Jon opened his eyes with a start. The image of the duel between Daemon Targaryen and Daemon Blackfyre still echoed in his mind. It had been an intense night, filled with emotions and revelations.
He got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. As the cold water fell on his face, he tried to gather his thoughts. The sight of the two dragons had been a reminder of the grandeur and complexity of his heritage.
After breakfast, Ned called him into his office. "Jon," his father began in a gravelly voice, "I have received word from Bear Island. The wildlings have been causing trouble for the Mormonts, and Lady Mormont has asked for our aid."
"This won't be an easy mission, Jon," Ned warned. "The wildlings are fierce and well organized. But the Starks have always been loyal to their allies."
Jon knew his father was right. The wildlings were a constant threat to the North, and it was his duty to protect his people. "I'll go with Ghost," he said. "He'll help keep me safe."
Ned nodded. "Good idea. And take some of our best men with you. Everyone's safety comes first."
So, Jon prepared to set out for Bear Island. He knew this mission would be a turning point in his life. He would have to use everything he had learned, both in his dreams and in his training, to survive and do his duty.
Jon and his party set out from Winterfell in a fleet of ships, each loaded with supplies and men. The wind howled as the ships entered the Western Sea, the waves crashing against the hulls with force. Ghost, restless, howled in the wind, feeling the vastness of the ocean.
The days passed slowly. Jon took advantage of every moment to train with his men, honing his combat and strategy skills. At night, he sat on the deck, looking at the stars and thinking about everything that had happened.
Upon arriving at Bear Island, they were greeted by Lady Mormont, a tough and experienced woman. The castle was an imposing fortress, built on a hill overlooking the sea. The wildlings had been attacking the coastal settlements, causing chaos and terror among the inhabitants.
Lady Mormont explained to Jon her plan to repel the wildlings. "We must attack their camps before they attack us," she said. "But we must be careful. The savages are cunning and fierce."
Jon and his men prepared for battle. They set out into the island's forests, following a group of Mormont scouts. The terrain was difficult, filled with swamps and rocks. Ghost led the way, his keen sense of smell picking up any sign of danger.
After several days of marching, they finally found a wildling camp. The wildling warriors were tall and burly, wearing animal skins and war-painted faces. They were armed with axes, bows, and spears.
The ambush was unleashed with the fury of a polar bear. The wildlings, roaring like beasts, charged into the Stark and Mormont lines. Jon, leading his company, found himself in the middle of the chaos. His sword, Dark Sisters, gleamed in the moonlight as he deflected axe blows and dodged spears.
Jon moved with a grace and ferocity that surprised even the most seasoned warriors. His normally calm eyes now glowed with a savage intensity. It was as if years of training and visions from his dreams had merged into a single instant of pure skill.
Among the crowd, Jon spotted Lady Mormont's daughters, Lyanna and Alys. They were as brave as their mother, fighting with a ferocity that defied their age. Jon joined them, fighting side by side. With each blow he struck, he felt a special connection to Lyanna, the eldest. There was a strength and determination in her that reminded him of Arya.
The battle raged on for hours. The warriors fought with a ferocity that seemed to have no end. Jon, wounded but tireless, fought on. At a critical moment, a giant wildling warrior attacked him with a two-handed axe. Jon narrowly dodged the blow and counterattacked, sinking dark sisters into the giant's chest with ease.
In the end, the wildlings were defeated. Bodies lay scattered across the battlefield, a testament to the ferocity of the fight. Jon was reunited with Lyanna, both covered in blood and sweat. They looked into each other's eyes, and in that moment, they felt something more than camaraderie.
The return to Bear Island was greeted with jubilation. The inhabitants of the castle, who had lived in fear of the wildlings, celebrated the victory of Jon and his men. Lady Mormont, with a smile she rarely showed, thanked them all for their bravery.
