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The Following NINE Chapters are avaliable for Patrons.
Chapter 30 (Dragon Dreams), Chapter 31 (Reunion with The Starks), Chapter 32 (Night at Winterfell), Chapter 33 (A Tourney), Chapter 34 (Ned's Regrets), Chapter 35 (Direwolves of House Stark), Chapter 36 (No Time Left), Chapter 37 (A Wildling's Life), and Chapter 38 (Crow's Eye) are already available for Patrons.
Jon Snow
Walking outside, the Stark Valyrian Steel sword in his left hand and Dark Sister in his right. They were beautiful and deadly, the blade sharper than anything else. He wondered what he should do with them. He briefly thought of giving Wolf's Blood back to House Stark; it belonged to them; Jon Stark, whoever he had been according to his great uncle, had been a great warrior.
He thought of perhaps giving Dark Sister back to House Targaryen, but he quickly dismissed that thought; his two great Uncles had entrusted him with the blades, and he wasn't going to give them away that easily. Jon didn't know them; he had heard their names, their deeds, but one could easily hide beneath a cloak of righteousness and show its true colors when they could.
Jon remembered the many times' Lord Stark told me I was his son, his flesh and blood, yet, he had lied from the very beginning, the most honorable man in the Seven Kingdoms hiding with a badge of honor, justifying his deeds in the name of honor.
Jon wondered what Lord Stark's plans were for him; he hated to admit it, but a long time ago, he had seriously thought of joining the Night's Watch once he grew up and became a man; that was an honorable place for a bastard like him, people there didn't care about his name, his status, whenever he was a prince of the realm or the lowest bastard, he still could find a place there. Even a bastard can rise high in the Night's Watch, an honorable order with rapists and thieves, only the filth of the realm were there.
Jon felt his throat dry, remembering his desire not to be a stain in his father's honor, to be something more, that's all he ever wanted, and to prove to the world that he wasn't a greedy bastard who would one day take everything that belonged to Robb.
But he wasn't a man without selfish desires. Jon would lie that he hadn't wanted Winterfell; he wanted all that and more; he wanted his name; he wanted to have a beautiful wife and one day children, perhaps. Now, Jon had the name; he had the power, his dragon; despite knowing him only for a short time, he felt as if he had known him for years. Jon knew with that dragon alone; he could have everything. The Whole Westeros, but No. He wanted none of that; his heart yearned for the love of a mother that he would never get.
"Jon," he escaped his thoughts when Val spoke his name gently, her soft and warm hand touching his cheek tenderly as if he was made of glass that would easily break.
"Val?"
"We need to return to Mance; we can rest halfway through the road," Val spoke softly, turning to walk to her elk; Jon simply let out a tired sigh, and his head went up, looking at the majestic dragon.
"Follow īlva, Aegarax(Follow us, Aegarax)," Jon ordered in Valyrian; the dragon released steam from his nose before lifting his head, surprisingly Kessa and Ghost weren't tense despite being in the presence of an enormous dragon. Same as Jon, the dragon seemed to know them, somehow.
Jon chuckled at the view; Kessa landed on top of Aegarax's head, resting without a care in the world as if she was on vacation. She gave Jon a look that said, 'Now, I have my own horse to carry me around,'
Jon laughed, and Aegarax didn't seem to mind her presence. Turning to Val, whose eyes were looking at the dragon.
"I still can't believe my eyes. I feel like if I close my eyes hard enough. I will wake up from this dream," Val commented, her blue eyes looking forward.
Walking up to Ghost and mounting him, they soon left the area, the giant weirwood tree slowly disappearing in the horizon. The prince didn't know what to think; he felt anger, despair, felt many things; for now, he decided to bottle all of it down inside him. This wasn't the moment for him to get furious.
The night soon came, and Jon and Val set up a tent; Aegarax lay down just a hundred meters away from them; when he landed, he caused a wind wave that almost made their tent fly away, the snow blown away from the frozen ground underneath.
Laying beside Val, her warmth helped Jon to feel better, his arms around her naked waist, her blue eyes looking at his grey ones. "Jon," she whispered softly, her fingers playing with his hair as she leaned closer.
"You can talk to me," she whispered softly, kissing his forehead, her hand playing with his hair.
