It was a cold dark evening on the wall. Like every evening on the wall. Jon Snow paced back and forth from his position on the top. Glaring anxiously into the horizon. The army of the dead were on the move and there was no telling if he could stop them. He needed more men, more allies, and the new king of the North was unsure if he could do it.

That's why he volunteered to take his watch alone. He couldn't afford to let any of the men see his uncertainty or fear.

"Jon Snow," said a strange voice from the darkness.

At first Jon thought that it had to be his imagination. After spending so many hours alone it wasn't strange to begin hearing things.

"Jon Snoooooow," it said again.

"Who goes there!" Cried Jon.

"It is I, the Lord of Light."

"The lord of what?"

"The Lord of Light?"

"Ha, ha, very funny men," said Jon while looking around for any sign of someone who could be hiding amongst the ice, but he quickly discovered that he was very much alone.

"Here Jon, the lantern, look into the lantern."

Jon turned to the fire beside him, wondering how the small blaze could possibly be the source of the mysterious voice.

"Look deep, deep into the flames."

"Okay….I'm looking," said Jon while anxiously glancing around incase something decided to spring out and attack him.

"What do you see?"

"Fire."

"Look harder Jon."

"More fire."

"You really aren't taking this seriously enough."

Jon squinted into the blaze. Wondering if he'd gone insane.

And then a dark shadow of a man appeared amongst the flames. Jon couldn't explain why, but it brought back memories of the day that he was resurrected from the dead. He felt fear in the pit of his stomach and lost the ability to form words.

"Hello Jon," said the shadow.

"The…. Lord of Light."

"I've been wanting to speak with you for a while now Jon. When that chick asked me to bring you back, I thought it may have been some kind of a joke. I mean, what good is this emo guy with a mother complex? But you've succeeded my expectations Jon."

"Thank... you."

"You've done great things Jon, great things. For your courage, strength, and endurance, I have decided to reward you. I will grant you one wish."

"A wish?"

"Yes, a wish Jon. I am the one true god. I can grant anything that your heart desires."

"Anything?"

"Anything Jon."

Jon wasted no time in deciding what he wanted.

"I would like you to destroy the night king and the army of the dead."

The Lord was silent for a moment.

"Well you see Jon, that's a nice wish and all, but I mainly work with fire, and the night king really doesn't have much of that around him at the moment."

"End all wars in Westeros."

"Well, I can understand you wanting something like that, but sometimes you need a little war to keep things interesting around this place."

"Destroy Cersei Lannister?"

"I could do that Jon, but I quite enjoy watching her frolic naked in front of her fire. Those breasts Jon. You can't possibly ask me to destroy those two beautiful-"

"What good are you! What can you actually do?"

"Well I mostly just bring back dead people and raise the temperature up a notch or two. If I focus all my powers on a small space, I might even be able to melt this giant wall that seems to be in your way-"

"No! No don't do that!" Jon massaged his temples. "Can you really bring people back from the dead?"

"Of course."

"Anyone?"

"Yep."

"No matter how long they've been dead."

"Ain't no dead man that the Lord of Light can't bring back."

Jon tried his best to think of the perfect person to resurrect. Several names first came to mind. Rob, Stanis, his fallen comrades in the night's watch who'd died trying to save him. His mother who he'd never met.

As much as he wanted to meet the woman who'd only ever been a name, he knew that it was a selfish request. One that would never help him or others from the impending winter.

But his father….

If Ned Stark were around, then surely he could help guide him as Lord of Winterfell. Sansa, Arya, and Brandon would also finally have their father back. After everything they'd been through they deserved to have some joy back in their lives.

And so with Ned Stark's image firmly in his mind, he made the following request.

"Great Lord of light. I'd like you to bring my father back."

"Done."

The fire sparked and grew larger, causing Jon to jump back in shock. The fire grew to the size of a man and a shadowy figure emerged from the flames.

But instead of the familiar warm face of Ned Stark, Jon found himself face to face with a different young man with long white hair.

Jon stared at the unfamiliar man in shock.

He suddenly realized that it could mean only one thing.