Privately, Jon spoke to Lady Mormont. "It has been a hard battle, My Lady," he said. "But thanks to your leadership and the bravery of your daughters, we have emerged victorious."
Lady Mormont nodded. "I am proud of you all, Jon. You have proven yourself a true warrior in my eyes - you are a true Stark Jon."
Later that night, a soft knock echoed at the door to Jon's chamber. When he opened it, he found Lyanna Mormont, her eyes shining in the moonlight. "I wanted to thank you personally, Jon," she said. "Without you, I don't know what would have become of us."
Jon smiled. "It was an honor to fight alongside you, Lyanna."
The conversation flowed easily, and soon they found themselves sitting on the edge of the bed, their hands intertwined. The attraction they had felt on the battlefield had intensified.
The night crept slowly, and the two shared a moment of intimacy that would mark their lives forever. At dawn, Jon woke to a sense of peace and happiness he had never experienced before.
The next morning
Sunlight filtered through the cracks in the curtains, bathing the room in a warm glow. Jon slowly opened his eyes and smiled at the sight of Lyanna asleep beside him, her face serene and relaxed.
He thought back to the previous night with a mix of happiness and wonder. He had shared an intimacy with Lyanna that he had never imagined possible. He felt connected to her in a deep and meaningful way.
Carefully, he got out of bed so as not to wake her. He made his way to the window and looked out at the landscape. Bear Island stretched out before him, majestic and wild. He felt as if he had found his place in the world.
As she returned to bed, Lyanna woke up. Her eyes opened and met Jon's. A shy smile spread across her face. "Good morning," she whispered.
Jon took her hand and kissed her gently on the forehead. "Good morning, Lyanna."
They spent the rest of the morning together, talking until lunchtime.
He made his way to the great hall where the Mormont family was already having breakfast.
As he entered, all eyes fell on him. Lady Mormont gave him a warm smile. "Good morning, Jon. It seems you had a good night."
Jon blushed slightly. "Yes, My Lady. It was very pleasant."
During breakfast, the conversation turned to plans for the future of Bear Island. Lord Mormont proposed strengthening the castle's defenses and establishing a closer alliance with the other houses of the North. Jon listened intently, contributing his own ideas and suggestions.
After breakfast, Jon sought out Lyanna. He found her in the gardens, walking a direwolf pup. He sat down beside her and took her hand. "I'm thinking of returning to Winterfell soon," he said.
Lyanna stared at him. "I know that, but she doesn't want you to go," she replied. "But I know you have duties in the North."
Jon held her tightly. "I'll write to you," he promised. "And I'll visit you as soon as I can."
Lyanna nodded, her face lit by a smile. "I hope so."
Days later
The journey back to Winterfell was long but pleasant. Jon spent hours thinking about Lyanna and the future that awaited them. He knew their departure would be difficult, but he also knew that his love for her was strong enough to overcome any obstacle.
Arriving at Winterfell, Jon was greeted with honors. The inhabitants of the fortress greeted him with joy, recognizing in him the brave warrior who had defeated the wildlings. Ned Stark, his father, hugged him tightly. "You have made a great name for House Stark, Jon," he said proudly. "Your bravery and skill in battle are impressive."
Jon informed his father about the situation on Bear Island and about his relationship with Lyanna. Ned listened attentively, nodding in approval. "Lyanna Mormont is a formidable young woman," he commented. "I am sure she will make an excellent wife.
The days that followed were a whirlwind of celebration and reunions. Jon was honored at a great banquet, where he was presented to the lords of the North. His reputation as a great warrior had spread throughout the realm.
After the intense battles and difficult decisions, Jon longed for some peace. Winterfell, with its great halls and vast grounds, was the perfect place to rest and reconnect with his family.
He spent many hours training with his brothers, Robb and Bran, in the courtyard. Swords clashed, iron rang, and laughter filled the air. With Bran, he explored the crypts of Winterfell, sharing stories of their adventures on Bear Island. And with Arya, he engaged in long sessions of bow-and-arrow practice, reminiscing about the days when they were children.
