Chapter 33: Revelations and Ancient Pacts
The Leywin hall was tense. Jaehaerys (formerly Jon Snow) stood awkwardly among the silver-haired strangers: Rhaella, Elia, young Aegon, Rhaenys, a sulking Viserys, and clinging Daenerys. Regis, for once, was silent beside Arthur Leywin.
Arthur stepped forward. "There are truths you must hear today, Jaehaerys Targaryen," he said. "Your name, the one you've lived by, is not your true name. You are not a bastard. You are Jaehaerys Targaryen, son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. You are a trueborn prince, born of ice and fire."
Jaehaerys reeled, paling. "Jaehaerys? But... my father was Ned Stark."
"Lord Eddard Stark was your uncle," Arthur corrected gently. "He raised you as his own, claiming you as his bastard to protect you from Robert Baratheon's wrath. He carried that secret to his grave to keep you safe."
"Jaehaerys... my grandson..." Rhaella gasped, tears in her eyes.
"Another Targaryen? Another rival?" Viserys scoffed, rising. "This changes nothing! I am the rightful King, the last living son of the true king! My claim is absolute!"
"Viserys," Arthur's voice cut through the hall, silencing the prince. "The Iron Throne is a trinket compared to what is coming. And Jaehaerys will have a crucial role to play, a role that dwarfs any kingly ambition."
Arthur turned to Jaehaerys. "Your path is tied to an ancient prophecy, one I encountered centuries ago, within another Aegon Targaryen—Aegon the Conqueror."
The Conqueror's Reckoning: A Pact of Fire and Will
"My Lord," Rhaella asked, "what was your relationship with Aegon the Conqueror? What was the nature of your pact?"
"To truly understand, you must see," Arthur said.
He cast an illusion. The hall vanished, replaced by the sunny battlements of Dragonstone. The family watched as a young Aegon Targaryen stood over a map. A raven landed, and Aegon read its message.
Then, Arthur's past self materialized beside him. His presence hummed with ancient power.
"'I am Arthur Leywin,'" the illusory Arthur said. "'And I am here to answer your message.'"
Aegon looked from the map to Arthur. "'My message was for the kings of Westeros. Are you a king, then, Lord Leywin?'"
"'I am more than a king,'" the illusory Arthur stated. "'I am the protector of the Gods Eye, the guardian of the Riverlands. If you or your oversized lizards set foot upon my domain, your house will go extinct. Not in generations, but in a single, devastating moment.'"
Aegon's jaw tightened. "'My dragons are the blood of Valyria! No king, no army, no thing in Westeros can stand before them!'"
"'Your "dragons" are mere hatchlings compared to the beasts that once flew in my skies,'" the illusory Arthur countered, a chilling edge to his voice. "'They are overgrown lizards that spit fire. Let them come to the lands of Leywin, and they will see a real dragon.'" His words hinted at unimaginable power.
The illusory Arthur stepped closer. "'You seek to conquer this continent. But understand this, Aegon Targaryen: I have walked this world since your ancestors were shepherds in Valyria. I have witnessed empires rise and fall. I was here before your dragons hatched, and I will be here long after your line turns to dust.'"
"'What... what are you?'" Aegon asked, desperation in his voice.
The illusory Arthur smiled faintly. "'I am the Lance, the Master of Fate, the Godkiller in another life. Here, I am Leywin the Soul Reaper, the Gods Eye Guardian, and the Immortal Lord of a land no one will ever conquer. Choose your path wisely, dragonlord. Westeros awaits your fire, but my domain awaits only your extinction.'"
The illusion shifted to Aegon's face as Arthur revealed the ancient threat. Aegon stared. "'You know of this darkness?'" he pressed.
"'I do,'" the illusory Arthur confirmed. "'It is an ancient enemy. A force of death and eternal winter. I have fought them. I have defeated them. And when the day comes, I will do it again.'"
