I wanted to write this fanfic for a long time with Jon grows up in Essos and then became commander of the Golden Company. I was very much inspired by the fanfic A Dragon Will Take Us Home, which is one of the best I've ever read. This is also my first fanfic of this fandom and also the first fanfic I ever write.

Before you start reading, I want to tell you that English is not my mother tongue and that it may have grammatical and syntax errors. I tried to write it with what I remembered from schools and what the internet has to offer.

This story will have a relationship: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen/Rhaella Targaryen

His true name will be revealed as the story proceeds.

I posted this story also on Ao3 and Wattpad.

283 AC

Battle of the Trident

While lying on the ground dying, with the armour smashed by the war-hammer of Robert Baratheon, the Prince thought back to the happy moments of his life: the birth of his children Aegon and Rhaenys, the happy moments spent with his mother Rhaella, trying to make her smile after the mistreatment suffered by his father, Aerys, and finally, the last days spent with his beloved Lyanna in the Tower of Joy and who now would have given him another child, whom he will never be able to see. He remembers his promise to Lyanna before he leaves: to return to her.

"I'm sorry, Lyanna. I couldn't keep my promise."

And so dies, Rhaegar of House Targaryen, son of King Aerys II and Queen Rhaella, The Last Dragon.

Robert was standing over the lifeless body of the damned Rhaegar Targaryen, with the hammer in his hand, breathing fast. He could feel the fury running through his veins watching the body of the bastard who kidnapped and raped his Lyanna.

All around him was chaos. The men stopped from fighting, throwing themselves into the ford, trying to pick up the rubies that had been scattered when he smashed his hammer on Rhaegar Targaryen breastplate.

"Robert!" he heard him calling and saw Jon and Ned coming.

"Are you all right, boy?" Jon asked, placing his hand on his shoulder.

"Yes. Now that this bastard is dead," Robert said with contempt. "Throw his body in the ford with the rest of the corpses. Let the crows feast on his bloody body." Robert spat out.

At that same moment, he felt a great twinge in his left side and when he looked down, he saw his armour stained with red. And then he fell to the ground.

Robert woke up with a scream when he felt his wound burn, and saw a man treating him while Ned and Jon held him down. By the gods, if it wasn't for them, he was ready to smash someone's head in order to suppress the pain.

"What the fuck happened," Robert asked, once they let him go.

"During your fight with Prince Rhaegar, you were wounded in the shoulder and under the arm, in the weak point of your armour," Ned said, and Robert gave him a mortal look when he mentioned the title 'Prince. The damn man wasn't a prince of anything. He wasn't royalty.

At the same time, Robert saw Roose Bolton come in with his usual cold, expressionless face, and that could not be read, saying, "Barristan Selmy has been captured, but he is wounded."

"Enough," Robert said to the master, pushing him away. "Have him treated by our masters and bring him before me."

"Your Grace. It would be better not to keep him alive. He is a Targaryen loyalist."

"No. He is one of the greatest knights of the Seven Kingdoms and will become my Kingsguard."

"Robert-"

"Enough Jon. The decision is made. Send the master to him, and start the march on the capital," Robert said. He wanted all those dragonspawns dead. Underground. And especially that fool of Aerys who killed two great men. "Ned. You have the command of the army. March on the capital and take your revenge on the Mad King. Destroy any army that stands before you. Lannister, Tyrell, Martell. Every damn loyalist. I will follow you soon enough."

Ned nodded, and left the tent, while he took a cup of wine, and asked some camp whore to be sent to him. He needs a good fuck to heal his body and cheer him up.

A few days later...

King's Landing

Before even receiving news of the fall of the last dragon, Tywin gathered twelve thousand men and marched them to the gates of King's Landing, with the intention of obtaining his revenge against that damned Aerys. If Rhaegar had won, Tywin would have demanded that he took his daughter Cersei as wife. But since it is Robert Baratheon the winner, Tywin will see to it that he gives him the throne and the Targaryen bodies, in exchange for Cersei to be queen.

And about two weeks after he left the Westerlands, the great news reached the capital. Rhaegar Targaryen, the last of the dragons, fell under the mighty hammer of the Stag, and Tywin after sending a raven to Pycelle for him to persuade Aerys to open the gates.

