Jonothor Targaryen - The Green Dragon Chapter 7 Princesses & Past Sins

Hello Everyone!

Chapter 8 : 'Brothers'

Chapter 9 : 'Two sides of the Same Coin

Chapter 10 : 'The Sea Snake and The Queen Who Never Was.'

Chapter 11 : 'A Disgusting Duty'

Chapter 12 : 'The Monster of Dragonstone'

Chapter 13: 'Bastard'

Chapter 14: 'The Scheming Mind of a Targaryen Prince'

Chapter 15: 'The Patriarch of House Targaryen'

are available on

w w w . p a t r(e)on (slash) MonsieurLAH

Enjoy reading !

Chapter VII : Princesses and Past sins

Jon's life was many things, but easy was not one of them. Never in a million years would he have ever imagined that studying and training could be relaxing and relieving. Yet, those were his only stress relievers, and Gods did he need them with all the things he had to take care of in this new life of his. Perhaps he was trying too hard, perhaps the fact that he was part of a family for the first time since he had left Winterfell had created feelings that were too strong to ignore. Whatever was going on inside of him was now fueling his life, and making the future. Jon was now nine years of age, and the past three years had been difficult for him. As always, he had been overly concerned to do the 'right thing' as often as possible, this 'forced' him to be a perfect son for Alicent, a good Uncle for Jacaerys and a good brother for each of his siblings. The last part hadn't been as much of a success as he had hoped, Aegon being Aegon.

If there was one person that Jon couldn't understand, it was Aegon. The former Lord Commander of the Night's watch knew what the second of his name used to be, yet, he also knew that no one was born evil, and that was why he had believed he could change his twin for the best. How wrong he had been.

With each passing year, Aegon became more and more jealous of his twin. And said twin could not really blame him for that, after all, he was perfectly aware that he was everyone's favorite. That included their two younger siblings. Helaena and Aemond, now six and five, followed their oldest brother like two lost puppies whenever they saw him. To say that Jon did not enjoy their presence would have been a complete lie, for Jon loved them almost as much as he loved his mother. It was hard for the Targaryen prince to have a minute for himself with his youngest siblings on his heels whenever he was studying or training. Helaena craved his attention, she always wanted him to read her stories and to teach him the Valyrian tongue. No matter how good her handmaidens and the maester were, Helaena would pout all the way through the story or the lesson if it was anyone else than her brother teaching her. Alicent had feared the worst when her only daughter had turned away the septa's lessons, however, the Queen had ended up shaking her head when she had realized that Helaena simply wanted her brother or her mother as a teacher, and since Jon simply refused to teach her anything about the Faith, Alicent took it upon itself to teach her. It soon became one of the Queen's favorite tasks. Even though she regretted teaching Helaena the Doctrine of Exceptionalism. Now her daughter not so secretly started to see her brother differently, fortunately Jon had been there to calm her ardors.

Aemond had been a breath of fresh air in Jon's life, the little boy who had become the One-eye prince that had burned down the Riverlands in Jon Snow's history book, had taken Jonothor Targaryen as his role model. Aemond did not just want to be taught by his oldest brother, he wanted to become exactly like his oldest brother. So much so that he had demanded to be taught how to read despite only being five year old. Viserys had refused him, the maester was already very busy treating his King's sickness and teaching the princes and princess, he had no time to give Aemond extra-lessons. Fortunately for the little prince, his mother had decided to teach him himself, for she had been reassured by her little boy's ambition and did not want him to end up like Aegon.

Aegon… Aegon was always angry, he hated everything and everyone. He hated everything because Jon seemed to be able to do everything, and he hated everyone because everyone preferred his twin over him. The nine year old prince had tried to become better than his twin, he had trained harder than Jon, studied longer than Jon, and had even dressed fancier than Jon. All in vain, for no matter how hard he tried, Aegon never came close to Jon's level, and that drove him mad. Aegon even hated his own face, because he couldn't see it as his face, it wasn't his, it was Jon's! Everyone who had mistaken him for his twin had proven that fact. The only thing that was Aegon's, and Aegon's alone, was Sunfyre. The Golden dragon was Aegon's greatest pride, for it was considered to be the most beautiful dragon ever seen in Westeros. Jon's dragon, Ghost, who was simply white as snow, was little challenge. And yet… despite that, everyone ended up preferring Ghost to Sunfyre. Because of one particular event.

