Chapter Text
Summary: After Jon Snow killed Daenerys beside the Iron Throne, Drogon decided to burn him alive. But instead of eternal darkness, he was greeted with warm furs and a soft bed in Winterfell. Now Jon must find a way to keep his family alive. But there is only one month left before the arrival of King Robert.
He can no longer be a brooding bastard of the North, he has to become a player of the Game for the Iron Throne and ensure his family’s survival and peace in Westeros.
The good thing is that Arya returned along with him.
With their memories of their previous life, they have a pretty good idea of how to fix things, unfortunately there is a complication…
It wasn’t just their minds that woke up in the past… but their grown up bodies too…
(for those that didn’t understand the last sentence: In most time travel stories it’s only the memories that return, but here, Jon fully returned to the past. Meaning scars, strength, and that beard.) (lol, this shall be fun)
*don’t expect this to be overly serious*
Alright….
I am nowhere close to finishing any of my stories, but this idea just kept bothering me. I know this is just another time-travel fanfic, where Jon returns to the past…
but… this wouldn’t leave me alone, so I just wrote it as quickly as I could.
If there are any mistakes then please forgive me, I haven’t read the books, I’ve only watched the show. I watched it in russian, but here I am writing in English, and it can be quite hard to correctly translate all the dialogues from the show.
I apologize for any inconveniences, but rewatching the whole show in english wasn’t an option. English is my third language after all.
If you find any mistakes please inform me, I will be glad to fix it.
A few extra notes:
this will not follow the exact timeline of episodes
there will be no Jon/Dany (sorry, but I don’t write incest in any form)
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Chapter 1
Jon Snow / Aegon Targaryen
He woke up with a gasp. The last thing he remembered was dragon fire engulfing him after he killed Daenerys. He was supposed to die. There was supposed to be nothing but darkness. Instead there was a soft bed under him and soft furs. And there was light coming from the window.
Last time he died there was nothing but cold and darkness, this time he felt warm. Perhaps it was the dragon fire. Last time he died in the snow and woke up freezing.
Jon sat up and looked around. This was not his room. It was Winterfell for sure, but it wasn’t the room he occupied ever since he and Sansa took the North back from Boltons.
After a moment he realized where he was. This was his childhood room. There were some clothes slung on the chair. Clothes that were too light to wear in the North during Winter.
Why was he in Winterfell? And why was he in his old room?
He stood up and walked to the window.
It was sunny.
No, that couldn’t be right. It was supposed to be snowing in Winterfell. Instead of cold wind there was a warm breeze, and instead of snow, there was dirt on the ground. As he looked around he realized that this was before the King arrived to the North. Before his family was torn apart by the war.
Were the past 8 years a dream?
There was a small mirror in the corner of his room. He looked at himself, and what he saw scared him even more.
His hair was longer than it was 8 years ago. He had a beard. And all his scars were there.
If his body was the same, then why was he in the place and time of his younger self?
There was something wrong. He didn’t know how this was possible. But his scars proved that what he lived through was true.
When Drogon turned to him and burned him down, he expected to die. But here he was. Alive. And 8 years into the past.
He was terrified. Of course this might be a good turn of events. He could now save his family and prevent wars. But he had no way to explain that he all of a sudden looked almost a decade older than he did the day before. He wouldn’t be able to explain his scars.
And if he told them the truth they would think he has gone mad. Or maybe they would believe him? He was living proof that he traveled through time. He also had knowledge of things he wasn’t supposed to know.
For example he now knew the truth about his mother. He knew about the politics of Westeros. And he knew of Wildlings beyond the wall.
Ygritte. The thought of Ygritte being alive brought him relief. He always blamed himself for her death, and now he could prevent it. But he had no way to go beyond the wall without joining the Night’s Watch. And he had no desire to reside at the Wall with the same men that killed him a few years ago.
The possibilities he had were endless. He could claim the Iron Throne. He could go North of the wall and live with the free folk. He could stop many deaths. He could kill all his enemies.
No.
He stopped himself. There was one thing he knew for sure at this moment. He had to stop the army of the dead. No matter what, he couldn’t ignore the upcoming war of the Dawn.
To defeat the dead he would need a big army. He needed Daenerys’ dragons.