In the evenings, he gathered with the entire family around the fireplace. Sansa played the harp, while Rickon played with Ghost. Jon listened to the stories of his mother, Lyanna Stark, and felt a deep connection to his family.
One day, while strolling through the gardens, he came across Sansa. "You look more relaxed," she commented.
Jon nodded. "Yes, being here with all of you makes me very happy."
Sansa smiled. "I'm glad you're back safe and sound. And that you've found love."
Jon blushed. "Lyanna is an extraordinary woman."
Sansa nodded. "I know. I'm sure they'll be very happy together."
A few weeks later
Peace in the North was disrupted by news of a new rebellion, this time led by the ambitious and ruthless Euron Greyjoy. The Greyjoys, always eager to expand their domains, saw the North's apparent weakness as an opportunity to strike.
Ned Stark, as Lord of Winterfell, was summoned by King Robert Baratheon to join his army in the fight against the invaders. With a knot in his stomach, Ned prepared to leave. He knew that leaving Winterfell in Robb's hands would be difficult, but he trusted his eldest son's ability to lead.
Before leaving, Ned gathered his sons. "Robb, I leave you in charge of Winterfell," he said, placing his hand on his son's shoulder. "Take care of your mother, your brothers, and this castle. And remember, the strength of a Stark lies in his unity."
"And remember, Rob, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell," Ned would tell his eldest son.
Robb nodded solemnly. "I will remember that, Father."
Jon also prepared to leave. A suit of armor with the direwolf on his chest and Dark Sister holstered at his waist would be ready. Although he was not a full Stark, he felt part of that family and was willing to fight for them. "I will go with you, Father," he said. "Where you go, I will go."
Ned smiled proudly. "Thank you, Jon."
And so, Ned Stark and Jon Snow, along with a portion of the Winterfell army, set off south to join Robert Baratheon. The march was long and exhausting, but the Starks' spirit remained strong.
Weeks later
Upon arriving at King's Landing, Ned and Jon were greeted by the bustle of the capital. The tension was palpable, and preparations for war were felt in every corner. Shortly after their arrival, they were summoned to the Great Hall, where Robert Baratheon and his war council awaited them.
Tywin Lannister, with his usual coolness, dominated the room. At his side, Robert, with an overly wide smile, seemed more interested in wine than in war.
"Ned Stark is fatter hahaha," said the king, raising his goblet and laughing at his old friend "welcome. Your arrival strengthens our ranks. And you, young man," he pointed at Jon, "must be Jon Snow. I have heard much of your bravery and your skills with a sword."
Jon nodded, as he surveyed the lords present.
Ned formally introduced Jon. "My bastard, Jon Snow. He has proven himself a skilled warrior among the best in the North and a shrewd tactician with a keen eye."
Tywin Lannister raised an eyebrow. "A bastard, huh? Interesting."
The conversation quickly turned to strategy against the Greyjoys. Tywin was proposing a direct attack on the Iron Islands, while other advisors were advocating a more cautious approach.
Jon, remembering the teachings of Daemon and Aemon, dared to speak. "Forgive my boldness, Your Majesty," he began, "but I think a direct attack might be risky. The Greyjoys are expert sailors and know the waters around their islands like the back of their hand. Perhaps it would be wiser to attack their supplies and cut off their lines of communication, weakening themselves before a final assault."
Robert looked at Jon in surprise. "A bastard with interesting ideas," he commented.
Tywin Lannister frowned. "An inexperienced young man cannot dictate strategy to a war council."
Ned stepped in. "Jon has proven himself on the battlefield, and his ideas deserve consideration."
After a heated debate, the council finally agreed on a combined strategy, which included both an attack on the Iron Islands and a campaign to cut off their supplies. Jon was satisfied to see that his ideas had been taken into account.
