51

Chapter Text

Jon found himself floating in a current as if a river were drawing him downstream; The grey rain-curtain of the world rolled back, and all turned to silver glass, and then he saw it the fortress of Mandos where all of Eru's children reside after their death.

Jon knew that it was an endless fortress of winding passages and tunnels meant to house all the Fëa of Arda, and even deeper in this great fortress was the doors of night where Morgoth was cast out into the void.

But Jon didn't expect this ...

Very vast were those caverns that they made stretching even down under the Shadowy Seas, and they are full of gloom and filled with echoes, and all that deep abode is known to Gods and Elves as Mandos.

"So I come here now to rest, at least my merry tale was interesting..." Jon said with some bitterness.

"It is not necessary to be so cynical, young mortal ... Although, many who have passed through these halls have acted as you have done ..." said a deep voice surprising Jon, who turned to see who spoke to him.

Standing behind him was the spectral form; he seemed one of the Noldor; despite his ethereal appearance, he could see that this figure was tall, dark and proud dressed in silvered mail and upon his brow was a circlet of silver, he appeared most proud and valiant as akin to an Elven king of old and Jon had never stood before an Elf of such beauty save perhaps the Lady Galadriel.

"I am Jon Snow... And I know we are in the Uttermost West, where now is the Doomsman who shall be my judge? " Jon said solemnly, though the elf said nothing, merely gazing at him as if peering into his soul.

They stayed that way for a long time until that elf sighed.

"I apologize for not answering your question, but I sensed your spirit was bound to one whom I love", Said that mysterious elf.

"Who are you stranger though I have shared my name yours escapes me?" Jon said curiously as he knew this was no mere elf.

"My name is Fingolfin ... Son of Finwë and Indis, brother of Finarfin, Findis... and Írimë who was your lover," Said that elf glommily.

It was then that Jon knelt in reverence of the mighty elf.

"I ... I am honoured to be ... In the presence of you oh noble king of the north who alone stood before the Great Enemy ..." Jon said, bowing.

When the elf saw him, he smiled slightly and laughed.

"It is not necessary so much formality Jon, I know very well who you are and what you have achieved ... Herenlóunga," Fingolfin said with a smile.

"My Lord ..." But the noble elf stopped him.

"Be silent, Jon… we have little time for pleasantries; come with me," Fingolfin said in an authoritative tone.

"Where are we going, my lord?" Jon asked curiously.

"To the throne of Námo... There he and the King of Arda await you. I was sent by them to receive you as your soul is rather mystifying," The elf said, slightly worried.

"How so?" Jon asked.

"Try to walk ..." Fingolfin said sadly, and Jon did, but when he took two steps, he felt like he lost all his strength, and fatigue overwhelmed him.

"What's wrong with me? ... I feel as though my bones have turned to steel," Jon thought with surprise.

"What has befallen my soul? ... I thought I would be free of all pain save for my sins?" The young Targaryen said, looking up as Fingolfin helped him to his feet.

"All will be revealed by the High King ... Come, quickly," said Fingolfin helping Jon walk.

"Thank you ..." Jon said.

For a time, they walked through the rooms of command; the great cavern was adorned by the most splendid tapestries that Jon had ever seen; many told tales that he knew from his time in the Grey Havens while others were utterly unknown to him.

"The work of Lord Námo's wife, Vairë, is splendid; her beautiful tapestries have adorned these halls for many ages telling the story of Arda," Said Fingolfin smiling at Jon's astonished look.

"They are without equal", Jon said, feeling rather cheerful as they journeyed through those vast halls they saw the Fea of many an Elf who were rather surprised to see a mortal being led by their King.

"Though I am rather bewildered, I thought these halls would be far more foreboding ..." Jon said.

"These are the halls of the Eldar. You are one of the few mortals who enter them. The halls of the Atani are in a different and far section of the fortress from where we are now," Fingolfin said to a surprised Jon.

"Why am I here and not with my people?" Jon said.

"Patience, young lord, your questions will be answered ... We are almost there", said Fingolfin looking up at the grand stairs that wound ever upward into shadow.

"By the Valar ..." a terrified Jon whispered as Fingolfin held back his laughter.

"I uttered those words when I entered these halls so many centuries ago," He said with a dreamy expression.

"And we must ascend these stairs?" Jon asked, somewhat startled.

"Of course, a young wolf," Fingolfin said sarcastically.

"He has the same biting wit as my sweet Lalwen; it seems they are alike in many ways," Jon thought, with great sadness, knowing he would never gaze upon his lovers again.

Feeling Jon's discomfort, Fingolfin sympathized with him as he longed to be in the arms of his beloved Anaire again.

"And whom I should never have left", thought Fingolfin bitterly.

"Come now, Jon Snow ... I'm afraid our meeting must be brief as the Elder King and the Doomsman awaits you ..." Fingolfin said with resolution.

"That is all well and good, my Lord... but why are you aiding me?" Jon asked, confused, as he followed after the High King.

Fingolfin didn't respond at first, and Jon believed he had offended him.

"Well ... Actually, I had hoped to have this discussion when we reached the top, but the road is long, and I think we have much to speak of," Fingolfin said with a smile.

"What do you propose, my Lord?" Jon asked curiously.

"Throughout this fortress are great pools of water blessed by Lord Ulmo that grant us the ability to peer into the world beyond as if we were gazing through a mirror we hoping to see those whom we love, until we are given new life, or they join us here", said Fingolfin with a sigh.

"And Fingolfin has watched his descendants for many ages," Jon guessed.

"I saw the death of my daughter Aredhel whose impulsiveness led her to death, I also saw the fall of my sons Fingon and Turgon, who fell due to their pride and the betrayal of our own blood, and now they wander these halls much like my half brother Fëanor, "Fingolfin said with loathing so much so that Jon recoiled in fear.