One day, the little Princess had escaped her handmaidens -again-, to look for her oldest brother. Since she couldn't find him in the Red Keep, she had asked one of the Kingsguards to bring her to the Dragon Pit, where she expected her brother to be. Ser Willis Fell had been the unfortunate White Cloak who had obeyed his six year old Princess without asking questions, something he would never do again after this event.

Their trip to the Dragonpit had been unsuccessful, for the only thing they found was the sleeping figure of Ghost. The White dragon did not sleep in the Dragonpit contrary to every other dragon, it had a little nest on a small hill where it slept most of the time. Ghost only entered the Dragon stable on rainy days, but had never been chained since its birth. The Dragon Keepers had never seen such a peaceful dragon in all their experience, he was the only one who had never worried them, and it is only thanks to its good behavior and Jon's numerous pleas that it had never been chained.

Helaena had been so frustrated that her long trip to the Dragonpit had ended up fruitless, immediately went to the sleeping white dragon while Ser Willis had been looking elsewhere for his eldest Prince.

When the kingsguard had finally realized that his princess had sneaked away, and was now less than ten feet away from Ghost's sleeping form, his skin had turned pale, and he had rushed as fast as he could to catch the toddler before the Dragon realized that a walking little snack was coming his way.

Unfortunately for him, the ringing of his armor immediately snapped the Dragon's eyes open. And despite his peaceful reputation, Ghost's crimson eyes were the most terrifying thing Ser Willis Fell had ever seen in his life. Despite only being eight year old, Ghost was larger than Syrax had been at his age. The white dragon had been very angry to have be awaken in the middle of his nap by a noise as annoying as the ringing of an armor, however, he had cooled himself down the moment he had seen Helaena's bright smile.

"Hi Ghost!" She had said, waving her hand joyfully. "Do you know where Jon is?"

Ghost eyed the little princess for a few seconds, then went back to his nap. Ser Willis let out the louder sigh of relief he ever had.

"Princess." He whispered as he came closer to his charge."The Prince is not here, we should go back to the Red Keep and leave this Dragon alone."

Helaena stomped her foot on the ground in response, she had been so frustrated! She had known for sure that Ghost always knew where Jon was and she had wanted to find Jon! So, in front of Ser Willis' horrified face, she had started climbing on the back of the white dragon who rose its head in protest.

"I wanna see Jon!" She had demanded as she wrapped her tiny arms around the beast's neck. "Bring me to Jon! Soves! To Jon, Ghost! Jonothor!"

Ghost cried in protest as Ser Willis could not find it in himself to move his legs. The only thing he did was watching the Dragon's tail wrapping around the Princess' waist. He had tried to step forward but Ghost had roared at him, startling him and made him loose his footing. Jon's dragon had then proceeded to place Helaena on its back rather than on its neck. After he had made sure the grip of his tail had been firm, and that the Princess had properly clang to some of the spikes on his back, he spread his wings and took over as Ser Willis desperately called for his charge and as Helaena screamed in delight.

Ser Willis Fell would never forget the sheer terror he had felt when he had believed that his head would be on a spike by the morrow.

(-)(-)(-)

Jon had been training with Ser Criston Cole everyday since he could lift a sword, and today was no exception. You could say anything you wanted about the Stormlander, but he was a far better. instructor than Ser Rodrick Cassel would ever be. Despite his past life experience, Jon had never met a better swordsman than the kingsguard, and that made him realize that he had a lot more to learn than he had believed in the first place.

