Chapter 15: Blood is Thicker than Ice

Beyond the Wall 303 AC.

Benjen Stark.

He had so many questions, so many ever since he had heard the truth of things. The Child whose name was too long and too difficult to pronounce had explained all he had known so far, and Benjen still could not believe it.

"I am the last of my kind, Benjen Stark." the child sang to him in his head. "Saved by the Old Gods to share my knowledge of what transpired in that cave. Of what happened to our people so it would not happen to yours."

"What happened?" Benjen asked shakily.

"You have seen part of it. You have lived some of it. But to understand the why you need to know the how."

"How?"

"We have been duped, Benjen Stark. A dark force took over our Cave when a forbidden meeting took place from within."

"What do you mean? Do you have to speak in riddles constantly?" Benjen insisted, starting to become agitated and lost in confusion.

"This. This is the reason why my kind was killed. You have the same impatience as your kin, Benjen Stark. Impatience is the root of misplaced anger and so prone to mankind."

"My kin? You mean Bran? He was the reason for your kind's death?" he asked as he looked to the child.

"Indeed. He went against the Raven's wishes and this is what resulted from his insolence."

"How? What did he do?"

"Patience is the key to everything. Patience is what will make your kin win against our foe. Be patient, Benjen Stark. Everything will be revealed to you in time."

Benjen wanted to argue that they had almost no time left. That the Night King was about to cross the Wall and kill everyone that he held dear as he already had with the Children and the Three-Eyed Raven.

Listen to him. the chilling voice of the Night King rang through his head, making him shiver with fright.

How was it possible? Why was he hearing him now?

I want you to see it all.

"I was away gathering supplies for the humans when I heard their call. They bid me gather the Raven's last drops of blood so I could see, but this was not meant for me alone." the Child said, holding a white bowl carved with faces, similar to those carved on the heart trees, and unaware of Benjen's inner turmoil. "Drink this. Drink and you will see what happened."

He hesitated, looking at the white and red mixture in the bowl and he resisted the urge to do what the Night King and the Child both wanted until curiosity got the better of him.

"He saw me, the Night King! He saw me!" Bran's panicked voice rang out while Benjen looked on helplessly, his body unable to move.

He looked around and saw the roots coming out of his body. How could this be?

"You're reliving the Raven's memories." he heard the far-away voice of the Child explain.

"He touched you." he, no, Bloodraven, said to his nephew.

"I don't know. He was close, but-"

"He touched you. He knows you are here. He'll come for you."

"But he can't get in!"

"He can now. His mark is on you."

"Brandon Stark was the one to meet with the Night King." the disembodied voice of the child said. "A mistake, the Raven had thought. A mistake that cost us all greatly."

Not a mistake. His destiny. the Night King retorted in Benjen's head.

"You must leave, all of you." Bloodraven said ominously, while Benjen could see Bran fighting back his tears.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." his nephew pleaded.

"The time has come." Bloodraven cut him off.

"The time for what?"

"For you to become me."

"But am I ready?" Bran said and Benjen frowned, feeling uneasy.

"No."

The scenery changed and Benjen gasped as he saw his younger self in Winterfell, saying his farewells to his brother who was leaving for the Vale.

Seeing his father, Lyanna and Ned tugged at his heart, but he knew he wasn't there for that reason. Why had Bloodraven chosen this moment to watch back? And why did he feel it was important?

"Bran! Bran, wake up!" he heard a girl's voice pleading. "You have to wake up. We need Hodor."

He could hear sounds of the chaos around him that didn't reflect the calm scene taking place right in front of him. Lyanna was hugging him while their father was speaking to Ned and he longed for her, to feel her arms around him, while still feeling a growing fear inside him.

It wasn't his emotion… It was Bloodraven's.

"Bran, wake up. We need Hodor. We need Hodor. Warg into Hodor now! Now!" the girl cried out.

"Listen to your friend, Brandon." Bloodraven said and Benjen saw with horror his long-time friend collapse in front of him, seizing until he could utter only one word.

What have you done to him?

" What have I done? Is it me who… Hodor…" Bran stammered, horrified.

" You needed him to be Hodor so he could save your life in the future." Bloodraven answered his calm demeanor all but reflecting his true emotions.

" So I did… I made him…"

" Not the first time, you didn't. But I made you do it since you'll become me."

" So I can intervene when I'm dreaming?"

" No. You should not."

" But you did! You changed his fate so he could bring me to you."

" His fate was always linked to yours, Brandon Stark. I only eased the process for you and I shouldn't have. Such a burden it is, to become the Three-Eyed Raven. You needed someone you could trust never to leave your side and to stay by it for as long as you needed it."

" You made him what he was so he could help me. Meaning you could have helped a long time ago! You could have prevented the war from happening! You could have prevented me from falling!" Bran accused.

" I couldn't."

" Yes, you could! You did it! That's why… At the Tower of Joy… Father truly heard me!"

" We cannot change the past, Brandon. It is forbidden. Do not try to change your past else you will be suffering the consequences for the rest of your life. As will we all."

"What have you done, you fool?" Benjen could hear the chilly voice of the Night King and feel his presence in his mind.

"The time has come. Leave me." Bloodraven said with a resigned tone.

" No! I don't want to leave! Not before I have all the answers I need!" Bran yelled and Benjen could feel himself weakening.

Flashes of the Night King's face full of hatred and Bran's angered one alternated in his mind, then there was something else that he couldn't quite see.

" Benjen… Your nephew… Help…" were the last words Bloodraven had uttered, before fading away for good.

He heaved and retched in a corner of the cave despite not having anything on his stomach. It was too much for him to bear. All the emotions he felt coming for Bloodraven and added to his own were all too much. He could still feel them battling inside him.

Desperation.

Fear.

Disappointment.

Resignation.

Hope? Was that hope that he felt at the end? Hope for his nephew to get enough time to be safe from the Night King?

He felt sorry for Hodor, Bloodraven, and for the Children, that they had sacrificed so much so Bran could live when his nephew was the one who had created this mess was a sobering thought. He needed to think that their sacrifices were not in vain, yet the Night King's voice taunted him, tugging at his mind as if to mock him.

They were fools. All of them. The Raven knew it and you know it too. No one can escape their destiny.

"My kind is gone, but there is still work to do, Benjen Stark. The Night King is set on a path to destruction that will end all innocent lives until he reaches his goal and the Old Gods will not rest until the threats to life are dealt with. We have to help your kin reach their full potential."

"Their?" Benjen gasped, confused. "I thought… Bran…"

The child's next words, as well as his fiery stare, surprised the dead man walking even more.

"Rickon Stark, not Brandon."

"Rickon? I thought he was dead!" Benjen exclaimed, happily surprised by the news.

"Rickon Stark will help the Song of Ice of Fire to be sung to the world of the living and end the threat we have created."

"The Song of Ice and Fire?"

"Your other kin. The son of a Dragon and a Wolf whose name was almost lost to the world. Now he knows it and who he truly is and you should too."

Benjen's heart would have stilled if it hadn't already.

"Jon?" he said softly.

The North 304 AC.

Dany.

She'd been enjoying herself, even though Jon was elsewhere and she'd been dealing with things unrelated to their upcoming wedding, she'd been enjoying herself. From the very moment, she'd seen the keep come into view to the moment that she heard Viserion's pained cries, she'd been enjoying herself. Those worries and doubts that she had that something would spoil her joy at finding out that not only did Jon wish to be her husband, but his family and the North itself was not just accepting of it, but behind it, had all but faded away.

Her words spoken to King Rickon, to Ser Davos, to Sansa and Arya Stark both on personal matters and matters affecting the realm had all been so well received that it had made her almost forget the reason why she'd come North. Right up to when she found herself racing through the keep and running faster even than her guards, she'd all but forgotten that there was an army of dead men led by a creature older than time who were making their way towards them.