And now he was there with his army outside the gates of the city. But he was confident that Pycelle would open them. Meanwhile, he called to his tent, Clegane.

"Lord Tywin," he said as he entered, greeting him, with his powerful voice.

"Clegane. I have work for you. When we attack the city, I want you to march straight to Prince Aegon and Princess Rhaenys' room and kill them. I want to see their dead bodies before the Iron Throne," said Tywin, "and kill Elia Martell too." And the Mountains growled with a smirk as he left the tent, and when Tywin came out, he saw a scout coming from the city.

"Lord Tywin the gates of the city are open."

"Good. Order the assault on the city. Let the Red Keep be sacked to the bone and stormed. Kill any loyalist Targaryen you find." And he saw his army charging into the city.

At last, he will have his revenge on Aerys and House Targaryen. On Elia Martell, who stole his daughter's place as queen, and on all King's Landing.

It was dawn when Ned and the rebel army finally reached the capital, tired, hungry, and bloodstained after a long and forced march, to reach the city in time before the Crown's reinforcement arrives knowing that the city gates would be closed, and a long siege would await them.

"Smoke, my lord. The city is in rebellion," said Lord Umber, and Ned looked towards the capital for a moment before resuming the ride. This was not good. Not at all. An angry crowd was as dangerous for them as it was for the enemy.

As they got closer and closer, Ned saw in the distance that the gates of the city were open, and a knight was riding towards them, waving in the air the banner of the Golden Lion on the red field. Lannister.

"Welcome, my lord. Lord Tywin sends his regards, and awaits you inside the Red Keep," said the man.

Ned, looking towards Umber nodded before snapping the reins and riding towards the city, never leaving his guard low. Tywin Lannister had been sitting outside this war the whole time, and now he attacks the Targaryen? This gives him the warning that the Old Lion can't be trusted.

A few hours later...

King's Landing: the throne room

Eddard Stark was in the throne room with all the lords of the north, looking with horror at the mutilated and lifeless bodies of Princess Elia Martell and her children. Then he looked at Robert and saw that he was indifferent, and even though he didn't smile, he was satisfied in seeing them lying dead there.

"Robert! You can't let this thing pass without justice," Ned said, stepping forward, aloud and angrily. "The Mountain and his men must be sentenced to death for what they did, just as the Lannisters must answer for having sacked the city, reaped and killed innocent people."

"Innocent!" Robert said, raising his voice, "there are no innocent people fighting on the side of the dragons, murderers, and rapists. What do you think Rhaegar did to your sister, eh? Kidnapped, raped and who knows what else!"

"If you do not condemn them for the crimes committed, you are not better than the Mad King!"

"How dare you, damn you!" Robert said, grabbing his hammer in hand and charging him.

Ned unleashed his sword immediately, barely parrying Robert's attack, and heard drawing sword behind him too, those of the northern lords and of the Stormlands lords. He was sure that his Lords will defend him at all costs, especially Great Jon Umber who fears no one.

Then he heard Jon Arryn shout, and coming between them, "Enough! I have raised you both and I will not see or allow you to kill each other. The Seven Kingdoms have bled enough!" And Ned saw the burning rage on Robert's face, and how he was breathing fast almost shaking in wrath.

"I thought you were a better man Robert," Ned said, looking at him with contempt. "I'm going to Storm's End to break the siege and then go in search for my sister. I advise you to send the bodies of Elia and her children to Dorne, so that they may have a proper burial, and if you want that there is peace in the Seven Kingdoms."

With that last speech, Eddard left the throne room, furious, despite Robert's curses and shouts behind him, and for sure stopped by Jon.

Outside the Red Keep he saw Lord Varys waiting for him in his usual position with the hand in the sleeves, and who said only two words "Joy and Dorne". Then he left heading who knows where.

Dragonstone

While Rhaella was sitting in the room of the painted table, she thought back to the events that lead to this chaos. The growing madness of her husband reached its peak with the killing of the Warden of the North and his heir, putting half the kingdom against their house. She still remembers when he was in his youth, handsome, clever, full of very good ideals and project for the Seven Kingdoms and how everyone expected him to bring House Targaryen to its ancient glory. To the Golden age of the reign of King Jaehaerys Targaryen. And what a delusion he had become through the years, reaching its peak with this.

