So recently watched the Game of Thrones Finale... And this came up. Don't forget to leave feedback! More I get, faster I upload. (I think, mostly why a lot of my stories get delayed, figure theres a lack of interest. Except for A Grindelwald's Tale, that one is genuinely just difficult to write at the moment. I want to avoid going 'The True Fairy Tale' route and ruining it.)

...

The lone commander cursed as he walked on back towards Castle Black. An irritated look gracing his features. Leave it to Tormund to somehow wind up getting him lost Beyond the Wall of all places. Honestly, he should've never mentioned the Kingslayer's death.

Just beside him he heard Ghost's excited yelps as he ran around the wide expanse, Jon had to wonder where the wolf had suddenly got all the energy.

"At least one of us is enjoying this." Jon sighed as he walked on towards the Wall. "When I get my-" Whatever he'd been about to say disappeared as he watched Ghost quickly tense up, frozen as he looked towards a different direction. "What is it boy?" A serious look quickly took over as he knelt beside one of his oldest friends.

Ghost however simply moved his head to the side, tilting it the slightest as he stared past him, a confused expression on his face.

"Find someone?" Jon's expression softened when he noticed Ghost's ear perking up, a somewhat excited look replacing the previous. He chuckled at the cheerful howl, though he certainly felt at peace as he stood back up.

He idly wondered whether he should go off in the direction Ghost wanted, it'd mean taking a longer route back... Tormund would obviously have noticed his absence by now... Right?

"Love really is the death of duty..." He sighed after a few more moments of thought on the matter.

Still, he was curious as to what would make Ghost of all react in such a way. With that in mind, he turned left and followed the direwolf's directions. He certainly had enough provisions and it wasn't like there were many wildlings around, they'd only recently started returning. With the White Walkers gone, his biggest worry was likely to be a shadowcat...

Still, it couldn't be as bad as what happened in the south... Honestly, there's really no way that situation could've been any worse!

And as Jon Snow stared at the rapidly approaching dark clouds, he considered that perhaps challenging the Old Gods was a bad idea.

...

Soaked, tired and a little hungry, Jon trudged on through the rain, a scowl on his face. Ever since he'd started trying to find whatever it is Ghost had seemingly spotted, the direwolf had refused to budge from the course. Always at least a few steps ahead of him, never turning back.

Honestly, with how badly the wolf was acting, you'd think he was walking towards Daenerys!

"Ghost!" Jon called out for the thousendth time, "Where are we going boy?" He questioned again, receiving no answer.
It's not like he could just leave his wolf...

...

He was getting very tempted to leave his wolf.

They'd been walking for hours on end and yet Ghost refused to budge! Honestly, he was starting to think the wolf was going senile because there was simply no way a person could live this far out-

Jon stared, gobsmacked, at the small wooden house? That appeared on the horizon, hidden by the large barren trees. The entirety mostly hidden by snow. He turned towards his wolf, finding the animal sat on its legs staring at him with perhaps the smuggest expression Ghost had ever had. He hadn't even thought his wolf capable of such a look.

Warily, he put a hand on his sword and made his way towards the small wooden building.

...

"Hello? Anybody in here?" Jon questioned as he pushed through the open door. The lack of creaks suggesting someone still living in the place...
But... Who could live through... Jon's eyes slowly fixated on the lone figure in the room, his body hidden by the small chair. A mane of black hair was the only thing he could see from his position.

Still, he'd known immediately.

"Uncle Benjen?"

And yet it couldn't be at the same time...

This one, for one thing, was still alive.

...

He wasn't sure how to describe what he witnessed, one second he'd been staring at a very alive Benjen Stark, free of any and all of the White Walker's touch, the next he was falling down what he presumed were a spiral of staircases, said staircases disappeared in a puff of smoke as he landed.

When he blinked his eyes open, making an attempt to stand, he quickly took a look around. His eyes widening as he watched Winterfell's main hall come into existance. The smoke condensing and forming into each and every servant he could remember. No... Evidently, there were even more than even he realised.

And there, at the front stood his family. Right next to the former king of Westeros. Robert Baratheon.

"A dream?" Jon questioned somberly, no one seemed to notice him. Something oddly familiar. He wasn't sure if it was due to his status as a 'visitor' to this particular memory or because he was, well, technically a bastard.

Deep down, he somewhat missed the freedom that had come with.