"I'm sorry I frightened you," Fingolfin apologized.

"Think little of it, my Lord. I know the tales of their treachery," Jon said.

"Yes, but I have no wish to recount the tale of Fëanor, who shall never be free of his misery... Returning to our conversation... I also saw Eärendil and his sons Elrond and Elros, from whom the kings of Númenor descend," Said Fingolfin, who now looked at Jon with something like pride?

"I'm afraid I don't understand, my Lord ..." Jon said, causing Fingolfin to sigh in exasperation.

"Very good... Tell me, Jon, how much do you know about your mother's kin, House Stark?" Fingolfin asked, arching an eyebrow.

Jon only looked at Finwë's son in shock in all his days in Westeros and Middle-Earth; he had found no knowledge to indicate that the great houses were descended from the High Men of Númenor except for his beloved Shiera.

"I am well versed in the stories of my house, my Lord", replied Jon confidently.

"Excellent, then tell me the tale of House Stark ..." Fingolfin demanded with authority.

"What does he hope to achieve with this? ... we First Men share no kinship with the Noldor," Jon thought.

"Brandon Stark, also known as Brandon the Builder and Bran, the Builder, was the legendary founder of House Stark who is said to have lived during the Age of Heroes. Scholars believe an ancient king's actions have been exaggerated into legend, or the reigns of multiple kings have been remembered as one through the passage of time.

"What else?" Fingolfin asked impatiently.

"According to legend, Brandon built the Wall and Winterfell; some stories say he did this with the help of giants. According to a ballad in Maester Childer's Winter's Kings, or the Legends and Lineages of the Starks of Winterfell, Brandon also sought assistance from the children of the forest and learned to understand the True Tongue in order to do so.

Tales from the stormlands claim Brandon helped Durran Godsgrief build Storm's End when he was a boy. Some stories claim King Uthor of the High Tower commissioned Brandon to design the stone Hightower at Oldtown, while others state it was Brandon's son, who was also named Brandon.

It is said that Brandon gave the Night's Watch Brandon's Gift, a stretch of land twenty-five leagues wide, though some maesters argue this was done by another Brandon of House Stark. The Kings of Winter and Lords of Winterfell from House Stark descended from Brandon." Jon said, recalling everything he knew about his ancestor.

But Fingolfin didn't seem impressed.

"That's very good, Jon ... But now tell me who was his wife?" Fingolfin asked, amused when he saw the confused expression on Jon's face.

"His wife?" Jon asked, confused since in all the legends about the mythical founder of House Stark, the identity of his wife and Queen was never mentioned.

"I'm afraid that's beyond my knowledge ..." Jon acknowledged.

"Yes, I presumed so... Jon, the wife of Brandon" The Builder ", Your ancestor was Almiel, the younger sister of Anardil, who later became known as Tar-Aldarion Sixth king of Númenor," Said Fingolfin with satisfaction, clearly amused by the shock of the young Stark.

"Excuse me, my Lord?" Jon asked in shock, believing that he had misheard while Fingolfin just laughed at his descendant's expression.

"Yes, I speak truly my child, all who call Brandon their forebear have the blood Númenor in their veins, and although a thousand of generations have passed, they all still carry the blood of the Three Peoples of the Noldor and the Three Houses of the Edain, as well as that of Melian mother of Lúthien "Fingolfin, said solemnly.

"I ... I ... How is it possible?" Jon asked, quite shocked.

"Almiel, despite being a Numenorean Princess, was a fiery woman ... much like your cousin Arya or your mother Lyanna," Said Fingolfin.

"And how was it possible that you came to know her?" Jon said, finally managing to get the words out.

"for many years Tar-Aldarion quarrelled with his wife Erendis and so to be free of her Tar-Aldarion travelled to Middle-earth to construct the first havens of Númenor in those lands, and so Almiel, who was a great friend of Erendis, hoped to convince her brother of his folly, she decided to go to Middle-earth in search of her brother, and thus became the first woman of Westernesse to set foot on those shores."

"Though it seems something went awry," Jon said, and Fingolfin nodded.

"A devastating storm sent by Ossë knocked the ship off balance and guided it into seas unknown to the Númenóreans," Fingolfin said.

Jon gulped at the name of Ossë as of all the Maia in Arda he was possibly the most violent of all.

From his studies, Jon had learned that Ossë is a vassal of Ulmo, and he is master of the seas that wash the shores of Middle-earth. He does not go in the deeps but loves the coasts and the isles and rejoices in the winds of Manwë, for in storm he delights, and laughs amid the roaring of the waves. His spouse is Uinen, the Lady of the Seas, whose hair lies spread through all waters under sky. All creatures she loves that live in the salt streams, and all weeds that grow there; to her mariners cry, for she can lay calm upon the waves, restraining the wildness of Ossë. Númenóreans lived long in her protection and held her in reverence equal to the Valar.

"The Great Enemy hated the Sea, for he could not subdue it. It is said that in the making of Arda, he endeavoured to draw Ossë to his allegiance, promising to him all the realm and power of Ulmo if he would serve him. So it was that long ago there arose great tumults in the sea that wrought ruin to the lands. But Uinen, at the prayer of Aulë, restrained Ossë and brought him before Ulmo; and he was pardoned and returned to his allegiance, to which he has remained faithful. For the most part; for the delight in violence has never wholly departed from him, and at times he will rage in his wilfulness without any command from Ulmo, his lord. Therefore those who dwell by the sea or go up in ships may love him, but they do not trust him."

... Although I owe him gratitude as he saved Sansa from her fate," Jon thought with trepidation.

"By the will of the Valar Almiel and their crew, they managed to reach an unknown continent and were able to settle there in what the people of that place would later call 'The Stormlands' .." Fingolfin said.

"They reached the shores of Westeros," Jon asked in surprise.

