Surprise! I hope everyone had a great past few months! How were your holidays? I hope they were great! But Hey! Chapter 8 has arrived! You all thought I had deserted you huh? Have a little faith, I just couldn't seem to get this chapter right and its still a little iffy in my opinion. I figured you all had waited long enough though so I threw my ass into gear to crank this out and tried to make it as good as possible so I hope you all enjoy it. Also if anyone out there has been playing Undertale see if you can find the reference in the chapter ;) Anyways Thanks everyone for every Review, Favorite, Follow, and view they all keep me going as a writer and I can't express how much it all means to me. You all rock! Well on with the chapter, drop a Review or even pm me if you'd like and tell me what you thought! Thanks as always for reading

Much Love,

Rin xoxo

Jon shifted from an unconscious state to a state of hazy consciousness several times after passing out. The first time he had been awake only a few seconds, long enough to see a man with a long scar across his face, before dropping out again. The second time he couldn't focus past the searing pain in his back long enough to take in his surroundings. Before he could cry out in pain a cool liquid was being forced down his throat and darkness found him again.

The third time two voices pulled him from the deep sleep. One voice was high and clear, a woman's voice, while the second was a familiar low voice with a quick wit. He listened to the voices trying to figure out where they were, where he was, and if he was in danger or not. He tried to open his eyes but found himself too drowsy to do so.

"He called himself a Targaryen." The woman's voice said with an annoyed edge.

"Yes you've said that at least seven times now Your Grace." The man's voice called back with a sarcastic tone.

"I am not in the mood for your japes and sarcastic wit today Lord Lannister." The woman sneered.

The man sighed from somewhere inside the room "I have no knowledge of the boy having Dragon blood Your Grace, he was a Snow and a mere lad the last I saw him."

The woman huffed and Jon felt eyes upon him "And if he is? A Targaryen I mean. If he has a better claim? What then My Lord?"

"Then we throw him to Drogon and be done with it. The boy has no army and certainly no dragons. It just so happens that we have both." The man chuckled and Jon fought harder to open his eyes.

"I can't just kill my own blood Tyrion. He might very well be the last besides me…" The woman spoke softly, sadly even, and Jon felt the sudden urge to go to her, but stopped short as he put the two names the man had been called together. Tyrion fucking Lannister.

"You thought the same of Viserys and yet you didn't stop your beloved Khal from frying his head like some nice crispy bacon." The woman exhaled angrily almost growling at the man, at Tyrion, and then a door was slammed and Jon fell back into darkness.

The fourth time Jon actually opened his eyes. He found he was in a small chamber, only the barest of necessities in the room. He was surprised he had not found himself in a cell, rotting away with infection. He sat up out of the sick bed slowly and his head spun. His back cried out in protest, the skin tight and stiff but the pain bearable. He tried to move his legs but found they were heavy and leaden. He felt around his back and found the bandages wrapped around his midsection. He felt under his legs and found two small wrappings around the right leg, but the other was unharmed.

He swung the uninjured leg off the bed and searched for his sword. It was nowhere to be found and he cursed. If he lost that sword he would never forgive himself and he was sure the Old Bear would haunt his damn dreams. He moved the heavy leg with his hands and swung his body so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. He took a few deep breaths trying to will the pain away. After a few minutes he braced his hands on the table beside his bed and pushed up using his left leg mostly.

After he had stood halfway he almost blacked out from the pain and the drowsiness. He pushed through the hazy feeling and stood with his body draped over the table, his arms supporting his mid-section. When the fogginess cleared from his head and the pain had ebbed slightly he stood fully. His first steps almost left him sprawling on the ground, but he caught himself on the desk by the wall. He hobbled slowly using whatever he could reach to steady himself. When he finally reached the door his face dripped with sweat, his back was tight and aching and his leg was almost useless and was filled with pain.

He pulled the door open only to come face to face with a queer dressed guard. He had dark skin and dark hair that curled around his ears. His eyes were piercing and he shoved Jon back towards the room with the end of his staff.

"In." The guard said in a thick tongue.

"I wish to see Daenerys." Jon said but hastily added. "Please."