With the strategy agreed upon, the Northern and Baratheon fleets prepared for battle. Ned, along with Robert and Tywin, would lead the main attack force, while Jon, with the Northmen, would mop up the supply line.
Leaving King's Landing, Jon felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. He knew the responsibility fell on his shoulders, but he also felt a growing confidence in his abilities. At his side, the Northmen followed loyally, inspired by his youth and bravery.
Spending a few days at sea
Sighting the enemy ships, Jon ordered his men to form a battle line. The Greyjoy fleet, smaller but faster, attacked with ferocity. Arrows flew through the air, and swords clashed on the decks of the ships.
Jon, commanding his own ship, charged into the heart of the battle. His sword, Dark Sister, gleamed in the sun as he fought off the invaders. With every move, he demonstrated his skill as a warrior, inspiring his men to follow his example.
The naval battle had reached its climax. Ships clashed, swords crossed, and war cries echoed across the sea. Amidst the confusion, Jon and Euron found themselves face to face on the decks of their respective flagships.
Euron, with his trademark raven eye and cruel grin, challenged Jon. "Come, you bastard," he shouted. "Show me what you're made of.
Jon, Dark Sister in hand, accepted the challenge. The two warriors faced each other in an epic duel, their swords clashing again and again with force. The raging sea and wild wind seemed to join the battle, whipping the combatants with waves and gusts.
From the ships of the royal fleet, Ned, Robert and Tywin watched the duel with growing tension. Robert, excited by the battle, shouted words of encouragement to Jon. Tywin, for his part, maintained an impassive expression, assessing the situation with cold precision.
The fight was fierce; the Valyrian steel armor was most bothersome for Jon, but thanks to his own sword of the same material, things were even. Jon dodged Euron's attacks with agility, while Euron, stronger and more experienced, pressed hard. The battle lasted for several minutes, and both warriors were wounded. But Jon, driven by his anger and his desire to avenge his people, he found an opening in Euron's defenses and plunged his sword into the rebel king's heart.
With a final roar, Euron collapsed to the ground. The death of the Greyjoy king demoralized his men, and the battle turned in favor of the Starks and the Baratheons.
Jon would rip the armor off Euron's corpse to keep the stupid octopus did not deserve that armor
From the royal ships, cheers erupted. Ned, eyes full of pride, addressed Robert. "My bastard has proven himself worthy of his name."
Robert nodded, raising his glass. "To the health of Jon Snow, the kingslayer."
As Jon and his men ransacked Euron Greyjoy's flagship, they discovered a veritable treasure: chests filled with gold, exquisite jewelry, and ancient weapons. Among the riches, Jon found a dragon pendant, a unique piece that reminded him of the stories told to him by Aemon Targaryen about the ancient Targaryen dynasty.
While he was absorbed in his discovery, one of his men approached him, visibly disturbed. "My lord," she said, "we have found something... strange. Deep within the ship, there is a cell. Inside, we have found a woman. She claims to be a Targaryen, the widow of the Mad King."
Jon was stunned. A Targaryen... and Jon's grandmother. The news took his breath away. Without hesitation, he made his way to the cell. Opening the door, he was met by a 45-year-old woman with silver hair and ice-cold eyes. Despite her years, her beauty was evident.
It was part of her mission to gather the Targaryens scattered around the world.
Jon sent his men out and closed the door.
"You are Aemon," the woman said in a soft voice. "Rhaegar's son."
Jon was speechless. "How... how do you know?"
"I know your hair is your mother's but your face is completely Targaryen," she replied with a sad smile. "I have heard stories about you. About your bravery, about your kindness. You are my son's son"
Jon couldn't believe what he was hearing. His grandmother, one of the last Targaryens, was alive. And he, Jon Snow or Aemon Targaryen was his father's heir.
Jon knew that his grandmother's life was in danger. Robert, with his bloodlust and his contempt for the Targaryens, would not hesitate to execute her if he found out about her existence. He had to get her to a safe place, away from the king's influence.