Even as she climbed up on Drogon's back and flew north to she knew not where, she'd not truly remembered what it was they were to face. Yet seeing the large Wall in front of her, watching as Viserion flew towards it and then retreated only to repeat the process again and again. Looking on as her son cried out and let loose his flames against some unseen enemy, she finally remembered and the worry it brought her was one she couldn't shake for some time.

Was this why Viserion had flown to the Wall?

Was he trying to warn them that the fight was upon them?

Was he trying to fight that fight?

Or was something much worse going on here?

They were questions that needed answers and sitting on Drogon's back and just watching as her son suffered in pain was not how she'd get them. So she told Drogon to take her closer to her other son and found herself in an argument of sorts with her fierce older child. His worry for her safety was clear and he both wished to be here and very much not at the same time. Each time she bid him fly closer he refused and she worried that if she pushed him too much, then he'd simply take her as far from the Wall and Viserion as he could and so she pleaded with him.

"Ziry jorrāelagon īlva naejot dohaeragon zirȳla." (He needs us to help him).

"Ziry'll daor ōdrikagon nyke." (He'll not hurt me.)

"Daor ziry'd daor. " (No he'd not).

"Issa ñuha tresy. (He is my son).

"Issa aōha lēkia." (He is your brother)

"Gūrogon nyke naejot zirȳla, Drōgon, gūrogon nyke naejot zirȳla Sir!" (Take me to him, Drogon, Take me to him Now!)

The determined and angered way she said the last words to him seemed to do the trick and finally, he listened. As they flew towards Viserion was when she noticed it, his eyes were no longer the soft golden that they usually were, or at least they weren't only that color. Dany almost needed to blink as she looked to see them change to a pure white and back and as each time they did, Viserion roared out in pain.

"I iksin kesīr, Visērion, sagon rȳ lyks." (I am here, Viserion, be at peace.) "Sagon rȳ lyks." (Be at peace.). She said in as comforting a tone as she could, only for Viserion to roar and his head to turn her way.

It wasn't her command that took Drogon away from the wave of fire that came from Viserion's mouth, nor she who decided to fly alongside the Wall and head West. Drogon made the decision for her and she was most grateful for it. That Viserion followed was something she would have thought gave her comfort and yet it was how he was following that very much did not. Over time she'd come to know the differences in how her dragons flew. From pleasure flights where they and she shared the air and she'd since done with Jon to hunting flights where they had needed to eat to flights of a much different nature. The flight that Viserion was on now was one very much of this and one she recognized as a dragon ready to bring death to its enemies. Never would she have expected her to be that enemy and so Drogon flew fast and true and Viserion gave chase.

When Drogon turned away from the Wall and flew south, she expected Viserion to do likewise only to find he did not. Instead, her son let her and Drogon fly in one direction while he flew back in the opposite and Dany almost cried out in her frustration. This was only even more so when no matter how much she cajoled, pleaded, and even ordered him to turn back, Drogon refused and kept flying south and away from his brother. By the time darkness fell and she began to feel the cold of the North, she knew not where she was or whether she was closer to Winterfell than the Wall. On the flight from Winterfell, she'd not paid much attention to the lands below them or how long it took and now she cursed herself for not doing so.

"Emi naejot jikagon arlī. Ziry jorrāelagon īlva, istiti dohaeragon zirȳla." (We have to go back. He needs us, we must help him.) she pleaded to no avail and even bidding Drogon land received no reply.

Her son was worried about her and wished to protect her and while she loved him for it, now was not the time for such. Whatever was going on with Viserion had to be resolved and resolved soon and the longer it was not, the more she feared for him. When she heard the roar from behind her, she turned expecting to see one son only to see the other, and never had she seen a more welcome sight. Not only was Rhaegal now here with her, but Jon was on his back and as the green dragon flew closer to them, she looked to see his dark grey eyes looking at her with concern. A concern she did her best to relieve with a smile.

When Jon bid her land, she shook her head and pointed to Drogon, hoping he knew that it was the black dragon and not her who refused to do so. What happened next was something she'd never expected to see or to be more precise hear, as Rhaegal began to argue with his older and larger brother. Be it the nature of the man on his back, the fact he now had a rider of his own, or his own concern for Viserion, never had she heard him sound so fierce as he did then and not even Drogon's own roars back sounded so loud.

How long it went on for she knew not, but eventually much to her delight, it seemed that an accord had been reached and it was Rhaegal who'd won the argument and not Drogon. It wasn't to land that the dragons went though, but north once more and she looked over to Jon concernedly only to find that he showed none. She tried to speak to him over the sound of the wind, but the nights in the North rarely allowed for such and so it was with motions of her hand that she tried to communicate. It took some time for anything to be made clear, but she felt that she'd done her best to let him know what it was they'd face once they reached their destination.

"WE WILL HELP HIM, TOGETHER!" Jon shouted out, his words still sounding like a whisper in the wind, and yet she heard him clearly and they brought her a relief that she welcomed.

This. This is what she wished for as much as she had for anything for herself. To have someone who understood, someone she could share this with. Many years earlier she'd told herself something that as she looked at the green dragon and its rider, she found herself reflecting upon. The closer they got to the Wall, the more those words played out in her head and the truer they seemed, and as she saw that Viserion was no longer flying but was now on the ground resting and as Rhaegal and then Drogon landed, she said them softly.

"Only a dragon can love a dragon."

Beyond the Wall 304 AC.

The Night King.

The cold was supposed to rid him of any emotion, yet as the days went on since he had met the Last Raven, he found himself growing angrier and angrier.

This was not how it was supposed to happen.

He had been part of the Pact of the Isle of Faces. Part of the Order of the Green Men. He had been fully devoted to the Old Gods. Even to the point of giving his life to helping them once the First Greenseer foresaw what would happen to the descendants of the First Men when new invaders settled on the lands. Yet when he had tried to make them see all reason, The Raven and the Children who created him had then shunned him and sent him away.

Then he'd lost his Gods' favor and with that, all the blessings they gave him. The magic of his blood and of the Children was still running through him, thanks to the obsidian they had put in his heart. So while his Gods had abandoned him, he still couldn't forget what he'd seen the day he was gifted with the power of Ice. He had been created for a reason and his mind had been set on this goal ever since, even if his creators had changed their minds or to be more precise, lost them.

His own kind had turned against him while all he wanted was to ensure that they would survive and the Son of the Bloody Blade had used his magic to prevent him from acting. He'd done so with the blessing of the Giants and the Children who had helped before secluding themselves Far North, thinking that by doing so they would escape their fate.

They didn't. For they could not escape their destiny and soon the sons of the First Men would face theirs as well.

He looked around him at his fellow companions and the sons that had been offered to him by that useless thing. It took a lot out of him to use his magic on them and to teach them how to do the same, but they had the right blood. Blood that was right enough to manipulate ice and to force the dead to move. He could feel his forces weaken once more and he cursed the Old Gods for his struggles. Every minute that he lost power meant that the Raven was getting stronger, and he could feel his kin beyond the wall. He was trying to undermine him while he should be under his thrall and fighting by his side. He needed to move quickly before the Raven truly understood his powers, else everything he was meant for would have been for naught.

He felt it then, the colossal amount of magic that was coming toward him. He felt its warmth and got almost dizzy with the possibility that it could give him. Instinctively, he marched toward its source and his companions followed. He had only felt something this strong once, at the town his soldiers called Hardhome, and when he met the last Stark of the Wall. There was something about him, something different, a magic stronger, less tainted, and more enticing than what he was used to so far. Something stronger than what his stubborn kin was denying him by struggling with all his might. Definitely stronger than even what the Last Raven radiated for now. Oh, he knew what it meant. The man had clearly been blessed by the Gods, more than enough to escape his traps countless times already. Thankfully, like the Raven, he didn't know the full extent of his potential yet and so he needed to turn him to his side before the Raven could turn him to his own or use him against him and for his own ends.

