired girl looked directly at him, her eyes burning with intensity.

"What do you think, Aegon? Any of these lovely ladies catch your eye?" Joffrey asked.

"It's hard to choose," he replied.

Lysara, sensing his indecision, smiled knowingly. "Take your time, my lord. The night is young."

He stood from his seat and began to inspect the women before him. He touched and slapped them playfully, eliciting giggles from the women. He loved the attention they gave him. He enjoyed the freedom and power he felt in these moments.

Just as he was about to make his choice, the door to the room swung open, and Jaime Lannister stepped in.

Aegon looked at Jaime with a smile. "Ha, I knew you Kingsguard didn't take your vows seriously," he said.

Jaime remained unfazed. "I am not here for this," he said, his voice firm. He turned to the women, who quickly gathered their belongings and left the room, much to Aegon's disappointment.

"Your father has called a council," Jaime continued. "You must come quickly."

He sighed."Very well," Aegon replied, trying to mask his frustration. He straightened his clothes and gave one last longing look at the women outside.

Jaime turned his gaze to Joffrey. "Nephew, you should come as well."

Joffrey protested, "What? Why?"

Jaime gave him a stern glare.

"Fine," Joffrey said, following Aegon out of the brothel.

They arrived at the council room, where his father, Rhaegar, and the other council members were already seated, their faces grim. He took a seat beside his father, and Joffrey sat beside Kevan, who looked pale.

Seeing their serious faces, Aegon couldn't help but quip, "Who died?"

Rhaegar turned to Aegon, his expression severe. "The ironborn have attacked and sacked Lannisport," he said.

"They destroyed the Lannister fleet," Kevan added.

"How? When?" Jeoffrey asked in shock.

His father stood up and turned to him. "You, my son, must lead the armies of the Seven Kingdoms and crush this rebellion."

He stood and met his father's gaze. The old fire within him, the desire to impress his father and prove himself worthy, burst into life.

"The Ironborn will pay for what they have done," he declared.



Next, Maekar visits his Uncle Ned and his family, where the new Stark fleet is almost finished being built. He had a hand in designing the ships... if only there were a chance to test them.