And Rhaegar's actions were no different, choosing love instead of duty. Running away with the daughter of the Warden of the North and betrothed of the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, Robert Baratheon, a lord with the strongest claim to the Iron Throne, after the member of House Targaryen. What a foolishness. And all this to make true a prophecy that someone wrote in a book hundreds of years ago.

Looking at the Narrow Sea from the window of the room, Rhaella thought about the child that she was carrying in her womb. What life will he have if they lose this war. Will he be alive or dead, a king or a peasant, and will he live in a world and kingdom full of chaos or in a peaceful one? As she was thinking, Rhaella saw with the corner of her eyes, the Master of Dragonstone entering.

"What is it?" she asked as she was caressing her belly when she felt the baby kick.

"A raven has arrived from King's landing, your grace," he said, and Rhaella immediately took the scroll from his hand when he was next to her and read it.

My Queen,

Prince Rhaegar fell under the hammer of Robert Baratheon, the loyalist army is on the run. The Lannisters had sacked the city. The bodies of Elia, of Princess Rhaenys, and little Aegon lie lifeless and disrespected at the foot of the Iron throne. The rebels are divided now because Lord Stark is disgusted by these atrocities and demands justice, which the Usurper doesn't want to give. Furious stormed out of the throne room, despite the screams of Robert, to search for his sister and I believe they will March with their armies on the Stormlands, and then sail for Dragonstone.

Thanks to this distraction, I implore you, your grace, flee from Dragonstone and go to Essos as soon as possible.

Your trusty servant,

Lord Varys

Master of whisperers

Rhaella felt the tears starting to fall at learning this horrendous news and told the Maester, the servant, and the guards to leave her alone.

When everyone had left the room, she let herself be overcome by the emotion and cried with all her strength, thinking of little Aegon, little Rhaenys, and poor Elia, victims of this chaos. They were innocent, with the only fault of being bonded to House Targaryen, by marriage or by birth. And an old man and a whoring man fearing them.

She now hopes that death will come for all those who had stained their hands with the death of the innocent.

A few days have passed since the shocking news from the capital arrived and Rhaella still did not know how to tell her son about the death of his brother and father. People he loved and admired, to her disappointment regarding the king.

After a while, Rhaella saw Viserys running in with tears in his eyes. He must have heard of Kings Landing's downfall.

"Muña, Muña, iksis ziry drēje bona Kepa iksis morghe?" he cried while hugging her. (Mother, Mother, is it true that Father is dead?)

"Yes, my son. He died, along with your nephew and niece and Elia," she answered, feeling the tears coming down too.

"And Rhaegar too?"

"Yes, him too, my little boy. But we will avenge him," she answered, kissing him on the head. "You, me, and this little baby that is soon going to be born. We will avenge Rhaegar."

"And Kepa. I will bring fire and blood upon them. Muña," he said with his little voice, and for a moment it was like hearing Aerys again. But shaking her head Rhaella threw away those ugly memories and said, "Now go my little one. Go and get ready. Soon you'll be a king," she kissed him on the head and saw him running away.

Perhaps when he grows up, Viserys will really be able to challenge the Usurper. Perhaps he'll have the same personality and charisma to inspire men as Rhaegar once did.

All of Dragonstone was gathered in the throne room, with the Septon saying the prayer of the Seven, while her little son was on his knees, a little frightened and confused in front of the stone throne.

For the coronation, considering that Aerys' crown remained in King's Landing, and certainly lost, they were using her crown.

"In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim you, Viserys of House Targaryen, third of his name. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." And the Septon placed the crown on her son's head "Long may he reign."

"Long may he reign," everyone who was inside shouted. And Viserys got up and sat down on the Throne of Dragonstone, where Aegon sat before the conquest.

One by one the lords loyal to Dragonstone and the surrounding area approached the throne, giving their homage and swearing allegiance to the new king, and Rhaella looked proudly upon her son, who himself had a proud expression on his face, but she was also aware of the danger looming over them, and that soon they would have to flee to safety. The usurper will send his men her to kill them.

Kings Landing

After Ned left for Storm's End, Robert continued to rage over the way his old best friend treated him. Jon did everything he could to stop him from another possible war, as he wanted to march against Ned and demand his head. Only the promise that he would soon have Lyanna Stark back in his arms would placate him, despite the fact that he continued to rage.