This was the reason why he had used so much force the last time they had met. Fighting his kin was not something the Night King wanted to do, rather it was something he needed to. He had to make them see reason, to crush all the man's delusions and show him that all fight was futile. He would raise more soldiers, create more weapons to counter whatever the Gods would throw at him, he would do whatever needed to be done until his mission was accomplished. For were he to fail then even worse than the Doom was upon them.

He needed to gain his strength back, to feed off it as he fed off the last people that he had raised. The Children had deprived him of their precious knowledge and of adding their power to his own by blowing themselves up instead of accepting being turned. Having to struggle against the former Stark of the Wall was taxing too, and he cursed the wolf blood of this lineage with all his might. They must have known, with the fierceness they kept using to fight him, and given who they descended from, they must have known of his purpose, and yet they were set on trying to defeat him.

Why couldn't they understand their folly and give up already?

We won't let you kill all the living, you monster. You'll never win. the Stark retorted in his head.

"After everything, that's what you want to fight me on? They were bound to die, Stark. The Children, the Giants, they were on borrowed time the moment they shared their magic with men."

Is that why you killed them? Why you want to kill my family? Because you think everything is bound to die?

"You still do not want to understand. Even with the truth in front of your eyes, you chose to let your emotions get the best of you and to fight me. This is our destiny, Stark. You do not get to choose your fate."

Yet here I stand, and I will until my last breath so you will not use me against my kin.

"So be it." the Night King sighed as he gestured to one of his companions. "Find him and end him."

"Should I try to make him bend, my King?"

"No. He had his chance. End him for good, so he could go to his Gods, fulfilling his oath."

His companion nodded and walked away, followed by those under his thrall, and the Night King focused once more on the being who got ever closer to the Wall. He would have to thank the Raven for weakening its magic, for he would not be able to sense anything had the Wall kept his protection. His mark on him and the magic of his blood had diminished the power of the runes in Castle Black, and it was time for him to put the rest of it to test.

He closed his eyes, looking for the beacon of magic that called him earlier, and was surprised to see four more of them. Two of them were human and he recognized the Stark of the Wall, now more powerful than the last time they met. The magic in him had bloomed spectacularly and while he was curious as to what he did to reach this potential, he also feared the answer. The human close to him exuded a warmth similar to the Stark, but they had very little of the magic of the First Men contrary to him.

They would need to be dealt with, but first, the Night King wanted to know more about the three other beings. He sent a dead raven to scour the sky near the weakest of them, the one closest to the Wall and stopped in his tracks when he felt it.

The Raven controlled it.

He could feel his influence all over the beast. Why would he send it here? Was he really making it attack the Wall? Why would he destroy the only thing protecting him from the Night King and his army?

This made no sense at all, but he would use all his power to bring the beast to his side. He needed it to cross the Wall, to weaken the beast enough so the Raven had no choice but to leave and then kill it before using his magic to bring him back to life.

He could hear his anguished roars and hastened his move, now recognizing the beast and its potential. A fire-breathing dragon was a rare thing in the world, especially in this part of the land. He'd tried tracking ice dragons, but to no avail, as those beasts were still managing to evade him in the water.

The Dragon seemed to fight the influence of the Raven and the Night King saw this as an opportunity. He was not about to cross the Wall right away, but if he could just seize the beast…

Unless this was a ruse, a trap made by the Raven to expose his position and use it to end him.

"Eiren, Seren." He called, and two of his companions stepped forward. "Send some of your soldiers to the Castle. They are not to attack unless provoked. Get the beast to cross the Wall and kill it."

"How, my king?" Eiren said.

He smirked, taking his companion's hand in his. As they touched, both could feel his power seep through the other and the air around them crackled as an ice spear grew between them.

"It will be done, my King." Eiren nodded, as Seren was also given a portion of the Night King's magic.

He watched as they rode away, feeling something akin to giddiness. Something he hadn't felt for a long time. Soon this dragon would be his and he couldn't wait to gain its power and then the others, before starting his journey to fulfill his destiny.

The North 304 AC.

Jon Snow.

He'd felt Rhaegal's worries long before he'd heard the sound of Viserion's pained roars and it was only that he was in the midst of a conversation with Davos and Rickon that had stopped him running to the dragon right away. That and the knowledge that soon enough he and Davos would be on Rhaegal's back and heading to Davos' keep. Yet as soon as he'd actually heard the roars, all other thoughts were gone for now and he was running through the keep.

He knew that somewhere ahead of him, Dany would be doing the same and when he reached the courtyard it was to find that she and Drogon were already in the sky and heading north. Through his link with Rhaegal, he'd tried to find out if it was to war or something else they were flying, but was unable to. The Green Dragon's worry for his mother and brothers was the only thing he could feel from him and was mayhap the reason why he cared not that people would see him climb onto Rhaegal's back and all that meant. All he knew was that he had to go where Dany and Drogon went and that they were chasing after Viserion.

It was as they were in the air that both he and Rhaegal began to calm each other. His presence allowed the Green Dragon to be somewhat at peace and yet still it was a surprise when instead of the dragons somewhere in front of him, it was to another place that Rhaegal brought him. A part of him wished to argue with the Green Dragon, to tell him there was no need for them to be here and it was to Dany and Drogon they needed to go to. He was not in control of this flight however and so when Rhaegal landed, Jon accepted it and after he'd climbed down off his back, he moved around the camp.

Within moments he knew exactly what had happened here and who had done it and he felt no great loss for these men. They had thrown their lot in with Littlefinger and had played their part in Sansa's abduction and were it not for his own worries over her safety at the time, they'd have paid their debt to her in blood then and there. Instead, he'd let them live and leave, knowing full well that he could deal with them sometime in the future, providing they had a future that was. The wolves however were not so forgiving and as he moved around the bodies, their grisly work was clear.

"Your sword helped you not Corbray and it's a blade you never deserved to wield." Jon said as he picked up the Valyrian Steel sword and saw it bore no marks of use and was unbloodied.

How long he spent gathering the bodies and their tents and bringing them all together, he couldn't tell, only that he was breathing heavily by the end of it. He'd piled them all on top of each other and had he, not a dragon to call upon, then it would have taken him even more time to build pyres so that he could burn the dead. With Rhaegal behind him, however, there was no need for such. So with a last look to make sure he'd not missed a single one and after tying Lady Forlorn to his back, he climbed back up on Rhaegal's back and gave the order.

"Dracarys." he said and the flames came instantly.

By the time they were flying north once again, the ashes from the bodies he'd just burned had been taken by the wind. Were this another time and another place, then he'd probably feel some wrongness in what he'd just done. Was he another man and not who he was, then he'd mayhap fear that he'd face consequences from either the Knights of the Vale, the men he'd just burned kin, or the gods that those south of the Neck followed. He felt none of it. To leave those bodies unattended to was to court disaster when the Night King and his army made their move. Jon was not certain how the power to raise the dead worked or what distance the Night King needed to be from those he raised, but should the Wall fail to hold him, then these men could very well rise again. As for the gods, they weren't his and he either held his own and Melisandre's favor which was the reason he still breathed, or he was already doomed and cursed, and then it mattered not.

"Kesi dohaeragon aōha lēkia, kīvin zijo." (We will help your brother, I swear it.) he said when he felt Rhaegal tense beneath him.

His words brought the Green Dragon some comfort and despite himself, he felt a sense of pride about that. He'd be a liar was he to say that flying on a dragon and bonding with one hadn't brought him a comfort he'd rarely known. Spending time with Rhaegal was akin to spending time with Ghost in a lot of ways, that being one of the most obvious similarities to Jon's mind. For many years it had been the white wolf and the white wolf alone who'd brought him that comfort and calmed his troubled mind and so to be able to return that in regards to the Green Dragon was something he was most prideful about.