Most importantly he needed to unite Westeros. And there was only one way to do that.
He would take his rightful place as the King of the seven Kingdoms.
He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a knock on the door. He looked around startled. He found a shirt and trousers. They didn’t fit him well, they were too small for him. But they would do for now.
Then he remembered that he now had a beard.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
That was the only thought he had in his head. How would he explain that he suddenly became older? He wasted his time planning his future instead of thinking of an excuse.
He heard the knock again.
It must be Robb. He would often knock on his door when they were children to go to breakfast together.
As he dressed himself he looked around. He had no knife. No means to shave off his beard.
He had no choice but to call out.
“Who’s there?”
There was silence for a while before a quiet voice answered him.
“It’s Arya you idiot.”
He let out a heavy breath and relaxed a bit. He could find a way to buy her silence. She wouldn’t go to her parents which would buy him time.
He slowly walked to the door. Dreading the moment he would open the door and face his cousin(sister).
The knocking stopped and once again he heard Arya’s voice.
“Open the fucking door before I have to break through it.”
Jon paused.
‘Fucking door’? He has only heard Arya swear when they met again before the Long Night.
She would never swear before.
He unlocked the door and opened it.
The moment he lightly pushed it, Arya pushed herself through and slammed the door faster then he had time to react.
He stepped back and looked at her.
She was not a 11 year old as he expected her to be. No she was 18. She looked exactly the same way she did before he killed Daenerys.
So he was not in the past? Why did winterfell look like it did eight years ago if they were not in the past.
“Arya? What are you doing here?”
She huffed.
“You mean what are we both doing in the past?”
Jon blinked a few times.
“So I’m not seeing things? We are truly in the past?”
Arya rolled her eyes.
“Yes. I woke up in my old room after that cunt of a Dragon burned me.”
Jon looked surprised. He was sure she would have run away from King’s Landing.
“So he burned you after me? Then it explains why we are both dead.”
“Yes but that doesn’t explain why we are in the past.”
Jon looked around once again.
He still couldn’t believe that he was back in Winterfell.
But Arya was here. And she was also older than she was supposed to be.
If earlier he had doubt that he was truly in the past and that it wasn’t all a dream, then now he had no doubts.
“Do you know if anyone else was brought back?”
Arya sat down on the bed and looked up.
“When I woke up I knew there was something wrong. I had to sneak into Robb’s room to steal some clothes that would fit me. He was still asleep. So was Sansa and my parents.”
She looked out the window.
“We are the only ones.”
Jon sat on the chair that was standing not far from his bed.
“What are we gonna do? There is no way that we can explain how it is that we look older than we did yesterday. If I didn’t have scars then I could shave and pass off as a 16 year old. But you don’t look like a girl of ten and one.”
She nodded. Arya was calmer than he was. or she was j
She stood up.
“We have a couple hours until breakfast. I suggest we go to father’s solar and tell him what happened.”
Jon snorted.
“There is no way that he’ll believe us.”
“He’s not blind. He will see that we look older.”
Jon bit his lip.
“That is if he even recognizes us.”
Arya glared at him.
“I am glad that you finally have some sense of humor, but that will not help our case. We need our father to hide us somewhere. We can’t be seen at Winterfell.”
Jon stood up and turned to face the door.
When he died the first time at the Wall, he came back a changed man. He stopped being so boring and dull. He started enjoying life more.
After his death he realised that he had friends and allies.
And now he was back to nowhere. The only things that kept his memory of his past life fresh are his scars and muscle. His shoulders were broader and he could feel how uncomfortably small the shirt was.
He was no longer a boy of six and ten. He was a grown man who has seen battles and death.
“Alright then. Let’s go tell father of our adventures.”
Arya frowned.
“You mean your uncle?”
It was meant as a joke. but Jon knew that he would have to be careful with that bit of information. Arya’s words served as a reminder that they didn’t need to tell Ned Stark everything.
“No Arya. Father. He raised me as his son. And even if he is not my real father, he will always be like one to me.”
Arya nodded and walked past him.
“We have to walk quickly. Follow me, and hope that no one recognizes us.”
With that she opened the door and walked out.
