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Jon’s POV
I stand to my feet about to fly back to Winterfell until something or someone has the attention of Ghost and Rhaegal. My eyes follow where they are looking. I walk a bit ahead to see a single rider. The rider is hooded and cloaked quietly sitting upon a strong, black horse. This rider and horse overlook the lands of the north as if they are the ruler of the North.
I quietly approach the rider and the closer I get, the more I see the rider is a woman. The fitting, black armor suits the rider, clinging to her almost like a second skin. There is a great of snow resting upon the hooded cloak of the rider along with the mane and tail of the black horse. I notice the horse has no saddle or bridle on, just a sort of silver like rope resting around its lower neck. The horse’s head is low, almost in a relaxing state of mind.
I circle behind the rider remaining quiet as does Ghost next to me. Rhaegar remains where he is but I can still see him watching me in case I am in need of him. I am no more than maybe seven steps away from the rider when a dark but yet soothing voice speak.
“Jon Snow, something on your mind?”
I wonder how the rider even knew I was here. It does not matter. I come to the side of the black horse, getting a closer look of the rider. I notice the mask is similar to the masked man I spoke with earlier in the court yard of Winterfell. The rider slowly turns to gaze at me.
I soak in the question and answer, “Many things.”
The rider extends their gloved hand to me. I slowly take their hand in mine as our hands shook for a moment. “I am the Winter Fox.”
The Winter Fox and I glare at one another. I see just enough of the eyes. I notice their eyes are blue but not the common blue. I see no light in their eyes, almost like the eyes are dead, no longer a person before me. I sense that this Winter Fox is something else entirely, not natural. I have a hard time looking away. It almost felt like I am seeing Death with my own eyes, real death.
Our hands remain one in one for a bit longer until the rider slowly pulls their hand away from mine. My eyes remain locked when the rider jumps off the back of the black horse. The Winter Fox walks around to face me. I see the Fox pull out a small bottle of some kind and opens the top of the bottle.
“What is one of the many things on your mind, Snow?” The Fox barely lifts up the head helmet to drink whatever it is in the bottle.
Everything I forgot when flying and clearing my head suddenly hit me and any control I have over my tongue is not here. Before anything could stop me, I say these words out loud to this stranger warrior.
“I am the true son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. My real name is Aegon Targaryen.”
The Fox spits out whatever the drink is and goes directly on my face. My mouth slightly opens in the wetness of the drink and the surprised reaction from the Fox. The Fox stares directly to me, unsure of what to say to me. I wipe the bits of the drink off my face and smell the liquid. It seems like wine of sorts from some that got into my mouth. The Fox manages to make the rest of the drink go down their throat while their eyes go down to the snowy ground.
We remain silent for some time until the Fox extends out the bottle drink to me. I hesitate if I should drink at all. However the Fox says to me, “Drink up since the end of the world is here. What do you have to lose by drinking some?”
I take the bottle and drink up. The more I drink and take in the taste, it is a wine but unlike any I expected it to be. It is sweet, fruity but crisp at the end taste. I finish the bottle wondering what the fruit of the wine is made of.
“What is this wine made of?”
“Raspberry mixed in a deep, luscious wine. This wine is made by us Foxes. Our wine is known for its signature sweetness and fruity tastes.” The Fox says when I had the bottle back. The Fox tosses the empty bottle then reaches for something on their belt. I see it is another bottle of the wine. “Drink up.”
I take a deep breath when I am handed the bottle. I open it, drinking more. The Fox and I sit down on the snowy ground while admiring the view of the North. I keep on drinking until I notice The Fox glaring at me, taking in what I said about who I truly am.
“Are you going to say anything?” I question.
“I will say how lucky you are that you were born with your mother’s dark hair and eyes. Imagine his struggle to keep the secret with a kid with white hair and purple eyes wandering around Winterfell. People would be like, ‘Are you sure he’s yours?’ Lyanna’s features helped him to keep the secret.”
I stare at the Fox and could not resist in chuckling a little. I cannot help but wonder what would have happened if I was born with silver hair or purple eyes. That would have made things worse and harder to explain. I briefly run my fingers through some of my dark hair knowing I do have a piece of my mother with me.
“I am unsure what to say beyond that. But it does explain the one thing that never made sense to me about Lord Eddard Stark.”
“What is it?”
“Eddard Stark. Everyone knew how honorable he was, even now long after his death. Cersei Lannister and Lady Olenna Tyrell could never deny it, no matter what. Many in Westeros know it without doubts. However many found it odd when he brought you to Winterfell after Robert’s Rebellion. I recall Jaime Lannister questioning that bitch, Catelyn Stark about you.”
“What are you talking about with Jaime and Lady Catelyn?” I feel my stomach drop in saying her name out loud. I cannot remember the last time I spoke her name.
