You Are My Brother

The children of the forest retreated as a menacing presence strode forward. A barrier repelled him from approaching any closer... until he extended his arm and shattered the barrier into thousands of beautiful ice crystals.

"Such weak magic... to think that it could stop me before." The icey figure remarked with a mocking tone before opening his arms wide. Behind him hundreds similar of figures approached with ill intent. "Massacre every last one of those pitiful children. Make them scream."

No further order was needed as every last figure descended into the cave and took action against the children of the forest. They were relentless, not allowing a single one to escape. Within only minutes, only one person remained 'living'.

"The three-eyed crow..." The Night King smirked, walking up to the tree in which he was submerged. "You are at my mercy."

"To think that this dark day would come..."

"How long I've waited to exact my vengeance... and my purpose." He approached the three-eyed crow and opened his palm, covering the wrinkled man's head. Slowly but surely, he started to turn blue like the rest of the Night King's servants.

"Become my eyes, crow..."

Despite his reluctance, the three-eyed crow fell completely under the will of the Night King. After seeing through his eyes, the Night King seemingly smiled.

"A mortal necromancer with a conflicted heart... hahahaha."

~

Winterfell, a needlework session.

"Isn't he too charming? Even his scar is beautiful." Jeyne Poole remarked as she glanced at Jocelyn Baratheon who seemed rather focused. "His Grace can take me prisoner anytime…"

"Don't be silly, he hasn't even looked your way and he's married twice over." Sansa Stark replied.

"That only means there's a chance for a third time, doesn't it?" Jeyne Poole countered.

Meanwhile, Arya Stark didn't know what all the fuss was about and Jocelyn Baratheon was too busy with her banner to add to the conversation.

"... I've never seen you work like that." Arya Stark looked at Jocelyn, changing the topic at hand. Jocelyn was both swift and precise as red silk danced across her black background.

"Jocelyn is only ever that determined when she wants to leave early." Sansa japed.

"Not this time." Jocelyn Baratheon briefly paused, inspecting her work with a smile. "Aerion tasked me with making a Targaryen banner so I'm not going anywhere until I finish it."

The only time Jocelyn is even half a lady is whenever it concerns Aerion Targaryen, Sansa thought. Or has she changed because of him?

"Are you fond of him?" She asked.

"Well… I don't feel like answering that."

"Every girl is… except for Arya horseface, she likes horses over men." Jeyne Poole remarked.

"Bullying a girl over her looks is a low blow, Jeyne." Jocelyn Baratheon defended Arya Stark as she reminded her of herself. "How would you like it if I mocked your parentage?"

"... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

Jeyne Poole couldn't quite go against a former princess who still was regarded as one due to her status as Aerion's ward. No little lady who was present could, for that matter. Meanwhile, Arya Stark looked at Jocelyn Baratheon with a somewhat thankful expression. More than that, she was glad that Jeyne Poole and Sansa Stark were silenced for once with their horseface comments.

"Serves you right." Arya Stark smiled.

"Hmph."

~

"Who's a good dragon?" Aerion asked, petting Vermithor's lowered middle head.

Vermithor, in response, made a rather pleading look as he glanced at the meat in his father's hand. His tail even wagged a little.

"Vermithor is." He threw the meat into the air and Vermithor raised his middle head, opened his mouth and swallowed the meat whole. Although, the ever-growing dragon was still hungry. The cold had given him quite the stomach, after all.

Aerion fed Vermithor some more, ensuring that he doesn't go to some forest and light it afire. Or feast on some poor farmer's livestock, for that matter. After Vermithor was fed, Aerion allowed some people to witness his magnificence on a closer scale.

Naturally, no one was too keen to touch Vermithor. Only Aerion was so casual next to such a terrifying beast…

"Jon, why don't you feel him? My Vermithor is quite tame when he's fed."

"That's reassuring…" Jon Snow replied in a sarcastic tone, walking a few steps forward.

"ROAAAAAAR!"

Vermithor's resounding roar made Jon Snow step back more steps than he had taken forward previously.

"Vermithor… oh, you jester. You've been spending too much time with Viserys, haven't you?" Aerion Targaryen chuckled reassuringly. "He won't do that again, Jon."

"... Right."

'You're half Targaryen and my brother… go on, I believe in you.'