"Yes, but they could not return because the inhabitants of those lands were attacked ... Led by their King Durran who believed that the Númenóreans were spies of an enemy kingdom," Fingolfin said sadly.

"And they defeated them?" Jon asked, incredulous at the fact that Númenórean soldiers were defeated by the indigenous Westerosi.

"There were only twenty men and a Princess against an entire army, Jon. They had no hope of victory", Finwë's son replied sadly.

"And how did the paths of my ancestors cross?" Jon asked, enraptured by the story.

"Brandon had completed the castle of" Storm's End "for Durran, and he was grateful for his new fortress he gave Almiel along with all their treasure to him as payment," Fingolfin said with disgust.

"Did Durran offer a Princess of Númenor as a slave and concubine?" Jon asked in horror.

"He did not know of Almiel's identity, but even if he had known, it would have made little difference; however, Brandon took pity on the girl and accepted her only to save her from Durran's cruelty by taking her home with him," Fingolfin said.

"Winterfell ..." Jon said in surprise, and Fingolfin nodded.

"At first Almiel did not want any dealings with the" savages "who had slain her crew and treated her as a slave, but finally, after a great many years, she learned the language of those natives and was able to recount her tale to Brandon, alas she could not return to Númenor " as the men of the North were not skilled Mariners ... That broke Almiel's heart," Fingolfin said sadly.

"It's a sad story ..." Jon said sadly.

"The two served Erú's purposes; Brandon's courage and compassion charmed her, soon they were wed before the heart tree as thus Almiel became the first queen of winter and the Lady of Winterfell although Tar-Aldarion's sister loved Brandon deeply. The love of her homeland never left her heart, and through their union, her children and descendants carry the blood of Elros, "Fingolfin said sadly.

Jon only remained silent when he understood the implications of that story; he carried the blood of the dragon lords and the High Men of Númenor.

Jon and his cousins had been fascinated by those stories of great heroes and Mighty elves... And now they understand why ... They were the stories of their ancestors, they were the stories of his family.

Jon, Sansa, Arya and Bran and Rickon carried the blood of Finwë and Indis, of Fingolfin and Anaire, of Turgon and Elenwë, as well as the blood of Thingol and Melian.

They are descended from Beren and Lúthien as well as Tuor and Idril through Eärendil and Elwing and their son Elros.

They also descend from great mortal heroes such as Beor, and Barahir, the father of Beren, who saved the life of Finrod Felagund and Huor and Rian, who were the parents of Tuor they even shared blood with noble Túrin Turambar as he was the nephew of Huor.

"That's why I feel such kinship with the elves and Men of Númenor; I am no stranger, just a lost relative come home." Jon thought happily.

"I believe you ... My venerable ancestor, although it does me little good, my life has ended and this knowledge, although it fills me with happiness in this dark place, it does little for my lovers or cousins," Jon said sadly.

While Fingolfin smiled slightly, although he did not answer.

"We are here .." Said the noble elf to Jon's surprise.

"But what about the stairs?" Jon asked, surprised that he had gone all the way while Fingolfin watched him with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.

"We are at the top, Jon... I told you that the story would pass the time now compose yourself we shall stand before the Powers of the World, Fingolfin said sternly.

Jon looked up with some embarrassment and great difficulty; before him were two figures, one of whom Jon knew very well the other was a stranger though Jon had some inkling as to his identity.

Sitting on a dark throne was an intimidating figure, a figure that could only be Mandos himself judging by his style of dress and rather queer appearance... The other figure was Manwë clad in his glittering raiment.

"I have fulfilled my order Lord Manwë, Lord Námo", Fingolfin said, bowing to the two Aratar.

"Thank you, Fingolfin... hello Jon... Of the many ways I thought we would see each other again ... I never thought that we would reunite like this," Said the King of Arda, his voice filled with regret.

"I'm sorry I cannot bow Lord Mawnë and Lord Námo, but I feel very weak although I should no longer feel the weariness of life," Jon said, regretting his lack of manners before the Valar.

The look that both Valar gave him at that moment made Jon assume that something was gravely wrong.

"We shall speak of your malady shortly, Jon... Although I must admit that the fact that you are enduring death and are not unsettled is rare, no one among the second born has shown such humility when standing before Namo," Manwë said proudly for Jon.

But Jon sighed.

"That is because I was responsible for my own death Lord Manwë; the savagery of my wolf clouded my mind, and that led me to folly that claimed the life of Lord Celeborn, "Jon said in a guilty voice.

"We shall discuss that in due time... But now you must not answer only to me," Manwë said, stepping aside leaving Jon to stand before the Doomsman of the Valar", who looked at the young Westerosi with indifference.

"Welcome, Jon Snow ... You have travelled many paths to come here," Námo said in a powerful but dispassionate way.

Hearing his voice, Jon was approached by distant memories in which Lord Ulmo showed him the pronouncement of the Curse of Mandos, and the knowledge that he now stood before its master filled him with dread.

"Lord Námo, I finally meet him, none escape the judgement of the Doomsman, and so now I shall face mine," Jon said with a resigned sigh.

And to their surprise, neither Manwë nor Námo uttered a word.

"No, Jon Snow... It is not time for your judgment... Not yet... You have been brought here for another reason," Namo said, putting a hand to his chin and now looking at him with slight interest.

"Why am I here then? Is it not my time to depart Middle-Earth?" Jon asked, bewildered.

"I'm afraid Jon, we can't allow it... Your task is not finished, " Manwë said compassionately.

Jon wished to question the King of Arda, but as he took a few steps, he felt weariness overcome him, and he collapsed before the three Lords.

"What's happening to me?" Jon said, struggling to get up as Manwë stared at the Lord of Command.

At that moment, Fingolfin helped Jon up, and Námo sighed.