“I’ll let you ask Jaime Lannister. It won’t be long until he arrives. All in all, I knew something was off when the story of Ned Stark laid with another even though he was at War roamed Westeros. He would never truly betray anyone who holds a place in his heart unless it came a day when he had to choose between right and wrong. He lied about you to protect you from many; Robert Baratheon’s wrath being one. Ned knew others would you use because of your claim to the Iron Throne. The same way Daenerys was used even as a baby in a crib. Ned Stark knew his own wife could not be trusted with your true name. He didn’t tell another living person.”
My mind begins flooding in the cold treatment Lady Catelyn gave me. Ned Stark put her through that just to keep his promise to his sister, my mother safe. I wonder how she would have treated me if she knew the truth about me. Would she have been like a real mother or an aunt of some sorts to me then?
I take a huge amount of the wine at the thought of Catelyn being the only sort of mother figure in my life but she couldn’t. She hated me because of what Ned Stark told her that I was. I feel a hand placed on my shoulder, my eyes see that it is the Fox.
“Do not give that hating woman another thought. Your true name was not spoken to her and for good reason. Catelyn would’ve found a way to use it especially during the War of the Five Kings. She would have given you up in a heartbeat to save her own skin, Ned and her own blood children. Of course any mother would do so however she still would use you as a chess piece, nothing more or less. Sansa is the same exact way and I can only imagine who she will tell as soon as she gets a chance.”
I notice the cruel words the Fox says about Catelyn Stark and now about Sansa. I wonder why the cruel words however to each their own in whom they like or despise. I leave it alone for now.
“Sansa does not know this but she will when I get chance to tell her and Arya.”
“You haven’t told her or Arya?” The Fox takes their hand off my shoulder.
“No. I was going to earlier however that is when you and the other came through the door.”
“Fucking Death. He and I thought you were going to tell Sansa that Daenerys was pregnant when we were listening outside the door. We loved your words of love about Daenerys.”
I stare at the Fox in shock that the Fox knows about Daenerys and me. The Fox speaks their mind and I oddly like it. I wonder what else they could know in just being here in the North.
“No and Daenerys cannot have any more children from what she told me. The dragons are the only children she has left in the world.” I say in sorrow for Daenerys not being able to bear more children.
I begin to hear the dying cries of the dragon, Viserion beyond the Wall. I close my eyes trying not to relive that moment in my head but it keeps on doing so. I drink more of the wine in the hopes that the wine will kill the part of my mind that relives memories is dead. I am about to stop drinking until the Fox puts their hand on the end of the bottle to keep the tip at my mouth so I can keep drinking.
I drink more than I thought I was capable of drinking. My eyes widen in the taste of the wine running through my mouth and down my throat. I lick my lips in some wine remaining. I give a silent burp then drink a little more wine. I stop so I do not get drunk right away.
The Fox pulls out a small box and opens it. I see there is what looks like small sticks for smoking. The Fox takes one out along with a match. I wonder how the Fox will light the match but my wondering stops when the Fox takes the match to my cheek. The match goes down the hair of my beard and somehow the match lights up.
I am stunned that the Fox was able to do that. The match lights up the tip of whatever the fox begins to smoke. I try to get a glimpse of what the person looks like under the mask but I cannot get a good enough look. The Fox extends it to me but I turn it down.
“I don’t smoke.”
“You will if I have my way with you.” The Fox says in a flirting yet trickster way.
I cannot resist in smiling again at the Fox. I have yet to see their face and they already have me smiling, laughing and drinking more than I thought I would within a brief time with someone I barely know. The Fox keeps on smoking while I keep on drinking at the view before us. Ghost and Rhaegal hang back as does the Fox’s black horse.
“Earlier when we purposefully interrupted, is that what you were going to tell Sansa? About whom you are?” The Fox asks with a sense of worry in their tone when finishing the first smoke and tosses the leftover to the side. I shake my head yes.
“Do you still plan to tell her, Jon Snow?”
“Yes. She and Arya are my family. I want to tell them before the White Walkers come to slaughter us.”
“I hope that is the wine talking in you.”
“Nope, it is not the wine talking.” I say before drinking more of the wine.
The Winter Fox stands up with an entirely different presence before me. The voice coming out of the masked helmet sounds haunting, menacing to the bone when these words are spoken to me, “Do not tell her, Snow. You cannot tell her.”
“I owe them the truth. They are still my family no matter what.” I stand to my feet face to face with this masked person.
“I grant you that but you cannot tell anyone who you truly are, Snow. At least not until long after Daenerys has taken the Iron Throne.”
“I am going to tell them, Winter Fox. Nothing will change my mind about that, not even you can change it. I don’t know why I even told you. I regret doing so.” I hand the bottle back to the Fox. I turn to walk away but the Fox stops me. “Are you going to stand in my way?”