His training sessions used to attract a crowd, but Jon had always been a private person and training was one of his few stress relievers. So he had asked his mother for private lessons, away from curious eyes, a request granted by Alicent. Thanks to the Queen, Jon and Ser Criston had been training in the Royal Garden near the weirwood tree for the past year, giving them plenty of privacy to train harshly and speak plainly. And both of them enjoyed those privileges more than they expected. Jon's relationship with Ser Criston was… weird from the Prince's point of view. As a child playing with Robb in the courtyard of Winterfell, Jon Snow had impersonated Criston Cole as one of their villains. But the day Ser Criston started teaching Jonothor Targaryen how to wield a sword, the latter's opinion about the stormlander changed. Ser Criston was a monstrous taskmaster, his training was harsher than anything Ser Rodrick had ever put him to, yet, and to the young Prince's greatest surprise, Criston Cole was far more preoccupied by his charge's feelings than Ser Rodrick ever had been. And as the years passed, Jon found himself closer to the White Cloak than he'd ever imagined he would be. Ser Criston was always quick to praise and criticize him whenever he deemed it necessary, he could be as harsh as he could be understanding. And he often sat by his student's side to talk about what was on the boy's mind. Jon was thankful for that, even if he hated it when the Kingsguard hinted that he would be a wonderful King. And even more so when he 'innocently' pointed out the fact that Jacaerys was brown of hair and had brown eyes.

The Iron Throne was by far, the most dangerous and ugliest thing Jon had ever seen in his life. The Prince had known, since the first time he had laid eyes upon it, that he would never, ever desire that thing. For even though the vast majority of the Realm saw it as the symbol of ultimate power, Jon could only see the promise of a miserable life filled with pain, lickspittles and backstabbers. Truth be told, Jon was unable to understand why so many people wanted that thing, what he understood, however, was why people wanted him on that thing. The main reason was: because they did not want Rhaenyra as Queen. The second reason was because he was a boy, the third reason was because he wasn't 'purely' Valyrian, the fourth reason was because he was considered a prodigy, the fifth reason was because many lords hoped to make their daughter a queen.

None of those reasons were good enough for Jon, so he simply changed the subject whenever the Iron Throne was mentioned in a conversation. Unless it was his mother who had brought it up, in that case, Jon would make time to speak with her. But his mother was special, the rest of the Red Keep was not.

As he was drinking water from his canteen and wiping the sweat off his face with a towel, Ser Criston was picking up the blunted tourney swords and carefully studying the face of his Prince. He let out a long sigh and lightly cuffed him behind the head.

"My Prince broods too much while there is no need to." He joked as he himself, drank from a canteen. "It is a lovely day, and you've done well, so, has something happened? Or are you -again- losing your mind in one of those deep subjects you do not wish to talk about?"

"The latter." Jon answered in a monotonous tone. "Sorry, Ser."

Criston Cole smiled and ruffled his Prince's hair, Jon never liked when he did that, it reminded him too much of the few special moments Jon Snow had shared with Ned Stark.

"There was a time when such behaviour would have worried me." The Kingsguard admitted. "But now, I know your brooding is proof of your maturity, so I don't mind if you keep things from me. That you don't keep too many things from your mother is all I ask."

"I usually don't." Jon answered as he frowned. "How is brooding a sign of maturity?"

"Because smart people are full of doubts, my Prince. Idiots are simply full of themselves."

Jon actually smiled at that, and beamed a little.

"I could just be sad." He replied.

"You don't look sad when your mother is praising you, or when your little siblings are running after you. Are you truly sad, my prince?"

Jon sighed.

"Not really," he admitted after a moment, "I shouldn't be sad anyway, I don't have reasons to be sad."

Now Ser Criston rose an eyebrow.

"You are sad." He realized. "Why is that?"

The Targaryen Prince shook his head, then proceeded to look at the horizon.

"I simply wonder if there are things I can do… or things I could have done to… stabilize my family."

The Kingsguard rose an eyebrow, and knelt in front of the boy.

