Jonothor Targaryen - The Green Dragon

The Peacemakers

Being a newborn had been sheer torture for Jon. He had nothing to do but sleep, drink milk from a giant nipple, pissing, shitting and having his ass cleaned by a woman's hand. On top of that, he found Aegon more annoying that any creature he had ever met in his previous life. He knew he shouldn't hold it to his new brother, but Gods did he hate to hear him cry, and he cried all the bloody time. His first years would be the worst of his new life, of this he was sure. His only joys came from his mother, who often visited him to sing for him and his brother. That was one of the dreams Jon had craved to see fulfilled. How many times had he seen Lady Stark sing for Sansa ?For Arya ? For Bran ? For Rickon ? And Alicent, the only person he would ever call 'mother' in both of his lives, had answered his prayers and fulfilled the gaping hole in his heart.

Rhaenyra's visits had been another joy during his infancy, his sister always picked him over noisy Aegon, and proceeded to tell him her day. She talked about her Dragon, Syrax. About Ser Criston Cole, her handsome bodyguard. About their Father, about the noblemen and women at Court.
She would talk for hours until he fell asleep or a handmaiden would inform her that her baby brother needed to be fed. Then she'd reluctantly let him go.

Jon felt glorious by his sixth month, for he could finally crawl around the nursery and even the halls of the holdfast when his caretakers would neglect to close the door after their visit. After having been almost immobile for half a year, he felt delighted in being able to move about without the humiliation of being carried with his face plunged in a young woman's chest.

However, he'd always get a little carried away.

"Prince Jonothor!" Shouted one of the nannies as he crawled under his cradle in an effort to evade her tyrannical pursuit.

Much to his chagrin, the nanny always managed to pull him out from under the cradle without much trouble.

"You mustn't go running now, my prince," she said with a tired amusement.
Jon just laughed, this was just a game for him, and he was so utterly bored that he had to invent new ways of entertaining himself until he grew large enough to read and to join the training yard.

Perhaps he was enjoying the attention too much, now that he thought about it. Perhaps years of isolation as the Bastard of Winterfell had affected him far deeper than what he had expected.

Now he was a prince, and everyone was over the moon for him, except perhaps his father, but Jon had already had a father, and Viserys had duties to the Realm as King.

He couldn't fault his new father for being absent, and perhaps he was being too harsh. Jon himself would have no idea what to do with a six months old baby.

"My brother is already a terror then," Rhaenyra said with amusement as she entered the nursery along with her loyal knight, Ser Criston Cole.

If Jon was happy to see his sister, he honestly didn't know what to make of her sworn protector. Ser Criston had been one of the villains he and his brother Robb had impersonated during their children's games, but now Jon knew better than to judge a man through what maesters had written about him.

After all, he had half-expected Rhaenyra to outright hate him for being a boy, but instead, his sister had confessed her insecurities and enjoyed his presence for moons. If Jon could prevent the Dance of the Dragons then he would do everything in his power to achieve his goal. In the end, Rhaenyra's line had sat the Iron Throne, while the Targaryen-Hightower line went instinct. Jon would find a way to prevent this, he would never harm his sister and would protect his mother and siblings, this he vowed.

"Love is the death of duty."

He brushed away Maester Aemon's words, his duty was to the ones he loved, in that regard, he was reborn lucky.