Though they flew fast, it felt as if they were not and Jon wondered if that was because he was growing more accustomed to flying on a dragon's back or was it that he was growing far more comfortable with being who he now knew he was.

Was it routine and familiarity or an embracing of his heritage?

Was this how the Dragonrider's of old felt when they took to the skies?

If it was then he could understand why his family had sought to bring the dragons back with all they had. Why at Summerhall they'd risked so very much and lost even more.

What would have life been like had they succeeded?

Would there have been a rebellion?

Would any have dared to face his house had they dragons to call upon?

Would Aerys have done even more damage with a dragon to unleash?

It was thoughts like this that had and now once again ran through his mind since speaking to both the Ghost of High Heart and Wylla. Thoughts of family lost that he'd not had the chance to know such as his father, brother, and sister and their mother and his own mother as well as others. He had a grandmother who'd died not long after he'd been born, Dany's mother losing her life as she brought her into the world just as his own had done. An uncle that despite the terrible things he did at the end of his life, was still talked about fondly at times by the sister he'd left behind.

There were others from further back, some he'd felt a kinship with and admired when growing up though he knew not their connection. Aemon the Dragonknight and Daeron the Young Dragon amongst them. His family had known its share of cruel men, madmen, and good men and in that regard, they were no different than the other side of his blood. Something that he knew people would forget when they spoke ill of dragons while ignoring what wolves, lions, snakes, stags, and falcons had done in their own history.

When he heard the trill coming from Rhaegal beneath him, he put aside such thoughts for now, and as he saw Dany and Drogon, he realized the truth of why he was having them once again. It was not simply he was and had accepted who he was and what that meant. Now he'd shown it to the men and women of the North too and once they returned to Winterfell that truth would need to be revealed once and for all. Who he is was who he was, who he'd always been, and as he flew beside Dany and Drogon and shouted out that they were together in this, it was a dragon whose lips those words came from.

"Is he resting?" he asked after they landed and he'd climbed hurriedly down off Rhaegal's back.

"I believe so. I don't know what ails him, Jon, he…."

"Dany?"

"He attacked us, he attacked me…." she said and she sounded almost heartbroken when she did so, Jon moving to her and taking her in his arms and allowing her to sob against his chest.

"He's not himself, Dany, he knows not what he does." he said over and over and eventually his words seemed to get through to her.

"What are…" he shushed her when he saw the gates open and the horses move out from Castle Black.

"I need to send them back, they can't be here. Viserion will not hurt us, Dany, of that I'm sure but them…"

She nodded and moved to Rhaegal as he moved to intercept the horses. Seeing Edd again brought a smile to his face and he swore he saw one on his former brother's face too. Though it was soon replaced by the worried look that Edd shot the dragons and Viserion in particular.

"Jon, is it….is it time?" Edd asked worriedly as they met some distance from where Dany and the three dragons were.

"Gods I hope not." he said to some nervous laughs from those with the acting Lord Commander of the Nights Watch "The dragon Edd, the one that arrived here before the other what can you tell me of him?"

He looked on as Edd climbed off his horse, the only one of the black brothers willing to do so as the others seemed far keener to be able to ride off at a moment's notice. When he reached where he was standing, Jon embraced him like the true friend he thought him as. They were the last of them, the last two who'd been there from the start of things. Not that there were not others who still served or who'd not been there when Jon had first come to the Wall, but of those he'd named friends, now only Edd remained.

"It's good to see you brother, even though I wish it were under other circumstances." he said as they let go of each other.

"Considering you're not here to tell me we're about to truly face an army of dead men, I'll take these circumstances, Jon." Edd said and Jon smiled as he patted him on the back.

"Aye, I suppose you have the right of it. The dragon, Edd?"

"He acted most strangely Jon, or mayhap not as I don't know what strange is to a dragon." Edd said and despite himself, Jon laughed a true laugh "He seemed to be facing some enemy, Jon, some unseen enemy and he roared and spat out fire as if it were there in front of him when it was certainly not."

"The brothers, the keep?" he asked to a shake of Edd's head.

"In the vault, but… The dead are here, Jon. Not all of them, but they are at our doors." his friends answered, making him shiver.

"Have they moved yet? Have you seen the Night King?"

"No, this is most strange. They arrived just a few moments after the dragon and haven't moved ever since."

"I think it's for the best if you and the men stay inside the gates. I know not what's wrong with him." he said looking to where Dany stood and split her attention between Viserion and his own conversation. "But we will take care of him and then we'll worry about the dead if they haven't moved before then."

"You'll stay a while?" Edd asked and Jon nodded seeing the relieved and somewhat happy look on his usually more dour face.

"Aye, I'll even introduce you to the queen before I leave." he said to a snort.

"Knowing my luck, the bloody Night King will decide to attack before I get to truly meet a Dragon Queen." Edd said and Jon slapped him on the back once more.

"It's good to see you, Edd, truly."

"Aye, you too Jon."

He waited until Edd had remounted and he and the black brothers had ridden back to Castle Black before then he then moved to Dany.

"They'll stay behind their gates and leave this to us." he said as she looked at him worriedly.

"Do we have a plan?" she asked and he chuckled only stopping when she frowned at him.

"I was just thinking about how you're ever meant to plan for this." he said bringing a smile to her face.

"I suppose it's not really something you can plan for is it."

"No, but we'll fix this, Dany, together." he said as he took her hand in his and they walked towards the sleeping dragon.

He stopped them before they got too close, the thought coming to him all of a sudden, and closing his eyes, he reached out and soon found him. Ghost was with Rickon and his brother looked somewhat worried, the lick he had the white wolf give him soon made him relax a little and the conversation he then had with him through Ghost was almost as strange as the one they had a moment later.

" I need your help brother, I need you to try and warg Viserion." he said as they stood by what to all intents and purposes was a Weirwood tree.

" I can't warg a dragon, Jon."

" I need you to try, as will I."

Opening his eyes it was to see Dany look at him worriedly and it took him a moment to realize why that was. The handkerchief she gave him was soon full of the blood that had spilled from his nose.

"What happened… Are you well?"

"Aye, I spoke to my brother, he's going to help." he said and she looked at him as if he was the mad king.

"Jon?"

"Through Ghost, I know not how but I spoke to him and together we're going to try and warg Viserion."

"Be careful." she said worriedly and he moved to her and kissed her lips, the kiss far too short for either of them and he then had to wipe a little bit of blood from her cheek.

"As much as I can be." he said as he moved away from her and closer to the Gold Dragon.

The Wall 304 AC.

Dany.

She looked on nervously as Jon moved to Viserion, her son slept still, and were anyone to look at him they'd think him at peace, and yet she knew he was very much not. Call it a mother's intuition or simply the amount of time she'd spent with the dragons, but while Viserion rested it was exhaustion alone that was the reason for it and not because he was relaxed enough to do so. The closer Jon got to the golden dragon the more she felt her trepidation rise and by the time he reached him, she was holding her breath.

When Viserion stirred, she gasped, but he was only moving and not waking, for now at least. Jon moved in front and to Viserion's head and she worried anew. Of all the places he could go it would be the most dangerous of all that he'd choose. A thought came unbidden to her mind and she found herself wondering if like her, Jon was unburnt. It was quickly followed by other thoughts, other worries and she almost called out when she saw Jon lean his head against Viserion's own as if it were Rhaegal he was with and not her errant son.

What if he wasn't unburnt and Viserion unleashed his flames upon him?

What if he was and it wasn't flames that Viserion attacked with?

Why had she agreed to this?

How would she forgive herself if Jon was hurt?

Dany closed her eyes and offered up a prayer to any god that would listen. She prayed for her love and for her son, begged the gods that both of them would be unhurt by whatever had to take place. Opening them she found that she wasn't the only one who was looking on nervously and that Rhaegal too was as concerned as she and so it was to him that she moved to. There was little she could do about Viserion or Jon for now, the least she could do was comfort who she could and mayhap receive some comfort in return.