“I am in your way. And no, you are not going to tell another living person who you are. You cannot tell anyone else.”
“You have no right to tell me this. Get out of my way.” I try to push my way out however the Fox instantly slams me against one of the trees close by. I feel the back of my head and backside hit the tree. I let out a moan in the pain I felt in my head now. I notice snow on the tree fall off the branches to the ground around us when being thrown against the tree.
The Winter Fox holds both of my hands above my hand almost like I am being held hostage. I try to fight against the strength of this warrior, struggling. The Fox does not seem phased in my attempt to fight back.
Rhaegal and Ghost growl, ready to attack at any moment. But the Fox appears to be unafraid of them. The Fox stares at them as they are waiting to strike if another move in made by the Fox. The Fox keep my hands above my head and our bodies together with no space in between.
“Snow, I am not going to hurt you. Just listen to me then you can decide whoever you want to tell of your real name.”
“Like I said, there is nothing you can say that will make me change my mind.” I keep on trying to get free until the Winter Fox’s eyes become jet black like the dead of night before me. I am shaken down to my bones in whatever or whoever it is before me.
“Please don’t tell anyone who you are. The truth of who you really are is dangerous for so many reasons. It could destroy lives and Daenerys being one of them. I understand why you want to tell your cousins. I truly do however I will beg you if I have to not to tell anyone.”
“How is it so dangerous?” I wonder why whatever it is before me is thinking this.
“Say if you do tell Sansa and Arya, what do you think will happen? Be honest.”
“I will make them swear not to tell anyone else and I know they will keep their word.” I speak knowing deep down Arya and Sansa will not say a word if I ask them.
“You are so sure of your family. Your certainty is like armor. I wish I had that. However you are half wrong. Arya without a shadow of a doubt will keep her word. You will always be a brother to Arya through and through. You are lucky to have her.”
My eyes remain locked with the dead black eyes that somehow change back into the dead blue eyes. My mouth drops a little when seeing this happen. I want to know what this thing is before me but more words come out of the masked being before me.
“Here is where you are wrong. Sansa will not keep her word. Sansa does not want Daenerys to sit on the Iron Throne because she will remain the Mad King’s daughter in her eyes. Sansa does not trust her because she is not one of you and she fears the power Daenerys has at her back. And I do not blame Sansa in fearing Daenerys. However as soon as the truth of you is spoken to her, she will push for you to sit on the Iron Throne. And your words of not wanting the Iron Throne will be shit to her. She will find a way to make you sit on the throne and Daenerys gone for good. That is why you cannot tell anyone who you are.”
“You do not know Sansa and she is family. She won’t.” I tell the Fox in assurances.
“I am sorry to break it to you but she will tell your secret. She is the not the same sister you remember and grew up with. After everything she has been through and learned, she will use it against Daenerys. Sansa Stark may be the daughter of Catelyn and Eddard Stark but she was taught by Cersei Lannister and Petyr Baelish. She developed their way of thinking. Sansa learned this from Cersei, ‘When you play the Game of Thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground.’ As for Petyr, she learned this, ‘Fight every battle everywhere always in your mind. Everyone is your enemy, everyone is your friend, every possibly series of events is happening all at once. Live that way and nothing will surprise you. Everything that happens will be something that you’ve seen before.’ Sansa is no longer a wolf knowing Winter is Coming.”
Every word that is spoken of how Sansa thinks now sinks in. I forget to exhale in recalling all of the times I have spoken to Sansa since our reunion at Castle Black to the moment I was about to tell Sansa who I truly am. Every word ever spoken between Sansa and I makes me have a terrible gut feeling that this Fox is possibly right.
I barely shake my head no in the words spoken about Sansa. I cannot believe it. I do not want to believe it. “No. That is not who Sansa is. I do not believe it.” I try to say without doubts but I struggle to do so.
“Yes, you do...” These words are whispered in my ear.
I shudder in the cold truth that is hitting me. I shake my head no again. I want to refuse what I am being told. The Fox lets me go slowly but keeps their hands on my shoulders and remains face to face with me. I look away in disbelief, wanting to believe that Sansa will keep her word.
“And if this is not enough, maybe this will be. Ned Stark never told anyone, not even his own wife. He knew what could happen if anyone else knew about you. Why do you think he was more than ok to allow you to join the Night’s Watch? He knew you would be safe there when it comes down to the truth about you. He kept the truth, his word to your mother to his very last breath. Trust the man you raised you as his son. Trust in his judgment.”
I feel the Fox rest their hands on my shoulders. I keep my eyes away from their eyes until the Fox takes a step back from me. I feel like a part of me is breaking in the harsh truth being spoken out loud. I feel like I got slapped hard with all of this.
“I know that you regret telling me about you and you never wanted to hear this however I want you to know that I will not tell another. I swear it. The rest is up to you, Jon Snow. Please take in what I have told you.”
