A Prince of House Targaryen

The Wildling Princess Val

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The Following SEVEN Chapters are avaliable for Patrons.

Chapter 21 (ColdHands, and Wildling Camp), Chapter 22 (The King Beyond The Wall), Chapter 23 (Treason, and Lies), Chapter 24 (Wildling Warrior), Chapter 25 (A Lone Wolf), Chapter 26 (Passion Under The Stars), and Chapter 27 (The Truth) are already available for Patrons.

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Jon Snow

The bastard boy stood in front of the door that led inside the chamber where Maester Aemon resides; the guard following him knocked on the door roughly, with a disgusted look on his face.

"Old dragon, someone is here to see you," he spoke with a sneer in his voice; Jon figured he must be a Baratheon loyalist to have a personal vendetta against Maester Aemon.

Jon ignored his nasty tone towards the Maester; he heard an old voice coming from the other side of the door.

"Come in,"

The guard made a disgusted face before walking away; Jon slowly opened the door, a metal sound coming from the rotten metal that connected the door with the doorframe.

The maester was sitting in a chair, his eyes half-closed and blind, his hair long gone except for a few strands of white hair at the top of his head; despite his old age, his skin looked much younger than that of old nan who should be a few decades younger than the old dragon maester, Jon wondered just how old he was, a kind smile on his face, as his eyes went to Jon.

The bastard could tell he was blind, yet when his eyes made contact with his, for a moment, he could have sworn that the maester could see him somehow.

"Come closer, my boy, don't stand there," the old maester finally spoke, with a wave of his hand, gesturing for him to get closer. That seemed to make Jon escape his thoughts; with a loud cough, he closed the door behind him before walking over to the maester.

Scooting out a chair, he sat down; the only sound in the room was the sound of the fire cracking in the fireplace.

"What can I do for you, my boy? Your steps are light; you must be a young one!" The maester spoke, his voice old but wise, the smile not leaving his face.

Jon wondered how he could tell that he was young just by listening to his footsteps; he decided to ignore that and just get straight to the point; the wise maester didn't have time to hear him asking questions about footsteps.

"An old friend of yours told me to give you this message," Jon finally spoke, his hands spread on the table.

The maester had no visible reaction to his words other than raising his eyebrow, leaning a bit closer. "Message, what message, young lad?" He asked with a neutral tone, not showing any kind of emotions.

"When the Winter comes, the Dragons will be reborn; their flames will show the way to a new Age of Summer," Jon spoke the message that Bloodraven had given him.

The moment his words left his mouth, The Old maester's mouth widened slightly before closing; for a few seconds, he was silent before a soft smile spread across his old face, for a moment making him look young again.

His shaky hands moved from underneath the table before moving towards Jon, who had a puzzled look on his face, not understanding what the old maester wanted to do.

"Can I?" He asked, his voice sounding happy; Jon simply leaned forward, the old maester's hands touching his cheek, jawline, cheekbones, and chin. What could be described as a bitter laugh escaped his lips, his hands moving away.