It was too late to turn back so he followed her. He kept his face down and walked in the darkest corners of the halls that lead them to Ned Stark’s solar.
He has faced Wildling, Ramsay Bolton, an army of the dead, he has been killed twice now, yet he couldn’t stop the feelings of dread and fear.
Once again he felt like a small batard boy, who had no power and respect.
He once again was Jon Snow, the bastard of Winterfell.
Chapter Text
Chapter 2
I decided that I want more than two characters to return. Please comment and let me know what two other characters you think should come back.
(Arya Stark)
When she saw Jon engulfed in Drogon’s flames, she thought she’d never see him again. But here he was two steps behind her, walking through their childhood home.
When she woke up and realized she was in the past she promised herself she would save her family. If it were only her mind that went to the past things would have been more simple. But life had a funny way of making everything complicated for her. She hadn’t grown much in height, but she no longer looked like a kid, and she could not pass off as a boy anymore.
She remembered the heat of the fire as she was set afire. The memory sent a slight chill down her spine.
The reason she went to Jon is because he was the one she trusted the most out of all her siblings. Also the fact that he died the same way she did, made her hope that he was back as well. It turned out to be true.
She felt relief when she heard his grown up voice behind the door. She supposed he was as scared as she was. Luckily she woke up earlier and had some time to gather some clothes. She doubted that even Sansa’s dresses would fit her now.
Arya glanced back at Jon as they walked with their heads down. The walk to their father’s solar was familiar. Arya has studied all passages and hidden hallways when she was a child. She would sneak out of her room and wonder around Winterfell.
The worry on Jon’s face was visible even in the dim light of the halls.
Arya stopped one turn away from their father’s room and peered over the edge of the wall. There was a guard.
She turned to Jon and motioned him to be quiet and stay in place.
He was too heavy to walk on the wooden floor without it creaking. So she would have to be the one to knock him out.
She raised an eyebrow and looked at Jon, silently asking him “Are you ready?”.
He nodded once.
She turned back to the guard and made the first step.
As silently as a cat she walked up to the guard that was too busy looking elsewhere.
Killing him would have been faster, but she doubted anyone would be happy that good guards are being killed for no reason.
As the guard turned she punched him before he could even understand what he saw and call for aid. He fell to the floor unconscious.
Jon was by her side in a few seconds.
They exchanged a quick glance before she grabbed the handle of the door leading to their father’s room. Their father was not asleep. She could hear the silent rustle of paper on his desk. She turned the door knob and pushed the door open.
As the door opened their father instantly reached for his weapon. But he stopped and froze the moment he saw the two of them.
They probably looked like shit. Tired, scared, and not very well clothed.
For a second she could imagine that she was once again a little girl. And the shock on father’s face was there only because of her dirtied skirts.
If only they had more time to stand there. If only she could continue standing there and looking at her father with his head still on his shoulders.
But there was no time.
The King was coming to Winterfell along with the Lannisters. And they had to stop the next eight years from going the same way.
She snapped out of her thoughts and pushed Jon through the door before walking in and slamming the door behind her back. She locked it before once again looking at her father.
“Good Morning father. I believe we need to discuss a few matters.”
Her father finally snapped out of his stupor.
“Who are you?”
Arya glanced at Jon.
“Jon, did I really change that much?”
Jon glared at her slightly.
“There is no time for jokes Arya.”
Arya huffed and turned back to her father.
“Do you still not recognize us?”
Ned Stark stood up from his chair.
“Arya?”
She nodded.
“Yes, the one and only.”
He leaned onto his desk.
“But… But you look…”
“As though I am eight years older than I am supposed to be? Yes. That is exactly the reason why Jon and I are here.”
Her father turned to Jon. Suddenly his eyes were filled with sorrow.
Jon was standing uncomfortably in the middle of the room looking at the ground.
Arya looked between the two.
“Does he really look like Rhaegar? I always thought he looked much like Uncle Benjen.”
Both men’s heads snapped to look at her.
Jon huffed and shook his head.
“Must we really start with this?”
Meanwhile their father looked down at his desk.
“So you know about your parentage?”
Jon nodded.
“Yes I do. But it matters not. You raised me like your own son. Therefore you will always be my father.”
Ned Stark looked up at Jon. He looked as though he was about to say something but Arya interrupted him.
