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A Prince of House Targaryen Chapter 12 (A Prince of The North)
🕑 Added 2022-04-06 18:48:24 +0000 UTCJon had outsmarted Robb on this last history exam. He hadn't meant to do any harm, but his achievement had put Lady Stark into a rather sour mood. He had overheard her remarks to Maester Luwin asking if Jon could have cheated. "This is the fifth time he has bettered Robb. Perhaps he should be taken out of your tutelage so that-"
"I will do as Lord Stark commands, my Lady, and Lord Stark commands me to teach Jon just as I would Robb. However," he paused chewing over her words. "If he should take interest in not attending to his studies, I suppose I wouldn't protest too much."
Jon hit the tree ever harder as their words rang through his head. Why was he even studying anyways? It's not like it would matter since he could never be a Stark - never need the knowledge to run a castle and rule over lands.
His wooden sword snapped in two with a thwack . It went twirling out to his right and into the underbrush. He groaned, knowing that he would have to explain how the sword broke in two to the Master-at arms, Rodrick Cassel.
"Dammit," he muttered. Jon had recently taken to swearing under his breath, trying to imitate the men around him in Winterfell. He also found it relieved some stress when he said them.
"Is that anyway for a young man to speak?" asked a raspy, thin voice from a distance.
Jon looked about him, trying to find the source of the voice. Finding himself quite alone, he went back to looking for the wooden sword blade, convincing himself the voice had been in his head.
"Is this the first time we have met?" The same voice asked.
"Who's there?" Jon called out. Unsure of what to do. It was still bright and sunny in the clearing where he stood, but the forest canopy blocked out the light beyond him, and he began to imagine a number of different persons lurking in the din. "Speak plainly to me in full view, and I will not tell my father of your trespassing." Jon tried to muster as much authority in his voice as he could, but that was a tall order for any near-nine-year-old, and he sounded all the more a child.
"That will be a problem, child, for I am not here."
"Do not tease me, I am the son of Lord Stark." Jon threatened again. He hoped his postering would be enough to scare this person away.
"Yes, the son of Winterfell with no name. How curious you would lie to me."
"I didn't lie. I told the truth. That's the honourable thing to do" He didn't know why, but he wanted to justify himself to this man, even if it made no sense. Someone should know that he was only ever trying to do the honourable thing. Like his father. He thought doing well in his studies would make his father proud, but it only cause Lady Stark to despise him more.
"Honourable, yes, but stupid."
"How dare you-"
"Do not interrupt me, boy!" The raspy voice rang through the air and the winds picked up and the leaves and grass rustled in the breeze. "Heed this warning: not all who strive for honour are rewarded. Patients and knowledge are far more valuable and powerful."
"Who are you?!" Jon yelled, angry at being belittled. It seems he would never escape being berated by others.
"Who are you?" The voice asked back.
Just as Jon made to reply, he felt a cold snap within his head, like when one would eat too much snow. It was uncomfortable and jarring. One moment he was Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell, the next he was a bird of prey, eyeing the landscape with a piercing gaze.
The hawk spotted deer grazing in the high fields next to the grand stone nest where the humans lived. The hawk was briefly remorseful for the nest he and his mate had built the previous year, which was destroyed by those humans not long after his mate had laid her eggs, but just as quickly turned its attention back to hunting.
It scanned the landscape, knowing that rabbits and hares were threaded through the knolls. It's stomach was empty from days of no success. It needed a kill, and soon, if it was to live to the next mating season.
There!
A rabbit was grazing on grass, oblivious to the danger it was in.
The hawk dove down.
Jon was pulled from the hawk with another cold snap. This time he drifted into a rabbit.
Run. Hide. Run. Hide. The rabbit thought in a panic. A creature of death had swooped down from the skies and closed its talons upon the back of its sister as they ate a mid day meal.
Death. Death comes for us , the rabbit squeaked as it bounced towards its home. The rabbit bounced down towards their mother who was watching after his sister's kit. Death. Death. Sister. Death.