Aegon's relief was clear, quickly replaced by calculation. "'Then you will aid me in uniting this realm. We will stand together.'"
"'My purpose is not to unite your realm, Aegon Targaryen,'" the illusory Arthur stated. "'My purpose is to protect. And my protection extends to the lands of House Leywin. You may do whatever you wish with the rest of Westeros. Conquer, burn, unite under your dragon banner. But understand this: No conqueror, no king, no army, no dragon, will ever graze my domain. My lands, the lands of Leywin, will be independent until the end of time. That is my absolute, unyielding decree.'"
Aegon's jaw clenched. He weighed the impossible task of conquering an immortal against his grand goal. His gaze flickered between the illusory Arthur and his sisters, then back to the map.
"'So be it,'" Aegon finally said, strained but accepting. "'The lands of Leywin, from the Gods Eye to the forks of the Trident, will remain untouched. A sovereign entity under your... protection. We will respect your borders, Immortal Lord.'"
The illusion faded, and the hall reappeared. The family blinked, disoriented.
"My message was received," Arthur said. "Aegon's conquest began. Dragons swept across the continent."
"Even before the dragons brought down strongholds like Harrenhal, Black Harren built his massive castle on the very edge of my protected Riverlands. It was a fortress built by a mortal king, its shadow looming over my domain. Harren would learn that some powers cannot be defied. The fate of Harrenhal, however, was for the dragons to deliver. The dragons were unleashed, but a boundary had been drawn."
Arthur paused, a softer tone entering his voice. "In the years that followed, as Aegon cemented his rule, our relationship deepened. He recognized the wisdom in my detachment, and I, the burden he bore. We became, in a strange way, quite close. He often sought my counsel on matters not of conquest, but of governance and the realm's welfare. He understood that while I would not fight his wars, my experience was invaluable in ensuring the world's survival from the darkness I had shown him."
"Let me be clear: the threat from beyond the Wall, the Night King and his army... I can destroy him, single-handedly. His forces would wither to dust with but a thought. This world, ultimately, is under my protection. Its core essence will not perish."
Gasps filled the room. Viserys's jaw dropped.
"Then... why?" Rhaella whispered, hope and confusion evident. "Why all this... if you can simply end it?"
"Because," Arthur explained, softening his voice, "my purpose is not to solve every problem for humanity, but to guide it, to nurture its growth, and ensure its long-term survival. Mortals must learn to stand for themselves, to find their own strength and unity. The prophecy of a champion, born of ice and fire, is not for my victory over the Night King, but for humanity's victory over its own divisions. It is about preparing this realm for challenges beyond a single foe, forging a legacy of unity that will endure. My family, the Archon Clan, are protectors of worlds, and this world is no different. The Old Gods of this land... they are connected to this planet's Leylines, powerful conduits of mana. Jaehaerys, as a Targaryen and a descendant of dragonlords, has a unique connection to these forces. He is key to unifying this realm and leading it into a new era, acting as a bridge between ancient powers and the mortal world. He is the champion of the Old Gods, not in wielding ultimate power against the Night King, but in his capacity to unite and inspire humanity."
The Tyrell Scheme
Just then, a raven arrived, bearing a message from Dorne. Arthur read it, his expression hardening.
"A scheme is afoot," Arthur announced, his voice laced with steel. "Olenna Tyrell, even in her old age, seeks to manipulate events. She intends to betroth her granddaughter, Margaery, to my son, Reynold, believing his connection to Leywin and my family will strengthen their influence. She desires a powerful alliance, but knows nothing of Jaehaerys's true identity."
"She presumes too much," Arthur growled. "I will not be a pawn in her games. My family's destinies are their own, not hers to manipulate."
"Scheming old ladies... always trouble," Regis said, a rare note of seriousness. "Point is, we don't need any more drama. Let the kid figure things out for himself."