If the guard had heard Jon he made no attempt at acknowledging him. Instead he pushed at Jon again. "In." He said again.

It became abundantly clear the Guard did not speak the common tongue and Jon sighed and leaned against the door, prepared to wait for someone who understood him. Jon stood at the open door until his legs gave out and then he sat against the door frame. The guard stood to the side of the door and stared straight ahead at the wall of the hallway. Jon took deep steadying breaths as his stomach turned from overexerting himself.

"I see you really are just like your father, stubborn and too proud to rest after injury." A voice said from beside him and Jon's eyes snapped open. A small man with stunted legs and a scar from lip to nose to cheek. Jon smiled up at the halfman and got to his feet sluggishly.

"Tyrion, what a welcome surprise. What brings you to Mereen?"

"Queen Daenerys finds you bleeding out on her balcony and you want to ask me what I'm doing in Mereen? Jon Snow I dare say you suffered a head injury as well."

Jon laughed but reeled in the laughter when shooting pains went up his back. He grimaced "What can I say? I've always been a curious lad and if it please you Tyrion its Jon Targaryen now."

"Ah yes, my dear queen is as confused as I am to how you figure yourself a Targaryen."

Jon's head clouded and spun. He staggered past the dwarf to the small table and sat gently in the chair, carefully angling his injured leg and back out of harm's way.

"I'm afraid it's a long, grueling, and slightly unbelievable story, My Lord. If you would please sit." Jon gestured weakly to the chair opposite him.

Tyrion nodded but walked to the door and spoke to the guard in a foreign tongue before shutting the door behind him and waddling over to the chair. He sat back and looked at Jon expectantly.

Jon folded his hands on top of the table and leaned forward as much as he could without stressing the closed wound on his back.

"First off, what do you know about my injuries? Will I heal or will it leave me with a limp?"

"As far as I know as long as you rest and let yourself heal you should be as good as new. Well with a few new scars to tell the tale of course. You were very lucky, the maester said. If you wouldn't have been found when you were, you'd be as good as dead."

Jon sighed in relief at how lucky he had gotten. Sure he'd be out of commission for some time but at least he wouldn't be forever crippled and unable to fight.

"Now onto your story. Why are you here Jon?"

"If I'm going to tell you all of this you have to promise me one thing." Jon cast his eyes down at the table.

"You're not really in any position to be making deals, but I'll humor you Jon Snow. What is it you ask of me?"

"You will not comment until the end of my story is over and if I get to the end and you decide I tell it true you will try to convince Her Grace to keep me around. Despite all that I'm about to say I'm here to help her take the throne, not take it from her."

"Well I can certainly try, but Her Grace is more headstrong than most, it's the dragons blood in her." Tyrion laughed and Jon smirked.

"Don't I know it." He chuckled and then he launched into the story of his birth, death, and rebirth.

To Tyrion's credit he didn't say a word despite the incredulous look plastered on his face for the last half hour of the story. When Jon spoke of his dragon dreams (omitting the part where he dreamt of bedding his Aunt of course) Tyrion nearly swallowed his tongue with how deeply he inhaled in shock. When Jon had finally finished the room was eerily quiet for a few minutes as Tyrion processed everything he had just heard.

Then suddenly Tyrion was chuckling, then laughing, then howling as Jon sat there and stared at him as if he had sprouted the head of a direwolf.

Tyrion calmed slightly but still shook with quiet laughter "Ahh dear old Ned Stark so honorable he ironically gave up his honor to foster you as his bastard. Even when I think I have it all figured out the universe still throws revelations my way. Well Jon Targaryen as farfetched as your story is, I knew you as a boy and I know you still, and I know you're too simple to concoct that whole story on your own."

Jon visibly relaxed "But" Tyrion continued and Jon straightened up again "The queen will need more convincing. My word will not be enough for something of this caliber I'm afraid." Tyrion stood and Jon got to his feet slowly nearly collapsing at the renewed pain in his back. The room spun and threated to fall away and he grasped the back of the chair so hard his knuckles turned white.