"Val?"
"I'm not going to pretend that I understand the world south of the wall. To me, you having a different last name changes nothing; Stark, Targaryen, those names are meaningless to me, but I know this is important to you. Whatever you have inside, bring it out; the moment you stole me, we became one. We are together, you belong to me, and I belong to you. I want you to find comfort in me. To be the person you can talk to whenever you have problems," Val spoke softly, her voice almost a whisper.
Jon took a deep breath, her fresh scent like snow engulfing his nose; he rested his head against her chest, her hand bringing him closer to her, sharing the warmth like one body.
"All my life. I asked Lord Stark who my mother was," Jon took a deep breath. "You know I dreamed of her. She would come to me, kissing my cheek and calling me her son. She would shower me with love. To meet her, that is something I wanted over everything else," he spoke; Val said nothing, listening to him, caressing his hair, wanting him to feel better.
"Now, I know she will never return. All the dreams have been nothing but dreams," Jon finished, his body trembling slightly. Val brought him to her face, kissing his lips softly, taking his breath away, who eventually returned the kiss.
"My mother died giving birth to me. Father trained my sister and me to become good at wielding a weapon, but the old gods deemed him to leave us. My father died from the white walkers. I still remember him; we ran away, but he didn't make it. I-I still remember their blue eyes, his blue eye..." she stopped mid-sentence, her eyes going downwards, before looking at Jon's eyes; despite the pang she felt in her heart, her eyes burning, she didn't cry. Instead, they hugged, enjoying the warmth of each other for the rest of the night in silence.
Benjen Stark - One Week Later
Three years it had been three years since he had last seen his brother.
When Benjen received the letter from his brother and lord that Jon had left Winterfell. Benjen had wasted no time and started searching for him. Despite trying for a year, they never found a sign of him. Benjen could still remember when Ned told him they would abandon the search. They got into a very heated argument, ending up with Benjen punching his brother in the face before telling him that he was a coward and a traitor to Brandon's memory.
Three years later, he regretted his actions; he hadn't thought of his brother's feelings. Jon was his nephew as well, Jon was the last memory of Brandon, and he knew his brother would never willingly abandon Jon. He wanted to be on good terms with his brother again. Patch things up.
He arrived at Winterfell, and he was glad to be back here; seeing his old home reminded him of his childhood when he and Lyanna would get in trouble for doing pranks together. He could almost hear her laughter across the courtyard.
"Lyanna, father will kill us if he knows we are putting goat shit on his boots!"
"Well. He doesn't have to know it was us, does he?"
"Open the gates," A soldier shouted as the giant gate opened. Snow that had accumulated fell off it. When the gates of Winterfell opened, he walked inside on Horseback; his eyes saw his brother first, who smiled brightly at him. That worked, easing his worries a little. His eyes found Arya, who was looking more like Lyanna every year.
He briefly glanced at Lady Tully before looking at the rest of his nephews and niece.
Robb, Sansa, and Bran looked like Tullys, and Rickon was still just a baby. He frowned slightly but quickly smiled at the sight of his brother's family.
His brother walked over to him before he could reach them. "Welcome back, Benjen," Ned greeted him with a forced smile that his little brother quickly noticed. Shaking their hands before sharing a brotherly hug. Benjen noticed immediately that something was off with his big brother; he could see he was tense, and he was sure whatever it was, Ned would tell him later.
"It is good to be at Home," his eyes roamed around the courtyard, and much to his delight, it looked almost the same since he was a naive little kid. His eyes turned to look at Robb.
"You will be a handsome lord," Benjen said, smiling; his nephew had his father's nose, that's for sure.
Robb smiled, appreciating his words. "Thank You, uncle,"
Benjen's eyes turned to look at Lady Catelyn, his eyes turning cold at the sight of her. He knew she despised Jon, despite the many times his big brother defended her, and a part of Benjen was convinced that she had something to do with Jon's disappearance.
"Is good to see you, my good-sister," Benjen greeted her with a forced smile, almost spating when he called her 'good-sister,'
"Is good to have you here, my good brother," Lady Catelyn greeted back with a triumphant smile; it had taken years, but her family was returning to normal, and with the bastard out of the picture, her children were safe.