“We need your help father.”
He blinked a few times before turning to look at her.
“It would seem so…”
“We woke up in our beds today, after we died. It was eight years into the future.”
Ned shook his head.
“What you speak of is impossible.”
Jon took a step forward.
“Look at us. We don’t look like the children we were yesterday. If what we speak of is impossible then why do we look older? And how would we know about my true parents?”
“I don’t know…”
Arya walked up to her father.
“We lived eight years afte this day. After that, all the Starks will be dead. You were dead. Mother was dead. Robb was dead. Rickon was dead too. Only Sansa and Bran remained. But Bran was no longer himself, he became the three eyed raven.”
Ned finally snapped.
“What you speak of is a child’s tale.”
Arya glared at him.
“If this were a child’s tale then I would look like a girl of ten and one and Jon would look no older than Robb. But here we stand, looking older than we are. I have trouble believing this is not a dream. My family was dead, and now they’re not. Winterfell was destroyed, now it’s not.”
Ned Stark sat down but kept looking at her and then at Jon.
“How did you… return in time?”
Jon let out a heavy breath.
“Dragon Fire. Daenerys Targaryen will birth three dragons in less than a year. And in eight years she will try to take the Iron Throne.”
Ned’s eyes widened.
“She returned to Westeros?”
Jon nodded.
“She did. And she took the throne with Blood and Fire. By the end she was as crazy as her father. She burned down King’s Landing along with thousands of innocents.”
Arya noticed her brother’s discomfort.
“Two of her dragons died. The third one burned Jon and I. And then we woke up here in Winterfell. Eight years into the past.”
Ned Stark ran a hand through his hair.
“No one would believe your tale.”
“We have proof.”
Jon put his hand on Arya’s shoulder.
“They would look at us and think that we are just liars. No one would believe that we are who we say we are.”
Arya snorted.
“Perhaps. Or perhaps we could use the fact that you fucked your own aunt as proof that you’re a Targaryen.”
The room froze. Arya knew that Jon didn’t want everyone to know about this. But she felt that their father deserved to know the truth.
Jon turned away from her.
“I didn’t know she was my aunt! I had no idea that I was a Targaryen. I loved her. It hurt to find out that she was my aunt.”
The two of them looked at their father. He was definitely not impressed by this. He looked shocked at Arya’s choice of words and at the revelation.
“I suppose that is better than if you were siblings.”
Jon shook his head and glared at Arya once again.
“We don’t have time for this. We need a place to hide while the King is here. I could pretend that I’ve left to join the Watch. But no one would believe that Lord Stark’s youngest daughter suddenly looks older than his oldest son.”
Arya bit her lip.
“No one looks what I look like. We could find a girl that is similar in age and make her take my place. The King doesn’t know what I look like.”
“What about everyone who lives in Winterfell? Should we pay them to keep their mouths shut, or will you simply threaten to slit their throats at night?”
Arya snorted.
“That would be a lot of throats to slit, don’t you think?”
Jon was about to say something before their father put a stop to their bickering.
“That’s enough! We won’t get anywhere if you fight amongst each other.”
Jon took a deep breath and turned to their father.
“We could say that Arya has gone missing. We still have some time until King Robert arrives. If we sneak out today then by the time he comes here, no one will question it.”
Ned shook his head.
“The two of you don’t have to leave. You don’t look too much like you did yesterday. I will send out people to “look” for Arya after breakfast. later we will tell the others what happened. Then you will explain exactly what happens in the future and what you plan on doing.”
Arya and Jon nodded.
She supposed that was their only option for now.
Their father continued.
“You two will go back to Jon’s room, and you will stay there until I come for you. We’ll discuss the rest with your mother and siblings.”
Jon nodded, and smiled slightly. A rare sight. Jon had never been one to smile.
But Arya didn’t nod.
She simply threw herself at her father and wrapped him in a hug.
She was not eager to see her mother’s reaction to her story. Her mother always believed she should act like a proper lady.
But if she had acted like Sansa, then she wouldn’t have made it far.
She wouldn’t have survived.
Her father hesitated or a second before wrapping his warm hands around her shoulders.
She smiled for the first time in a few weeks.
“Thank you father.”
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