"It is as Manwë feared, the blood that this young man inherited from his mother did not let him come here completely... Half of his soul stands before us... The other half remains in Middle-Earth," Namo said; he stood before Jon like a tower and cast a shadow over him like a stormcloud.

"What do you mean that half of my soul is in Middle Earth, Lord Námo?" Jon asked respectfully but genuinely confused by Námo's words.

The Lord of the Dead only sighed and approached the young mortal filling him with apprehension.

"When you passed from the mortal realm, your soul was split part of it journeyed here yet another piece lingers in Middle-Earth ... Apparently it stayed inside something or someone," Námo said with some amusement.

"How?" Jon thought with surprise, how could that happen? Until his eyes suddenly widened.

"GHOST!" He shouted, suddenly remembering the words of his beloved Shiera about the "Skin Changers" and how they could live after death inside animals ... At the cost of losing his mind and adopting savagery.

"Oh, by the Valar ... how did this happen to me?" Jon thought

"Yes, it seems to me that it is just what you imagine Jon Snow, half of your missing soul resides in your Wolf," Said the Lord of the Dead, looking at Jon fiercely and the young Westerosi wish at that moment to be swallowed up by the earth.

"And what will happen to me then?" Jon asked, terrified of the Valar.

"That will depend on you, Jon," Manwë said with a cheerful expression.

At that moment, hope-filled Jon's soul causing him to smile despite his weakness.

"I'm afraid we cannot allow you to leave Arda, though you deserve to rest now alongside your forebears ... Alas, you shall not leave this world for many an age young wolf, "Manwë said compassionately.

"What happened to Lord Celeborn, who lost his life to my folly and madness?" Jon asked as Lord Manwë's expression became one of grief.

"That remains to be seen," Said the King of the Valar, shedding tears of sadness for the noble brother of Thingol cut down in the bloom of his youth.

Instantly Jon understood that what happened to Lord Celeborn was more than a mere wound, and he wept freely, knowing his folly had led to the death of the Noble Lord though a small part of him was joyful, for he knew that Celeborn ought to have killed him had he discovered his love for Galadriel.

... I'm a craven bastard ... Jon thought full of remorse.

"The weapon that slew Celeborn was made with dark spells very old and full of hate; it was akin to a cancerous rot devouring the body and soul ..." Jon said, shuddering at the memory of that spear while Manwë and Námo looked at the young man with satisfaction.

"The development of your foresight is superb, Jon Snow... You must continue developing it because it will be advantageous as you grow older," Námo advised.

"You are right ... The weapon that sent Artanis' husband to these rooms was forged by Sauron; at this moment, Aulë and Irmo are attending Celeborn," Manwë said sadly.

"Is he well? .. Will he be able to reincarnate soon?" Jon asked excitedly, thinking that the noble elf could come back to life, but his illusion did not last long when he saw that even Námo, for a few moments, seemed to have sadness on his face.

"No, Jon ... The evil of that weapon is absolute; it corrupted his Fëa in a way we had never seen before," Manwë said.

"What does my lord mean?" Jon asked, concerned.

"When the Fëa of Celeborn came here, he was changing into a spectre... A being similar to the Nazgûl, only by his strength of will was he able to halt the foul magics as we left him in the care of Aulë, although they have stopped the change, none have mended Celeborn's Fëa, "Manwë said sadly.

"Aulë is trying to discover the mean through which Sauron forged such a weapon... He is convinced that this spear has an innate evil and power of its own that was not given by Sauron... He states that another Vala gave his strength to that spear, "Námo said seriously.

"A Vala? But that's not possible," Jon started to say.

"Only the 'Great Enemy' would possess such foul sorceries, though he is long banished to the void... Somehow the one who was his lieutenant has managed to evoke his power," Manwë said with a fierce expression.

"But that matter is none of your concern, young mortal ... You have a great many tasks to accomplish," Namo said, scrutinizing Jon's every expression.

"What would you have me do?" Jon asked.

"You must decide .." Lord Námo said, returning to his throne.

"What do you speak of Lord Námo?" Jon asked with such happiness to knowing he shall be reunited with his loves soon.

"You must choose your fate just as your ancestor Lúthien once did, to abide with the race of men or to become as one of the Noldor... You were indeed born as a mortal man with scant traces of elven blood and Maia in your blood, but much like Eärendil, you have won great renown, and so the Father of All has decided to intervene directly on this occasion and has allowed us to give you the choice of lineage, "Lord Námo said in a dispassionate tone.

Jon was shocked by the words of the Vala of the dead and glanced at the Elder King, who only mischievously smiled at him, clearly amused by the expressions of his protégé.

"Did Erú Ilúvatar truly grant me the privilege of the houses just as Eärendil?" Jon asked, astonished that Ilúvatar had decided to intervene on his behalf this time.

It was surprising ... And terrifying ... Why would the One go to such trouble for him? On second thought, Jon wasn't wholly convinced that he desired that answer.

"Yes, if you choose to be counted among the Firstborn Ilúvatar has decreed that you will be granted the grace, beauty and other skills of that race and when you wish you can leave to the Blessed Kingdom to live in Valinor and dwell there until the End of Days with the daughters of Finwë and Finarfin, But you shall be forever parted from your mortal lovers as I could not grant them the gift of houses, "Manwë said sternly.

Jon blushed deeply upon hearing the "King of the Valar" as Lord Manwë apparently knew about the peculiar "relationship" he had with Lalwen and Lady Galadriel, furthermore Jon could feel Fingolfin's gaze piercing him from behind.

"Or ... you can return to Middle Earth as a mortal man, in that case, Ilúvatar decree that you can dwell there again but without any assurance of long life or joy. Then you, your relatives, friends and your mortal lovers will receive the grace of the "Long Life" of the High Men of Númenor being as long-lived as Elros himself. Even then, they will all be subjected to a second death, and after a while, all will abandon the world forever, and their achievements and deeds would be nothing more than a memory, "Lord Námo said relentlessly.