"Kessa sagon sȳrī, kessi sagon sȳrī, ñuha tresy." (He will be well, they will be well, my son) she said in as true a voice as she could, her nervousness and worry held back for now as she put on a brave face for her son.

Behind her, Drogon watched and readied to attack should Viserion seek to do likewise. Her oldest son still didn't wish her to be here and had it been her who'd moved to Viserion, then she doubted he'd have allowed it. It should bring her comfort to know that he was ready to protect her and it did, though knowing that he couldn't or wouldn't be able to protect Jon, diminished that comfort somewhat.

Hearing Rhaegal's worried sounds, she stroked his face and continued to speak softly to him, her eyes not on the green dragon but the golden one and the man who stood in front of it. Viserion had not moved and not even stirred since Jon placed his head against his own. There were no sounds and the silence was only broken by the wind and the snow as it melted under Rhaegal's body. How long Jon stood there she knew not, but when he moved and did so quickly, she almost ran to him only for him to shake his head and shout to her.

"Drogon, Drogon, you must fly!" Jon shouted and the almost panic in his voice was enough to make her do as he bid.

She was on Drogon's back and in the air in the blink of an eye and less than a moment later so was Jon on Rhaegal which brought her some relief. Then she heard the roar, the agonized sounds that came from Viserion and she watched as he let loose his flames on the ground in front of him. She tried not to think that Jon had been standing there mere moments earlier or that had he still been there then all her worries would have come true. Instead, she turned to look at him on Rhaegal's back and let that be enough for now.

"He's going to attack, Dany, we need to take him from here." Jon shouted and only that he and Rhaegal were so close to them or she'd not have heard him so clearly.

A moment later she was watching as Jon and Rhaegal flew down to where Viserion still stood and she heard Rhaegal's roar of warning or challenge. It was answered by one from Viserion and then one from Drogon and then the golden dragon was in the air and the chase had begun. Both Rhaegal and Drogon flew out of the reach of Viserion's flames and claws, yet it hadn't stopped Viserion from aiming fire at them. After who knew how long it did seem to stop however and she turned her head to see that it was to the Wall and not after them that Viserion was heading.

Jon bid her stay her course and then he and Rhaegal pulled away from their side and she heard the roars once again and once again Viserion gave chase. On and on this went and she felt the cold of the air as it hit her in the face, the darkness of the night only broken by a not-so full moon and Viserion's flames when he unleashed them. Eventually, Jon and Rhaegal joined her and Drogon again and this time he bid her to land when he did. She saw him as they did so, her son was exhausted once more and had landed not far from where they'd first found him. He was not yet asleep but he didn't look in their direction when they themselves landed. She waited until Jon climbed down off Rhaegal's back before doing likewise.

"I don't, what happened?" she asked worriedly as she looked from Jon to Viserion.

"He's fighting it, Dany, he's fighting it with all he has." Jon said almost happily and was it not for that then she'd have asked him what IT was "He needs to hear from his mother. As much as I or Rickon can do, he needs to hear from his mother." Jon said holding out his hand which she took without hesitation.

As they moved, so did Drogon and her oldest son was not best pleased with where she was walking to. It took her some time to calm him down and Jon's words that he would see her safe to finally be enough to do so. Then she moved with Jon and soon enough she was standing in front of Viserion and looking into his golden eyes. She could see his tiredness, his pain and she swore there was a plea there too which bid her leave him and move far from his side. Something she had no intention of doing.

"Iksan aōha muña, nyke'll dōrī henujagon ao mērī, dōrī!" (I am your mother, I'll never leave you alone, Never!) she said leaving no room for doubt and she believed her words meant something to her son, she hoped they did.

"Talk to him Dany, make him remember who he is, who you are, and that a dragon is not a slave, not to anyone." Jon said and she nodded as Jon moved and leaned his head against Viserion's once more.

For the next few hours, she spoke of days long past and brought up memories of her children's childhood. She spoke of her joy when they were born and when she first held them in her arms. Her worry and anger when the warlocks had dared to try and take them from her. How she loved each of them equally despite Drogon being her mount and why she'd named him after a brother who was unworthy of such an honor. All the while, Jon leaned against Viserion's head and spoke no words or moved not.

The trill when she heard it, took her aback. So surprised was she by it that she almost believed it was something she'd wished into existence more than something that had actually come from Viseiron's throat. Yet as her hands moved over his face, she heard it again and then again, and then she heard Jon speak as he moved from to her son.

"He's hungry, I'll return as soon as I can." Jon said and she looked at him to see he was unconcerned.

"He's free? What ails him is no more?" she asked and Jon nodded.

"He's free and other than being tired and hungry, he's well too."

She leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Jon's lips, not the one she'd have liked to share with him and not enough to thank him for all he'd done for her son, but enough for now. As soon as he and Rhaegal flew to seek food for Viserion, Drogon moved to her and she gave him room to be with his brother. The two dragons speaking however it was that dragons did and though she wasn't privy to the conversation, she didn't need to be. Her son would chide and comfort her other son, show annoyance at what he almost did, and then relief that he was himself once more and she knew Viserion would need to hear both.

How long Jon was gone for she knew not, but it was early morning when he and Rhaegal arrived back and the Whale carcass that they carried was soon laid in front of Viserion whose flames seemed weaker when they covered it. She watched with eager eyes as her son ate all of the whale and then she spoke to Drogon and to Rhaegal and bid them take their brother somewhere he could rest. For once there was no reluctance from Drogon about her orders and with a last stroking of Viserion's head and words spoken that showed she blamed him not and that praised him for having the strength to resist and fight, all three dragons took to the air and she and Jon walked to Castle Black.

"Is he well, for true?" she asked as they walked.

"He is. I…"

"Jon?"

"There was a presence in him, Dany, Rickon, and I both felt it and Edd told me that the dead are here." he said and she stopped him to look at his face.

"The war has begun?" she asked and Jon shook his head.

"I think it was him, Dany. The Night King, I think he tried to take control of Viserion and that's why he came here. Had we not…"

She shuddered and was glad of his arms when they went around her and more so of the words he spoke to her as he held her tightly. The mere thoughts of one of her sons being in thrall to someone or something like the Night King were ones she wished not to have and yet ones that now threatened to overwhelm her.

What if he tried again?

What if he succeeded?

Would she have to fight against one of her own children?

Jon did his best to relieve her of those worries before leading her in through the gates of Castle Black. His words soothed her troubled mind and heart and she was grateful for them and for him.

"Drogon and Rhaegal are bonded to you and me, Dany, I don't believe any could take them and as for Viserion, he knows now. He is aware of it and his brothers will look out for him too. We must be wary but unafraid, he fought him as much as I, Rickon or you did, he fought him and beat him." Jon said and she nodded.

The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch made his way to them as soon as he heard they were inside and not outside of the gates. Eddison Tollett was a man that Jon had named a true friend and he blushed and stuttered over Jon's introduction of her and his own welcoming of her to the keep. When he asked were they to stay, Jon told him they would be and so he sent men off to make rooms available for them to use and to fetch warm food for them to partake of.

"The Dead, Edd?" Jon asked and she tried not to giggle at how that sounded.

"Gone Jon." Edd replied and Dany lost her fight against the laughter, the giggles soon turning to fuller laughs, and each time she looked to Jon or Edd, her laughter only grew.

Soon she was wiping tears from her eyes as she tried to stop herself, Jon's words and the amused look on his face only made her laugh even more.

"I'm so pleased we can amuse you so, my love, but I fail to see the jape. Was it something I said, Edd said?"

"Dead… Edd….Gone Jon…" she said before bursting into laughs once more.