But now there was another enemy to face. Or rather, a lion to tame. The great and powerful Tywin Lannister. A man feared by everyone after the Rains of Castamere, and now he has handed Robert King's Landing and the Iron Throne.

As he entered into the old hall of The Mad King's Small Council, Jon saw that Lord Tywin was already waiting for him, with his son, Jaime, beside him, and Ser Kevan Lannister.

"Lord Lannister," greeted him Jon, sitting down on the chair, on the other side of the table facing the Lord of Castely Rock.

"Lord Arryn," greeted him the Old Lion. "We both know why we're here, Lord Arryn."

"Yes, we know," Jon said, swallowing. He could see in his eyes how calculating, ruthless, intelligent, and politically cunning he was. And the last part came into play right now.

"Now that Robert Baratheon will sit on the Iron Throne, he'll need a good wife with a great name behind her. My daughter is young, beautiful, and unmarried. She bears the name of one of the oldest families in Westeros and at the same time the richest and most powerful."

Now it was getting complicated. Everything the old lion said was true, and he was the only one with a fresh, and powerful army. If he decided to attack them, they would have nothing to oppose them with. But there was still the matter of Lyanna Stark. Robert will never agree to marry a woman other than Lyanna.

"Well, Lord Arryn?" asked old Lionel when he got no answer from him. "What do you say?"

"Everything you said is true, but it is not for me to decide that, my lord. It is Lord Baratheon who will have to do. I can only advise him."

"Then let's hope you advise him well," said Tywin, getting up and leaving the room, followed by the other two who accompanied him.

Sighing Jon got up and headed for Robert's room. He really didn't know what to do about it, but what he was sure was that he should talk to Robert about it and show him that marrying Cersei Lannister is the best thing for the Seven Kingdoms.

Robert was in his room with some whores in bed. Ever since the fight with Ned, the only thing he has done was drinking and fucking, fucking and drinking, day and night. But the only face he was seeing on the whores' faces was one. Lyanna. His Lyanna. And he couldn't wait to hold her in his arms again.

As he was standing in front of the window, all naked, tasting another goblet of this sweet wine, with the whores waiting for him in the bed, Robert heard a knock at the door and saw Jon come in, who released a sigh shaking his head.

"What?" Robert asked, shrugging his shoulders, returning to the bed to put on something, while Jon sent the whores away, to his displease.

"Robert, we have to talk about something very important," Jon said, and Robert rolled his eyes. He was too drunk and too tired for a serious conversation. But knowing that there was no winning way with his guardian, he asked twirling the goblet, "About what?"

"About your future queen."

"My future queen is Lyanna!" Robert snapped angrily. He could not imagine of another woman beside him, that will bear his children or rule by his side.

Jon sighed, approached him, "I know how much you love that girl, Robert, but you know there's a chance she might be dead. Or maybe worse."

"No!" shouted Robert, shaking the hand from his shoulder. "She's alive and will come back to me. We are destined to be together. And to rule together."

"Please, Robert. You must think of the realm and not of your heart now that you are king. Put the duty over the love."

"If I am king, then I can choose who I want as my queen," Robert replied, by drowning another mug of wine, then wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Not in these dark times, Robert," replied Jon, approaching him again. "I know you've always dreamed of uniting Stark and Targaryen, and perhaps one day you will. But not today. We're in a dangerous situation now that we've taken the throne. We need strong allies to keep the crown. Or at least until Dragonstone falls."

Robert thought for a moment about what Jon said, and even if this choice drove him mad, he knew Jon was right, but he still won't accept it until he knows that Lyanna is alive and safe.

So, taking another sip of wine, he asked, "And who's the lucky lady?"

"Lady Cersei. Lord Tywin Lannister's daughter. She is 17, but the bards had signed about her beauty across Westeros since she was born."

"Damn the golden lion," Robert muttered. The damned man has always dreamed of marrying his ruined daughter to a king. First, he wanted to do it to that madman of Rhaegar fucking Targaryen. And now he throws her into his arms.

"Well, Robert? Do you accept?" asked Jon bringing him back form the thoughts

"I must think on it."

"There's no better match for the Seven Kingdom than the Lannisters, right now, Robert. They're rich, strong, and they were neutral during the rebellion."