Jon was speechless; he would gaze upon the blessed realm and spend his days in peace and comfort with the Lady Galadriel and his dear Lawlen. Though he could never gaze upon his loves again, knowing they would be parted from him never to return until the end of Arda, where they would be united in the second song.

He could choose to abide with men much like his forebear Elros still a great span of years was allotted, many times that of the Men of Middle-earth, and he would enjoy many days of peace and plenty before he laid himself down after the manner of the ancient kings of Númenor, and died.

The path of men was the bitterest of fates, but it is a burden he would bear for the ones he loves.

With a fire in his eyes, Jon gazed upon the Elder King and bellowed his answer with surety.

"I choose ... The way of men, mortality," Jon said, sure of his decision.

Hearing it, Fingolfin, who was silent, closed his eyes and nodded and shed tears as he imagined the misery of his beloved sister when she must be parted from her love until the day Arda breaks.

Both Valar nodded.

"Very well, Jon snow, when you depart from these halls, you shall be blessed with the beauty and the wisdom of the Eldar and the strength and hardihood of the Men of old as will those whom you hold dear, "Manwë said with a solemn smile.

"Did you perceive this, my Lord, that I would choose the gift of men?" Jon asked in surprise as the "King of the Valar" smiled.

"You remind me so much of your ancestors Beren, Tuor and Elros honourable to a fault with a will to match let it never be said that the men of Westeros should be found lacking in courage," said the King of Arda, looking at Jon with pride.

"Why didn't you tell me about the heritage of House Stark, my Lord?" Jon asked, bewildered.

"For everything, there is a time and a place, in those years you were not ready to receive nor understand your inheritance... But now you are no longer a child... It is time for the child to die and the man to be born, "Manwë said with authority, gesturing to Fingolfin, who produced a shield of exceptional quality; it was blue as the boundless sea and set with crystals and upon its face was the heraldry of Finwë a winged sun of many rays.

"My shield ... The one that I carried with me when I faced the" Great Enemy I have kept it since you arrived in Middle Earth, and since then I have watched you, you become a worthy heir I can finally bequeath it to you, use it well, "Fingolfin said with a look of fierce pride in his eyes.

Jon just looked at the beautiful shield and was tempted to touch it but didn't have the strength to lift it.

"It's beautiful, thank you... It's much more than I deserve," Jon said, looking at his ancestor with cloudy eyes.

"One more thing, Jon.. Ilúvatar shall bequeath one last gift," Manwë said, somewhat confused.

That aroused Jon's curiosity and surprise as well as Fingolfin's, although he was silent.

"A gift from Ilúvatar?" Jon asked in surprise.

"That's right, like the shield of Fingolfin, the gift of Erú will appear with you when you wake up ... But we do not know its nature as Erú did not see fit to tell us," Manwë said, sincerely intrigued by the decision of his creator.

"I understand .." Jon said, confused.

"Then, young man... It is almost time for you to depart this realm, but first ... there are a great many people you must meet," Lord Námo said sternly.

"Whom?" Jon asked, intrigued.

"You will know shortly," Said Lord Námo rising again from the throne and raised his arm, and instantly everything was as night.

"Farwell Jon... we shall not meet again for many many years when you awaken in your body, your shield shall beside you," Lord Manwë said solemnly.

"Farwell Jon... go with my blessing and the blessing of all Elves," Fingolfin said with a slight bow.

At that moment, Lord Námo approached Jon and stared at him, causing the young Targaryen to tremble.

"Your life as Jon Snow has ended ... And your life as Baelon Targaryen has just begun," The Vala said to a stunned Jon.

"Baelon Targaryen?… Is that my true name?… An astonished Jon wondered.

And at that moment, everything was filled with light.

When the light dissipated, Jon opened his eyes, and he no longer saw the throne of Namo nor Lord Fingolfin; he was in a different place altogether. It was a cavernous hall held up by lofty pillars of alabaster stone, each engraved with intricate scrollwork; the floor was of silver and set with many gems.

"Am I still in the Rooms of Command? ... Jon thought, surprised until he realized that he was not alone in that place.

In front of him were seven people sitting upon stone benches, but each was weeping.

One of them, the most striking, had deep purple eyes. He also had long, elegant fingers and was very tall. He was clad night-black plate armour, with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen decorated in rubies on its breastplate, and underneath the plate, he wore golden ringmail. Beside him lay a helm with gold, orange, and red silken streamers resembling flames.

This man was clearly a Targaryen.

The second person was a beautiful young woman of at least sixteen namedays; she was slim of frame with brown hair, long face and grey eyes, in fact, she reminded a great deal of Margaery and Arya, she was crowned with a wreath of winter rose and wailed and sobbed.

That young woman had to be part of House Stark, he was sure of that, and besides, Jon, for his part, had never seen a woman with such a miserable countenance.

The others were clearly Knights of the Kingsguard; each wore white cloaks and intricate suits of white enamelled scales, their fastenings for breastplate and other pieces made of silver though these knights looked as if they had seen death.

Jon knew in his heart who those people were, and with an expression of horror, he wanted to move away, but something prevented him from doing so, and it was at that moment they noticed they were not alone.

Jon gazed upon Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, his true parents who's folly had caused the deaths of many a noble soul .

For a few moments, no one uttered a word until Lyanna and Rhaegar's eyes widened as they realized who stood before him; they may never have seen their son in person, but thanks to the sources of Mystical water of the Valar, they had seen him grow, they knew him, from his days in Winterfell and the journey to Middle-Earth.

Without much thought, Lyanna got up quickly and running towards her son; she was able to hold him again to see her beloved child, whom she had left all those years ago.

"My child ... My beautiful child," Lyanna sobbed quietly.