"The fierce Dragonqueen, if only those who stood against her could see her know, oh how they'd tremble in fear." Jon said before winking at her and setting her off once more.

She needed it, truly she needed it, and looking at Jon she could see that he knew it too. By the time their food arrived she was all laughed out and as she ate she felt the tiredness come over her. She barely heard the words that Jon spoke to Edd and when she'd drifted off to sleep she couldn't tell, only that she woke up briefly to find herself being carried in Jon's arms, and when she woke up for true it was to find him in bed with her, clothed fully though he was, it was a sight she looked forward to seeing for many more days to come.

Castle Black 304 AC. (takes place before and after events with Viserion)

Eddison Tollett.

A dragon. A fucking dragon was trying to break down the fucking Wall.

As if he didn't have enough on his plate to deal with given the preparation for the fight against the dead, how was he supposed to fight a fucking dragon? Weren't they supposed to be on their side? That was what Jon had told him in his last letter, that the Dragon Queen and her dragons would help them fight the Army of the Dead.

He should have known his luck would turn. It always did, after all. The men were panicking, so was he, and he had no clue as to what should be done.

"Lord commander! Lord Commander!" one of the recruits came to him, out of breath.

"I told you not to call me that!" He sighed loudly. "And why are you not in the vault with the others."

Before the lad could respond, he heard the dreadful horn blast.

When he heard the second one, Edd ran to the lift, cursing his luck as the third one was sure to follow.

Why now? Why did they choose that moment to come here? As if dealing with a crazed dragon wasn't enough!

His heart stilled when he arrived at the top of the Wall and saw the dead in numbers. There were far more of them than the number of men and women manning Castle Black, for sure, but it wasn't what scared him the most.

They were just there standing still, waiting.

Would there be more coming their way?

Where were their masters?

Why didn't they move?

What were they waiting for?

"Ready the fires! Gather your arrows! If they move, shoot the fuckers!" he yelled to the archers who were scrambling to take their positions.

The roar of the dragon made him jump in fright. It seemed to be in pain rather than being angry, struggling and battling with itself and its frantic moves made Edd even more scared. An angry dragon could mayhap be dealt with, or so he thought, but this one…

What the fuck is happening?

When the two other dragons arrived, Edd was relieved to see them try to stop the gold one. He could barely see their riders but ordered some of his brothers to get ready to meet them. He shouldn't have been surprised to see Jon there, he knew he shouldn't. After all, he'd been known for saving the Night Watch's asses countless times, yet Edd couldn't help but feel a huge weight lift on his shoulder when he met with his brother by choice.

He noticed the change in Jon immediately. He wasn't as defeated as when he'd left Castle Black with his sister, nor was he behaving as before he was betrayed by the Night's Watch, yet there was something about him that commanded authority and respect. He exuded confidence in his stance as well as in his words, and Edd truly believed him when he promised to deal with the dragon.

If there was anyone able to do so, it would be Jon for sure.

He rode back to Castle Black, sending a quick prayer to whoever out there who'd listen to him to protect his friend, and he resumed his position as acting Lord Commander to watch over the other threat from beyond the Wall.

The feeling of dread didn't leave him for a long time. Not when he heard reports of the dragons making no move for hours, nor when he saw them fly away and even less with the wights standing at the edge of the Haunted Forest. Only when he saw them retreat into the shadows did he let out a sigh of relief. Whatever signal they were waiting for had not come and so Edd and the rest of his brothers would live to fight another day.

He wondered briefly if their presence had something to do with the dragon's strange attitude but decided against thinking too much of it. He was not made for thinking and strategizing, so with this, he would gladly let Jon take the lead.

When he heard the horn blow only once and all dragons landed peacefully, he quickly opened the gates and went to greet his friend once more. He hadn't looked at the Queen yet, not with everything going on, so he was quite taken aback when Jon introduced him to her.

"Edd, may I present you Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Rightful Queen, and the Andals and the Rhoynar, Ruler of the South, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons, The Unburnt, Queen of Meereen and my future wife. Daenerys, this is Eddison Tollett, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and one of my closest friends."

"Fuck off, Jon. I'm not the Bloody Lord Commander!" Edd retorted before the queen could greet him.

"He is the acting Lord Commander, at least. And may I remind you that you are in presence of a Queen, Edd?" Jon said smirking at him.

"Fuck me, do I have to say all of her titles back? That's quite a mouthful, Your Grace, I mean… Of fuck! I said… Fuck, I'm sorry, Your Grace. Castle Black is yours." he said, blushing when she smiled at him gently.

"I thank you, Lord Commander. I have heard much about you from Jon."

"With my luck, he might have told you all the stupid things I've done so far…" he grumbled and she laughed an adorable laugh. "Are you really going to wed this man?"

"I am." she replied, smiling proudly.

"Well fuck! I mean, congratulations to both of you! I hope I'll be invited if we're still alive, I mean. Don't mind my ramblings. Will you stay some more? We can arrange rooms for you so you can rest."

"Aye, we would love that, thank you, Edd." Jon replied.

"Don't thank me yet, the food and ale are still as awful as when you were here," Edd lamented, making Jon laugh.

"Glad to see you're still the same, brother."

Edd gave him a quick smile before ordering one of the recruits to prepare a room for their new guests. They ate together and he watched closely the interactions between the Queen and his friend. Part of him envied Jon for having more luck than him, for marrying a beautiful, seemingly kind-hearted woman who was not afraid to be close with those of a lower status and made them feel they were important. Then he remembered who the Queen would marry and it made more sense, as Jon deserved it for all the sacrifices he'd made in the name of the realm.

"So, you're going to be King, huh?" Edd chuckled when Daenerys seemed to drift off to sleep, her head resting on Jon's shoulder.

"Aye." Jon said, smiling brightly.

"You lucky sod! That would have never happened to me for sure!" Edd whined and Jon laughed heartily this time. "Marrying the Queen, taming one dragon, you sure got a raise from your former life!"

He frowned as his friend lost his smile and he felt the urge to apologize, only for Jon to shake his head.

"You said nothing wrong, Edd. I know it seems formidable and if I didn't know what I do now, I would feel it too good to be true. But now, it just… Makes sense."

"What makes sense?" Edd asked, confused until his friend opened up to him and told him a secret that had been hidden for more than two decades, a tale of a lost prince who'd been raised as a bastard. It shocked Edd so much that it took him a moment to realize that Jon was still speaking and so he listened to the words more clearly.

"I've been lied to all my life, Edd. Yet now that I know, I can't help but feel that it couldn't happen any other way. My life would have been totally different had I been raised knowing the truth. My brothers, my sisters… I cannot regret the relationship I built with them, the people I met, the friends I made… I wouldn't have met you if I hadn't been Jon Snow…" Jon ended, sighing loudly, while all Edd could think about was that he was a Targaryen. Thorne would kill himself if he'd known he'd murdered Rhaegar's son, and wherever he was Edd hoped he was whimpering in shame.

"Fuck me sideways!" he whispered, still in shock, and Jon burst out laughing looking at him.

"Thanks, Edd. I needed that. I needed to feel that some things would not change. I will be faced with revealing the truth of my birth when I return to Winterfell and I know not how the Lords will react to it."

"Well, you're still you, it's still you in there whatever your name is now. Jon, Baelon, you'll still lead us to fight the dead and they would be fools to say otherwise. You'll be a good king. Unless you insist I call you Your Grace, and if that it will make you a prick. I swear I will not hesitate to tell people I saw the King naked and that there is nothing graceful about him!" Edd joked and he and Jon roughhoused as if they were still about to swear their vows. It felt good to forget the end of the world for even a short while, which he told his friend.

"Aye, it feels good, yet we have to be ready for the fight to come. Which is why I brought you something."

"A present? Why, Your Grace, you're spoiling me already?"

"Fuck off, Edd." Jon said, moving to retrieve a sword in its sheath.

