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Jon stood motionless, hand still clasping Bran's. His expression was serene now, almost otherworldly, his lips parting slightly as if he were breathing in something unseen.
Daenerys watched, transfixed, torn between awe and fear. The idea that such truths could be shown, not spoken, not imagined, but lived was almost godlike. She turned to Aeron, studying him.
"You knew this would happen," she said softly. "You planned this."
Aeron's gaze didn't leave Jon. "He deserved the truth," he said simply. "No man should live his whole life in a shadowed lie not him, not you, not anyone."
Daenerys said nothing for a while. Her expression softened as she watched Jon his hand still on Bran's, his body still as marble. The firelight painted his face with shifting golds and reds.
Finally, she whispered, almost to herself, "If this is true… then he's..."
Aeron turned to her, meeting her gaze steadily.
"Yes," he said. "He is blood of the dragon, Just like you."
Outside, thunder rolled over the sea low and distant, but heavy. The dragons in the skies above Dragonstone roared, their cries rumbling through the castle stones.
Jon's breath trembled as his eyes fluttered open. For a long moment, he did not speak. He simply sat there eyes wet, chest heaving his hand still clutching Bran's as if the connection hadn't yet broken. The faint glow faded from his brother's eyes, and the young Stark leaned back in his chair, his expression calm.
Daenerys was the first to move. She took a cautious step forward, her face a blend of worry and wonder. "Jon…?" she asked softly.
Jon finally looked up and the man who had faced death, betrayal, and war now looked utterly broken by truth. His voice came out low, shaking.
"I saw her… my mother," he whispered, his northern accent thick with emotion. "Lyanna Stark. She was so young… gods, she looked so young." His gaze drifted, lost between memory and the room. "And him… Rhaegar. He wasn't the monster I'd heard of. There was kindness in his eyes. He loved her."
Daenerys's lips parted slightly, a tremor running through her as she listened.
Jon's voice deepened, steadier now, but tears slipped freely down his face. "They wed in secret… in the light of the gods. Not a kidnapping. Not a rape. It was love. And when she gave birth to me…" He swallowed hard, his throat tightening. "She was dying. She begged my father.. Ned Stark, to protect me. 'Promise me, Ned,' she said. Again and again… 'Promise me.'"
He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, though more tears followed. "And he did. He kept that promise, even when it broke his honor. He raised me as his own… let the world call him unfaithful, let them call me a bastard, just to keep me safe. Because Robert Baratheon would've killed me for the blood I carry."
Daenerys turned away, pressing her lips together, her eyes glistening. Even Aeron calm as a still lake stood silent, watching with a quiet understanding in his violet gaze.
Jon drew a shaky breath, the faintest smile tugging at his lips through the sorrow. "My name… she whispered it to him before she died. Aegon. Aegon Targaryen."
The name hung in the air like a ghost.
Daenerys gasped softly, tears now flowing freely. "Aegon…" she murmured, her voice cracking. "My brother's son…"
Jon looked up at her. "Yes."
"Your aunt," she said quietly. "Your family." Her voice trembled, and for a heartbeat, she looked between him and Aeron, torn between joy and sorrow.
Jon let out a faint, wet laugh the sound of a man who'd finally found the truth yet felt its burden all the same. "Family," he repeated softly. "After all this time."
Silence filled the chamber. Bran's calm eyes met Aeron's, and the two men exchanged a knowing glance. Neither spoke, they didn't need to.
Finally, Jon turned toward Aeron, his tone low but sincere. "Thank you, your grace… for this. For the truth."
Aeron's violet eyes glowed faintly in the dim light. "There's no need to thank me," he said, his voice smooth yet weighted with meaning. "You deserved to know who you are. The truth was owed to you."
Jon nodded, then looked toward Bran. "And you, brother… thank you."
Bran inclined his head slightly. "The truth always finds its way, Jon. You only needed to see it."
For a moment, no one spoke. Only the soft wind through the balcony doors filled the silence. Then Daenerys, voice fragile but steady, said, "I can't believe it… I thought I was the last. And now…" She looked at Jon, tears still on her cheeks. "Another Targaryen stands before me."