The Lord of Light obviously screwed up and summoned the wrong person.

The two men stood there staring at each other. Neither one of them sure of how to break the ice.

Jon was the first to try and attempt some light conversation.

"Good evening."

"Who are you?" Snapped the strange man.

"Who are you?"

"I am prince Rhaegar Targaryen. First of my name and heir to the iron throne. And you?"

"I'm Jon Snow," Jon managed to say despite his awe. He never expected to find himself face to face with a long dead prince.

Jon slapped his hand across his face just to see if he was dreaming, but unfortunately the pain felt real.

"What is this place," Rhaegar shivered. "Why is it so damn cold?"

Jon felt sorry for the poor man who was inadequately dressed for the snow. He took off his coat and passed it to Rhaegar who quickly wrapped it around his own body.

"It's the wall, your grace," said Jon.

"A wall?"

"No, the wall."

"Which wall?"

"The great wall in the north, you know the one they built to keep out the nightwalkers."

Rhaegar's face remained blank like he still had no idea what Jon was talking about.

"And wildlings," Jon continued. "It also keeps out wildlings."

"Oh, that wall." Rhaegar glanced over the side and then slowly backed away. "The last thing I remember is being in battle at the Trident. How on earth did I get here?"

Jon inhaled deeply. This really wasn't how he wanted to spend his Saturday night.

"I don't know how to break it to you, your grace, but you lost the battle."

"Lost the battle?"

"Well you died, Sir."

"No, it can't be. Don't tell me that arrogant drunk Robert Baratheon actually bested me in battle?"

"I'm afraid so Sir. If you'd kindly take a look, at that sword sized hole in your armour. As proof, of where he probably stabbed you."

Rhaegar looked down at his chest and his mouth dropped open in horror.

"By the gods! Are you saying I'm dead? Is this the afterlife? It's a lot colder and Northernish than I expected."

"You've been brought back! I'm not really sure how, but there was this talking lantern and he offered to bring back one dead person. I asked him to bring my father Ned Stark back, but instead he brought you. And I don't know why."

Rhaegar looked at Jon. Paying particular attention to his face and eyes to make sure that he was really telling the truth.

"Jon," said Rhagae seriously. "I think this can mean only one thing."

"What is that, your grace?"

"The talking lantern obviously decided that it was more important to bring me back instead of your father.''

"Oh."

"I am still needed in this world. There are things I must do. I need to see Lyanna? You must take me to her at once."

"I'm afraid that she's dead your grace. She died not long after you."

"And the baby?"

"Baby?"

"She's pregnant. Our child is due to be born soon."

"I'm afraid that I don't know anything about a baby."

"No, no, not Viserous!"

"Viserous?"

"That was the name I chose for our son. A grand title that I thought of as I walked onto the battlefield."

"Oh, I'm sure he would have loved it," said Jon kindly even though he thought it sounded terrible. He felt pity for any poor kid who was unfortunate to be given such a terrible name.

"There's no way that he can be dead. He is the prince who was promised. A legendary warrior who will unite Westeros and defeat the army of the dead. The prophecy can't be wrong. Surely he's alive somewhere."

"Never heard of him."

"No, this can only mean that he never made it!"

Rhaegar buried his face in his hands and began to sob. "Poor Viserous, poor Lyanna, I have failed you both."

Jon felt confused. The man before him didn't match the tales he'd heard of Rhaegar. The evil moster who kidnapped his aunt and raped her.

He didn't know much else about the prince. Whenever he came up in conversation his father would quickly change the topic. There was once a travelling salesman who attempted to compare Jon to a picture of the prince, but his father sure put an end to that conversation quickly.

"I'm sorry for your loss, your grace. I didn't know they meant so much to you."

"Of course they did. Lyana was my sun, my moon, without her I am nothing."

"So you kidnapped her?"

"Kidnapped? No, I told her that we should keep our relationship a secrete like all good aristocrats. But she practically begged me to take her away. My poor Lyan Lyan couldn't stand the idea of being married to that womanising gorilla Robert Baratheon."

"So she ran away with a man who was already married?"