There was a sombre if not panicked atmosphere in the den after the rabbit announced what happened.The survival of the younglings unknown at this time.
Another cold snap occurred, and Jon was back in the hawk.
It plucked and pulled at the tendons of the rabbit, blood-spewing onto the grass where it died. Every so often the hawk scanned its surroundings before gulping back another morsel of meat. The hawk ate until it was full, leaving a large amount of meat lying on the ground. If he was lucky, he might come back here tomorrow and find it still available to eat. If not, well, he would have to hunt again.
The hawk took flight, its wings emboldened by the energy its meal provided it. The hawk was fulfilled, satisfied with its conquest.
Jon felt another snap, and he was back in his own body. He cried out, as if in pain, but he wasn't really. He took a deep, full breath as he shrunk to the ground wiggling his fingers and toes almost to remind himself how they worked. He landed on his rear, but sat forward, unnerved by what had occurred.
"Was th-that real? What did y-you do?" Jon stammered. Was it all a dream?
"That was skinchanging, child. You have this inert ability which I merely guided you through."
"N-no," Jon defended. "That's for Wildlings and m-monsters. I'm n-neither."
"So you say." There was an eerie silence which followed his statement. A bastard doesn't have to be a monster! Jon thought despairingly.
"Tell me," the voice said finally breaking the silence. "Why should the hawk kill the rabbit? The hawk brought such misery to the rabbits simply to satisfy its hunger. Would it not be more honourable to object to doing this?"
"Th-the hawk needs to eat." Jon muttered, still confused by his circumstances.
"Yet this is at the expense of the rabbit."
Jon remained silent, unsure about what he was trying to say.
"No response? Very well, I will end our conversation today by saying that you must overcome this crippling desire to do the right thing to please others. Sometimes the right thing is catastrophic for others, killing a young rabbit so that you can satiate your hunger, for instance. And sometimes it's a simple bump in the road: outperforming others in their studies, perhaps." Jon let out a breath he had been holding in. He knows about all this? "Whatever the case," he continued. "Be certain that you can live with your choices. You might die if you don't eat a necessary meal, or you may lose out on necessary knowledge if you let the voices of others dictate your life."
"Why do you care?" Jon retorted, he wanted to cry in frustration, but held his emotions in.
"Because of the future boy."
The forest and fields went silent as the wind died. Jon was left sitting with a wooden hilt in his hand wondering about his sanity. He got up and absentmindedly walked back towards Winterfell and into his room. He sat on his bed and stared at the fireplace where the coals of last nights fire remained.
Skin changing? I'm no skinchanger! I can't be. This couldn't have happened. Perhaps the sword hit my head and I dreamt this up as I lay unconscious.
"Jon!" Robb yelled as he came barging into his room. "Supper is being served! They're serving the rabbit the huntsmen caught today!"
Jon's stomach lurched as he sat down for his meal. He had never been opposed to eating rabbit until this very night. Now the chunks of meat upon his plate with the stewed leeks and salted carrots made him think of the dream he had, and how terrified he was of the hawk.
"Aren't you going to eat, Jon?" Robb questioned him, mouth full of rabbit and carrots.
Jon's stomach growled as if in response, and Jon remembered the satisfaction of the hawk as it ate the rabbit's flesh, and his mouth watered.
"Yes, sorry, I was thinking." he said before stuffing himself on rabbit.
"You don't have to tell me that! Maybe if you do less thinking, I would be able to beat you one day."
Jon grinned at that. "I think I'd have to be hit in the head with a rock for you to smarter than me," he jested, earning an astonished face from his half-brother. "Besides I think if you studied harder rather than playing in the crypts or godswood you might close the gap between us a little."
This earned him a limp leek to his face, and a disgruntled Lord Stark put an end to their rambunctiousness.
"I'm sorry I said that," Jon said to Robb as they were sent to their rooms without further food.
"It's okay, I guess you're right, my Lady mother says as much." Jon grimaced at that.