Still, he recognised the setting well enough, it'd been the first night of that horrible long moon.

And then he'd taken a proper look at the people around him.

Jon blinked a few times, furrowing his brow in the process. One finger instinctively went to his chin. Yet no matter how he looked at it, no matter how he tried to imagine it. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was very off.

And then he caught it, a strange chill running down his spine in the process, his cousins... They all looked young! Far too young! He knew for a fact they'd been a few name days older when the king had arrived...

By the old gods Rickon was still a babe!

Unfortunately, he didn't have another moment to ponder the strange... Mix-up? For the hall had quickly started to dissipate into smoke. The dream ending as quickly as it came.

...

Jon opened his eyes slowly, somewhat tired of having to deal with just about everything. He wasn't sure what other problems awaited Westeros, though he'd certainly hoped the Long Night would've been the last.

Even after all he'd lost. Evidently, it seemed the gods found it amusing to throw him into something else. For example, where on Planetos did his uncle come from?
He'd seen enough of Arya's abilities to be suspicious.

"You're awake!" The man's voice remarked, a delighted tone to it.

Jon watched as his uncle quickly paced towards his side, his eyes widened when he noticed the red-hot looking dagger in his hands. He quickly got himself up, somewhat surprised at the lack of any chains before briefly pausing when he took in the confused expression on Benjen's face.

Benjen simply turned his gaze between Jon and the dagger in his hand, a small frown building up in the process.

"I've already checked... You bleed..." Benjen seemed to mumble to himself.

Jon watched in confusion as his uncle raised a hand towards his head.

"Uncle?" Jon questioned confused.

For some odd reason, the word made the man freeze up on the spot, immediately dropping his dagger in the process.

"What did you say?" Benjen whispered.

"Uncl-"

"WHO ARE YOU!?" Benjen roared, though as he took in the strangers appearance once again. He couldn't deny the resemblance.

Jon stared back wide-eyed, completely confused. Completely speechless. He didn't even react as the man put his hands on his shoulders, his eyes locked onto his own. Searching for something.

"Jon?" Benjen whispered.

"Aye." Jon replied on instinct, his head nodding.

He still wasn't prepared for the hug.

"How... You... You died... They said... They said you were betrayed?" Benjen mumbled, almost incoherently confusing him even more. He'd never thought he'd see the day where his uncle would be like this.

"I came back." Jon felt himself at a loss for words as he whispered what simply happened.

Benjen stared back, a steel expression on his face, before once again to Jon's surprise simply... Falling?

"Wasn't much to come back to,"

"What?" Jon replied immediately, he'd felt another chill for some reason.

Benjen blinked at the question before realising he likely didn't know.

"We lost Jon... We lost. The Others won."

"No." Once again Jon replied on instinct, shaking his head in the process. That was the one thing... The one thing that couldn't be questioned! "The Night King is dead, the White Walke-"

"Night King?" Benjen questioned bemused.

Jon froze as he stared at the man. "The one that controlled them all! The first White Walker."

Benjen stared back before, slowly, shaking his head. "It was no king that reduced the seven kingdoms to ice and snow."

"What?"

"Jon, how did you get here?" Benjen questioned as he stood back up.

Jon watched as his uncle made his way to what he presumed was the door to the exit.

"I walked..."

"Through that?" Benjen questioned as he opened the wooden door, revealing the snowstorm raging outside.

"Where are we?" Jon questioned as he got up off his bed shakily.

"Were in Dorne. We're probably the last two living in Westeros."

Jon stared ahead, his mind blank before another thought occurred to him as he shakily walked towards his kin. Where was Ghost? He couldn't find hide or tail of his friend...

What on Planetos had happene-

His eyes froze on the ground in front of him, just a few feet from his uncle was the man's dagger, now completely cooled off.

"Say, you ever find out who your parents were?"

Jon blinked, almost missing the question. There was no doubt about it... It was the same one. Though still, how had his uncle found it?

"Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark." Jon answered stonily as he eyed the dagger he'd killled Daenarys with.

As he eyed the blood streak seemingly forever implanted onto the blade itself...

What the hell was going on!?

"Huh... Starks do tend to take after their mothers... Should've known you weren't Ned's."

And what was wrong with his uncle?

A/N: Hope the chapter came out well enough, I'll be uploading smaller chapters in Spacebattle first before compiling a few of them into single one here. Don't forget to leave any feedback!