He gathered a small group of trusted men, warriors who had proven their loyalty during the battle. He explained to them the situation, the importance of keeping the secret and the need to get the former queen to Winterfell.
"We must take her to Winterfell," Jon said, "it is the safest place. There, she will be protected by the Starks."
The former Targaryen queen listened attentively to Jon's plan. "I appreciate your loyalty, young Aemon," she said. "But I cannot put your family in danger."
"My family is your family," Jon replied. "Besides, I need to talk to my father. We need to decide what to do next."
And so, as discreetly as possible, his men set out on their journey to Winterfell. The former Targaryen queen, wrapped in a cloak to hide her identity, traveled in a cabin on the ship protected by her men.
Jon goes to King's Landing and meets his father telling him that it was urgent to return to the North, so Robertth, upset at not being able to celebrate with them, set out on the journey to Winterfell.
Once on the road Jon tells her that he already knows her true origin Ned asks him how he found out the answer was simply dragon dreams once that was cleared up
Jon explained the situation. "Father," he said, "I know this is complicated. But I think we must protect my grandmother. She is part of our family now."
Ned nodded gravely. "I know, Jon. But we must also be cautious. Robert will not rest until he has eliminated all the Targaryens."
After a long discussion, Ned and Jon decided that the former queen should remain in Winterfell, hidden from the eyes of the world. And so, the last Targaryen found a refuge in the North, far from the intrigues and dangers of the Seven Kingdoms.
Days later
The return of Jon and Ned to Winterfell was an event that moved the entire North. The inhabitants of the castle and the surrounding peasants received them with cheers and ovations. Jon, as the young warrior who had defeated Euron Greyjoy and saved the North, had become a legend
Catelyn had a feast held in her husband's honor, and even though she didn't like him, she did it for Jon as well
During the feast, Ned, proud of his son's exploits and his family's bravery, toasted the future of the North. "We have faced many dangers," he said, raising his glass, "but we have always emerged victorious. Thanks to your loyalty and your bravery, the North is safe."
The crowd responded with loud applause.
The next day
At dawn, Jon left Winterfell and headed for a secluded spot in the surrounding woods. He knew that his grandmother, the former Targaryen queen, spent her mornings in a secret clearing, enjoying the quiet of nature.
Arriving at the clearing, he found the old woman sitting beneath an ancient oak tree, her eyes fixed on the horizon. He approached her cautiously, not wanting to interrupt her moment of peace.
"Good morning, Grandmother," Jon said.
The former queen turned to him with a smile. "Good morning, Jon. How did you sleep?"
"Well," he replied. "I've been thinking a lot about everything that's happened."
They sat down together on the grass and began to talk. The former queen shared with Jon stories about her youth on the Iron Throne, about her love for Rhaegar, and about the tragedy that had engulfed her family. Jon listened intently, fascinated by the stories of her past.
"This place is very beautiful," the former queen said, pointing to the forest. "It reminds me of the gardens in King's Landing."
Jon nodded. "Winterfell is very different from King's Landing, but it has its own beauty."
For hours, they talked about the past, present, and future. Jon told his grandmother about his life in the North, about his relationship with Ned Stark, and about his dreams for the future. The former queen listened to him with patience and wisdom, offering advice and encouragement.
At the end of their conversation, Jon promised her that he would always protect her. "No matter what happens," he said, "I will always be here for you."
The former queen smiled at him. "Thank you, Jon. You are a good grandson."
Jon and his grandmother continued their conversation in the beautiful northern landscape. The young Stark, increasingly intrigued by his past, decided to ask what intrigued him the most:
"Grandma," Jon began, "I have always heard stories about my father. They say he was a very brave and noble man. Can you tell me more about him?"
