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Jon’s POV
I finish talking to the masked man about where to camp his forces then he leaves. I am somewhat overcome with frustration in the fact that I was about to tell Sansa who I truly am and getting interrupted even if it is for more numbers to be added to the battle to come at the moment.
Then again, that masked man said that they have at least over fifty thousand in their forces so that is something that is ok to interrupt for now. I will need to tell Sansa whenever there is another chance. I know I will have a chance at the festival.
I know I need to see Daenerys while I have a moment to do so. I walk all the way to Daenerys tent. The Dothraki allow me to enter. I walk in to see her in bed. She is laying on right side of the bed with the fur blankets over her. I see that she is sound asleep. I quietly sit by her side then softly take her hand.
Daenerys sighs in feeling my hand around hers. She barely opens her eyes to see me. I cannot resist smiling in her eyes sparkling at the sight of me.
“Jon… This is a nice way to wake up.” She whispers in such happiness.
She takes her hand from mine then rests it on my left cheek. I know that all of my feelings are everywhere however this feels so right now. Her fingers brush against my beard. I feel my heart beating fast in feeling her touch. I breathe deeply as I stroke her moonlight hair hanging over her left cheek.
I cup her face in realizing that we are so close together that my upper lip brushes against her upper lip that felt as sweet as the smell of honey. The sound of her breathing as my heart is racing makes me feel like I am under an enchantment. I slowly withdrawn, stopping myself. I cannot be with her now like I once was especially that she is my aunt through blood. Daenerys’s chest heaves when I withdrawn. I still have her hand in mine.
“Missandei told me that you are not feeling well. Is there anything I can get for you?”
“Just this alone is all I need right now. I am feeling a little under the weather due to being warm blooded. The cold does not agree with dragons. Essos is not known for any sort of cold weather or people such as the North. I knew that they would be a stubborn ass but nothing like they are, Jon.”
“I know. I know. They are dead set in what happened by the terrible acts of your father. My grandfather…” I freeze in saying my last word to her. I lean back realizing that The Mad King is my grandfather; another truth to wrap my head around.
I exhale slowly as Daenerys sits up in the bed. “I don’t remember much about him but I do know a few things about your father, my brother.” My eyes look to her when I hear her say this.
“Would you like to know about him?” Daenerys asks me.
I shake my head yes to her as I move in closer to her like I am a child ready to hear a good story.
"In my younger years, growing up with my other brother, Viserys, he told me some things about him and I believed him since he was all I had. I always wished I knew my brother, Rhaegar in any way possible. And now I see it."
I wondered what she meant by this. "What do you mean?"
"During my time in foreign lands, I meet a man named Ser Barristan. He knew my brother, your father, Rhaegar. He told me that he use to walk with him outside of the Red Keep with the people of King's Landing. He liked to walk among the people and to sing to them."
I never thought I would hear those words that I cannot help but chuckle a little at the thought of it. I ask to ensure what I heard, "He sang to them?"
She smiles while telling me, "Yes. Ser Barristan told me Rhaegar would pick a spot on the hook or the street of Seas and he'd sing. Just like all of the other musicians on the street."
"And what did Ser Barristan do?" I ask.
"He made sure no one would kill him. And he collected the money." She tells me. I look at her even greater when she said this. "He liked to see how much he could make."
"He was good?" I ask smiling at her.
"He was very good according to Ser Barristan. I never knew about this myself until he told me. Before that, my other brother, Viserys told me that Rhaegar was good at killing people. But Ser Barristan told me that he never liked killing. He loved singing." Daenerys softly says, recalling her memory in learning this about Rhaegar.
I feel a sense of calm, even joy that I share something in common with my birth father. He was good at killing people just like me but we never enjoyed what we are good at.
"What did he do with the money?"
"He told me that he once gave it to the next singer down the street. Another time, he gave it to an orphanage. Another time, he got horribly drunk."
I chuckle and I could see myself doing that as well. I try to imagine what my brother looked like but for some reason I keep on picturing him with brown hair, not the same moonlight hair Daenerys has. I stop trying to picture what he looked like and asked, "What else did he tell you about him?"
"He told me that when he led his men at the battle of The Trident, men died for him because they believed in him, because they loved him. Not because of some of them were bought from a slavers auction. He told me that he fought beside the Last dragon on that day, he bleed beside him."
It dawned on me that Robert Baratheon killed him in that battle. Robert Baratheon killed my father because of the hate he had for what he thought Rhaegar did to my mother. He was lead to believe that Rhaegar kidnapped and raped her but he never did. He loved her and she loved him. They loved each other.
Daenerys saw the look on my face. "Ser Barristan knew him well. He said he was the finest man he ever met. The finest man he knew. And I told him that I wished I had known him because he was not the last dragon."