For a few moments, Jon did not know what to do... He had dreamed for so many years to be in his mother's arms that now that it finally happened... Jon was dumbstruck all those years he had imagined his mother as a kindly maiden.

But upon discovering her childish treachery, that fantasy of his beloved mother had been destroyed still could he truly hate her for her folly.

She was his mother, his true mother. Could he not enjoy her loving embrace?

Jon reciprocated his mother's embrace and forcefully allowed himself to be loved by her for the first time breathing deep the scent of winter roses after many long years.

He did not know how long he was holding her until Jon felt a hand touch his shoulder and when he parted from his mother, Jon could see his father, Rhaegar Targaryen, crying as he looked at him with a mixture of feelings, happiness, pride, sadness ... And guilt.

For a moment, Jon considered merely embracing his parents ... But duty prevented him from doing so.

He came here sent by Lord Námo for a reason, and that reason was not just to be hugged by his parents ... As tempting as it was.

"Mother ... Father ... I finally meet you..." Jon said, painfully separating himself from his mother.

"Baelon, My son," Rhaegar said.

"Jon... My name is Jon .." He snapped.

For a few moments, Rhaegar Targaryen looked like he would respond, but it seems that he decided not to and nodded.

"Very good ... Jon," Said the former heir to the Iron Throne, resigned.

"This is not the time to assume that name when I leave this place perhaps I will, Until then I am Jon Snow, the bastard son of Eddard Stark," Jon said proudly, defending the memory of the man who for better or for worse named him, raised him, protected him and taught him the value of honour.

Baelon Targaryen was a Prince, an offshoot of House Targaryen ... But Jon didn't feel like one ... Not yet.

"It is time for the child in you to stay in these rooms and for the man to be born," Those were the words of Lord Manwë.

"But the time is not yet ... I have barely discovered my own name ... I still haven't held it as mine ... Jon acknowledged.

"It's the name we gave you .." His mother said, looking at him wistfully.

"I know ... But all my life, I have been" Jon "... I still haven't accepted that I bear another name," Jon said with sorrow when he saw the gloomy faces of his parents.

"Very good ... Jon," Said his mother Lyanna with a smile, kissing him on the forehead.

"I've spent so many years imagining what I would say to you when I found you in these aged halls ... And now that I finally see you ... I can't think of anything", said Jon laughing at the absurdity of his situation.

"We know you've had a horrid life ... We have watched you from afar," Lyanna said, trying to caress Jon's cheek, but this time he pulled away.

"Truly? ... Do you know what it was like for me to grow up as a bastard? unwanted? ... to be a stain upon the honour of my Uncle," Jon said, getting angry.

"Jon ... We didn't want that for you ... we wanted to give you what you deserve," Rhaegar hoping to appease his son, though it did little to quell Jon's anger so many had suffered for their folly, and now they try and waylay blame.

"What of Rhaenys and Aegon? What of them? Did you think of them when you went galavanting across Dorne? What about their mother, Princess Elia, your wife, the one who was raped and killed by Lord Tywin's mad dog? were they part of some grand scheme? or did you forget them in your flight of fancy? " Jon bellowed in a fury.

"The Death of Elia has tormented me for many years; not a moment passes when I do not think of her, but please my son do not condemn me for it, not you. I have paid dearly for my folly, and now we shall remain here until the Doomsman deems we have given penance ", Said Rhaegar kneeling before his son.

Seeing his father, the last dragon, meekly kneel before him out of guilt, Jon could perceive that he was remorseful, and that began to soften his heart. Although he had not forgotten that his brother, his grandmother Rhaella and his Uncle Viserys, his beloved Dany suffered unimagined hardships for the folly of this man.

"Rhaegar ..." Lyanna said, comforting her love, being like him tormented by guilt.

"Stand ... Father, I don't wish to see you kneeling like a beggar... So tell me why ... Why? ... Why did you betray your families? ... Did you not foresee the folly of your actions ... Mother, you were sworn to Robert Baratheon a Great Lord of the kingdom, I know very well the character of Robert Baratheon, yet you could not see beyond your own desire ... "Jon said now gazing upon his mother who merely bowed her head.

"You're right ... We should have thought better about what we were doing But I didn't care, I wanted to be free ... I thought I wanted to be free from Robert. Still, after being confined here for many years, I realized that I was not running away from him ... I was fleeing from duty, I wished to find love... I was so narrow-minded; I merely saw a man ruled by his vices, and I couldn't bear the thought of being some pretty bauble in his collection And not long after our engagement, I eloped with a crown prince who was already married ... In the end, I was not better than Robert he dare not lay with a married woman" Lyanna said weeping.

"Lyanna ..." Rhaegar began to try to comfort her, but she rejected him.

"No, my love... We shall take the honourable road this time... We will take responsibility for our deplorable actions. Make him realize that we are not greedy fools and that after spending what seems like hundreds of lives in this fortress, we have grown wiser, "Lyanna said, caressing the face of her love.

"Very good .." Said the Silver Prince, eager to leave this cursed place.

At that moment, Jon desired to ask his mother something he yearned to know since he learned the truth of his birth.

"Mother ... I know what I'm going to ask you is rather strange ... But I must know ... If you had married Robert, do you think you would have been happy with him?" Jon asked in dismay.

His mother closed her eyes and, for a few moments, did not answer. Jon was worried he had angered her.

"If you had asked me that question years ago, I would have merely laughed," Lyanna said softly.

"And now?" Jon asked.

"I don't know ... Maybe if I had been happy with Robert ... Your uncle was fostered at the Eyrie by Lord Jon Arryn since the age of eight, where he befriended Robert Baratheon. Ned brought Robert's suit to Winterfell, and your grandfather Rickard agreed to the betrothal. However, that night I confided to Ned that Robert would never be able to keep to one bed. I had heard of his daughter Mya stone, which Ned could not deny. Though he attempted to persuade me that what Robert had done before our betrothal was insignificant and that he would love me, I informed him that love could not change a man's nature ... And now I understand that I was completely wrong, "Lyanna said, taking Rhaegar by the hands.