"It's time for some more milk of the poppy I see. Let me fetch the maester and some kitchen girls to bring you some food. If you want to recover you must take care of yourself diligently." He went to turn and Jon shook his head clear of the pain.

"My Lord if you would ask my aunt to visit as well. If she isn't busy of course, I fear resting will not come easily until I make sure I won't lose my head as I sleep."

Tyrion smiled crookedly and nodded before waddling out of the door and past the guard. Jon sighed heavily and sat back onto his pillows carefully. He leaned his head back against the wall behind the bed and closed his eyes. He missed Ghost terribly during moments like these when he needed someone to vent to. He missed the wolf's patient stare and worrying demeanor when Jon was hurt. Jon's chest burned with effort it took to not break down.

What had he gotten himself into? He could've lived without the knowledge of his parentage for a thousand years and still been happy at the frozen tundra that was the wall with his sword, his battle plans, and his wolf, but instead honor and responsibility called. Now here he was across leagues of land and sea from the north and without a companion or friend to call his own. He ran his hands through his curls nervously and sighed once more.

He fell asleep like that, his head thrown back uncomfortably and his back searing in pain against the pillows. He slept without getting rest, dreams of dragonfire and war plagued him still as he slumbered. When he awoke again he started to get annoyed with the lack of windows in the room, for he had no idea what time of day it was or even what day it was for that matter. He sighed and kept his eyes closed, his arm thrown across his face.

"I see you're finally awake again. The maester must have given you quite a bit of milk of the poppy." A high and clear voice called out from somewhere to his right.

Her jerked out of bed suddenly, forgetting his injuries and almost crashing to the floor. The person to his right got up swiftly and pressed their cold hands onto his shoulders nudging him back towards the head of the bed.

"Now that was quite a stupid thing to do. Please don't injure yourself further, we have much to discuss." He looked up at her and unsurprisingly found violet eyes and silver hair.

He nodded and moved back to the head of the bed carefully "Forgive me, My Lady. I seem to be a bit on edge, but also terribly confused from the medicine."

She nodded at him and took her seat at the table once more. "Lord Tyrion had an awful lot to tell me about your journey." She raised an eyebrow at him.

He nodded at her "Aye My Lady, I tell it true. Unfortunate happenstance, but necessary nonetheless, I suppose."

The Dragon Queen chuckled "So you expect me to believe Rhaegar is your father? That you are of my blood? Not only that, but that you were killed and resurrected. I have no more than hearsay to go off of right now Jon Snow. I will not be played for a fool no matter how close you are with my advisor Lord Lannister."

Jon's face fell at that. If he couldn't convince her to trust him all would be lost, but how to prove his parentage without witnesses of his past? He could argue that the dragon found him of all people and protected him as well, but it wasn't good enough. She would need staggering proof, something he's not sure he had.

And then his healed scars started to burn. A reminder of the life his brothers of the night's watch took from him, and one Melisandre restored. He chuckled at the realization.

"What are you laughing at?" Daenerys demanded and his grin fell.

"Don't freak out from what I'm about to do okay? I'm trying to show you something okay?" He said cautiously reaching for the ends of his bed clothes.

Her face reddened and she leapt to her feet. "If you do not remove your hands from your clothing I will call the guards. Then you won't even have hands." She snarled.

He rolled his eyes but his mind flashed to his dream in which he laid with the woman in front of him. He grimaced at the thought, not because she wasn't beautiful, but rather because of their shared blood.

"I have scars from when I was killed. Some are in some quite fatal places." He said pulling the sheets on top of his lap before pulling his bedclothes off. Daenerys' eyes widened slightly the red in her cheeks making her skin seem even more pale.

"Seven Hells woman, I won't bite, you're my aunt for gods' sake."

Daenerys pinned him down with her gaze of fire after that and he shrunk back, not wanting to anger her further. She walked closer making sure to be cautious around him. When she got close enough to see she gasped. She sat on the edge of the bed, caution forgotten and reached her hand forward.

"How…? How did you manage to survive these?" Her hand lingered awkwardly in the air as she didn't dare to touch him in such a way. "May I?" She asked and her nodded.