She takes her hands and cups them around my face. "And now, my wish came true. I do know my brother in some way through you. You have his fighting spirit and your mother's heart and beauty."
I smile when she says this to me and I could already feel my eyes fill with a few tears. I put my hands on hers as she continues to gaze at me.
She chuckles saying, "I thought I was the only one left in the world. The only Targaryen and here you are. All this time you were here in the North. And yet, I was all the way across in Essos. You and I were both alone in the world. I am so sorry that I never knew about you. If I had, I would have tried to find you so neither of us could be alone like we were.”
I see sadness fill her sweet face. I brush my fingers under her chin softly like I was touching the pedals of a winter rose. She gazes at me in regret of never knowing about me no more than I never knew about her being my only family member of my father’s blood. She should not feel like this.
“You didn’t know, Dany. Neither of us did. All that matters is that we are here with each other now.” I whisper to her in embracing my hand tighter around her hand.
"We have each other." She whispers back with happiness in her voice.
We rest our foreheads on one another. Then we hear her children up outside roaring to one another. We chuckle as if they knew what we were talking about in some way.
“Have you been to Rhaegal since your last encounter? It appears like the two of you would make quite the pair.”
“No. And I would have no idea what to do around him.” I tell her with a sense of fear in my voice since the size of the dragons still frightens me.
“You have no need to be afraid of him. Just go to him and see what happens.” Daenerys says.
“What about you? Is there anything I can get for you?”
“Jon, go. I’ll be alright. I asked some of my men to go hunting so I can have something to eat. If not, goat or chicken it is for me. Go to him. I will well looked after.” She encourages me.
“That you certainly are. I have seen the devotion of the North but I feel like the Dothraki top the devotion to you. You are a Goddess to them.”
“You are not wrong.” She chuckles in my words. “Now go to Rhaegal.” She playfully pushes me off the bed. I chuckle in how playful she is toward me. I like it.
I get up but stop before I leave the tent. I gaze back at her. “Between the two of us and no one else, call me Aegon.”
“Alright, Aegon…” Daenerys says as her eyes shine like stars. I smile back to her for a moment then she says my real name again. I thought the sound of that name would make me sick to my stomach but it does not.
“Say my name again.” I secretly beg to hear it again just as she did the first time.
“Aegon…” Daenerys whispers it exactly like she did the first time.
We smile to each other before I leave her tent. I was expecting to feel strange being called Aegon but I don’t. It is an alright feeling between the two of us. I am more than glad of how Daenerys is taking all of this.
I do fear if she will wonder if I will make a claim for the Iron Throne. However I could give a damn less about that uncomfortable described chair even though I have never seen it with my own eyes, just stories of it. I will make sure to tell her at the festival and prove it as well.
Daenerys has fought years to claim the Iron Throne. I will not stand in her way. I will only remain the King in the North, nothing else. Daenerys has earned it more than I can possibly imagine. I hope that she will sit on the Iron Throne and make Westeros a better place than Cersei plans to do so.
I am at the edge of Daenerys camp line when I spot Sansa and all of the Northern Lords at the entrance of Winterfell waiting for me to come back. I can tell by how they are acting from a distance that they appear displeased. They want to voice their thoughts about Daenerys, or her forces or anything that does not suit their mindsets.
I honesty do not even have the honor to go over to them. My thoughts go to the thought of Rhaegal. My eyes go up to see Rhaegal and Drogon circling above. I have no idea what I am doing but I’ll take a chance with a dragon than the Lords and Ladies of the North. I walk out beyond the camp line. I am standing in a big enough area for Rhaegal to land.
My eyes study the dragons flying above as the sound of the howling wind blows through the land. I remain here for a bit longer until Rhaegal dives down. I see his massive body get closer and closer. He stretches his wings out to stop diving. He flaps his wings to hover above me for a moment. Then his body slowly touches down to the snow covered ground. His massive feet and wings cause for the snow around him to erupt off the ground from his landing. I place my hand over my eyes from the snow shooting through the air.
I open my eyes to find Rhaegal just a few inches from me. I still feel intimated by his size and how close he is. I exhale in feeling the warmth of his breath and body. I take my glove off my right hand, slowly placing it above his upper lip. His skin feels like it looks, scaly, rough scale texture but at the same time, warm like my hand over a small candle light flame.
Rhaegal lets out the same growl like purr noise while I rub my hand back and forth above his lip. A smile comes across my face to him in the connection we are beginning to have. His glowing bronze eyes stare down at me but not in a threatening way. It is almost like he is looking right into me.
I do wonder what he sees in me. I walk around his head still petting him. He lightly bobs his head up and down when I have my hand to the start of his neck. I use both of my hands to stroke whatever parts of his neck I can reach. Rhaegal then bends his thick neck to eye me. My right hand pets a small side of his jaw. He straightens then shakes his head. I smile fondly in his joy.