I lift my eyes to look at the Fox but the Fox had already turned their back, mounting up on their black horse. Ghost and Rhaegal keep their eyes on the horse and rider. They are about to leave until a bird of some kind flies in and lands on the shoulder of the Fox. I see a letter attached to the bird. The Fox grabs and opens the letter.
I glare at Ghost and Rhaegal as they can sense how I am feeling right now. But also I am starting to feel the wine I have been drinking. I place my left hand on my forehead in the somewhat relaxed, loosened feeling through my body. I focus my attention back at the Fox as the letter is put into a pocket on their belt.
“What is it?”
“Just updates on our weaponry and something else that you need to know.”
“What do I need to know?”
“It appears that Lord Glover wishes you good fortune but he is staying in Deep Wood Motte with his men. They left shortly after you went flying with Rhaegal.”
The words spoke from Lord Glover echo in my mind and I say them out loud, ‘House Glover will stand behind House Stark as we have for a thousand years. And I will stand behind Jon Snow, the King in the North…’
The Winter Fox walks the black horse over to me and stands right next to me. “You still are the King of the North however the people of the North are sick. They have lost their sense of direction and respect toward others that are here to help. And it will get them killed if the others such as Sansa and the other houses are allowed to do their thinking for them. They are playing the Game of Thrones.”
“I am playing the Game of Thrones as well, Fox.”
“Not the way you should. You are playing with rules but that will get you killed just as it got Ned killed. He played by honesty and rules. You, Jon Snow needs to play right with them in the right way.” The Fox gently brushes their gloved fingers over my lips. I am a bit thrown off in what the Fox is telling me.
“How can I play in the right way?”
“From one bastard to another, play with no rules. No Rules in the Game of Thrones and you will win.” Their gloved hand moves from my lips to right above my belt line, giving a sort of pat. Then the Winter Fox walks onward as my eyes go down to see a bottle of wine I was drinking a bit ago is tied to my belt. I untie it.
“I am no real bastard, Winter Fox.”
My eyes look back to the Winter Fox when I noticed the rider stops to look back at me. “Not by blood but you were raised as one. You know what it is like to be one of us. So in my eyes, you are still a Snow from the North. That will never change. And as for Lord Glover, he was given two chances. Do not give him a third. Lord Glover will have made it to Deep Wood Motte by now. You are not far from them now. Swing the sword and if swinging the sword is not enough for them. Do what a true Targaryen would do, waken the Dragon.”
I hear Rhaegal give a growl in response to what the Fox said. Ghost even appears to be listening and lets out a bark. The Fox bows their head to all three of us then rides off in the direction of Winterfell. I watch the rider until I could no longer see them in my sight.
I stare at the bottle of wine knowing I should not drink anymore however I open the bottle, drink the rest of it. I taste the sweetness of the wine. I prefer good ale however this wine seems a bit better than any ale I have had so far. It helps me down everything that was just spoken. I lean back on the tree feeling a bit drunk compared to before. I drop the bottle and it remains in one piece when hitting the snowy ground.
Rhaegal and Ghost come close to me. Ghost sits down next to me while his red eyes look at me. I lightly smile at him and pet him on top of his head with my right hand. Rhaegal has his head to my left. I extend my left hand to rest right above his eye. I notice how his eye looks right into me.
The more he looks right into me, the more my mind focuses on one thing that I know I need to handle before I go back to Winterfell. And that one thing is Lord Glover. I need to speak with him and depending on the manner of speaking with him, I need to handle him one way or another as Ned or Robb would handle him. Maybe how Daenerys or my birth father, Rhaegar would handle Lord Glover.
I stand up straight off the tree and walk around to Rhaegal’s shoulder. I stare at the top of his back with some fear in what will transpire with Lord Glover. I did whatever was right with Lord Glover the first two times but now, doing what is right is not working with Lord Glover. I have to play with no rules now and doing what is right every single time is not one of them in this situation.
I step onto his back as does Ghost. I nearly stumble off his back due to the amount of wine I have been drinking. But I manage to get a grip. I sit down where I need to be on his back. Ghost lies down behind me like he is already prepared for Rhaegal to take flight at any second. I look ahead to Rhaegal. Rhaegal is waiting for my word to take flight.
My eyes go to the right in the direction of Winterfell then my eyes go to the back left to where Lord Glover and his men would be now. I know I need to visit Lord Glover now rather than later. I lean forward ready for Rhaegal to take flight.
Rhaegal lets out a roar while his massive clawed feet collide against the snowy ground bounce off when he launches himself into the sky. Rhaegal flies away from the woods then directly toward Deep Wood Motte. I am unsure what will happen when I arrive and leave at Deep Wood Motte but I will leave with no regrets in my judgments against their house. Rhaegal flaps his wings carrying us higher and farther from Winterfell.
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