Jon Snow kept it pushing, eventually reaching arm's length to the dragon's right head. He stretched out his arm a little and felt the dragon's majestic scales. They were rough yet felt strangely nice to touch. The dragon eventually lowered its head further and seemed to enjoy his nervous petting, giving Jon Snow more confidence.

"He seems to like you." Aerion Targaryen remarked, smiling as he did so. "Perhaps your unknown mother was a Blackfyre?"

"Must just be beginner's luck." Jon Snow replied. "Robb, why don't you try?"

"I fancy my hand attached to my arm."

"Heh… alright."

"Someone's scared." Jocelyn Baratheon chuckled, walking towards Vermithor without a hint of fear. "I bet Artos is too."

"I'm not. The dragon doesn't like me, that's all."

"Vermithor is a well-behaved dragon... aren't you?" Jocelyn Baratheon traced her hand across the dragon's left head. The dragon slowly nodded, seemingly affirming her statement. It also seemed to be especially receptive and playful to Jocelyn's touch... even more so than Aerion.

"See, he's a good dragon. I might one day steal him away... hahaha." Jocelyn chuckled as she looked at Aerion's expression.

"Hmph... Vermithor knows who his father is." Aerion didn't act concerned in the slightest. Although, he did wonder how she had befriended his dragon.

'Did she feed him snacks on the side?'

~

The Seventh day of the Seventh Moon, 297 AC.

Aerion had sent off twenty Soul Knights into the Night's Watch to act as his eyes and ears, whereby they would keep watch on the Night King. For now, however, it looked like nothing strange was happening near the Wall. Winter is Coming... but when? This unanswered question troubled him greatly.

In regards to the North itself, he sent Soul Knights across the land to improve House Targaryen's standing amongst the smallfolk and highborn alike.

...

After beating both Jon Snow and Robb Stark for what seemed the thousandth time, Aerion showed the crowd a real duel between himself and Ser Jaime... who slightly edged him out.

"You've gotten quite aggressive..." Ser Jaime remarked. "Every blow of yours is more impulsive now and less thought out. Is this a result of sparing Robert too much for your own good?"

"Perhaps..."

"Fury gives a man greater strength, certainly. However, that strength paired with the right mind would make an even deadlier weapon. You've bridged the two before... so you can do it again."

"I'll keep that in mind." Aerion nodded, turning to Jon Snow. "See, now that's a duel between the best of the best."

"I'm honoured to bear witness to it." Jon Snow was certainly impressed, realising that Aerion had simply been playing around earlier.

"I know this is a little sudden and all but if you had a brother, what would you want him to be like?"

"Hmm... well, a lot like you and Robb."

"Interesting..." Aerion would've chuckled at the irony yet his expression remained straight. "Come, I'd like to speak with you in private for a little while."

"Alright."

...

Aerion took Jon Snow someplace more private, the Godswood of Winterfell. This area consisted of three acres of forest within the walls of Winterfell and a weirwood heart tree. Heart trees are what followers of the old gods pray to... creepy old things, these trees were. Aerion was quite fascinated by them yet never felt welcome in their presence.

The face of the tree... it felt like it was always disapprovingly watching him.

'Am I mad or are these old gods truly alive?'

"You pray to these trees, don't you?"

"I keep faith with the old gods." Jon Snow nodded. "As the lord of the seven kingdoms, you would have to pray to the Seven, wouldn't you?"

"If gods are real, then they are cruel and without remorse," Aerion replied. "The world we live in reflects this truth. Endless bloodshed, the death of innocents, natural atrocities... where in all of this is the paradise that a benevolent God would create?"

"You can only ever truly have faith in yourself and those who are loyal to you."

"So I take it that you don't pray." Jon Snow remarked. "I can see why someone so mighty wouldn't bend the knee to any man or god."

"Despite all my might, there are some things I can never change." Aerion sighed. "You see, I have a sweet younger brother that I last held in my arms fourteen years ago. I did not grow up with him, I did not pass down my own skills to him and he grew up with a life unbefitting of a prince. It is... one of the greatest regrets of my life."

"My foolish young self let him go... and I can never, ever, forgive myself for it. As his older brother, I'm a failure, surely..."