"Are you talking about your sister?" He asked.

Jon almost rolled his eyes, of course Ser Criston would think about his sister first.

"Actually… I was thinking about Aegon."Jon replied, on his guards. "Rhaenyra and I have been able to mend our relationship after Jacaerys' birth. But I don't know what to do about Aegon… He hates me."

"No he doesn't…"

"Yes he does." Jon cut in. "Don't sugarcoat this, Ser Criston, Aegon despises me because we have the same face, but not the same skills. Therefore he believes he will always be the 'lesser' twin… Had he been a year younger that I, things would have been easier."

The stormlander crossed his arms, and began to think.

"To be fair, my prince… do you mind if I speak freely?"

"Do so."

"I'm a commoner." He stated bluntly. "My father was a steward and my mother was no noble lady. In order to become who I am today, I had to work harder than others, train harder than others, survive where others have died, and defeat people that believed themselves to be better than me. Your uncle had been one of those people."

Jon held back a laugh, Ser Criston and he shared an amused grin.

"People, nobles and commoners alike, despised me because I was better than them, and they had no excuse to justify their failure. Your brother is like those men to me; he is your twin, yet, he is clearly not as good as you are. Had he been more serious in his studies and his training, had he not started the moment he had realized he was being praised for your accomplishments, perhaps he would be as good as you."

"He was a toddler."

"An actual toddler." Jon wanted to add, but couldn't.

"So were you." Came Ser Criston's predictable answer. "But to be perfectly honest my prince, I admit without shame that I would have never imagined a boy as talented, smart and kind as you existed before your fourth nameday. A prince least of all."

"What do you mean?"

Ser Criston looked hesitant for a second, he looked around to make sure they were alone.

"When I had arrived in the capital, I used to admire the Targaryens because, like many of the common people I thought they were gods made of flesh."

"That was stupid." Jon said without thinking.

Ser Criston actually laughed, then he cuffed his little prince.

"I was naive." He corrected with a half-severe tone. "Not when I went against your uncle in… the late Prince Baelon's tourney. I admit without shame that he was the greatest foe I have ever faced even to this day."

"But you defeated him." Jon remembered.

"But I defeated him." The stormlander confirmed. "Because he got arrogant and turned his back on me. That's why my image of the Targaryen's 'godliness' was not too fractured even after my victory. It was his mistake that had costed him the win, not my skills."

"I see." Jon nodded.

"But still…" Ser Criston went on. "I felt so galvanized by my victory, that I dared asking your sister for her she gave it to me."

The Kingsguard let out a long sigh in order to get his emotions under control.

"You have to understand, my prince; I was no one. A steward's son from the Stormlands, and yet I had defeated Prince Daemon Targaryen and won the favour of the Princess Rhaenyra. I could have died the next day without … well my dream kept going on… A few days after your sister was made the official heir of King Viserys, she introduced me into the Kingsguard, personally."

"Why?" Jon asked. "I mean, today I understand why, but at the time except for a win against my uncle, what else did you have that the others hadn't?"

"Military experience." Cole replied quite proudly. "All the others knights had been tourney knights, I was the only one who had ever seen a battlefield."

Jon frowned deeply when he heard that.

"You can't be serious." He said in disbelief.

"But I am. And despite all the tourney knights with flashy names, your sister chose me to defend her."

"A wise pick." Jon nodded before he frowned again. "Where are you going with this story?"

"You will see. Your sister was, in my eyes at least, the greatest woman I had ever met. The most beautiful for sure, and she had granted me the privilege of being her sworn shield. I had risen higher than any Cole ever had, this white cloak, it is my greatest pride but…"

Ser Criston hesitated, he knew his Prince's deep affection for his sister and feared the worst should he come to know what had happened between Rhaenyra and him. Perhaps he ought to hide this part of the story.

"Your sister…" He started before he caught himself."No… It was my fault… I… I sullied my cloak and the Princess… She… She did not care…"

"You bedded her?"