An Immortal's Lineage: Arthur's Past
Rhaella, after taking in the illusion of Aegon and the revelation of Jaehaerys's true identity, looked at Arthur, her voice tinged with awe and confusion. "My Lord," she began, "you speak of millennia, of being more than a king. What are you, truly? What is your history?"
Arthur met her gaze, a profound weariness briefly shadowing his ancient eyes. "My history is long, Queen Rhaella, longer than any mortal could truly comprehend. I am fourteen thousand years old, not in a single, continuous life, but through cycles of death and rebirth."
He paused, collecting his thoughts. "In my last life, I was a king. My heart was consumed by revenge, not for a kingdom, but for a mother figure in an orphanage who had been taken from me. I fought with every fiber of my being to exact retribution. But even a king's strength has limits. I died, my body broken, my vengeance incomplete."
"But death was not the end. I was reincarnated in the body of a child, born to a new family, far from my old kingdom. My memories, my past, were fragments, whispers at the edge of my mind."
"When I was still very young, barely able to wield a blade, my new family decided to travel to the capital of the kingdom I was now serving. On the road, bandits attacked us. In the chaos, I was separated from my family, lost and alone."
"It was then, adrift and vulnerable, that I met her: Sylvie's mother, a being of immense wisdom and power, who became my beloved grandmother in this new existence. She found me, took me under her wing, and taught me truths of the universe I had never imagined. She showed me the path to power beyond mortal comprehension."
"Before she departed this realm, she entrusted me with a sacred duty. She gave me Sylvie's egg, a promise of a companion who would bind my fate to this world's deeper magic. A child, born of her lineage, and mine."
"Then came the war. Not of my old kingdom, but of this world, a conflict that ravaged the lands. I fought, I led, but the cost was immense. I lost a lot of things. I lost many companions, friends... and I lost my family once again. The war was brutal, merciless, and in the end, I lost the war itself. My enemies, too numerous, too powerful, overwhelmed me."
"I was dying. My body was broken, my strength failing, truly at my end. But in that moment, as the last vestiges of life drained from me, my daughter, Sylvie, in her nascent form, drew upon a power I didn't fully comprehend. She poured her essence into me, weaving herself into my very being, saving me from ultimate annihilation. Without her sacrifice, without her desperate act of love, I would not have become this strong. I would not be here, standing before you now, a master of fate and protector of worlds."
Arthur allowed another, more profound flicker of his true golden eyes to show, revealing the layers of ancient power and weary wisdom within them. "My kind are beings of immense power, masters of Aether, a fundamental force of creation. I am also ten percent what my world called Djinn. The Djinn were an ancient race, scholars of Aether, whose knowledge passed down to the Archon Clan, and through them, to me. This gives me a unique connection to certain ancient energies, even in this world."
"My family... my children, Sylvie, Reynold, and Tesia... they are not mortal. They are ancient beings, woven into this world's magic, all part of the family I named the Archon Clan. Sylvie, as you have seen, is a black dragon, capable of taking human form. Reynold and Tesia are legendary adventurers, whose travels span millennia. They are often away, exploring and observing this vast world."
"We are not of this world, Jaehaerys, but we are bound to it. We are its protectors. And you, as a Targaryen, as a descendant of the dragonlords, have a role to play in the coming conflict. You are the champion of the Old Gods."
Rhaella, Elia, and even Viserys stared at Arthur, awestruck. Jaehaerys, however, absorbed it with quiet intensity. He had always felt different. Perhaps this explained why.
"This is... much to take in," Jaehaerys said. "But I understand. I will do what I must."
Regis zipped around Jaehaerys's head. "Alright, frozen wolf! You're a dragon now! Time to stop moping and start acting like it! We got a world to guide, and a prophecy to fulfill! And maybe... just maybe... a few old ladies to outsmart."
The weight of destiny settled upon Jaehaerys. He was Jaehaerys Targaryen, son of ice and fire, and his journey had just begun.