"Is that…"

"A Valyrian steel sword, yes. The last man wielding it will not have any use for it where he is now, so I figured you would need one. You know, being the Lord Commander in all but name…"

"Jon, I can't -"

"Sam is dead, Edd." Jon cut him off seriously, making him gasp in shock.

"What? What do you mean, Sam is dead?"

Jon tried to explain what happened to their friend, but Edd was too shocked to understand.

"He tried to kill you? Where are Gilly and Little Sam?"

"Safe for now. And it wasn't him, but a man wearing his face."

"Fuck. I can't believe it…"

"We are the last of our brotherhood, Edd. You and I, we are the last, and I will be damned if I do not give you the means to fight against our enemies. I will not lose you too, you hear me? So take the damned sword and stay alive, will you?"

Edd nodded numbly, his heart aching for the loss of Sam and the pain he could feel emanating from his friend. That Jon would not want him dead was a balm to his heart, and that he would go out of his way to see him survive proved how much he cared for him.

"What happened to the guy who wielded it before me?" Edd wondered out loud.

"It's a long story."

"Well, I have all night to listen to it and I have nothing better to do, so…"

Jon tapped his shoulder, chuckling, and proceeded to tell him about the unlucky bastard who faced the wolves.

Castle Black 304 AC.

Jon Snow.

He'd watched her sleep and lay in the bed beside her while he did so. Every little expression she made as she dreamt were ones that he took note of and some brought a smile to his face. How her nose would scrunch up or her lips would purse, the soft moans she'd make as she moved to make herself comfortable, all of it made his own tiredness not seem so pressing. Even her little snores were adorable, the sound was as soft and delicate as she herself looked. Or at least it was sometimes he thought with a chuckle when she let out a particularly loud one. Eventually, though he'd had no choice and so he too had slept and found his dreams to be of dragons both living and dead.

At first, it was the three who lived, Rhaegal, Drogon, and especially Viserion. He'd warged into the golden dragon or warged as much as one could into a mind that big. To describe what it felt like would take a smarter man than he and had he been alone then he'd have feared getting lost in the sheer mass that it was. The best way he'd have put it was how it looked like to him now in his dreams. He was standing on the other side of the Wall, in the vast open expanse, and other than the three others who were there, he was alone.

A Wolf, A dragon, something that combined both and another presence that took no form or shape and projected only malevolence. He'd sought out the wolf and together they'd gone to the dragon and offered him their protection against the other, together they'd calmed him but couldn't free him from the hold on his mind and it had taken a song from a voice on the other side of the Wall to finally allow him to break free. A mother's song and once the dragon had heard it, not even the Wall was a barrier to him.

The wolf had left too and it had left him briefly with another presence, the call of his name one that mayhap at one time he'd have answered except that was no longer his name. He was no longer the wolf that this thing believed him to be, no longer a Snow or a Stark. While it called out for Jon Snow to come to him, Jon Snow had died and only Baelon Targaryen stood here now and he had no desire to listen to the call of any but himself and so it was that call that he answered. In doing so he found himself walking in a much different place and the voice he heard this time was one he answered happily.

" When last I saw you, you were a boy and now you're a man."

" You never saw me." he said to a chuckle from his grand uncle.

" Did I not, or did I just not see Jon Snow?" Aemon asked and he couldn't answer him.

" Did you know?" he asked as he moved to stand beside a much younger man than he remembered.

" I felt a bond with you, though knew not what that bond was, nephew. Had I then who knows where we'd be now. Yet it matters not because you've done all you should have and remembered the best piece of advice I ever gave you." Aemon said as he smiled.

" To kill the boy." he said softly and Aemon shook his head.

" That a Targaryen alone in the world was a terrible thing."

" She'll never be alone again." he said and Aemon smiled as he began to fade from view.

" We are watching, Baelon, your kin looks over you and we are proud of what we see. You and Daenerys are all that remains of our House, but not for long for together you'll rebuild what was lost. Trust the wolf in you and your dragon most of all. The dragons know Baelon Targaryen, be sure you do too."

He woke to find her looking down at him and she smiled when she saw him. Her smile only grew a moment later when he grabbed her and brought her head to his own, the kiss a far truer one than they'd shared over the last couple of days.

"You are better I see." she said with a smirk.

"I feel refreshed, you?"

"I do too, hungry but refreshed."

"Then we should go eat." he said and she nodded.

He rose from the bed and stretched, the clothing he wore now feeling constraining and the reason for the stiffness in his muscles. Dany too was fully dressed and yet seemed far more comfortable than he and he was happy she'd slept well. When he reached out for her hand, she gave it happily and they walked from the room to reveal it had been the King's Tower that he'd brought her to. It didn't take too long for her to see that as poor as the room they'd slept in was, it was far better than most and that Castle Black was in a terrible state.

"Here, you were sent here." she said angrily.

"I was luckier than most and our granduncle spent more than six decades here, the few years I spent pale in comparison to that."

"Aemon." she said her voice almost a whisper.

"I dreamt of him last night. Whether it was because I'm back here or something else I know not, but he seemed happy we had found each other." he said and noticed the full smile on her face now.

"As am I, Jon."

"Baelon. My name is Baelon and I can no longer hide who I truly am." he said as they reached the stairs and walked down into the courtyard.

"Good, dragons shouldn't hide." she said, and then she looked at him with concern when he stopped in his tracks.

Looking to where he fell, he swore he could see the blood still pooled there and the sign still stuck in the ground, though both were only visions in his head and not true.

"Baelon?" she asked and were he not still looking to the corner of the yard, he'd have noticed that she used his true name almost instantly.

"I. it's nothing."

"Baelon?"

"I fell there. When they betrayed me, I…."

It was her arms that offered him the comfort this time, something that put him in mind that his own had done so in regards to her worries for Viserion only the day before. That just like then, it worked and made the other feel better only showed how right they were for each other, and Aemon's words came back to him. A Targaryen alone in the world was a terrible thing and it was no longer just Dany who was not alone.

He led her to the Common Hall and though the food they got wasn't the best, it was warm and she ate it as hungrily as he did. Edd arrived not long after they had and he bid him join them at the table. The conversation soon became one full of japes, stories and just listening to Dany as she laughed was more than enough for him to almost forget the things that being in this place now brought up.

"Your army is truly that large?" Edd asked incredulously taking him from his thoughts and back to the conversation that was taking place.

"We have men from the West and Riverlands marching to join us too and with the Dornish, Aye, it's that large." Dany said proudly and he chuckled at her use of the Northern brogue.

"And you'll march them to here?" Edd asked.

"Here is where the battle will be, will it not?" he asked and Edd nodded.

"I never truly believed you would do it, Jon."

"It wasn't just me." he said looking to Dany "And Jon Snow died long ago, Edd, it just took me far too long to bury him."

He had already told him the truth of who he was, the story taking far less time than he expected it to and whether it was because he wished Edd to know the truth or that he was practicing for what he'd need to do when he returned to Winterfell, it mattered not. Edd now took the piss out of him and made Dany laugh loudly as he did so. His words were ones that both showed how easily he accepted it and that in the end, it changed nothing between them. Baelon hoped that the Lords of the North would see the things the same way, though he doubted that all would.

After eating, he led Dany across the courtyard and up the stairs, their destination Aemon's rooms and he felt her stiffen as they neared them. Entering them it amazed him how different he now looked at them. Other than the Lord Commander's room, the Maester's were probably the largest and best in Castle Black, and yet looking at them now was to show how poor they truly were. It was because of this that it took him so long to hear the sobs that came from Dany and once he did, he took her in his arms and held her against her chest.

"He deserved better than here, Baelon. This was no place for our kin."

"He was happy, Dany. Coming here had been his own choice and he was happy other than when our family fell. He told me that he'd been called three times and three times he'd failed and it was when my father, brother, and sister fell that he'd felt it the worst. That when he'd heard what they'd done to the babes, it had almost broken him."