As Jon lay on his bed that night, he made the decision that he would continue studying, even harder, maybe. He liked knowing things anyways, and he liked at least knowing more than Robb, even if he knew he shouldn't if he wanted to be a good brother.
Jon didn't know if that voice had been real, but he knew he didn't want to sacrifice his studies. At least, he wouldn't sacrifice this for the sake of staying away from Lady Stark's gaze.
"I'll find something to read, then," Jon listlessly responded to the Maester.
"Good, good," Luwin chirped. "You know, you would make a good student at the citadel if you ever wanted to join. They accept anyone willing to learn."
Jon wrinkled his nose at the suggestion, but replied with a "Thank you, Maester. I'll think on it."
Jon spent the next couple hours reading by the sunlight streaming through the windows. He was so absorbed in his reading, that he barely noticed the change in light until he looked up after hearing a noise.
"Is someone there?" he asked. "Arya? Luwin?"
When no answer came, he decided to mark his place by leaving a piece of loose paper where he stopped and placed the book back upon the shelf where he found it. When he turned to leave, he heard the noise again. It was a voice, he was sure. Raspy and distant, just like...
Jon's heart began to race, and his fingers became clammy. Last time had just been a dream. He hadn't actually spoken to a disembodied voice, it was all in his head.
"Come to the forest." It called. "Come to the forest."
"I'm sorry to disturb your reading," the voice said. "But you really must be practiced in other matters as well."
"Come towards the weirwood. Let me show you what is real and what is delusion."
Jon wanted to turn away and run, but he knew whatever this was would only haunt him forever after. So, he walked, slowly, towards the heart tree, careful to spot anyone in the Godswood who might be pulling his leg or speaking to him.
When he arrived at the pool, he looked towards the weeping face of the heart tree. It's mouth turned down in a grimace. From what Jon could only imagine.
"Do you see?" The voice asked calmly.
"See what?" Jon whispered back, not wanting to be heard by any who might walk by.
"Not with those eyes," the voice said, winds picking up. "But with your third eye. This eye." Jon, again, felt a cold snap in his mind and a weightlessness as he drifted through nothingness.
At last he found his footing along the edge of a cliff. Paws softly padded along the side as Jon looked about. There was a cold breeze, but the usual ruinous chill barely registered through the thick fur. Sleep the creature thought, and Jon too, felt the need to close his eyes. The mountain cat opened its maw in a giant yawn escaped it. The mountain cat had spotted an overhang not too far from where it was, it would need to climb higher to rest there for the night.
"Take control," the voice said. "Go right if it wants to go left."
The cat snarled at whatever it heard. Danger it thought. Attack. Kill.
"Take control, boy." The cat shook its head and began to run along the cliff face.
"Take control." The cat swerved to the left, up the mountain towards the cavern it spotted.
"Take control."
It was as if Jon had emerged from a deep sleep. In this waking world though, he fought in ways he never thought possible before. His mind was flooded with thoughts of fleeing, escaping to a safe place. He made a concerted effort to suppress those thoughts. To stop. To turn right. To begin walking down the slope.
What is happening? Jon thought. Or was it the mountain cat that thought those things?
The longer Jon was in charge of moving this body, the weaker he felt. Controlling this cat was more taxing than he ever thought was possible. Not even after several hours of training in the yard did Jon feel this exhausted. Is this real? Is this skin changing? Jon looked around through the eyes of a cat, and noticed things he knew he never would have as a human. Movement to his left made him stop, crouching in anticipation. Mice were scavenging about the loose rocks, causing the ruckus. Jon continued on, since he wasn't hungry. At least not for mice.
At last he made it to the valley. The grass felt nice between his toes and he swept his tail along the green blades. A creek ran through a divot between hills and he could hear the trickling of water even from a distance. Jon and the mountain cat paused for a moment to take in the scenery.
It was no long before they spotted another mountain cat marching into the valley. The male cat in the distance marched towards them, staring intently. Why, was lost to Jon.