Benjen turned to look at Sansa, and she seemed to be in seven heavens as if something incredible had happened. Benjen couldn't remember the last time Sansa smiled as much as now. "Welcome Back, uncle Benjen," Sansa said with a smile, but Benjen could tell that she just wanted this to be over as soon as possible and be somewhere else.
"Is good to see you, my niece. You look more like your mother every year," Benjen spoke, kissing her forehead. In the corner of his eyes, he noticed Arya rolling her eyes at his comment before murmuring something he couldn't hear.
He fought the urge to laugh out loud as he made his way to his favorite niece. "How are you, my little wolf?" Benjen asked, kneeling to her lever; she smiled in delight before throwing her arms around his neck. "Is good to have you here, uncle," Arya said, kissing his cheek.
"You look more and more like a fierce wolf," He said, smiling in amusement before ruffling her hair, much to her annoyance.
Benjen saw Bran, who was moving his legs around impatiently. "How are you, my nephew?" He asked, and Bran turned to look at him with a smile. "I'm fine, uncle. How are you?" Bran questioned, talking a bit fast.
Benjen chuckled, his eyes turning to Ned, who wasn't looking at him.
"Benjen, we need to talk," his brother spoke seriously, his voice alone telling him that this was serious.
A servant showed Benjen his room, telling him that a bath was prepared for him.
After he reached his room, he was quick to remove his clothes, taking a bath, he cleaned his body; a part of him wanted his wife to be here with him, but she was in her eighth month of pregnancy and in no condition to travel anywhere, and Lyanna wanted to be with her mother.
Ned Stark
Ned was happy to see his brother, but he knew what he would tell him would probably destroy any goodwill they had amongst each other.
Ned wondered how he would break the news to his little brother; he knew he deserved any punishment for his actions. No matter how close he had been to Lyanna, Ned knew that was nothing compared to how close Benjen had been with Lyanna and the knowledge that Jon wasn't Brandon's bastard son but instead the last legacy of Lyanna and that he had disappeared without leaving a trace. Ned knew his brother could resort to violence like the last time and this time... shaking his head, he dismissed that idea, not allowing it to grow in his head like an ugly tree.
Soon the door of the room opened, and Benjen walked inside, looking fresh with a small smile.
"Ned, last time we departed, we weren't on the best terms. I... I wanted to apo," "Don't," Ned interrupted him, raising his hand; his brother's words made him feel even worse.
Finally, turning to face his little brother. "I need to tell you something,"
"What?" Benjen asked, taking a step forward; seeing his brother's pale face made him worry.
"Not here. In the crypts," Ned ordered, and Benjen followed without questioning.
Benjen Stark
Since the moment he arrived, he had noticed something was wrong, just the way his brother walked, in a heavy way, as if the weight of the world was on top of him.
Benjen followed him to the crypts without saying anything but found it surprising that his brother wanted to talk to him in the Crypts. Soon they stopped in front of a statue he recognized right away.
"What's wrong?" Benjen asked calmly and quietly, but still, his voice could be heard throughout the crypts. His eyes briefly glanced at the statue of his sister; it didn't do her justice. His sister was far more beautiful than any statue could ever depict her to have been.
His eyes turned to his brother, who turned to look at Lyanna's tomb, murmuring something under his breath that Benjen didn't hear, taking a deep breath. Ned turned to look at him, his eyes full of sadness. This alarmed Benjen, fearing that Jon had been found de-
"Ned, what is happening?" Benjen questioned in panic, taking a step closer. Ned avoided his eyes, murmuring something he didn't hear at first.
"What?"
"Who do you think is Jon's mother?" Ned questioned; Benjen was taken aback by his question; he expected many things but not this. He had once thought that his mother could be Ashara Dayne, but he dismissed it, knowing Ned had a thing for her and Brandon wouldn't go after her.
"I don't know. You remember how wild our brother was; it could be anyone," Benjen replied, not understanding why his big brother was suddenly asking about Jon's mother.
Benjen saw the look of sadness on Ned's face and the way he was looking at their sister's tomb. His face was paler than he had ever seen before, and his lips were trembling.