"Elia was a great princess and the mother of my children. But it was a marriage of convenience and the passion soon faded. Then once my son was born, her lady bits were damaged far beyond repair. Our love soon turned to resentment, resentment turned to hate, hate meant that I couldn't spent more than a minute in the same room as her without her giving me these terrifying dark stares," he took a moment to wipe the tears from his eyes. "How is she by the way?"

"Dead, your grace."

"And our children?"

"Dead."

"My father."

"Dead."

"My mother?"

"Dead."

"My brother?"

"Dead."

"By the gods. Is there anyone left alive?"

Jon racked his brain to think of any living relative of Rhaegar's who was still living.

"There's your sister Daenerys! She's still alive and doing well. Very well in fact. She's amassed an army and plans on taking over king's landing."

"Amassed an army? Isn't she still only a babe?"

"Well some time has passed since you died."

"How much time?"

"About two decades, or so. She's quite big, now. And attractive. If you're into that sort of thing. "

It was then that Rhaegar fell to his knees and began sobbing uncontrollably.

"No, this can't be!" He cried. "It must be lies! All lies!"

"Look…. I."

Feelings and emotions weren't Jon's strong point, so he quickly fled and went to get help.

Jon had few friends or allies who he trusted to believe him, but Sir Davos seemed to have more experience when it came to dealing with the Lord of Light (and his cruel tricks) so he was the first man who Jon turned to.

He quickly raised the old man from his bed, filled him in on the situation, and dragged him up the wall.

Rhaegar was still sobbing when then two of them returned.

"Here he is," said Jon while pointing to the newly resurrected prince.

"By the gods!" Cried Davos. "I've seen many an unbelievable thing. But I never thought the day would come when a dead Targaryen prince would yet again walk among the living."

"Lies! Lies! All of it. What is this black magic!" Cried Rhaegar to the darkness.

"Take him back," Jon hissed at the lantern, but there was no reply.

"Strange thing this magic is," Davos continued. "Can't trust any of it. Stannis dedicated himself to this so called Lord of Light and it led to his downfall."

"I see. It was foolish of me to trust in a talking lantern," said Jon.

"Just stab me now and end my pathetic existence!" Cried Rhaegar.

"Technically he is supposed to be dead," whispered Davos. "We could always, just give him a push off the old wall."

"No, I don't want to do that."

"It was only a joke Sir."

"What am I supposed to do with him?" Jon sighed. "He doesn't look a day older since the day he died. No one's going to believe that he's really Rhaegar Targaryen."

"Jon Snow. Allow me to pitch you an idea. This may seem unbelievable. But didn't you inform me that Rhaegar here was due to have a secret child with your aunt."

"Yes."

"If what he said is true, and that child somehow lived, then he should be about your age."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at here," said Jon.

"It means Jon, that there's a small possibility that we could pass Rhaegar off to everyone as his own secret love child."

"You're a genius Sir. Davos! That may actually work. "

"Just imagine the tale that we can tell the men. Born in secret and hidden away for years so that no one will know the truth. Not even himself."

"Then one day someone accidentally let it slip that he's the lost prince, prophesized to defeat the army of the dead, and he's come to reclaim is destiny."

"Might want to leave that last part out."

Jon was beginning to feel like there was finally a way out of that mess, until he looked over Davos' shoulder to see Rhaegar standing dangerously close to the edge of the wall.

"Lyanna, Viserous, mother, father, brother," said Rhaegar. "Rhaenys, and Aegon. Soon we will be reunited on the other side."

He held his arms out before him and moved to take one step over the edge, until Jon and Davos managed to grab his jacket just in time and yank him back.

"You've still have a lot to live for, your grace!" Cried Davos.

"Like what?" Cried Rhaegar. "Everyone I've ever loved is dead!"

"There's still a chance for you to be king, of something," said Jon. "Maybe a small country or a town."

"You could marry your sister?" Said Davos.

"Marry my sister? Who on earth would do something so grotesque."

"Didn't your parents do it, sir?"

"But that was a different time."