Her fingers brushed over the chunky, short scar right over his heart and his breath caught in his throat. Her fingers found the one in the center of his chest next, and the ones scattered across his lower abdomen, peeking out from beneath the wrappings around his midsection, next. She sat back surprised they hadn't been a conjurer's trick of some sort.

"To answer your question I didn't survive it. I died and now here I am as good as new. Well almost anyways."

Daenerys sat in silence for a few long moments before sighing. "Then at least that part of the story is true then." She stood from the bed.

Jon frowned "Daenerys please." He grasped at anything that could convince her now. "The dragon found me and protected me. I had dreams of the dragons coming as well. The dragon… it spoke to me when it saved me. It spoke to me in my head…" He trailed off realizing how stupid he sounded.

And then he remembered another something of seemingly little importance. "To bring me back to life the red priestess lit me on fire and I had not a single wound?" He phrased like a question, unsure of himself.

At this her head spun around and he smiled and sat up straighter. "That… that's impossible." She murmured.

He shrugged and hoped to the old gods and the new that the lack of wounds wasn't only a onetime thing. Daenerys stared at him for several long moments. Long enough for Jon to become self-conscious under her stare, his eyes flicking around the room trying not to fall victim to her intimidating stare.

Suddenly she turned around sharply and strode over to the table. Jon jumped at the sudden movement and watch as she picked up the burning candle from the middle of the table and turned back around, her hand cupped over the flame.

She walked towards him slowly her fingers swirling through the high flame of the candle without injury.

"My Lady?" Jon murmured quietly and she shook her head at him.

She sat on the edge of the bed continuing the dance of fingers and flame. She breathed serenely "Fire cannot hurt a dragon Jon Snow. If…" She trailed off a flash of concern and caution burning in her gaze before she schooled her expression. "If you are who you say the flames will not hurt you. If they do hurt you… I'm afraid I cannot help you."

Jon opened his mouth to argue, but found he had no viable reason to object to the test, knowing that the only way to convince her of his blood was ironically through fire. His Targaryen Aunt undoubtedly lived up to their house words. So Jon held his breath as she lowered the candle to his chest. He closed his eyes, his heart hammering so loudly he was sure she could hear it.

He felt the warmth of the flame approaching his skin and he prayed to The Old Gods, the new, R'hllor and just about every other deity he could think of that when it touched his skin it would leave nothing but a tingly warmth behind.

Daenerys' soft movements had not prepared him for the follow-through of the test and as she thrust the flame into the pale skin of his chest he flinched expecting to feel it searing into his chest, burning and cauterizing his flesh. Instead he felt nothing more than a curious heat and warm wax sticking to his skin. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked up into his Queen Aunt's face that showed a mixture of awe and disbelief.

They sat there like that for a few minutes, the candle now extinguished still pressed into his skin, the wax dripping down his chest and hardening where it fell, her hand pressed gently into his stomach, and the last two Targaryen's staring at each other in more appraisal than anything else.

And he finally found enough strength to lay his hands on top of hers, plucking the candle from her hands and taking her hands in his own. Jon's eyes held a bit of mirth, but more than anything they held relief.

"Was that enough or should you like to throw me to the dragon's flames as well before you believe me?"

She smirked at his words but her head was spinning with confusion. "If you're offering I assure you I'm sure I can work something out…Nephew."

He breathed in relief and shot her a tentative smile. "So you believe me now?"

"Unfortunately yes." She smiled a bit before fixing him with a hard stare. "Why are you here Jon?"

His smile faltered and his eyes fell to their clasped hands. "I…" the words caught in his throat. Why was he here? To become the hero the wall needed? To serve a queen? To serve his mother? No none of that was right.

Daenerys became unnerved at his silence and her temper flared a bit as she jumped from conclusion to conclusion. "If it's my crown you want you must know I have means to end your life a thousand times over before I would run out of ideas. Or is it money? I heard you were a bastard before are you looking to up your status? Or perhaps buy an army?"

Jon's eyes widened and he shook his head frantically. "Then what? What is it you want Jon Snow?" She ground out and his eyes flashed, filled with determination.