Benjen suddenly felt a pang in his heart, his forehead suddenly sweating, his breath stuck in his throat, and his throat felt dryer than the deserts of Dorne. A flash of a young Jon riding a horse like they were one...
"W-Who's the mother?" Benjen questioned, a part of him not wanting to know the truth.
"L-Lyanna. He's Lyanna's boy," Ned finally said, closing his eyes and expecting the worst from his brother.
Benjen stumbled back, almost falling to the ground, his words repeating in his head as if he couldn't understand them. His heart was beating faster than ever before; a chill went through his entire body. Closing his eyes, he could almost see her in him; How have I been so blind?? He asked himself, stumbling back, his hands using the statue nearby to support himself and prevent himself from falling.
Looking back at his brother again, everything went red; without thinking twice, his knuckles met with his brother's face, sending him crashing roughly to the ground. He ignored his hand burning from hitting someone.
"WHY?" Benjen screamed in a fury, desperately wanting to understand why his brother would do something like that to Jon.
"I didn't mean for this to happen. I wanted him to be safe," Ned managed to say, his head in pain from slamming against the ground.
"Safe!" Benjen said with a burst of mocking laughter, his words sounding absurd to him.
"You raised him as a bastard. Our nephew. Lyanna's legacy. How could You?" Benjen screamed, tears rolling down his cheek; he didn't even feel them. Grabbing his brother's tunic, raising him in the air, his brother struggled for air, but Benjen ignored it.
"How Could You?" Benjen screamed desperately, crying even more. How could I have been so blind?
"Why? Why?" Benjen questioned furiously, shaking him violently, bringing his brother's face close before letting go of him.
Ned tried to catch his breath, his hand around his throat. Benjen was hugging Lyanna's statue.
"I'm sorry, Lyanna, I am so sorry," he repeated the same words repeatedly. Jon had disappeared somewhere, perhaps dead. He would never know who his mother was. Who his father was.
How could I have been so blind? How could I have been so blind? How could I have been so blind?
He beat himself mentally; his nephew was gone, probably dead somewhere. A flash of a boy desperately calling for help passed through his eyes.
Ned stood up, taking a step forward to talk to him; his hand touched his shoulder when his little brother slapped it away furiously, turning to look at him, his eyes looking at him as if he couldn't recognize the man in front of him.
"How could you?" Benjen asked slowly, his lips trembling before running off.
"Benjen," Ned called him, but his little brother didn't listen.
Later - Ned Stark
Ned was making his way to Benjen's room, the whole day had ended, and Benjen hadn't shown up, nor during dinner. He was concerned for him. He knew his brother had every right to be angry with him. He just hoped that Benjen wouldn't blame himself for it.
"Come in," He heard Benjen's voice inside, and he reluctantly opened the door. Closing the door behind him, his eyes found his brother.
Benjen was standing close to the fire, his left hand on the wall and his head resting against it, while his right hand was in his pocket. His eyes fixated on the flames.
Benjen didn't turn to him and just kept looking at the flames. "Benjen?" he called, but his answer was the silence; the only sound in the room was the noise of the wood cracking.
"Benjen, talk to me?" He asked once again, taking a step closer.
Benjen closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them again before releasing a heavy sigh.
"You know, Jon always reminds me of Lyanna; he possessed that wild spirit like her. I saw it, yet I ignored it. I simply brushed it off as my mind playing funny games in my head. Sometimes I thought that Jon had taken after his aunt. Wolf's blood is strong," Benjen spoke, pushing himself away from the wall but still looking at the flames.
"I came here hoping to fix our relationship, and I just wanted to spend time with my nephews, nieces, and my only brother left. To see them grow up. Perhaps I just wanted to see something from her again," he murmured the last part to himself, but Ned heard him.
Benjen turned to face his little brother, pulling a letter from his pocket. His eyes were burning with rage; the last time Ned had seen Benjen so angry was when the rumors were spread that Rhaegar Targaryen kidnaped Lyanna.
"I wish Lya was with us; she deserved to live; she was young and died before her time. Jon, he deserved everything, he was the last thing we had from her, and now, he's gone," he said, looking down, his hands trembling. His red and puffy, his fingernails had traces of blood beneath.