"Look," said Jon. "I know you're sad, and lonely, and it's my fault that you're here, but I don't have time for this. There's an entire army of the dead waiting out there and we need to defeat them. So you can either stay and help me out, or just jump off this wall and get it over with!"

Jon let go of his shoulder and slowly backed away. He meant what he said. There was no time to pacify strange ghosts of the past.

"What Jon here is trying to say, your grace," said Davos. "Is that we need all the help we can get. Your family may be gone, but you can still help your sister, and all of Westeros if you help us fight the white walkers."

Rhaegar looked into the distance. The sky had become lighter like the the sun was soon to rise. He stood there staring at the fading stars and then wiped the tears from his face.

"Alright," said Rhaegar. "I'll do what my son could not, and help you fight the army of the dead. But then I'll be leaving to be with my loved ones."

Jon and Sir Davos thought it would be best to test out introducing Rhaegar as Viserous to a small group of their most trusted allies. Just to make sure that their plan would actually work.

Therefore Jon called Brienne, Tormund, and Lyanna Mormont into a small room for an emergency meeting.

"Everyone, this is Viserous," said Jon while indicating to Rhaegar who had finally managed to control his tears. "The secret son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark."

"The what?" Asked Tormund.

"Is this some sort of joke," said Brienne.

"Imposter!" Cried Lyanna.

"I know it may be a lot to believe. But just look at him," Said Davos. "He's the spitting image of Rhaegar Targaryen. It's almost as though the man was raised from the dead and came walking into this room-"

Jon coughed before Davos could say anymore.

"And where's he been hiding all these years?" Asked Brienne.

"Far beyond the wall," said Jon. "So far that no one could find him."

"No, he wasn't," said Tormund. "Just look at him shivering like a southerner. There's no way that this man was raised beyond the wall."

"He was raised in an unusually warm place beyond the wall," said Jon. "Near a volcano, with hot springs. He didn't have a chance to get out much. With living in secret and all."

"If he's a secret child, doesn't that make him a bastard?" Asked Brienne.

"Well actually my parents were married," said Rhaegar. "It was a lovely ceremony at a chapel near the sea. Lyanna wore a beautiful white dress which showed off her figure nicely. They then had a lovely lunch which consisted of deer, pork and berries, before going for a nice stroll on the beach."

Jon clenched his fist and resisted the urge to shove his elbow into Rhaegar's stomach. It would have been far easier to integrate him with the rest of the men if he wasn't next in line to the throne.

"Doesn't that make him the rightful heir to the iron throne?" Asked Lyanna.

"That makes him competition," said Brienne. "How do we know that he won't attempt to convert our armies and try to take the iron throne?"

"How do we know that he won't go mad and start burning people?" Asked Lyanna.

Jon Snow coughed and looked at Rhaegar. The man stated that he wanted to die once everything was over, but he'd always been told not to trust a Targaryen, and there was no way of telling if he'd follow through with his words, or change his mind halfway and decide to make himself king.

"You have nothing to fear from me. I, Rhae…. Viserous Targaryen, have come not for the iron throne, but to assist this man, Jon Snowy, in the battle against the undead things.

"It's Jon snow," Davos coughed.

"Once the fighting's over, and Westeros is saved. I'll be merrily on my way. Back to where I came from."

"Well, if he's come to fight then I say we should let him," said Brienne.

"Thank you," said Jon. "I'm glad that at least someone here believes me."

"But I still don't believe that this look alike is really a Targaryen and neither will the men," said Brianna. "Even if he is it will only lead to trouble. We need to keep his true identity a secret."

And so the following morning, Jon found himself before a room full of men introducing Rhaegar for the second time.

"Everyone this is Fred," he said while pointing to Rhaegar. "He showed up at the front gate last night and decided that he wants to join us."

"Hello, Fred!" Called several of the men.

"Hello, Northerners," said Rhaegar with a bright smile.

Jon buried his face in his hands. It was going to be a long day.

I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. I still have a few more ideas, so I'd like to post another chapter when I have the chance.

If you like my style you can check out my free original stories too. I'm currently working on one called "Memories of a Soul in the Underworld." You can read it on Fictionpress, Booksie, and my blog.

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