Jon had read about the supposed affair between Rhaenyra and her sworn protector in a history book back when he had been Jon Snow. What hadn't been clear, though, was the circumstances in how it happened.

Ser Criston looked absolutely horrified, now he was left with no other choice than to confess his sin one more time.

"I… did…"

"Did you seduce her? Or did she?"

"I… it should not matter."

"It does matter." Jon pressed as his thoughts went back to Ygritte. "I did the same mistake as he."

Ser Criston breathed again.

"She did." He confessed, his tone shameful. "And I was unable to repel her…"

A long and heavy silence followed that declaration, Jon pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What happened after that?"

Ser Criston shook his head, his voice no longer hesitant. His Prince was his mother's son, he could understand.

"I proposed Rhaenyra."

Jon burst out laughing before putting his hand on his mouth. The Kingsguard's face turned into an upset grimace.

"Sorry." Jon quickly apologized despite his obvious amusement. "My apologies Ser, but you should have known better."

The stormlander sighed to ease his temper.

"Perhaps," he admitted,"yet I couldn't see any other way to regain my honor. I had committed a sin, sullied my white cloak, tainted my honor… I thought that I could fix it all if I were to marry your sister…"

"And you expected to become King of the Seven Kingdoms in the process?"

"What? No, I suggested that your sister and I escape to the Free Cities where we could have married and live in peace…"

"Oh…" Jon understood. "That was very noble of you, Ser, but… uh… How do I put this…? Rhaenyra is Rhaenyra."

A statement that no one could possibly counter, not even Ser Criston who simply nodded in defeat.

"You are right, my Prince.I… You don't understand… Rhaenyra… She gave me everything I had ever dreamed about and even more. Yet… she pushed me into sullying everything I had, and for what? A moment of pleasure? She treated me like a whore and offered me no chance at redemption. That's all it took… She destroyed me… Had it not been for your mother, I would have killed myself."

"My mother?" Jon was surprised. "What did she do?"

Ser Criston actually smiled when he remembered that moment, the Queen had truly been his angel of mercy that night.

"She forgave me." He whispered. "She actually forgave me and convinced me to redeem myself. Queen Alicent… She…"

He sighed again.

"She is the one that showed me true virtue, her mercy broke the image I had of the Targaryens. And for a long time, my resentment for Rhaenyra kept growing, for I considered her to be spoilt and vile for what she did to me. Forgive me my prince, but your father's and uncle's behaviors did nothing but comfort my new opinion regarding Targaryens. That was until you started growing. Your hard work, your dedication to your studies, your determination to take care of your family despite your young age and each of their flaws… You have inspired me, my Prince. You and your mother. You've restored my faith in the future and gave me a new purpose. And for that, I thank you."

Jon was speechless when he heard those words. He did not feel like he had accomplished a lot, yet, to hear someone like Ser Criston Cole thank him for his dedication to his studies and his good behavior and to hear that he had inspired him into becoming better… Jonothor could not deny that he felt quite proud of himself. Even though he still had much to do and learn.

"So…" Ser Criston spoke again. "From my point of view, your brother will never be able to reach your level of skills given his mediocre behaviour of spoiled child. He needs to be disciplined and taught how to better himself, instead of solely focusing on you. But I fear your Father will never give him the proper discipline he needs, and your mother loves him too much to try something like that."

"Are you suggesting that I discipline him myself, Ser Criston?He would hate me even more."

"You are right, my Prince." The knight sighed. "I wish I could take care of it myself, but I can't despite Prince Aegon's best interest. Perhaps your Grandfather, Ser Otto Hightower, would fine the right method to discipline him should he come back to the capital."

Jon shook his head.