"I'm here because I was tired, tired of being alone. I… my family, the siblings I grew up with, the father turned uncle that raised me, the brothers I made at the wall, they're all dead, missing, or fled. I lived a whole lifetime thinking I was nothing more than a bastard sent to die a cold death on the wall. When I was given another whole lifetime… When I learned who I truly was, I didn't want to spend this one alone. Not when we all have precious little time before…" He trailed off uncertain.

"Before what Jon?" Daenerys demanded, not liking the look on her nephew's face. He sat up quickly without warning and she reeled back, to avoid the clashing of their heads.

"Death is coming Daenerys Targaryen and it is coming in the form of the undead. It is swift, it is cold, and every time one of us loses to it, it gains a new soldier. The wall will fall without you. The seven kingdoms will be covered in ice and death. Daenerys, without your help to stop the others, I'm afraid there will not be an Iron throne to take."

Daenerys stared at him in horror and surprise, folk tales of the "others" swirling through her thoughts. She went to speak but he was not finished. Jon had a funny look on his face somewhere between apprehension and conviction.

"I… I know I'm not much. I'm a decent swordsman and at least half decent leader. I have a hero complex that causes me to make rash decisions and almost get myself killed, as you can see." He chucked gesturing to himself and she smiled softly, making his breath catch in his throat in the strangest way. He cleared his throat and continued. "My manners are lackluster, my charm even less so. But despite all of that, despite all of my flaws I believe myself to be a good man and I dare say a few others would agree." Fire kissed hair and wild eyes flashed in his mind and he winced.

"But…" He paused and gazed at her intensely "But if you'll have me I will guard you as my Liege Lady. I will serve you as my Queen. I will ride into battle in your name and I will stave off the wretched souls that threaten to overrun all we hold dear. I will lay down my claim and gladly watch you ascend to the Iron Throne. But more than any of that…" His gaze left Daenerys and her heart hammered in her chest as she watched this man lay down his all for her.

"Jon…?" She whispered cautiously to him trying to draw his attention back.

It seemed to be enough because his eyes flicked back to her and he smiled tentatively. "More than any of that… I will be what we both seem to need. I will be your family." He murmured quietly and her cheeks flushed at the serenity of his voice.

Her eyes seemed to betray her, filling to the brim with tears and when she blinked the tears streamed down her heated cheeks and fell onto their clasped hands. And suddenly it didn't matter that he was an unknown factor, that he could mean danger and destruction to her years of planning. It didn't matter because, she had family. Family who had faced death and crossed an ocean to be here. Family who was unknown one day, and a top her balcony the next as if some twist of fate finally decided she deserved some good in her life.

Then his arms were encircling her and pulling her into his chest in the most uncomfortable, yet comforting way. And his face was buried in her tresses and her ear was pressed just over his heart, as if to make sure he was alive. His skin, unlike most, was warm to her touch almost the same temperature of her always overheated skin. And as strange as it sounded, neither of them had ever felt so at home in someone's embrace.

And so that's how they fell asleep. A dragon queen nestled between her nephew's legs, her own bent up under her and their arms crossed across her chest, hands clasped at her stomach, and tears dried to their cheeks. And that's how Lord Tyrion found them several hours later and with a smirk on his face he turned around and shut the door gently. But the worry niggled at the back of his head as he strode back down the hallway, because another couple birthed of the same blood ties was the last thing in all of Westeros that the Kingdoms would accept.

Okay time to dive into the family dynamic which is quickly going to change to that awkward "Wow I have the hots for my Aunt/Nephew. What do I do?" dynamic. Be patient I promise to give you all the Jon/Dany you need to keep you happy! I know you've all waited a long time to have them in the same room together and trust me, I'm using it to the best of my ability without rushing the romance. But hey anyone find that Undertale reference? ;) Lol!

Well I hope you all liked the chapter nonetheless, I'm really nervous this won't get good feedback, but hey! You all deserved it after such a long wait. Thank you all so, so much for being patient and always being here when I come back it means everything to me. Thanks as always for reading and I'll see you all next chapter!

Much Love,

Rin xoxo