My eyes notice that he lowers his body down to the ground. I stop when I see that he is looking at me. I wonder what he wants until his eyes go from me to his back. I feel my heart stop for a moment knowing what he wants. He wants me to get on his back. I feel a strange chill go over my body as my eyes see the top of his back.
My entire body is shaking a little in the thought of flying like Daenerys flies with Drogon. I haven’t a single clue what to do especially when riding a dragon. Then again, how hard can it be? I definitely know to hold on for dear life with whatever I can hold on to.
I put my glove back on then slowly approach the lowest part of his enormous shoulder. I can easily take one step onto his back. However I’m about to take a step back, not feeling ready to ride him. But I stop when hearing my bastard name shouted several times.
My eyes go to those shouting my name. It is Sansa and the other Northern Lords. I know that they will not come anywhere near Rhaegal for now but they may eventually make their way over if they are desperate enough.
Rhaegal moves his head to block the sight of them. Rhaegal gives a soft growl, encouraging me to get on him. Something inside me takes over, bringing my foot up, stepping up on his shoulder. I stop for a moment to see if he was about to do anything with me on him. But Rhaegal just stares at me. I take what feels like endless steps until I am on end of his neck where I see Daenerys ride on Drogon.
“Ahhh!” I fall onto my stomach side of his back when Rhaegal shifts his upper body weight without warning. I am damn lucky that I did not fall off his back to the ground. I glare at him for a second in shocked surprise if he will move again without any sort of heads up. He does not so I manage to sit up, setting my legs the way I would if I was riding a horse since that seems the best way on his back.
I see some of his scale spikes within arm reach that will be good for hanging on. I gulp in some fear that he will take to flight as soon as I hold on. I slowly reach for two spots of him I can hold onto then wrap my hands tightly to. Rhaegal watches me out of the corner of his right eye.
Rhaegal spreads his wings out, rising his head up, letting out a high pitched monstrous shriek that is natural for him but not to those of the North. His roar feels like the old roars and cries for all of the past Dragons and Targaryens that ever walked the earth.
As soon as he finishes roaring, he beats his wings and rises above the snow lands of Winterfell. I hang on as tight as I can. The higher he climbs, the more Winterfell grows small. My cloak is going along with the wind. His body flies ahead and over Winterfell for all to see me on his back.
I see enough faces that shocked that I am on the back of a dragon, an actual dragon. They never thought possible for anyone of the North to be on the back of a dragon until now. I can only imagine more stubborn ass opinions they will have on me toward Daenerys now. The only person who does not have that look on their face is Arya. Arya is waving to me with a big smile. I manage to wave to Arya smiling back in knowing that she is enjoying the seven hells seeing me ride a dragon.
After Rhaegal circles around Winterfell, he goes higher and farther from the land below. I place my face into my shoulder when we are directly in the snowstorm covering the skies. I keep my eyes closed and tightening my grip. I am panting in the terror of falling from the sky then died to the ground like an egg. Then the feel of the snowstorm is gone that I open my eyes to see nothing but the sight of white fluffy clouds that I cannot remember the last time seeing especially the color of light blue sky of the North.
I’m speechless at the sight of the sun that I stare at it longer than I should that it hurts my eyes. I cannot help but chuckle in how it feels or to even properly see the sun here in the North. It is amazing to see while Rhaegal flaps his wings to stay where we are until he takes a gentle dive then sweeps back up.
I struggle to hang on when he does his small dive. I nearly lose my grip but manage enough to stay on. Rhaegal lets out a smaller roar than he did before. This small one is almost as if he is enjoying this. He is soars through the patch of blue sky while my cloak is blowing through the wind.
I notice how he is flying now; it is almost soft, easy for me. I slowly let my hands go then extend them outward. Everything I have ever felt learning who I really am is not so bad in this moment. Daenerys is right about her children. Rhaegal allowing me to fly on him has been slowly filling with wonder and awe the more we fly together.
I do not even feel the cold when I am up here. I just feel almost free of everything transpiring in the world. I lean my head back with my eyes closed; taking this freedom in like it is a breath of fresh air.
Rhaegal starts picking up his flight speed that my hair tie comes undone. My black hair is all the way down like I use to wear it. I exhale deeply of the freedom I am in. Rhaegal glides over the white clouds, ruling the sky with his mighty flight.
“Whoo! Haha!” I let out with all of my might in happiness and laughing in joy of soaring with Rhaegal. The splendor of all of this is breathtaking. It is almost the majesty unlike most things in the world I have encountered. Daenerys was right; this was needed for the both of us. “Seven hells, you are an amazing, gorgeous beast!!!”