Her gaze shifted toward Aeron. "Since he is Rhaegar's son, you know what this makes him, don't you?"
Aeron gave a faint nod, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "Yes. The rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms."
Jon's eyes widened slightly, then he exhaled, shaking his head with a small, almost incredulous laugh. "Aye, well… I've had my fill of crown heads." He looked between them, the tension breaking into something almost lighthearted. "The current king isn't half bad, from what I've seen."
Aeron chuckled quietly. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Daenerys smiled softly through her tears.
Aeron stepped forward, placing a hand on Jon's shoulder. "It's your choice whether this truth stays between us or the world learns of it. Either way, I will see your name cleared. No more Snow, a Stark by blood, and by right."
Jon hesitated, his expression softening into gratitude. "You've already done more than I could ask. Keep it between us. I know who I am now... and that's enough."
Aeron nodded once, firm and respectful. "As you wish."
Daenerys smiled faintly, her eyes still shimmering as she looked at both men, one her blood, the other her king. "Then let this truth stay between us."
The three of them stood there, bound not by politics or conquest, but by something far older and truer. Blood, truth and destiny.
The meeting had ended, the sound of the waves below replacing thunder's roar. Jon stood still for a long moment after the truth had been spoken, as if unsure how to move in a world that suddenly felt heavier and lighter all at once.
Finally, he inclined his head to both Aeron and Daenerys his eyes lingering on them with newfound respect. "Thank you, truly." he said, voice steady but soft. "For showing me what I never thought I'd know."
Aeron gave a single nod. "Take your time, Jon. Truth needs tempering."
Jon managed a faint smile at that, then turned and walked toward the great carved doors. The sound of his boots echoed once, twice, before fading into the corridor beyond.
Only when he was gone did Aeron's voice break the silence. "Bran, stay."
The boy in the chair said nothing, merely blinked slowly, the flicker of torchlight glinting in his pale eyes. Daenerys turned toward Aeron, surprised by his tone.
She hesitated for a heartbeat then, without words, stepped close and wrapped her arms around him. The movement was soft, graceful, genuine. Her head rested briefly against his chest, the warmth of the firelight dancing across her silver hair.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. "Now I understand what you meant…"
Aeron's arm came around her, his fingers brushing lightly through her hair as he looked down at her. "I wanted to do this some time ago," he said quietly, his tone low and thoughtful, "but I simply never had the chance."
He looked over Daenerys's shoulder his eyes, glowing faintly violet, landing on Bran Stark. "The old man chose well," Aeron said, a trace of something resembling respect in his voice. "A decent candidate for the power of the Three-Eyed Raven."
Bran's gaze was unreadable, but his voice was calm, as though time itself moved slower for him. "You received my raven." he said.
Aeron nodded. "I did. While I was fighting in the North, I got your message.. urging me to spare the Children of the Forest." He exhaled softly, almost as if amused. "I was not planning to harm them. Their existence isn't mine to unmake."
Bran blinked once, his tone steady as stone. "I know. But it was necessary that I send it."
Daenerys looked between the two, silent but curious, sensing the depth in their exchange.
Bran continued, "The Children remain hidden, still watching. I will guide them. I will see to it that the mistakes of the past do not repeat themselves." His hands rested lightly on the arms of his chair, his tone distant, almost otherworldly. "The cycle must end. Man and magic must find balance again."
Aeron's expression softened in understanding. "Then we're of one mind," he said at last. "The world we build will need both shadow and sight."
Bran inclined his head slightly. "And perhaps this time, the living will remember their debts to the dead."
Daenerys stepped back from Aeron's embrace, looking at both men. "It feels as though we're standing on the edge of something… vast," she said quietly.
Aeron looked out toward the open balcony, where the faint cries of dragons echoed over the sea. "We are," he said simply. "And the next chapter of this realm begins with those willing to see, and those willing to change."
Bran's eyes, pale as moonlight, flickered with faint knowing. "Then may you rule wisely, Aeron of Shadow. For the song of this world has not ended… only begun anew."
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