"You had a life of your own to lead, a throne to win and a Realm to unite." Jon Snow embraced the tearful Aerion Targaryen, smiling with warmth. "I'm sure this 'brother' would understand..."

"... You are that brother, Jon." Aerion confirmed. "Forgive me, I couldn't be there for you and-."

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Jon Snow countered rather sharply. "You are the Dragon Emperor, a God amongst men. A man of honour, glory and duty... someone I looked up to and still do."

"That being said, I can't look up to my older brother if he's looking down in needless regret..."

"Hahaha..." Aerion chuckled, stopping himself from crying. "You truly are my brother."

Jon Snow was overjoyed to know that he wasn't truly a bastard. Just as surprisingly, the great Aerion Targaryen was actually his brother, Rhaegar was his father and Lyanna was his mother. He was Targaryen royalty... not some bastard birthed from an unknown mother. Regarding Lyanna Baratheon, he couldn't be any happier knowing that she was his mother. For so long, her mysterious figure had haunted him to no end... yet, in truth, she was right there for him, whenever she could be.

On the other end, Aerion Targaryen felt relieved that he had finally reunited all four Targaryens of the world and recovered his only sibling. To add to that, he was very fond of Jon and found him easy to love. They were brothers in both blood and spirit... one could say.

"One of the sweetest sights I've witnessed."

Lyanna Stark remarked, showing herself from the back of another tree.

'Sneaky lady... I didn't even see her before.' Aerion thought.

"Aunt... I mean, mother. Isn't that right?"

"You are my first son." Lyanna Baratheon nodded. "Why don't you come over here and give your mother a proper embrace?"

Aerion glanced to the side as Jon Snow embraced Lyanna Baratheon warmly. He couldn't help but realise that an inevitable bridge between himself and Lyanna Baratheon was forming through her children. First, Jocelyn and now Jon... they both deeply cared for the two and this was not something he could deny.

"I always wished that my mother would be like you... but she really was you."

"I would've told you sooner but His Grace wanted to be a little greedy in regards to informing you."

"I'm right here." Aerion reminded Lyanna Baratheon.

"Do you want an embrace too, my Emperor? If you acknowledge Jon as your trueborn half-brother, then that would mean that my marriage with Rahegar was legal and I'm your... stepmother?"

"Pfft... gods, no." Aerion scoffed at that comment. "The very last thing I'm addressing you as is mother."

"I would not expect you to."

"Is there something I don't know about...?" Jon asked.

"No, don't worry about it," Aerion replied reassuringly. "In the next feast, you'll be sitting by my side... not as a bastard but as my brother."

Aerion decided to leave, giving Jon the time he needed with his mother.

"He reminds me much of Rhaegar... with the mood swings to go with it. Although Aerion is more cheerful than him on the outside, he hides his sorrow and pain better than the latter. Take care of your half-brother for me, Jon... he needs a good brother by his side."

"I will."

Jon nodded, taking Lyanna Baratheon's advice to heart. In time, they separated from each other.

"Don't tell anyone but you're my favourite son." Lyanna playfully remarked, rubbing his black hair.

"And your favourite child would be Jocelyn?" Jon replied, sharpy observing her choice of words.

Lyanna Baratheon nodded. "She is an unruly but sweet and intelligent girl. In many ways more than one, she reminds me of myself when I was younger."

'Even down to the infatuation of Targaryen princes.'

~

"Quiet down, everyone. I have a matter of great importance to announce." Aerion took off his crimson cape and held it in his left hand. The hall comprising of Winterfell's most notable residents and visitors grew silent. Once he knew everyone was listening, Aerion continued to speak.

"So, many should know that I've been quite fond of Jon Snow. I did not intend it as a slight to Lady Catelyn nor Lord Eddard Stark. Simply, I was giving him the treatment that he rightfully should have. You might ask 'rightfully'? How so, he's a bastard?"

"Well, the truth is that he isn't a bastard. When Rhaegar Targaryen eloped Lyanna, not abducted, he sired a little Stark-looking son in Dorne... this son is the Jon Snow you know today and my half-brother."

Aerion wrapped his crimson cape around Jon, solidifying his announcement.

"From henceforth, let it be known that his name is Daeron Targaryen... or, if he so wishes, it can stay as Jon Targaryen."

From beginning to end, several people had spat out their drink in surprise, shock and sheer disbelief.