"I-I miss her too," Ned finally said, his voice cracking. A sneer escaped Benjen's mouth.
"Y-You . . . You don't even know her. You treated Jon like a bastard. Our nephew Ned. Our blood. You betrayed your own BLOOD," he screamed, now standing right in front of his brother, who, despite his rage and voice, didn't back away.
"If you would have known her, you would know there was never a chance that she was raped and kidnapped like your precious Robert claimed," Benjen said with venom in the last part.
"I know what I did was wrong. I truly wanted what was best for him. Dorne would never accept him-" he was interrupted by Benjen, who burst out laughing.
Laughing, laughing, and laughing, he finally stopped before looking at his brother as if he was mad. "Dorne, they have nothing to do with this. You wanted revenge on Lyanna for choosing Rhae-" "No," Ned screamed in denial, stepping closer to his brother.
"I-I didn't want revenge. He is my blood. I-I would never. Lyanna was my sister too." Ned spoke, almost pleadingly, to his brother, who looked at him before shaking his head.
"Who are you trying to convince, Ned? Me or yourself?" Benjen questioned; with that said, he walked back, looking at the flames again, leaving Ned speechless.
"Leave me now. I have a lot to think about," Benjen said dismissively, looking at the letter in his hands.
Tomorrow
I did the right thing; I did the right thing. I did the right thing; Ned kept telling himself.
'He was standing in a freezing place; his skin had turned blue, almost like ice; he was barely breathing. It was so cold that he couldn't even move. He didn't know where he was; it was all dark.
"Is this hell?" Ned asked, looking around but couldn't see anything. Were his eyes closed? Ned couldn't tell.
"You Lied," he knew that voice very well, the voice he hadn't heard since the rebellion.
He saw himself in the crypts of Winterfell in front of Lyanna's tomb.
He tried to move but couldn't move; so cold that his hands weren't even shaking anymore. "You Betrayed Me," he heard the voice from Lyanna's tomb.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Lyanna," he apologized, his tears freezing in his skin, yet he didn't feel pain.
He looked to his right, and she was standing, her eyes closed, but she was as beautiful as ever.
She was wearing a white dress like snow, the middle soaked in blood, and a baby in her arms.
"He's beautiful, isn't he?" she asked quietly, stroking his hair; Ned looked closer at the baby and noticed he wasn't breathing, his skin pale and Dead. "You Did This To Him," she whispered, slowly turning her head.
"YOU DID THIS TO HIM,"
Ned screamed in despair, standing in front of a sea of people, all of them throwing insults; a hit on his legs made him fall forward. His head fell on a stump, covered in dried blood.
But he wasn't alone; his family was there, each with their heads on the stump.
"No. They're Innocent," He wanted to scream, but he couldn't; no words came out. He tried and tried to move and speak. Yet, not even a whimper came out of his mouth.
"House Stark, for high treason against the Royal Family. You will receive punishment."
"Bring me their heads," a voice shouted; blood flew in the air like a waterfall as Ned released a noiseless scream. Heads of his loved ones were put on spikes for him to see right in front of him. Rickon, Bran, Arya, Sansa, Robb, and Catelyn.
Their eyes looking at him with hatred, blood tears rolling down from their cheeks.
"Nooo," he cried as a sword stabbed near his stump; he looked up from the corner of his eyes to see his executioner, it had been years, but he recognized his dark hair and his long and sharp face. Bringing down the sword, Ned said a prayer as everything went dark...
Later
Ned was breaking his fast; as usual, his children were happily talking with each other. Robb and Theon were talking in hushed tones, Arya talking with Bran; the sight of them brought a broad smile to his face. He was desperately trying to forget his nightmare. It was a dream, nothing else, he thought, trying to calm himself as his eyes landed on his brother, who was eating away from his table in complete silence.
Ned thought of trying to talk to him again when the hall doors were blasted open, Ser Rodrik walking inside, his face as pale as snow, yet smiling.
"What's the meaning of this?" Ned shouted, standing up from his seat.
"My lord. Your son, Jon Snow, is in front of the gates. He has returned...
Fun Question: What do you think about the original script that had Jon and Arya ending up together by the end, but George changed it to whoever Jon will end up with in Winds of Winter or A Dream of Spring?