"That is not going to despises him and Father prevented him from coming to each of my name days or to meet his new grandchildren. Should Lyonel Strong resign his position in the future, then perhaps…"

Jon interrupted himself when he felt Ghost was looking for him, despite his initial surprise, he immediately communicated his location to his dragon and frowned at the unexpected arrival of his oldest friend. Usually, Ghost only left the dragon pit when its rider warged inside its mind or when he wanted to fly on his own to explore the Crownlands. Jon had ridden Ghost for the first time at the age of eight. Rhaenyra herself had insisted on taking her brother to fly for the first time. It had been a moment that Jonothor would cherish for the rest of his life, even though his 'unorthodox' way to fly on his dragon's back had impressed his sister. Jon had refused to use a whip despite Rhaenyra's and the DragonKeepers' recommandation. Never in his life would Jon ever whip Ghost, and why would he need to do so anyway? He and his mount were one and the same, he only needed a thought to tell his friend where to go. Their impressive performance during their first flight had pushed Rhaenyra and Syrax to show the hatchlings what the she dragons were capable of. And the lesson had ended up in a long race to Dragonstone won by the heir to the Iron Throne. Rhaenyra had then proceeded to show her little brother the ancestral fortress of their family, including the painted table of Aegon the Conqueror. Jon would never forget that day, and had truly been grateful to his big sister for sharing it with him.

However, never before had the White Dragon left the Dragonpit specifically to look for its rider. This particular circumstance was enough to make Jon suspicious that something was going on, and when he spotted his scaled-winged friend… he couldn't believe who he was seeing on its back.

Helaena had laughed and screamed in delight the whole flight, she encouraged Ghost to go faster but the Dragon was not hers to command. The fact that its tail was still wrapped around her waist should have made that clear, but Helaena was six years old, she was encouraging the beast, not commanding it, and as she was dragonless, she couldn't possibly understand what Dragons truly were… for now.

As Ghost started to descend she spotted the weirwood tree and a white cloak from afar, she squinted her eyes and finally identified the brother she had been looking for all day! She waved her hand to greet him but he did not greeted her back so she bit the inside of her cheek in a pout.

Once Ghost had landed in the garden, it took Helaena off its back using his tail and placed her in front of her brother. The Princess rushed to hug her older sibling as the latter suddenly felt very tired.

"Hi Jonothor! I told Ghost I was looking for you so he brought me here! What are you doing? Why are you hiding to train?"

"Helaena…" Jon sighed deeply while Ser Criston was hiding a chuckle behind his hand. "Where do you come from?"

"The Dragonpit."

"And where is Ser Willis?"

"In the Dragonpit? I think…"

Jon rolled his eyes as he patted his sister's head, he did not have the strength to ground her, their mother would have to do it herself.

Ser Criston shook his head in amusement as Ghost was now making itself comfortable to sleep in the garden, something Jon could not tolerate as he sent a mental message to his friend.

The White Dragon let out a cry in protest, and even had the audacity to demand something.

"You want a snack?" Jon repeated outloud what his dragon was thinking deep down. "Now?"

Ghost yawned in response and proceeded to go to sleep, Jon had no idea how to explain the utter nonsense that was happening to him.

"We should ask the kitchen girls to bring some chickens, my prince." Ser Criston advised, not letting his amusement shown. "And we should probably informed the Queen and the Lord Commander that the Princess evaded her escort. And we should tell Ser Willis that the Princess is all right."

"Do we have too?" Helaena mumbled, disappointed.

"Yes Helaena. We do." Jon said as he freed himself from her embrace. "Why were you looking for me anyway?"

The Princess shrugged her shoulders.

"I was bored." She said as if it was the most obvious thing in the World. "I wanted you to read me a story."

Jonothor's eyes popped out of their sockets.

"You went to the Dragonpit and rode back on Ghost just because you wanted a story?" He asked in disbelief.

Helaena was very confused by his behavior, had she done something wrong?

"Yes?" She replied hesitantly, unsure if it was the right answer or not.

Jon plunged his head in his palm to let out the longest tired sigh he had ever let out in both his lives while Ser Criston was struggling - and failing- not to laugh.

And Rhaenyra thought he used to be a terror.