DAGGERS TO THE HEART Part 1 - GAME OF THRONES

Jon I

Ringing, he heard ringing in his ears. How could he hear ringing when he was dead? Oh gods, had Melisandre found him and brought him back because they needed him to defeat the Night King? There were voices all around him, confusing him, through his eyelids, he could tell there was light, daylight, he could feel it on his skin. How? Had he slept through the rest of it, and it was over. He felt a slight pain in his leg, but not like it was, in fact the pain in his head was worse. He opened his eyes to see two faces looking down at him. Gods, had Robb and Theon come to get him? Had he already taken them? Then he realised this Theon wasn't the Theon he'd seen only a few hours earlier, and Robb was not a corpse.

"You alright?" Robb's face was full of concern. The younger version of Theon on the other hand could be relied on for being a complete twat, he burst out laughing.

Jon put his hand to his head and sat up. "What happened?" he screwed his eyes up, trying to adjust to the brightness and see where they were.

"You were too busy with that runt of yours Snow." Jon looked down and saw Ghost, but as a pup squirming in his cape. Theon laughed, but quickly stopped as Jon heard hooves approach.

"What's going on?" came the voice of Ned Stark. Jon looked up, his throat going dry.

"Jon fell off his horse father." Robb told him.

"Jon?" Ned raised an eyebrow.

"Ghost was wriggling about in my cape and I fell...Lord Stark." Jon lied, not having a clue what happened. "I banged my head, and I might have knocked my leg."

"Can you get up?" Ned asked as Jon passed Ghost to Robb, who now had two pups in his hands. Jon stood and began to walk around a little, the pain quickly easing. "Yer can still ride." Ned looked down. "Now get on with yer. Skies will be going dark soon, and I'm sure the girls will want to meet their pups." with that Ned turned and rode off. Jon mounted his horse and Robb handed the tiny white direwolf to him, which had stilled in his arms. He wrapped Ghost in his cape and they continued their ride back to Winterfell, giving him time to think.

What had happened? One minute Jon was laying in the snow in the Winterfell courtyard, dragons above, a broken leg and an army of dead about to slaughter him. He'd put the dagger in his heart like Bran, or the Three-Eyed-Raven had told him to. He thought it meant death, but Bran had been cryptic about the purpose of the dagger. He'd said something about them being able to stop the army of the dead, but it was hours ago. He couldn't remember word for word. Had he sent Jon back to a time where he could start to plan sooner? Giving them all a better chance of survival with longer preparation. Except there was one problem, he was only one man. Nobody would believe him and he was still young, for this was definitely the day they'd beheaded the deserter of the Night's Watch and found the direwolf pups. Jon took in his surroundings, they were just outside Winterfell, the grass was still green. It must still be late summer, maybe early autumn. Gods it was so long ago he honestly wasn't entirely sure. Matters weren't helped by the shocking headache he'd gotten from the fall, or was it from falling off a dragon.

The three of them urged their horses forward, catching up with the rest of the group, just in time for them to reach the gates of Winterfell. He heard a squeal and little Rickon had grabbed Shaggydog from Jory while images ran through his head; of a young boy running through a field, suddenly an arrow piercing his chest just before Jon was able to get to him. It looked like it did all of those years ago, before Theon and the Bolton's had damaged it. This was the castle he grew up in. Jon was so confused, he hadn't had time to feel any emotions at seeing the people he'd loved and lost. It felt like a dream, and if he allowed himself to become attached, he'd wake up screaming. He'd dreamed of his family before, so this was nothing new, except for the fact he was supposed to be dead. Deciding to enjoy dreaming about his carefree youth, he climbed down from his horse. In the courtyard Lady Stark was waiting for Lord Stark, alright, maybe jon wasn't going to be entirely carefree. Then he noticed his sisters, no cousins, he had to remind himself. Arya and Sansa were waiting for them, for the direwolves he believed. He was right except something was strange, instead of seeing an eleven year old Arya and a thirteen year old Sansa, he saw a faceless assassin with the look of Arya. Sansa was the Lady of Winterfell with the look of a young Sansa. Their posture wasn't that of children, it was that of the women they'd become. When Jon looked at them, they clearly recognised something in him. Did he look different too? Jon suddenly felt self conscious, although it only lasted a moment when Lady and Nymeria ran over to their owners. Needing to see if the girls were really in as much limbo as him, Jon made his way over to Arya. The person he wanted to speak to was Sansa, but they hadn't gotten on as children and it would look odd if he made his way to her first.