The former Targaryen queen smiled sadly. "Rhaegar," he sighed, "was an exceptional man. Intelligent, compassionate, and deeply loyal to his family. He was a great musician and a formidable warrior. Many considered him the perfect prince."
"What was his personality like?" Jon asked.
"Rhaegar was a man of few words, but when he spoke, his words were wise and full of meaning. He had a great ability to inspire others. He was a born leader."
Jon nodded, trying to picture his father. "I've always wanted to meet him," he admitted. "I feel like I've missed out on so much."
The former queen placed a hand in Jon's. "I know it's hard, Jon. But you must know that Rhaegar would have loved you very much. He was a good and just man."
"Why did he have to die?" Jon asked, his voice filled with pain.
The former queen sighed deeply. "The war," she replied. "The war took many of those I loved. Rhaegar was one of the victims."
Jon fell silent, thinking about his grandmother's words. He felt connected to his father in a way he had never before imagined.
After his emotional conversation with his grandmother, Jon returned to Winterfell with his heart filled with new emotions. The connection he had made with his past had driven him to seek a new beginning, one that reflected both his Stark heritage and his Targaryen legacy.
With this idea in mind, he made his way to the blacksmith in Winterfell. The man, an old acquaintance of the Stark family, greeted him with a smile. Jon showed him the armor he had taken from Euron Greyjoy. It was an impressive piece, forged from Valyrian steel and adorned with Greyjoy symbols.
"I want you to modify it," Jon told him. "I want it to be armor that represents me, not Euron."
The smith examined the armor carefully. "It will be difficult work, but I think I can do it," he replied. "Tell me, what do you want me to change?"
Jon thought for a moment. "I want all the Greyjoy symbols removed and some elements added that remind me of my family."
The smith nodded. "We can do that. How about adding a direwolf on the chest, as a symbol of the Starks."
And a glutton too" Jon would tell him
"Understood Jon" said the blacksmith
And so the blacksmith began his work. Day after day, Jon visited the forge to see how the modification of his armor was progressing. As the armor took shape, Jon felt more and more connected to it. It was more than just a piece of metal; it was a symbol of his identity, his past and his future.
Days later
When the armor was finished, the Winterfell blacksmith called Jon. With a mixture of pride and nervousness, Jon headed to the forge. Seeing his new armor, he was amazed. It was a work of art: the Stark direwolf stood majestically on his chest, while a dragon, symbol of the Targaryens, stretched across his back. The colors chosen were those of the Stark house, but with subtle touches of red and black that recalled the Targaryens with a cape covering the shield Targaryen for now and only the Stark wolf was visible
Unable to contain his excitement, Jon quickly dressed. The armor fit his body perfectly, without taking away his mobility. He felt strong, protected and ready for any challenge.
With the armor on, Jon went to visit his grandmother. He found her sitting in the same clearing where they used to talk. Seeing him, her eyes filled with pride.
"You're stunning, Jon," she said. "The armor suits you very well."
Jon smiled. "I wanted it to represent both families."
The former Targaryen queen stroked the dragon that adorned the back of the armor. "Rhaegar would be proud of you," she said.
Jon nodded, feeling a deep connection with his father. "Thank you, Grandma. For everything."
With his heart full of pride and determination, Jon returned to Winterfell Castle. The new armor was not only a piece of protection, but a symbol of his identity, a fusion of his two bloodlines. He felt ready to face any challenge that came his way.
As he arrived at the great hall, the banquet had already begun. The fragrance of food and the sound of laughter filled the air. His family and the lords of the North greeted him with warm greetings. Catelyn, his adoptive mother, looked at him with a mixture of pride and affection.
Since Ned told her the truth, Catelyn's attitude towards him had changed a lot. She now treated him as one of her sons.
"Jon, your armor is impressive," she said, coming closer to examine it more closely. "You are quite the warrior."
Jon smiled. "Thank you, mother."
After the great banquet, Jon goes to his room to rest.
Thanks for reading, suggestions are welcome.