"And damn ambitious those damn cowards," Robert added with contempt. "Leave me alone to think. You'll have my answer soon."

Jon nodded and left the room, while Robert, having finished the goblet, turned the table upside in anger. Bloody golden cunts. If he accepts this, he will be corned by the golden cunts.

Storm's End

When Eddard arrived at Storm's End, after a week of hard march from the capital with the Northern army, he didn't even have to fight because Mace Tyrell immediately surrendered bend the knee to the new King, when he saw the rebel army, despite outnumbering them.

After Mace Tyrell went back to Highgarden in peace, Eddard meets with Stannis Baratheon in the commander's tent of the camp that was erected outside the Storm's End.

"Thank you, Lord stark, for breaking the siege," he said, in a serious expression. It could be seen the tiredness on his face because of the long siege that took almost a year and because of almost starvation.

"You are welcome Lord Stannis," said Eddard, offering him a cup of wine, who declined though.

"Are the news from the capital true?" asked the young Baratheon and Ned know fully well to what he was referring to.

"Yes, and that's why I broke my friendship with Robert. He is no longer the boy I knew, or maybe mine has been just an illusion, and the real Robert had always been like that. "

"I know my brother; he has always been like that. But maybe the crown will put him in line."

"I hope it will. And I'm sure you will be a good Lord for the Stormlands," said Ned taking a sip of wine, and Stannis nodded. Now that Robert was King these lands should pass by law to Stannis.

When Ned saw his lords enter the tent, he said, "Lord Stannis can you give me a moment with my Lords."

Stannis nodded and left the tent, and once he was alone with them, Ned said, "My Lords. When I was in King's Landing, I received news that my sister is at the Tower of Joy, in Dorne. I'm sure it will be defended by the three best Kingsguard, since they were not at the Trident, nor at King's Landing, and they are neither at Dragonstone. I ask ten volunteers to come with me, but before deciding, I want you to know that there is a possibility of no return. For all of us."

He saw Howland Reed, William Dustin, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Theon Wull, Mark Ryswell, Brandon Snow, Rickon Flint, Bowen Karstark, and Thorren Norrey, step forward.

"Thank you, my lords. Lord Umber, Lord Bolton, make sure the army returns to the North safe and sound, and that my family joins me in Winterfell. If I don't return from the expedition my brother Benjen will rule the North till my son comes to age. I recommend, my lords, that the information about my sister's location doesn't leave this tent."

They all nodded and left the tent, starting to give orders to dismantle the camp before midday and leave for the North. For home.

Dragonstone

Rhaella was sitting in front of the painted table with part of the household of Dragonstone around it, or to be more precise, the new Small Council of the King Viserys, since the old small council except Varys, will be for sure serving the Usurper.

"What news from the Seven Kingdoms?" she asked.

"Lord Tyrell has surrendered to Lord Stark, breaking, therefore, the siege of Storm's End; the Baratheon fleet is now blocking Dragonstone; Robert Baratheon remains at King's Landing and his coronation will take place in a month."

Rhaella nodded and asked that everyone leave the room except for Willem Darry. She needs to give him an important task, and no one other needs to know about it.

"Lord Darry, I want to ask you a favour."

"I'm at your service, your grace. I would do anything for House Targaryen," he said with a bow, and the hand on his chest.

"When the baby is born, I want you to take him and Viserys to safety, away from Dragonstone," felling her chest tightening at thinking herself separate from her beautiful children. But it needs to be done.

"But your grace, you..."

"I'm sure I won't survive this birth. So, I want to make sure that my children survive. You have to take them to Essos."

"I give you my word that I will protect them with my own life and that I will raise them as if they were my own children, your grace. And when the time comes, I will help them retake what is rightfully theirs with Fire and blood," he said looking down, and Rhaella believed him. Every word he said because he was a man of honour and of his word.

"Thank you, Ser Willem. Now you can go," she said, and with a bow, the Knight left.

She then leaned against the chair, caressing her belly, and looked from the window to the horizon, realizing a defeated sigh.

After a moment, Rhaella, getting up slowly, approached the great opening of the window admiring the setting of the sunset on the horizon. Who knows how many she will see in the future, or maybe this will be the last one, from the ancient home of her family.