"Mother ..." Jon said, surprised.

"As I already told you, Robert was ruled by his vices; perhaps I was right, and he would never have been faithful to me without mentioning that most of our marriage would have been drinking, eating and hunting, But never I know for sure, after all, love changed the nature of your father Rhaegar and your Uncle Ned who went against their principles because of the love they both had for me. Perhaps if I had married Robert, I would have changed him for the better ... Or perhaps I would have been nothing but a pretty bauble, I don't know, and I'll never know ... The only thing I know is that in the end, I was not different from Robert, or mayhaps I was worse than him, for I knew my love was wrong... That's all I can tell you, son; I'm sorry if it's not the answer you expected, "Lyanna said with a sad smile.

But Jon just smiled; true was not the answer he expected, although to be honest, he did not expect a response.

"It's better this way", Jon said, hugging his mother again, and she happily hugged him back.

"You are an extraordinary man, Jon.. we have seen everything your exploits.. your conquests," Rhaegar said, arching an eyebrow as Jon blushed, much to his mother's amusement.

"I ... I ..." Jon said, attempting to speak, but his mother merely smiled.

"You must care for them Jon... I want a great many grandchildren?" Lyanna said, enjoying her son's embarrassment.

"MOTHER!" Jon shouted, embarrassed to everyone's amusement.

"I am so proud of you, Jon, you have become a much more remarkable person than I could have ever imagined; you have attained greatness on your own merit and brought fame to our House even if you do not wish to bear our surname, "Rhaegar said proudly.

"I cannot bear the name Targaryen... I'm a bastard; whether snow or sand, it matters not," Jon said, confused but to his wonderment, his parents' gaze hardened.

"No, Jon ... You are not and have never been a bastard," Lyanna said sadly while Jon looked confused.

"I have never been a bastard? ... But does that mean? ... Jon thought with tears in his eyes.

"Jon, your mother and I were wed," Rhaegar said.

"But you were already married to Princess Elia," Jon said, bewildered, and to his surprise, his parents turned scarlet.

"Yes.. well, we Targaryens have a very peculiar history with wives ... Aegon the Conqueror married Rhaenys and Visenya," Rhaegar said, hoping his son would understand.

"Until the Faith forbade polygamy after the reign of Maegor" The Cruel "and no longer allowed such debauchery..." Jon started to say, stopping suddenly and blushing just like his parents.

"Ah.. you understand," Rhaegar said, chuckling at Jon's bewilderment.

"Aahh ..." Jon said sadly.

"Jon, do you think we have been blind to your conquest chief among them your half-sister and aunt?" Lyanna said, losing patience with her son and hitting him on the shoulder.

"By the Valar, you're are just like Arya," Jon said, amused.

"The Septon we bribed happened to bring several fone bottles of Arbor gold, and so we celebrated fairly well ... It wasn't the wedding we had hoped for, and so I hoped that it would suffice as a dowry ..." Rhaegar said in amusement.

"I understand, but I beg you let us speak no more of this .." Jon said sadly as his mother snorted.

"That's why your loves enjoy teasing you, my son .." Lyanna said with a crooked smile, and Jon felt more and more embarrassed.

"I had always dreamed of conversing with them like this; it is truly a shame death has parted us," Jon thought sadly.

"Is my uncle here?" Jon asked, joyful at the thought of seeing his Uncle Ned again, but at that moment, his mother's eyes filled with tears again.

"No, my son ... Your uncle Ned, unlike us, did not have so much to atone for and soon left the Rooms of Command to find his eternal rest," Rhaegar said.

"And you?" Jon asked, and Rhaegar sighed.

"When a soul of the secondborn enters here, we are judged by Namo and are granted punishment or reward for our deeds in life", Rhaegar said.

"And you?" Jon asked.

"Due to our actions, we were sent here by the will of Ilúvatar to reflect upon our folly and grow wiser in body and mind," Lyanna said with a sad smile.

"You know of Ilúvatar?" Jon asked, surprised.

"There is little else to do here except reflect, repent and study," Rhaegar replied with a smile.

"And how long must you remain in these halls?" Jon asked, dismayed, but at that moment, his parents grimaced.

"Too long, far too long," Lyanna said.

"We shall be free of our burden when Men claim Dominion of the Earth" those were the words Lord Námo", Rhaegar said to a stunned Jon.

"They shall remain in these halls until the last ship leaves the Grey Havens and the forges of the Dwarves run cold... Jon thought, horrified, feeling compassion for His parents.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry .." Jon said, shedding tears, but his mother stroked his cheek and wiped them away.

"No, son, do not weep for us, it was our selfishness, hypocrisy and madness that led us here, and now we will pay for the suffering of all those taken before their time in that cursed rebellion," Lyanna said with melancholy.

"Regrettably, alas, we have led others do their doom ..." Rhaegar said, looking to the five Kingsguard who shared their punishment, and one of them got up and approached until he was in front of Jon.

He was dark-haired, tall, and extremely beautiful with haunting violet eyes that reminded Jon of his dear Ashara.

This man was Ser Arthur Dayne "The Sword of the Morning" ... And he was the brother of his beloved Ashara.

"Well met, Prince Baelon ... I have not gazed upon you since you were a baby... It fills my heart with joy to be able to see you again even in these hallowed halls," said the Kingsguard bowing.

Jon had bittersweet feelings for the man since, on the one hand, the name "Arthur Dayne" was spoken of with reverence and awe among the smallfolk of Westeros, a true knight without peer ... alas he was cut down when he refused to stand aside, though Jon bore him no ill will he was merely defending him from Robert, beside him stood Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Jonothor Darry, Ser Oswell Whent and Prince Lewyn Martell though they didn't speak and merely eyed him with curiosity.

