Chapter Text
Chapter Three
Sneaking into Winterfell was really too easy. The amount of guards was pitiful for a castle the size of Winterfell, and scaling the wall while Raqiro watched overhead went smoothly. Then I was just another servant shuffling around in oversized furs, beneath the notice of guards. I move unseen into the crypts below the castle, lighting one of the torches at the entrance and carrying it with me, I approach Lyanna Stark’s tomb and statue. Behind the statue I pull at a loose stone that would’ve been impossible to find for someone who didn’t know it was there. Within the crevice revealed I pull out a golden dragon-shaped harp and aged leather-bound book; the treatise of the priest who married Rhaegar Targaryen to Lyanna Stark, the written documentation of the Song of Ice and Fire. This proof that Jon Snow is the- in some sense- legitimate king of the Seven Kingdoms, will be important to several steps of the plan. In fact, it’s probably the most important writing in all of Westeros. As I exit the crypts I also stop at Torrhen
Stark’s tomb, and after a humbling amount of effort to move the stone coffin lid, remove a long package from atop his rotted corpse before replacing the lid and leaving.
Getting into a room with the one true king of Westeros is a little harder but ultimately still child’s play, but that’s a little unfair to say, Ned Stark’s defense of anonymity actually works well when you don’t have secret information revealed through dreams. I still haven’t seen the Three-Eyed Raven in my dreams except when seeing it on the television in my other life. I wonder if he is the one guiding my dreams or if it truly is whatever elder being the Drowned God is. Waiting for the moment Rodrik Cassel takes Robb aside to have him spar someone else doesn’t take long, and I’m able to approach Jon while he takes a break.
“Hello Jon Snow, would you care to know who your mother was?” Refuge in audacity and all that.
“What?! Who are you even? What?” Jon was understandably confused.
“I am Dagon Greyjoy, and I am one of three people who know your true parentage: Myself, ‘most honorable’ Ned Stark, and his close friend Howland Reed.”
“Greyjoy?! How did you get this deep North, are you here for Theon? How do you know about my mother?”
“A boat, and I could give two shits about that little twerp Theon. Meet me in the Godswood tonight. I'll explain everything there. Tell no one about our meeting.”
“Why can’t you just tell me my mother’s name now? And why shouldn’t I talk about you” Jon still hasn’t clocked that this already unusual situation was about to get bigger.
“You have no reason to trust me yet, but ‘honorable’ Lord Eddard Stark would kill me, and I promise you you're going to want the time to uh process.” No one ever said I wasn’t a dramatic fucker. What’s life without a little pizazz? (I’m totally going to introduce the words pizazz and crap to Westeros, Drowned God below there are so many words I could “invent.”) Jon’s eyes narrowed at my words before he nodded.
“Jon! You’re up for sparing again, get warmed up!”
By the time Jon had turned back around I was already shuffling down the hallway, heading to wait out in the Godswood.
Hours later Jon entered the clearing of the heart tree with Ghost at his side. While I waited, Raqiro had caught a raven coming from the direction of Castle Cerwyn. It seems Lord Cerwyn had indeed reached out to his neighbor liege lord about his missing daughter but Raqiro quite enjoyed hunting ravens and was quite good at it. I stepped out from my “hiding spot” behind the heart tree.
“You came, and seemingly didn’t blab. You are far too trusting, Your Grace.” A lot of this plan hinges on convincing people to go against their nature. It's not a very good plan in that case, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t try to live my perfect life. It’s not how I remember either world functioning, but maybe, just maybe it’ll work.
“What’s that supposed to mean Greyjoy?” With that I knelt before him and offered up the priest’s documents.
“It means you are Jaehaerys Targaryen, third of your name, true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, rightful king of Westeros.” Jon’s shocked face was glorious, but it quickly turned bitter and suspicious.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing Greyjoy, but joking about my mother is…”
“Your Grace, it is no joke. I believe you know it to be true, I suspect you’ve had strange dreams before, but if you don’t believe me… I brought proof. Read, read the pact of Ice and Fire.” Jon now suddenly looked much more conflicted. With a tentative hand he took the book and began to read.
Minutes later, Jon, now Jaehaerys, sat catatonic. The revelation so immense, his life so irrevocably changed.
“H-how did you find this? Why reveal this to me?” Jon spoke in a shaky voice.
“I have magical dreams which reveal things to me, such as this book and harp Eddard Stark hid behind Lyanna’s statue in the crypts. And of course I mean to put you on the Iron Throne.”
“What? What?! Is-is this a joke now?”
“Nope, my father- Euron Greyjoy- married my mother Lady Gehenna Farwynd because of her family’s history of magic being present in the bloodline. While many members over the years have been wargs, I am the only who has shown to be similar at least in function to what you would know as a greenseer. I believe that not only do you fulfill several ancient prophecies, but between your dragonblood, Northern honor, and experiences as a bastard you are a perfect fit for king. Questions?”
“I’m going to ignore the treason part… are you really saying you have magic powers?”
“How else would you explain how I’ve found a full set of Valyrian armor, and four different Valyrian steel weapons? Including Dark Sister which I have here and just found in the crypts left behind by Brynden Rivers when he was sent to the wall?”
“By the Gods! This is Dark Sister!”
“I’m also an incredibly powerful warg which you also are as well.”
“…”
“Alright sorry. At this point I have been doing this on purpose because your reactions are enjoyable, but there is one more pressing matter… I have seen the future: Your uncle Viserys is trying to sell his sister- your aunt- Daenerys to a savage Dothraki Khal. The kingdom is falling apart as nearly every member of the king’s small council is sabotaging the crown, and the king himself is a fat drunkard who is unfit to rule. After he dies your sister Sansa ends up beaten, humiliated, and raped, and Arya escapes this fate by becoming an assassin. Finally the Others are real and the Night King ends the world. However, if you come with me I believe we can prevent all these things.”
“… that’s a lot to take in Greyjoy! But… I believe you, but come with you? Shouldn’t we convince my fa- er uncle? He is Warden of the North.”
“The same Lord Stark who not only lied to you your whole life, but was actively pushing you to take the black where you be surrounded by murderers, thieves, and rapists all because he wanted to protect his fat fuck of a friend by having you take oaths that prevent you from holding titles? I was legitimately worried he’d just kill me, it’s not like I haven’t done anything to deserve it, and then send you to the wall anyway… Listen, my plan takes you away from your family, yes, but I do it to save all your family including those across the sea, and if I stay here or leave without you it becomes likely I cannot then leave or come back respectively.”
“Really? What have you done?”
“I’m a true Ironborn, follower of the Old Ways, and my father was infamous… I am not a good person Jon, but I am the one who can put you on the throne. Leave letters to all your family, tell them the truth if you want- they might not believe it without evidence except for Lord Stark- but it will give them a warning.”
“…Okay okay. If we’re going to do this I want to know the plan beforehand.”
“Fair enough Your Grace. Alright here it is…”