Fire Meets Ice

Targaryen Name

-Jon/Dany-

Rhaegal landed with a thud. Jon winced knowing that probably just woke everyone up in an instant. He quietly and slowly climbed off Rhaegal, but it didn't matter because as soon as he started walking away Rhaegal let out a roar and then took off, his wings beating through the air heavily.

Jon sighed and heard people talking and complaining through the walls, he ignored them and trudged through the snow towards Winterfell.

He made it into the warmth with another sigh.

He had thought getting some air would help, some space...but aside from having rid himself of the headache he had been suffering from, it did nothing.

He wasn't ready to go back to his chambers and sleep...so where could he go?

He knew almost immediately and started to walk in the direction of the crypts.

Was what he? The White Wolf! Was he a wolf? Partly...the white dragon? Who was he supposed to be? Who did the people look up to more?

Aegon Targaryen, heir to The Iron Throne, rightful King of Westeros...or Jon Snow, Bastard of Winterfell, King In The North.

Did it matter? Did he have to choose? He didn't want to live with two identities. He was Jon Snow. No...no he wasn't...he wasn't a Bastard...he couldn't call himself Snow anymore...it's a lie...

So Aegon? Was he ready to be Aegon? To be a Dragon...the King of Westeros?

Jon walked down the stone steps into the crypts, the air was freezing and still, it was almost enough to send shivers down Jon's spine.

He walked past the tombs of The Starks...Their faces frozen in stone forever...they were never to change position...they would just be...here...forever...in a cold dark place...

Knowing what its like after death was a scary thing...but was it really just darkness? When he died would he really never see Daenerys again?

He brunt that thought the second it came to mind, refusing to think about that.

His slow heavy steps came to a stop in front of Lyanna Stark's tomb. Her statue as cold and as stilled as the others.

He took a deep shaky breath.

"Mother..." he whispered raising his hand, he rested his palm of her freezing stone cheek.

He would never get to feel her warmth...her touch...he would never see her smile...never hear her laugh with joy or clap when he did something impressive...

"Are you proud of me mother? Or do you regret me? Do you blame me?" He whispered then broke down into a sob, his tears flowing more than ever before.

"She would be proud of you Jon." A familiar voice called out.

He turned to see Daenerys walking in slowly, a slight smile on her incredibly gorgeous face.

He watched her movements until she was giving him a hug, he buried his head in her shoulder and let himself cry.

Daenerys held him tight knowing it was the only thing she could do to really comfort him.

After a few solemn and emotional minutes, Jon pulled away from her shoulder.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and turned his head back to Lyanna's statue.

"I will never know her warmth...thats what hurts the most." He whispered.

Daenerys nodded. "I know..." she whispers in return.

Jon turns to look down at her, her eyes glassy with tears. "I never met my mother either...she also died...having me...sometimes I wonder if she's proud of me...what I have accomplished...part of me fights so hard because she gave up her life for mine...I owe it to her... to give everything I do my all."