Rhaegal and I fly through the sky enjoying every moment we can. I look down to notice that we are somewhere over Wolf’s Wood. I have traveled those woods quite a lot when I was a boy. Ned allowed me to go hunting with him and Robb when he felt I was of age to go hunting. It looks far different above than on the ground.
Rhaegal flies lower toward the ground that he is flying just above the tree line. My eyes see Rhaegal’s shadow showing on the ground below. I admire the shadow of me on his back until he stretches his wings out, coming to a gentle stop. I try to get a grip of him when feeling his body land on the ground but it wasn’t good enough. I fall off his back.
“Wahhh!” I land on my backside however the freshly fallen snow on the ground seemed like I landed on pillows or fur blankets. I slowly sit up in seeing the snow imprint of where I fell. I notice a sort of growl coming out of Rhaegal; he is laughing at me in his own way. I chuckle in the noise he makes when getting to my feet. I get off some of the snow on my shoulders, arms and legs.
Rhaegal tucks his wings in then lies down on the ground with his head right next to me. I smile toward him but stop when I see the view we have from the woods. I only see woods and sky in the distance, barely the sight of Winterfell. It looks completely different now compared to when I saw Winterfell at a distance with Daenerys. The view of it feels bitter, cold, unwelcoming; no longer a home to me. Then again, it never did growing up either.
The slight view of Daenerys camp is welcoming, warm and content even in the short time I have spent among the Dothraki, and Unsullied. I know that they would not give a damn if I am just a bastard son or the nephew of Daenerys. Those men see me as a good man that wants to fight for the living unlike Sansa and most of the North.
All of my thoughts stop when Rhaegal nudges his head against me. I sit down next to him with his left eye looking at me. He moves his left wing over, keeping me warm. I place my hand over his wing and thank him. He huffs to me then sets his eyes forward. We sit in the quiet of the woods. I notice Rhaegal is observing the sky with a look of sadness.
There is only one thing that he is thinking about right now, Viserys. His dragon brother butchered out of the sky as he was powerless to help him. The sounds of Viserys cries and image of him falling into the ice lake is one thing I will never forget. Rhaegal and Drogon lost their brother beyond the Wall because Daenerys came out to save us.
I truly wish I could take it back so Viserys could still be here flying with his brothers and mother in the fight to come. Instead he is in a watery grave; I am to blame for his death. If I had never gone beyond the Wall, he would still be here. It is my fault.
“I’m sorry, Rhaegal. I’m so sorry. I know how it feels to lose a brother. It is a pain no brother should go through.” I softly tell him with a pit in my stomach at the thought of Robb. Rhaegal slightly moves his head to me more as if he is listening to me.
“My brother…” I stop at the thought in knowing that Robb was never my half brother by blood, a cousin. However he will always be a brother to me. “He always bested me at everything, fighting, hunting, riding and girls. The girls loved him. I was jealous of him and still will be for my whole life. The way Ned looked at him, I wanted that. I still do.” The image of how Ned looked at Robb compared to me felt like the several knives plunged in my body by my own brother’s of the Nights Watch.
“I wanted to hate him, Rhaegal but I never could and still can’t.” I still feel terrible admitting how I felt about Robb. I wonder what Robb would do or say to me if he was here fighting in the Great War. I wonder if he would feel the same about Daenerys as does everyone else.
I lean closer to Rhaegal when my thought goes to his name. Daenerys told me that she named Viserys and Rhaegal after her two brothers. Rhaegal is named after my birth father; how fitting it is the more I think of it. Daenerys and her children will be closest thing I will ever get to know Rhaegar now.
I wonder what else my birth father was like and what the outcome could have been if he killed Robert Baratheon at the Battle of the Trident. If he had taken the Iron Throne after Mad King Aerys Death, would I be who I am today? I wonder who I would be as a man if I grew up a Targaryen instead of a Stark. What kind of father would he have been to me? Would he have looked at me the way Ned stared at Robb? Would he be proud of whom I am?
I struggle to exhale at the thought of my real father. I feel my eyes fill up with a few tears. I sniff while using my fingers to wipe away my few tears. I do not understand how I am feeling like this for a birth father. I have never seen and will never truly know.
Out of nowhere, Rhaegal and I both hear the sound of something coming our way. I am about to stand but when I see who it is, I laugh in amazement that it is Ghost. He runs through the thick amount of snow. He somehow managed to find us. His red eyes look at us then he comes over, lying down with us.
Rhaegal lets Ghost cuddle against him. Ghost licks Rhaegal in gratitude then rests his head on my lap. I pet the top of his head. Rhaegal and I remain looking at the sky above, missing our dead loved ones.
The moments I am having with Rhaegal and Ghost feel extraordinary. My bond with them is a great gift to me in briefly seeing that a dragon and a direwolf are here together. They are the symbol of who I am. The irony is that I am born a dragon and raised by wolves. A Dragon raised by Wolves. It is almost poetic…
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