He felt her shake in his arms as her sobs increased and he brushed his hand over her back as he spoke words that he hoped offered her some respite.

"Hearing of you, the things you'd done, Gods, he was like a babe opening a present each time a tale would reach him of your adventures in Essos."

"He was?" she sniffled.

"He was proud of you, of all you'd done, and while he'd not have wished you to go through what you had, that you did and came out better for it filled him with such pride. I believe had he been younger and fitter then he'd have gone to you." he said and she looked up at him through tear-filled eyes.

"You do?"

"I do." he said and it was enough, for now, he felt, though he'd not be surprised if she felt the sadness later too.

He let her move around the room and it took him a while to understand what it was she was doing and once he did, he joined her. It took them some time to find anything that was personal to their grand-uncle but when they did, both of them took something for themselves. With a last look to the room he then took her outside and to the lift and she held his hand as they made their way to the top of the Wall.

"I've never. Even on Drogon's back." she said breathlessly as she looked out over the edge and to the lands beyond.

"When I first came here, my uncle Benjen took me up and showed it to me. Had I but known it was the last I'd have seen of him I'd have never allowed him to take the lift back down."

"I thought…"

"Aye, the Brotherhood said they saw him but I'd hoped…."

"He must be doing something important, Baelon, otherwise he'd be here." she said and he nodded.

They stood for a few moments and then he heard the sounds of the dragons behind him, all three of them flying together and turning Dany to face them, he soon saw her truest smile as she watched her children fly.

"He looks better, happy." she said and he nodded, Viserion looked to be back to himself.

"I think he is, come, it's time we said our goodbyes."

He saw Edd with his new sword, Lady Forlorn in the hands of someone more deserving and its steel would be needed before too long. He'd asked him to have a list prepared of all that they were short of and of their supplies, knowing full well just how poorly provisioned they truly were. Even the supplies he'd had diverted to the Watch wouldn't be enough to see them through the fight to come, let alone Winter, and so he'd see that more were brought with them when their army marched.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, your grace." Edd said nervously, still not sure how to talk to Dany even though he'd done so irreverently without any pushback.

"You too, Edd, truly." Dany said before embracing him much to Baelon's amusement.

"Jo….Baelon." Edd said and he nodded happy to hear him use his name.

"Don't knock it down when I'm gone." he said looking to the Wall and the smirk on Edd's face was soon replaced by his more usual expression.

"The world is truly fucking ending if you're making jokes."

"No, it only thinks it is." he said as he wrapped his arm around his former brother and they moved their heads together "I'll return and we'll fucking end him, Edd, for those we lost."

"For Grenn, Pyp and for Sam." Edd said.

"For our friends."

The dragons had landed outside the gates and he and Dany made their way to them. Viserion turned his head to face his mother and Dany walked to him first before then moving to Drogon. With a look back to Edd and with a smile on his face he bid Rhaegal take to the air and was laughing a moment later as he heard Edd's voice for what he prayed would not be the last time.

"Come on back to work you lazy fucks, you'd swear you not seen dragons afore."

Beyond The Wall 304 AC.

Benjen Stark.

Part of him was glad he was already dead, as surely he wouldn't have survived the endless waves of foes thrown at him for days by the Nigh King. The monster had been relentless ever since Benjen had denied him after seeing what had happened to Bloodraven, and had Benjen still needed to rest, he would have fallen days ago. He had still got his strength and he thanked the Gods for that, even though his morale was dwindling as the hours went by.

He needed to get to the Wall. He needed to see Jon, to talk to him, and to help him in the fight against the Night King. More importantly, he needed to look at Lyanna's son, even if it was the last thing he would ever do.

He'd always known Jon wasn't Ned's. He'd always felt it, but he had thought Jon was Brandon's bastard. Had Ned told him the truth, then he would have never let his nephew swear his vows to the Night's Watch. Seven Hells, Benjen wasn't sure he would have left Winterfell himself either.

He had failed his sister, failed to protect the last reminder of her passage in this life. He wanted, no he needed Jon to know and understand to what lengths he would have gone for him had he known of the truth. He blamed himself for being too self-centered not to notice the resemblance. He should have known. Jon had Lyanna's eyes, the sad and angry grey ones that looked like steely ice that Benjen couldn't bear to look at after she had been betrothed to Baratheon. The ones he promised himself to change whenever he looked at Jon as he tried to blend into the shadows of Winterfell. How could he be so stupid not to put two and two together?

He cursed Ned and his need for secrecy. Things could have been so different, so much better for all of them, if only he had said something. Benjen would have cared for Jon, he would have asked for a keep and raised his nephew without the burden of being a stain on his family's name. He'd have named him his own heir and given him a future that was better than the one his brother had gifted him.

You should have done that no matter who he was, he thought as he furiously cleaved the wight in front of him in two.

"The time for regrets is over, Benjen Stark. Regret is one thing, but actions speak louder than words." the child had said to him while they were still in the cave.

"How? How can I make up for my inaction?"

"By helping him, by giving him the means to win this war. By giving him his family heirloom." the child had answered, handing him a package encased in a Targaryen banner.

"What…"

" You, we must bring this to him so his song could resonate through from the frozen lands to the scorched ones. This is the will of our Gods, my last chance to right the wrongs my kind has done so far."

" Then we will, my friend. We will go to the Wall and give this to Jon." Benjen had said with determination.

In all his desire to see his nephew once again, he had forgotten that the Night King could read his mind. Ever since they'd left the Heart Tree they'd been ambushed, and while they managed to defeat all their foes, Benjen and his companion were still far away from the Wall. The Child was starting to show signs of fatigue and Benjen had a hard time between focusing on his enemies and helping his new friend.

He felt it, the change in the Night King's mood. Something was going on that pleased the monster, and Benjen felt scared to think of what it could be.

"He is at the Wall. The Song, I can feel him!" the child exclaimed.

"Jon? Jon is close?" Benjen gasped, feeling invigorated by the nod given to him.

You will not reach him. I will kill you before you do . the Night King countered as Benjen saw another flood of wights, this time with a White Walker with them.

He cursed out loud and grabbed his Dragonglass ax tightly in his hand. This one would be much harder to kill and he would have to get rid of all the wights beforehand, for they would be a hindrance against the White Walker. For hours he fought, bravely and tirelessly, yet the flow kept on coming.

"Aim for their Master, I will take care of them." the child said with determination.

"The last time we tried this, we almost got killed." Benejn protested.

"We are running out of time!" the child retorted, almost as desperate as Benjen felt.

"He's too far away!"

"Here! Take this!"

Benjen watched with shock as the child lifted part of the banner to get the most beautiful bow Benjen had ever seen in his life and even after it had ended. It was all white, obviously made out of Weirwood, and seemed to have been made recently, yet felt very ancient at the touch.

"Bloodraven never missed his target with this bow. It is blessed by the Gods." the child said, panting, as he used his to prevent the dead from advancing.

He hadn't loosed an arrow for a long time, having trained more efficiently with an ax and a longsword when he was in the Watch, but he was willing to try for the sake of reaching his nephew.

May the Old gods give me the strength to draw the string as it should be and to loose the arrow straight into this fucker! Benjen prayed as he took a dragon glass pointed one to aim at the White Walker. Lyanna, you were always better at this than me, I swear I will not leave your son's side if you grant me your strength!

The welcome noise of ice cracking after his arrow found its target was music to his ears, even more, when he saw the wights fall one by one after this. It validated his previous findings and confirmed his suspicions. If it took to end a White Walker to end the wights they had raised, then surely ending the Night King would stop the entire army.

Feeling his enemy shudder at his thought, he knew he had realized something crucial. More than ever, he needed to get to Jon to tell him of the Night King's weakness.