We are both men. If he wants to fight, I shall fight.
Run , the cat thought. Flee. Not now. Not like this . Before Jon could understand how a cat could have coherent thought, the male cat had made huge strides towards them. It was aggressive in its stance, and it seemed as though it wouldn't let them go.
Jon turned to run back up the side of the cliff, such as the mountain cat's avid desire. Jon could hear the other cat . For every stride they made up the side, the other male made three. Jon felt so tired. All too soon, the male pounced upon them, and Jon rolled onto their back to attack him with their claws. It was only now that he could see how much larger and older this cat was than themselves.
The male persisted, his teeth bared. Together, they hissed out a sign of protest. Jon tried to roll back on their feet, but the male continued and jumped upon their back. They fell down chest first, and the male cat shifted his position and dug sharp claws along his back. Jon's breathing became laboured as he felt his hide break apart and hot blood gush out on his fur.
There was a cold snap within his head.
"That's enough for today," the voice said.
Jon collapsed on all fours as if he were still a cat, taking laboured breaths.
"What," Jon gasped. "What was that? What happened?"
"That was you skinchanging into a mountain cat. What happened is...regrettable. I did not anticipate those events. But what it amounts to is the strong overpowering the weak."
That voice said I was a skinchanger, and what I experienced to day, and several months ago, is difficult to explain away as something else.
He wanted me to do it, but how is it done when I've never done it myself? He thought he should at least try, however. If not, that being might find out and haunt him some more.
He sat on his bed, legs crossed, eyes closed, trying to will his mind into an animal. There weren't any animals in his room, though. So he thought that perhaps that was a place he needed to start. He would try, he would fail, and he would go to sleep.
Singing, That's all Jon could hear, the sweet sound of a bird, he looked around and saw himself trying to penetrate frozen water with his beak, his eyes looked around the courtyard, the people of Winterfell were going around doing their business, servants, guards, Jon wanted to smile, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt so free, he didn't feel like a bastard anymore, No, he felt, Free.
Jon made the bird look at the wings, as if trying to make sure he did have wings, much to his delight, he had, Jon knew he could fly like this, fly away from the glares, from everything, to see everything out there, to fly high in the sky, like a Dragon.
Jon smiled inside, before trying to drink water, he figured the bird must be thirsty, as his beak penetrated the thin ice, he started drinking water, before raising his beak, letting the water wash his throat.
Jon felt like singing, the bird left out a melodic sound, Jon smiled before he heard a whistle, it was a very familiar whistle, he turned around, to the right.
In front of him stood a kid, but not just any kid, it was himself, crouching on the snow in front of him.
What is This?? Jon started to panic before everything went Dark.
Opening his eyes, Jon saw nothing, the darkness had surrounded him, the silence was everywhere around, Am I dead?
"You're not Dead, young Prince," a voice suddenly echoed in the darkness, turning around, Jon could make a face surrounded by branches, a thin white branch sticking out of his left eye, his right eye was still there.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Brynden Rivers, Bloodraven,"
Comments
Drinor
I will rewrite a few parts to make the chapter better. Thanks for reading my Story
Chris Prevou
Interesting but honestly it's entirely too confusing for jumping around so much. I don't mind for storytelling purposes but at least try to mark some timeframe, like this makes so little sense, we have jumped around decades it feels like with Jon being barely 2 to being 5 to being older than 5 back to him being young, I mean just a general timeline and maybe smoothening that out some would make this story so much more enjoyable. Even if just a short expose from the character of how old they are would work.also, Patience, not patients, that's two different things. Love the story premise though. It's really nice to see world building instead of just jumping to the end, though I'm thoroughly confused at this point about what has happened when.
LittleHowy
I love the story and I can't wait until canon starts! Though the major Catelyn abuse and bashing I see coming in the future is a bit much in my opinion. I would like to see her put in her place eventually, but in a way where she's still married to Ned and part of the family. Either way great work. Keep Writing!