"It's a pleasure to meet a legend like you, Ser Arthur", Jon said graciously, but the knight shook his head.

"No, the honour is mine, my dear prince, for I have seen your skill with a blade and daresay you have become far better than I, although tis a pity we cannot cross blades," Arthur said remorsefully.

"I'm sorry that you must reside here until the age of men," Jon said pityingly, but Ser Arthur shook his head.

"No... Do weep for us, my prince; I am only saddened that you could not be reunited with your uncle Eddard or perhaps Brandon; he would have been proud of the man you have become," Sir Arthur said with remorse.

"He knows not that my uncle was a wolf in sheep's clothing ... Jon thought nervously.

"We let the sense of duty hinder our love and compassion and countless innocence suffered for our folly ... like your grandmother the Queen Rhaella," Ser Arthur said, clenching his fists.

Jon just growled as he knew very well the horrors inflicted upon Rhaella by his grandfather.

"Tis a horrid truth, my Prince ... We do not deserve admiration nor praise from anyone; we do not even deserve to wear the white cloak nor to be called knights ..." Ser Arthur said, his broken stoop and withered like an aged tree it seemed the years of guilt had weighed heavily upon him.

"My uncle Ned always thought of you as a Knight worthy of reverence and commanded no less for those who spoke of you," Jon said, and Ser Arthur smiled in appreciation.

"It is laudable that Eddard held me in such high esteem, and I would like to thank him for his gesture, but my Prince, I am afraid I deserve neither pity nor mercy," Ser Arthur said, with sadness.

"Arthur ..." said Rhaegar, trying to comfort his friend, but he denied him.

"All is well, old friend, we've been here long enough to know we are undeserving of the title of Knights; we failed in our duties to protect the weak and allowed a tyrant to murder countless innocence," Ser Arthur growled with remorse.

"I'm sorry," Jon said, and the former Kingsguard groaned.

"My Prince ... though it is not my place, I ask you fulfil two oaths ..." Ser Arthur asked.

"Name it, my lord", Jon said, intrigued.

"Chiefly, take care of my sister Ashara and see that her life is filled with joy", Ser Arthur said with a smile when he saw Jon turn so scarlet he resembled the rubies on his fathers' breastplate.

"Ser Arthur I…" Jon stammered nervously as his parents laughed at him.

"Do not speak of that subject Prince Baelon, please ..." said the knight as he would rather not hear of his beloved sisters love life as it was rather Unusual; he knew that the Prince and Lady Shiera would love his sister Ashara and give her days of peace and comfort yet it did nothing to stiffle his embarassment as such a match.

"Very good, Ser Arthur," Said Jon, embarrassed by the laughter of his parents.

"Thank you, Prince Baelon ... and should you ever return to Westeros, I beg of you rule our lands justly and change the ideals of our people, chiefly chivalry, many a man who was named a Knight was no more a beast with titles and keep reaving, raping and sneering at those they deem lesser than themselves. That must change ... many have suffered the cruelties of these false knights. And so, I beseech thee my Prince defend the domains entrusted to you. To protect the weak and fight for the right. Always to fight the enemies of virtue and order. Never to break faith with a friend or ally; these are the true ideals of Knighthood and ones that the coming generations must learn." Please, my Prince, "Said Ser Arthur kneeling before Jon.

Jon was surprised by the request of Ser Arthur; it had been many years since he had seen Westeros, and he had no desire to return; he had fallen in love with the beauty of Middle Earth and the majesty of its kingdoms, But his heart told him that his happiness would not be eternal, and he must one day return to the land of his birth.

Groaning, Jon agreed, and the legendary knight kissed his hand and returned to his companions, who were looking at Jon with gratitude and respect.

Rhaegar and Lyanna hugged Jon, and this time he embraced them as a son should embrace his parents.

It was then that Jon began to fade, and Lyanna and Rhaegar wept bitter tears, discerning that they shall be parted from their darling boy.

"It seems that this is goodbye ..." Jon said with tears in his eyes.

"We shall not always be parted, my son," Rhaegar said with a smile.

"Farewell, son, remember we shall always love you…." Lyanna said with tears in her eyes.

"Thank you, Mother, and you as well, Father," Jon said, smiling slightly.

"Jon... Please tell Rhaenys that I beg her to one day find the strength to forgive me for everything I did to her, her brother and mother; eternity is not enough time to regret my choices... And that I love them more than words can say, I just hope they are happy even if they do not recover the throne tell her please,", Rhaegar begged.

"I'll do it, father…." Jon said with a nod.

It was then that Jon could no longer see his parents and or the Kingsguard ... He could only see a very intense pure light until suddenly he could feel pain again, a great discomfort.

The march to Annúminas was far shorter than the march to Isengard. Nobody spoke much during the whole trip, and none had the desire to it was a grim mood, and it seemed as if all colour had drained from the world.

All had still lost being well-loved and did not know how to deal with it without being consumed by pain ... Not to mention that when they arrived in Minas Anor and much later in Annuminas, they had to give the terrible account.

Both King Elendil and his son Anárion were shocked when they discovered Jon's death.

They bore Jon upon a golden bier, and passed southwards in silence. Then they laid the bier upon a great wain with Riders of Arnor all about it and his banner borne before, and Loras being Jon's dearest friend, rode upon the wain and kept the arms of the great warrior.

The Lady of Edhellond had used her magic to preserve the body of Jon, and now it appeared he was merely asleep, something that everyone hopelessly desired.

After that, Lady Galadriel behaved rather coldly, although she chose to escort them back to Arnor, she did not converse with anyone except her aunt Írimë and Lord Glorfindel, who were no better than her.